#anyways I’m super super stressing over this and I still have a ton of studying to get through

[artsyannierose]

Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf

randomly made a crap ton more sense to me

why?

fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))

Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style

and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)

Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today

maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays

I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀

*cough* Nene *cough cough*

So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS

LIKE

IDK THEYRE PRETTY

Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it

(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)

but like

there’s no

life

no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)

it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color

and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time

you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas

And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious

No she’s literally, physiologically dead

THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING

she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭

and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch

so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it

he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside

…just like him

the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse

he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨

I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou

Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective

even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)

and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him

and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms

and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao

and he was unbelievably adamant about it too

I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days

seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me

Look at the difference:

Happy

vs Sad/Determined

vs Depressed (ig??)

vs Dead

She still has so much emotion in her eyes

and then d e a d

literally looks like a porcelain doll

wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it

I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out

Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-

IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES

send help

anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-

[positivityfortoday]

~

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

fuck I still haven't done the rewrite of the Mutant Town AU that I specifically came off hiatus to write, like the Plant Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts were written to prep this au and I just got wildly distracted so uhhhh

yeah the concept is in the link but the gist is that the people and town becoming mutated by constant ectoplasmic contamination, we all know and love this concept right but I'm gonna expand on it

this is a direct result of the portal being opened, but they aren't getting infected from the portal, the issue is that creating a permanent opening into the ghost zone has weakened the veil between their worlds and Amity Park and the Ghost Zone sort of slip in and out of each other constantly

and because ectoplasm responds strongly to emotions (poltergeists being made from atmospheric emotions for example) it all tends to converge very heavily at the school full of hormonal teenagers

so Casper High becomes its own god damn cryptid, the teachers get so jaded about opening the door to a classroom and finding just a whole ass ghost zone on the other side that they just put a sign on the door telling kids to go to a different room, lockers swap contents with other lockers so kids have started putting their names on the inside so they know who's stuff they've just found

this also means the kids get super affected, like super affected, literally, they all get ghost powers, some are just physical mutations, some are just super abilities, or a general increase in natural ability, like a member of the track team getting super speed

it takes a while for Danny and co. to figure this out, Sam and Tucker should have been warning signs as they've spent the most time around ghosts and the ghost zone, but that's why the Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts are important

they have powers, but they thought they came exclusively from outside sources, they had no idea that their abilities were also strengthened and influenced by being highly contaminated by ectoplasm, which is why when one day Mikey sneezes and green acid shoots out of his nose and melts his desk, everyone is a little bit startled

the teachers have long since started using ghost detectors after the time Paulina spent a whole week overshadowed by Kitty, so Mikey gets a check over and other than the usual atmospheric reading Lancer gets nothing especially strong from him

there have been concerns about the gradually increasing ectoplasmic content in the air messing with ghost detector results, the devices have to be recalibrated constantly, so Lancer asks the one and only son of the local ghost hunters in the room if he has some other way to check

Danny's parents make him keep a few protective items in his schoolbag, so he tries some gear on him to see if anything comes flying out, but nothing does, Danny isn't too surprised seeing as he couldn't sense a ghost in the room anyway, but it definitely makes things a little concerning

even if it were a repeat of the Spectra incident and he wasn't being overshadowed, the Fenton's tech would have still gotten rid of whatever was causing this if it were an external influence

Mikey is sent home for the day and his parents are told to keep an eye on him

and then the next week, Star drops a pen off her desk and a strand of her hair whips out to grab it, she's also checked for ghost influence and sent home

a few weeks after that it happens again, a kid on the basketball team makes a leap to the net and stays in the air, they have to call in the cheerleaders to climb on top of each other to reach him and pull him down

Danny has been trying to figure out what's happening from the first moment with Mikey, and his parents have also been getting calls from worried parents who want to know if they can fix whatever's happening to their kids

over the next couple of months, every kid in the school has some kind of ability or mutation, Dash heals whoever he touches, which he discovers after punching Nathan in the face and curing his acne, Paulina turns invisible, which freaks her out at first until she realises it's great for eavesdropping, Wes can conjure fire (because I desperately needed him to have a polarising ability to Danny), Kwan becomes empathic and can feel and influence people's emotions

Valerie also had an early mutation that she didn't know about, when Technus gave her a new suit, her body pretty much just absorbed it as a part of her, Technus had not intended this to happen, and was pretty peeved about it, Valerie found out that she had stolen control over the suit when Technus had a big rant about it during a fight, and she put the pieces together once other kids started developing abilities

this whole thing causes a ton of chaos as kids are struggling to control what they can do, so Danny has to step in and help them out, he often has to run off to change into Phantom in order to protect everyone from an ability that's gone haywire, he ends up pretty much running ghost power training courses after school to help them control themselves

he's also gotten stuck in situations where he's had to step in and help someone without having the time to change forms, meaning he has to make up a cover story about having developed his own powers way before everyone else since he's been living on top of a portal for years, he only tells people about his ice powers

Jazz has always had a tendency to be able to reign in her emotions and keep a cool head, (the only ones who can really push her buttons are Danny and sometimes her parents, at school around other kids who look up to her she's often very in control) meaning she doesn't draw ectoplasm to herself all that much, and though Danny uses the excuse of having lived on top of a ghost portal to explain why he's already so familiar with using his power, it's actually not even remotely true, because the Fentons use specialised air purifiers to keep the atmospheric ectoplasm at a manageable level, the Fenton house ironically has the least atmospheric contamination compared to the rest of the town, that's how Maddie and Jack have had limited mutation to themselves (though they aren't wholly free, they've mostly just gotten physically stronger and tougher)

so even though Jazz develops her power a little earlier than everyone else's, it's not that far ahead, and she actually doesn't even realise she already has one until half the school has developed theirs

Jazz has the power to slow time in a little bubble around herself, she'd been using it without realising while studying, having gotten through hours of work in half that time, she always thought it was just her losing track of time or she was just getting faster at reading, she also spends a lot of time counselling other students and trying to help them sort out their problems, and they'd often comment that they felt like they'd been talking for so much longer than they had, again she just chalked it up to losing track of time

a lot of students had wondered why Danny developed a power early and Jazz hadn't, until someone walked in on Jazz helping a girl through a panic attack in the bathroom, and found them both talking extremely fast, a lot of her friends realised in hindsight that she'd been doing that unwittingly for quite a while, nobody had noticed because she always talked to people privately, so nobody outside her little time bubble had seen it happen

Sam and Tucker come clean about their abilities too, but they also don't give the full rundown, still keeping some things close to the chest to avoid standing out from everyone else

then there's the teachers

adults typically have a better time regulating emotions than teenagers, meaning much like Jazz they aren't drawing as much ectoplasm toward themselves, but this doesn't exempt them from developing something after a while, especially with the heightened stress of managing a school full of volatile super kids

Mr Lancer discovers that he can create shields, after an incident where he jumps in front of some students to protect them from another power gone awry

Tetslaff ends up with a sonic ability, able to project her voice like a megaphone (yes this is a Coach Boomer from Sky High reference don't @ me), Principal Ishiyama develops a physical mutation, growing to twice her size, she likes that she can tower over the students while delivering speeches, but she doesn't like having to stoop through doors all the time, she has the one to her office resized, along with her chair and desk

so as you can imagine, the town ends up erupting into chaos, a lot of kids very much misuse their abilities, Danny does his best as Phantom to teach people to be responsible, but sometimes he has to resort to literally kicking their asses to get them to straighten up

but for the most part, a ton of kids were already looking up to him, and are generally pretty happy to follow his example, especially the more popular kids, it's generally considered not very cool to get your ass kicked by Phantom, so weirdly enough a lot of kids get peer pressured into not causing any real damage or injury with their powers

this doesn't mean they don't absolutely misuse them, they're just more subtle about it

until a ghost shows up, a lot of the kids are more than happy to let loose to protect themselves and their friends, and Phantom for the most part is happy to let them, with some supervision of course, he still has to make sure nobody gets too hurt (including the ghosts)

the entire debacle makes Danny's life simultaneously a whole lot easier AND so much more fucking stressful

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

~

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

~

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

~

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

[davoguepineapple]

Okay, imagine being in boarding school, and you're living your best life. You've gone through a few years and your dad says, “hey I got tickets to this world cup game of your favourite sport to celebrate you going back to school and doing so well last year. We're going to go with my coworker and a few of his kids and one of his sons best friends.” You know the kids he's talking about by name, they're a few years younger and you're vaguely familiar that they're popular in their year, and that the daughter of the coworker had some massive health issues in her first year. You guys go, have a good time and aside from a terrorist threat at the end of the night you guys all get out unscathed. You think, “huh what a story to tell my friends at school.” Then quickly move on.

School has now started, new year. Second last year of school, with a ton of friends, basically living your adolescent dream. Then your principal announces that your school is going to be hosting and competing with two other schools for this trophy, each school is allowed to let one student compete and due to the difficulty of the competition, they only let people your year or higher compete. You think, “hey, what's the harm? I'm not doing many extra-curricular's this year, I'm doing well in my classes and this will look good on my teacher’s assistant application next year.” You apply with the support of your friends and crazy enough get selected even though you for sure thought it was going to a senior. That popular kid you saw the game with somehow gets selected too and they let him compete but you think that's because the teachers favour him since he's an orphan. You know you can beat him though, you've taken more classes than him and brush it off.

The competition starts, you're still doing well in classes and your friends start wearing funny buttons that say you’re the better competitor for your school. That popular little kid is less popular because the school caught on to his favouritism and you tell him you feel bad about the buttons, because you see he doesn’t have many friends at the moment. It's okay though this kid likes you and gives you insider knowledge he somehow has to the first competition which is super nice of him. You pass that competition with flying colours, while starting to think maybe that other kid knows more class knowledge than you originally thought.

Maybe he has a tutor in the summer months?

The next competition starts with a riddle, you solve it quickly while flirting with a girl you’ve kind of had a thing with who is really smart (and pretty)... you decide to ask her to the Christmas dance - you’re a little smitten tbh.

You give the competing kid a nudge in the right direction on the riddle as he tipped you off to the first comp.

To your surprise this competition was your strength and you get 1st.

You go to the dance and have an amazing time with the girl you like.

Last comp is coming and you’ve heard it’s tough but you study hard while maintaining good grades in class.

It’s the day of the final comp, you’re nervous but get a head start for winning the last one. You’re going through the comp, kind of stressed when the kid from the opposing school tries to attack you, you’re about to defend yourself when the little kid from your school turns the corner says it’s not worth it and he probably won’t win anyways.

Then suddenly you and the little kid see the trophy that you’re supposed to reach in the last competition to win at the same time. You think to yourself, “ I like the kid but no chance is he winning over me, I would not be able to live that down.”

You and the kid start fighting your way to the trophy and then decide that you should grab it together.

The kid was somehow allowed in the competition and the school didn’t say anything about you and the kid not being able to tie for the prize. You’re a part of the same school so it’ll be the same victory and they’ve already bent the rules. You agree and you both head to the trophy.

Suddenly the terrorist group from that game you went to earlier some fucking how shows up.

Does the school not have security?

The leader wants to kill the kid as a way of finishing what he started (he’s the guy who made the kid an orphan years prior). But you aren’t gonna let that happen. However, before you can do anything, the leader’s second hand man shoots you dead.

You die, all because of a little kid who is “Supposed to save the world” was allowed into a stupid competition due to teacher favoritism.

[sevendeadlymorons]

Hey I’m that one anon from a while back that sent those long ass paragraphs about Lilith and Simeon, remember me? Anyway I know I’m very late to the party, but some of the boys are either getting to much hate or too much love over here (in my opinion) so I made a pros and cons list for all of them, I’m sorry- (I’m warning you now this will be long but I’ll put it in bullet points so it’s a bit easier to read, just read it whenever your mentally ready lol)

Lucifer (I hate this man.)

Pros

He’d help a lot with getting your life together wether that be finding a job, choosing the right college or other shit like that

He’d make sure your working hard and getting everything done, which is both a blessing and a curse tbh

He would be the one to take the most care of you whenever your ill psychically

Cons

He would probably overwork you

Doesnt have much time to spend on you and doesn’t make a effort to find more time unless your getting really sad about it

Probably wouldn’t be the best of help through issues with mental illness (he just doesn’t strike me as that type, feel free to disagree)

His pride would cause some serious problems in relationships :/

Mammon (I love this man.)

Pros

He’s the “if your sad, I’m sad” kind of guy so he does whatever he can to put a smile on your face

Makes his affection towards you known once he’s comfortable enough, mostly through things like hugs and head pats tho

He shows off anything you make, and I mean anything (you gave him a drawing? After showing it to everyone he puts it on the fridge. You wrote something? He reads it to everyone then puts it in his notebook to reread later, I think you get where I’m going with this)

Cons

There would probably be some communication issues due to his tsundere nature and habit of ignoring you when he’s mad

He’d get super mad at you when your trying to help him financially, maybe it’s a ego thing or maybe he’s just tired of hearing it

While his possessiveness is cute at times he’d definitely get way to overbearing if you don’t force him to cool it

Levi (I kin this man.)

Pros

He’d try to set up designated hangout times (like Friday is movie night, Tuesday is for RPGs etc)

Wanna spend time with him but aren’t very into what he’s into? While it will be harder to bond with him because of this I think if you REALLY wanted to hang with him he’d at least try to meet you in the middle (like if you like sports he’ll offer to play wii sports lol)

Insecurities getting you down again? Well never fear, levi is here! He’d find characters with flaws similar to those you see in yourself to prove that they don’t really matter (and since he struggles with insecurity himself he’d know how you feel and be one of the best at helping you through them)

Cons

Even if he makes an effort to meet you in the middle if you have different interests he’d refuse to get into “normie” stuff

He’ll guilt trip you constantly, even if it’s not on purpose (“Oh your hanging out with Asmo today? I get it, of course you’d wanna hang out with somebody cool and perfect like Asmo and not a gross yucky otaku like me”)

You have to initiate almost everything Hugs? You hug first. Handholding? You reach out to him. Confessions? You seriously thought he’d be the one to confess first??

Satan

Pros

Similar to Lucifer he’d be good at helping you get your life together and putting you on the right track

Unlike Lucifer, he’d actively make time for date nights and/or hangouts multiple times a week wether your going out for dinner or reading in front of the fireplace

While he himself might not be best at helping with comfort in the moment, he’d be great to turn to if you needed a long time treatment (you need a therapist? He’s got the best three in your area that you can afford and he found some helpful things you can do in this book)

Cons

As stated previously, he’s not the best with comfort, which can be an issue if you need a friend/partner who can be your biggest source of comfort (I’m not saying he’ll do nothing, it’ll just be kinda awkward ig)

If you vent to him about something he’ll always offer advice and while that can be good, sometimes all you want is someone to listen to you and getting advice can be annoying in the moment

I feel like hanging out with him you’d rarely ever get to talk about pointless things, everything would be serious you know? And while serious and deep conversations are good for bonding, some people (myself included) need to be able to talk about dumb things without having it turn philosophical

Asmo

Pros

He’s the best at boosting your confidence, there’s no competition

He’s more into spontaneous outings (he suddenly got the urge to go shopping, your coming with right?)

You can talk about just about anything with him, no judgment and he’ll never speak a word of it to anyone else if you don’t want him to (although he may brag to his brothers that you told him your secrets)

High emotional IQ

Cons

He has set things of things he’s interested in and his idea of trying the things your into is doing whatever it is for about 5 seconds then deciding it’s not for him

He cares a lot about looks, I don’t mean he’ll hate you or insult you cause he thinks your ugly, I mean he’ll constantly try to do your makeup, hair, and nails and he’ll always say things like “Your hair is a bit messy today, did you brush it? Yes? Well not good enough, let me do it” and “your wearing that out? There’s nothing wrong with it, I just think you’d look a lot cuter in this” and if your anything like me, that’ll get on your nerves a lot

While he’s great with emotional issues, if it’s a problem with anything like school or your job he’ll have no solution to offer, all you’ll get is a “You can do it!” and a good luck kiss

Narcissistic, need I say more?

Beel

Pros

He’s the best person to vent to, no judgment and tons of hugs and comfort food

He’s a mom friend, no explanation needed

Very supportive and always concerned for your health

Your in trouble? Call beel, he’ll help you and make sure your home safe before questioning you and will only lecture you out of love (unlike a certain older brother that will lecture you because “Your tarnishing Diavlo’s reputation by acting out like this. Your an exchange student, you must abide by the rules and behave yourself.”)

Cons

Food is his answer to everything (Sad?Food. Injured? Food. School’s stressful? Food plus a little help studying) and while food can be good for comfort, sometimes you need him to provide more than a snack

He’s the opposite of Satan in the sense that he’ll almost never offer advice when you rant to him, he just assumes getting it all out is help enough and won’t offer much more then a hug and food

Not getting along with one of his brothers? “They can be a handful, but they’re great people once you learn to handle the chaos” yeah he rarely thinks what his brothers did is a big deal so he gives you advice on how to apologize and get past it and he’ll give you food

Belphie (he really does attract the mentally ill people huh-)

Cons

I feel like he’d be good for certain people with social anxiety and people who have issues with always being scared about being a bad person (“you think your a bad person and are becoming more and more toxic by the day? Well your a better person than Lucifer that’s for sure, wether or not your toxic were going to cuddle now get in bed” or “your worried everyone is constantly staring and judging you for everything you do? Well I don’t really care about what your wearing or the way you walk so I doubt they do either, can we go home now?” ((Side note, I experience both of these issues and his uncaring personality would calm me, which is why I think this one of his pros))

He just wouldn’t care about whatever type of life style you lead and as someone who’s constantly scared of being judged for their lifestyle this would be amazing (“you sleep all the time? Same let’s nap together” “You don’t eat very healthy? Whatever, it’s fine, can we sleep now?” ((although it is a double edged sword))

He gets a burst of energy and just does the most random things (you see that tree? He’s already climbed half way up it. That petting zoo? He’s already feeding the lambs. That store? He’s already spent 30 grim)

Cons

Just like his twin he thinks every problem has one solution, but instead of food he thinks the solution is sleep (your sick? Sleep is the best medicine. A lot of homework? If you sleep you don’t have to think about it.)

At some point he just doesn’t care enough, if you come to him with a serious issue he’ll half listen to you rant then pull you down to sleep

He teases you a lot, which is fine teasing is fun, but he takes it too far. Maybe he touched on something your insecure about or he was too merciless, whatever it was, he won’t apologize for it, he just thinks your being sensitive. If he brought up some bad memories he’ll consider it, but his way of apologizing is cuddling

He doesn’t wanna do something? You guys aren’t gonna do it. You don’t wanna do something? Too bad, he wants to so your gonna.

I’m sorry this is so long- I tried to shorten it I swear- but anyway if you disagree I’m with anything, I wanna hear what you think

And even tho Beel doesn’t get much screen time and more serious moments, I think his character is way more then hunger

Random but I wanna add that other then Levi I kin Tamaki from mha and Ranpo from bsd

Dude do you just like torturing poor college students? This is so much to read, I’m about to cry 😭

I agree with the Lucifer part actually! Tho I do kinda thing he’s be good emotion support in some ways, for me, anyway. I feel like he may lack empathy that is needed in a stable relationship. Yes, he may be able to tell you with shit and honestly, he’d book my doctors appointments when I’m too anxious too so yknow. But yeah

Also agree with mammon. He’s a jackass when he wants to be, and I know he may not mean it, but his words are still hurtful in a lot of ways and he just can’t convey those emotions that’re needed in a loving relationship. But he’s so sweet and will show you off so it’s all good~

As much as I love Levi, I agree. He manipulates and guilt trips you throughout the entire game. It can’t be healthy in relationships but that don’t stop me from loving that sweet otaku boy 😔🖤

I agree with Satan too. I don’t have much to say but he’s avatar of wrath for a reason, for a start, and he honestly looks like he’d prefer talking about books than that funny thing that happened in class that made you laugh earlier

Agreed with Asmo too. Sometimes he may just get overbearing and the narcissism and the constant need to make you look better and improve you may get irritating

I agree with Beel. I don’t think he can comprehend that food isn’t an answer to everything and as a person who doesn’t cope with food and relatively hates it, he won’t be any help to me emotionally. He’s so sweet but he just won’t give you that proper support

I love Belphie so so much but I absolutely agree. He’s one of the most unbothered brothers who won’t care what you look like, yes, but that also means compliments may come rarely and like his twin, “sleep is the answer to everything” I can admit I like to sleep but I have a manic side that comes with insomnia and if he’s dragging me down and not letting me move and I just cannot sleep, I’m gonna get irritated and pissed off.

This got a bit long on my end too. I just really liked how you worded this and it was fun to see pros and cons of the ‘perfect’ brothers

I think Beel is more than food too, but I just don’t particularly like him either way cuz I’m not really a foodie so I can’t relate with him lmao

[gukyi]

four weeks | kth

summary: four weeks. that’s how long you’re trapped on campus after missing your flight home because of a grossly overtime final. and as you’re walking around your empty campus, thinking that you could sink no lower, you find yourself alone in the art building with a certain freshman-year-dorm-neighbor from hell, and he’s got an offer that you don’t think you can refuse: he’s staying on campus this winter break as well, and he’s happy to let you live with him.

or, four weeks is all it takes to fall in love.

{enemies to lovers!au, roommates!au, college!au}

pairing: art and chemistry double major kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, comedy, the whole nine!! word count: 20k warnings: alcohol consumption (be safe!), unwanted sexual advances (not between main characters and not at all explicit), and a ton of college tomfoolery. a/n: i’m finally finished with my very first semester of college! it was a lot, but finishing this fic was a treat after my damn finals, which were very stressful. this is part of the stranded for christmas collab, and i’m so honored to be doing this with such amazing, talented writers! please give them and their fics lots of love, and enjoy this super fun train wreck of a fic!

Admittedly, Global Politics in the Twentieth Century has never treated you particularly well. 

Your lecturer is about as interesting as grass growing, the readings are low quality scans of book pages with the tiniest font and absolutely no line spacing, and any friends you had in that class in the beginning of the semester dropped out of it by the time mid-September rolled around, leaving you trapped due to societal pressures and a History and Politics general education requirement you still have yet to finish. 

But, of all the things you could imagine Global Politics in the Twentieth Century doing to you, like charging you an exorbitant $200 dollars for a textbook you would never open anyway, burning your house down, or even straight up just murdering you, this is by far the worst. 

It’s bad enough that your final for Global Politics in the Twentieth Century is on the last possible day for finals at the latest possible time, but when the clock strikes 8:00PM and you have just about fucking had it with this semester, you realize that no one else is standing up. 

This panic intensifies as you begin thinking of all of the terrible things that could be the reasoning behind this: you’re just the dumbass who finished their final first and got all of the questions wrong, the clocks have yet to adjust to daylight savings and you think that it’s 8:00PM when really it’s 7:00PM, or, worst of all, your final is running overtime. 

You have only ever heard of horror stories about overtime finals. Things like having to cram the next three-hour final into one hour, or having to reschedule the final to some other time that is equally as conflicting. Stuff that is, to a normal human being, a minor to moderate inconvenience at best (and to an overdramatic college student—pure, unadulterated hell), but when this is the last final on the last day at the latest time, there are no other finals to be had. No other school-related scheduling conflicts barreling into you. 

It’s just your luck, really, that on the last day of the semester, at the latest time you are allowed to be here, Global Politics in the Twentieth Century would come back to bite you in the ass one last time. As if all the times you dozed off in class (or just plain skipped), forgot to turn in your reading analyses, and showed up late to your recitation are finally catching up to you. Like the very worst kind of karma that could ever befall you. 

Well, to be fair, it’s not as if the rest of the day has treated you any better. The entire time you’ve been awake on this fine December day has been an absolute trash can of a day. 

This is how the beginning of your very last day of the semester played out:

Your alarm went off at 8:00AM sharp, purposefully set that early so you could wake up and have a productive day studying before your final at 6:00PM.

You hit snooze and ended up waking up around 11:33AM.

You scrambled out of bed very inelegantly and attempted to get your life together before noon so you could at least have six hours worth of a productive study day before your final. 

You remembered that you hadn’t packed yet, so you spent the next hour frantically stuffing your belongings into the singular carry-on sized suitcase meant to last you through your month-long winter break. 

You also realized that you hadn’t done your laundry for the week (well, week and 6 days…), and you obviously want to bring clean clothes back home so you spend the next two hours doing your laundry and finishing up your packing.

By the time you finally managed to get the time to study, the panic had fully nestled itself into your bones, so you could not focus and spent the next three hours staring at your study guide and praying that osmosis would kick in so you could actually retain information. 

You left to go to your final five minutes later than you should have and then ran across campus (with absolutely no dignity left) in order to get there on time. 

You arrived at your final just in time, only for there to be technical difficulties with printing the exam because your professor is a procrastinator, just like you are.

The next thirty minutes were then spent contacting the IT department, attempting to fix the printer, having to go print in another building, and then coming back with the final exam to a room of aggravated students who thought that they would be thirty-minutes into the exam by now. 

You are taking the final exam. It’s stupid difficult and you’re absolutely going to tank it. 

You are watching as the final runs overtime for about half an hour.

You are watching as the final runs overtime for about an hour. 

You are watching as the final runs overtime for about an hour and a half.

And on your very last day of the fall semester, your final runs overtime by two whole hours because of some mystic force determined to ruin your life, and your flight heading back home took off fifteen minutes ago. 

You know, it could be worse. You could have failed all of your classes. Instead, you paid an exorbitant $500 to miss your flight, fail your Global Politics in the Twentieth Century final, and end up trapped on campus for all of winter break because you don’t have the money to buy another plane ticket at such late notice (or at all). 

So, it could be worse. 

You trudge out of your final exam and try not to burst into tears on your way back to your dormitory. Barely anybody is left on campus now that finals are officially over, but you still want to save that last shred of dignity. As you’re walking down the pathway, you begin to feel wet splotches on your face. For a moment, you think that they are fat tears rolling down your face, but you look at the cobblestone beneath your feet and realize that instead, it’s raining. 

The perfect weather to match your mood, if you’re being honest. 

Not wanting to get caught in a downpour, you end up taking refuge in the coffee shop connected to the art building on campus. It’s a genius business design, if you say so yourself, because there is no one more dependent on caffeine than sleep-deprived, eyebag-laden art students. Surprisingly enough, there are still people behind the counter bustling around, so you use the last of your university dollars to order a peppermint hot chocolate to warm your insides (but not your cold, dead soul). 

From there, you take a quick detour to explore the art building, a building you have, admittedly, never really taken much of a look at. It must be empty now, with everyone off campus—except you, of course—which gives you the perfect opportunity to wallow in peace while admiring art. 

Walking inside, you stare at your reflection in the enormous glass walls. Look at your tired eyes, slouched shoulders, lips pressed thin, and hands warmed only by the heat of your cardboard coffee cup. Count each acne mark and hair out of place. It’s almost like you’re watching yourself as you look in the mirror, a third person standing in the background. The audience. Like the person who’s looking back at you isn’t you at all. 

It's quite artistic, actually. Ironically enough.

But no matter how picturesque, how cinematic this particular moment of your life is, nothing can really soothe you after missing your flight, failing your final, and pretty much having the worst day of your entire life.

Just then, you hear footsteps echoing down the halls.

You assume that it must just be a professor leaving their office, or even maybe one of the hardworking security guards, but as you watch the glass walls to catch a glimpse of who's passing by, you realize that it's not a professor, or a security guard, or even a very large mouse scurrying across the floor.

"I thought I would be the last one in here," Kim Taehyung says when he spots you, stopping in his tracks with a canvas about half the size of him underneath his arm.

"So did I," you muse in response, not really wanting to turn around to save yourself the trouble of talking to him.

Still, Kim Taehyung has always been one hell of an observant guy, so by the time he's stopped behind you, he's already peering into the reflection of the glass windows to look at who he's talking to.

"Y/N?" He asks, walking up to you with his eyebrow raised. He comes over, standing next to you as you look at each other's reflections in the glass. "Never thought I'd see you in here."

"Me neither, to be honest," you say. Seeing as you aren't a visual studies major, you never really considered the art building to be a location of top priority. Until now, that is.

The last time you spoke to Kim Taehyung was the last day of your freshman year, when everybody was getting ready to move out, packing up their belongings and removing the fifteen thousand Command hooks stuck to their walls. You and him made eye contact as you placed the last of your boxes for the semester into those enormous Residential Services carts, glaring at each other from your adjacent rooms. 

“First year flew by, didn’t it?” Taehyung asks, smirk lacing his features. 

“Thank God it’s over,” you tell him. 

“Not gonna miss me, huh?” Taehyung winks, and it makes you want to take this cardboard box filled with all of the notebooks and lined paper and folders you used throughout the year and chuck it at his head. 

“Miss you?” You ask with a scoff. With the final box finally out of your room, you can officially lock the door behind you, closing the chapter on your very first year at university. “Please. Nothing makes me happier than the fact that I don’t have to live next to you anymore.”

“Why are you still here?” Taehyung asks, tapping his fingers on the side of the canvas underneath his arm. “Thought you’d be off campus by now.”

“I had a late final,” you say, pretending that your life and every aspect of it is fine when it is, in fact, not fine at all. The best case scenario is that Taehyung accepts your bullshit answer for what it is and heads off to do whatever it is that he does, leaving you alone so you can wallow in pity and ponder the meaning of life. The worst case scenario is that Taehyung stays. 

And Taehyung has always been very good at picking the latter. 

“Ah, sucks, for what class?” Taehyung asks. You can’t tell if he’s genuinely curious or just wants to interrupt your personal self-wallow time for as long as possible. 

“Global Politics in the Twentieth Century,” you tell him with a sigh. You don’t want to have to hear, say, read, or write that name ever again. 

“Oh, really? I took that class last semester,” Taehyung says with an eyebrow raised, surprised. “I thought it was super interesting.”

As if you needed any more proof that you and Kim Taehyung are exact opposites in every way. You are hardly surprised that Kim Taehyung enjoyed Global Politics in the Twentieth Century—not when the two of them have so much in common, like inconveniencing you, being annoying, and sort of always having it out for you. It’s like they were meant to be together. 

“I can’t say I thought the same,” you say pointedly, lips pursed into a tight line. 

“Ah, well, I never did peg you for a history buff,” Taehyung says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Why are you still on campus? I thought art students had to turn in their final projects on the first day of exams,” you ask, turning the focus onto him. It’s obvious that he has no intention of leaving you alone, so your next best option is to interrogate him until the tension between the two of you is so suffocating, so thick and heavy, that he wants to leave. 

“I had a couple of chem finals after I finished up my art classes,” Taehyung says. Right. You forgot he was doing a double major. “And, my parents are actually travelling this winter break, so I was planning on staying on campus. Didn’t really want to go back to an empty house, you know?”

After the day you’ve had, you can think of nothing better than opening the door to your home, knowing that you have the entire place to yourself and can spend the night in your bedroom, watching Netflix. 

“You’re staying on campus?” You ask. Great. The only two people who will be on campus this winter recess are you and Kim Taehyung. Fantastic. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, clearly unaffected. He seems particularly unbothered by the fact that he can’t go home, almost like he’s been looking forward to having the entire university to himself. “You’re about to head home, then, aren’t you? Just taking a quick break in the art building?”

Well, almost to himself. 

The chances of running into Taehyung this winter break, despite being probably the only two people on campus, is still slim. It’s a big campus, and there are people who are not part of the university that walk on campus all the time. 

And still, you don’t know what you’ll do if you lie to Taehyung and tell him you’re about to fly home, and then bump into him at the local coffee shop. You might just perish. That might be what happens. 

So, for once in your life, you suck it up and tell the truth. For once. 

“Actually, I missed my flight because of my final running overtime, so I’m sort of stuck here,” you tell him, and as the words leave your lips it feels like your whole body gets weighed down, like you’re cemented to the floor.

It’s only then that Taehyung actually turns to face you, so you aren’t standing shoulder to shoulder and staring at the rain pattering on the pavement outside. You look at him, meeting his eyes and to your surprise, they aren’t filled with mirth. He hasn’t got this pleased grin on his face. He’s not milking this situation for what it could be milked for at all. He could be standing here, bathing in the satisfaction of your timely demise, and he’s not. 

He actually looks quite sad. 

“Really?” He asks, genuine. 

“Yeah,” you say, and it’s then that you accept your fate, resign yourself to the fact that you’re trapped on campus with no way (and no money) to get home, and try to look for the silver lining. “So, I’ve actually got to get going, grab my stuff and everything.”

“Oh, do you live off campus?” Taehyung asks. “We should get together sometime this break. Who else are we gonna talk to, right?” 

Spending time with Taehyung on your lonely-ass winter break sounds like the absolute worst thing in the entire world. It’s been two years since the last time you were forced to be within fifty feet of each other, so even having this conversation is taking you by surprise.

“No, I’m still staying on campus. But my dorm is closing for the winter break, so I need to go and find an Airbnb or something to stay somewhere,” you say, feeling your heart break at the notion of spending even more money this winter break after having watched your $500 dollar airplane ticket get flushed down the toilet. 

Taehyung stays silent, eyes gazing at the lines between the linoleum tiles on the floor. He’s stopped tapping on the side of his canvas, a painting which you still haven’t fully gotten a glimpse of. In the quiet of the art building, the dust settles, and you wait for Taehyung to say something. Anything. 

After a few more seconds, you decide that the two of you have been standing in awkward silence for long enough. 

“Well, I’ll see you around, I guess,” you say nervously, letting out an unnatural and forced laugh as you turn on your feet and begin to head towards the exit. You have no idea where you’re going to go or what you’re going to do, but what you do know is that you have to be out of your building by noon tomorrow, so you’ve got less than a day to figure it out. 

And then, Taehyung says the worst thing he could possibly say at this given moment:

“Do you wanna stay with me?”

You stop dead in your tracks. 

“What?”

“You don’t have to say yes,” Taehyung immediately clarifies, as if that makes the offer any less sudden. “But I live in an off-campus apartment year round, so you could always stay with me if you’d like. You wouldn’t have to book an Airbnb or anything. But you don’t have to.”

You close your eyes, feeling your chest rise and sink as you inhale and exhale. You can’t believe you’re actually considering his offer. You can’t believe that Taehyung would willingly offer up his personal abode, his private apartment to you, the freshman year next-door neighbor who knocked on his door every six hours to tell him to shut the fuck up. You cannot believe that you are on the verge of accepting. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, both eyebrows raised. Yes, the idea of free lodging and no-hassle appeals greatly to you, but you’re not so certain that Taehyung or you actually want this. After all, you spent all of freshman year hating on each other’s living habits as personal hobbies of yours. “You don’t have to offer just because I don’t have a place to stay. Seriously.”

“No,” Taehyung says, taking a step towards you. It’s barely a foot, but it feels like he’s a thousand miles closer to you than he was before. “I mean it. If you want to stay with me, you’re welcome to. I have a futon in my living room that you can sleep on. I’m being serious.”

You cannot believe that he’s asking this. 

You cannot believe you’re considering this. 

You cannot believe you’re about to say yes to this. 

“You really mean it?” You ask one more time, just so you can be certain. You’d hardly be surprised if this whole thing was just a mindfuck. 

“I do,” Taehyung says. “No matter what, I don’t think anybody should be alone for the holidays.”

“Then yes,” you say, letting Taehyung catch up to you as you begin to walk towards the exit, step by step. “I’d really appreciate it.” You turn to look at him, your eyes meeting his own chocolate brown ones, nearly ink black in the dark. You can’t offer much, certainly not anything to top this gracious proposal, but you smile, and he smiles back, and you think that’s enough. 

Your first order of business is trekking back to your dormitory and grabbing your fully-packed suitcase. At least spending an hour shoving as many of your belongings as possible into a tiny carry-on has its benefits despite you not setting foot in the airport. 

“Been a long time since we’ve done this,” Taehyung comments mindlessly as you walk through campus, following the cobblestone path as a shortcut to his apartment. 

“Done what?” You ask snarkily. “Hung out with each other?” You scoff. You and Taehyung spent all of freshman year skirting around each other, desperately trying to avoid contact while also banging on each other’s doors every ten minutes. It was essentially two semesters worth of shouting at each other through walls and sneering when you actually locked eyes. 

“Talked,” Taehyung simplifies, because he’s right. 

“Isn’t that what we were aiming for?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, turning to look at him as your suitcase wheel skips on a stone out of place. “I thought we had reached that consensus already.” It’s been a year and a half since you last spoke to each other. You were almost confident that, without any overlapping classes, you would be able to keep that streak going long after graduation. 

As it turns out, things change. 

“I don’t know if we ever actually agreed on that,” Taehyung says, thinking back. “Almost like it went…” he pauses, and you can’t be sure if it’s for dramatic effect or because he actually doesn’t know what to say. “Unspoken.”

The irony is not lost on you. In fact, it hits you smack dab in the forehead as you watch Taehyung’s curious expression morph into the sleazy frat boy one he wore so much back then. He looks very pleased with his pun. It makes you want to sock him in the face. 

And as it turns out, some things never change. 

You resist the urge to punch him in the shoulder because he offered you a place to stay for this break and you sort of (actually, really) owe him big time right now. But that doesn’t mean you can’t send a disapproving frown, which seems to do the trick. 

“I distinctly remember how you were so excited to never have to live next to me again when we moved out,” Taehyung says like he’s remembering a fun trip to the zoo. Almost like he looks upon the last time you ever interacted with each other fondly. 

You mentally sigh. If only freshman year you knew what was going to happen in the middle of your junior year. If only your final hadn’t run overtime by two hours. If only you had booked a later flight. 

If only. 

“I don’t remember that at all,” you lie like a liar, saying the words as the picture of you snarkily spitting them at Taehyung at the end of your freshman year plays in your brain on repeat. 

“You sure about that, Y/N?” Taehyung says, turning to look you up and down. He’s always been such a people reader, and you’ve always felt so helplessly transparent in front of him. Even back then. Even now. “Because I don’t really think that your memory is that bad.”

“Nope, no, I don’t,” you say quickly, trying to get Taehyung to stop eyeing you like you’re a question on an exam that he thinks is suspiciously easy. 

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter then, does it?” Taehyung muses as you round the street corner and his apartment complex comes into view. “Since we’ll be living together, anyway.”

“Miss you? Please. Nothing makes me happier than the fact that I don’t have to live next to you anymore.”

Before you can wheel your cart down the hallway and kiss your freshman year goodbye, Taehyung opens his mouth and says one more thing. You almost don’t hear him, too busy reminding yourself that you’ll never have to see him again, but then he says, “One day, Y/N, you’re going to realize that we’re closer than you think.”

When you walk into Taehyung’s apartment, your eyes zero in on these three things: the navy blue futon pushed up against the wall by his television and the fact that it doesn’t look like the kind of used furniture from off of the street that most college kids typically resort to, the little wooden kitchen table that looks straight out of a family-owned Italian restaurant (looks like the two of you will be eating dinner together), and the paintings on the walls. 

“Did you paint these?” Is the first thing you ask once you’re inside, putting your suitcase up against the wall as Taehyung takes off his coat. 

“Those? Yeah, I did them early last year. My walls looked so damn plain without anything on them.”

In freshman year, Taehyung seemed like the kind of artsy hipster who shopped at Urban Outfitters and put vinyl records on his wall with Command Strips but never actually listened to them. 

But the pieces on his walls aren’t vinyls of bands like Arctic Monkeys and Modern Baseball. They’re paintings, oil and acrylics and even a bit of charcoal. Still life and portraits and shadows. 

You had never seen one of his paintings before. You never imagined you’d ever want to, or even get the chance to. And now, you’re standing in the middle of his apartment, and you’re surrounded by them. 

“They’re…” You trail off, eyes bouncing from wall to wall as you take all of them in. There’s at least ten, one, if not two on each wall in sight. His bedroom is probably filled with them. His apartment’s not enormous, rather small since it’s only got one bedroom, but the paintings make the whole place bigger. Make it feel full of life. 

“They’re alright,” Taehyung finishes. He’s already grabbing extra blankets from the storage closet in the side of the wall. “They were assignments we had during the semester so I figured that they’d be put to good use on my wall.”

“It’s very impressive,” you admit. “Kind of a flex, but an impressive flex.” There is something so perfectly Taehyung about the fact that he’s got art all over his walls, but they’re his very own pieces that he has framed and hanging, on display for the entire world to see if they’d like. 

“They’d collect dust otherwise,” he says with a shrug. He tosses two blankets and a pillow your way, letting them plop onto the futon. “Are those enough blankets? It can get fucking cold in here, so I don’t want you to freeze to death or anything.”

And for a moment, you think that Taehyung has actually outgrown his asshole-y freshman days, maturing into someone with an actual moral backbone.

“How considerate,” you say sarcastically, “but I think I’ll be alright. I’m a big, strong girl.”

“Just don’t come crawling into my bed if you want a taste of that weighted-blanket life,” Taehyung says, pretending to flip his hair. “Though, I wouldn’t blame you if you did want to sleep with me.”

With a pillow right at your disposal, you waste no time grabbing it and chucking it straight at Taehyung’s face. He easily dodges, having spotted the move from a mile away, and chuckles. 

“Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that,” he says disapprovingly, shaking his head as he makes his way to the kitchen. “Your arm was much stronger back in freshman year.”

Scowling, you watch as he puts on the kettle to boil, letting the water begin to bubble as he goes about his business like he doesn’t have a guest in his living room that absolutely can’t stand him. 

And you realize that maybe Taehyung’s a couple of years older, a couple of years wiser, but that doesn’t make him a couple of years any less unbearable.

If you were a sleep-deprived engineering student three cans of Monster deep who, in their 4AM haze, invented a time machine to go back to freshman year, and you told your eighteen-year-old self that you would be living under the same damn roof as Kim Taehyung in two years time, freshman year you would probably sock you in the face. And ask you if you changed majors. Which, you did.

It’s not a far reach to wonder why. By the time October rolled around, the two of you had already established yourselves as archenemies until the end of time. 

It was a natural progression, really. Two tiny dorm rooms right next to each other, two beds pressed up against opposite sides of the same paper-thin wall, and two disgruntled freshmen trying their hardest not to die of alcohol poisoning. 

Now, you don’t have a track record for going to sleep at a reasonable hour. In fact, you don’t think you’ve gone to bed before 11PM since middle school. But is it really that irrational of you to want to get some well-deserved shuteye at two in the morning after a long day of procrastination and a long night of doing the studying you should have done during the day? Your roommate is fast asleep across from you, having gone to sleep at midnight like a regular college student who has her life together, which means that she’s immune to the fact that right next door, you can hear nothing but pounding drums making the very linoleum floor of your dormitory shake. 

Scowling, you scramble out of bed, sliding on your shoes to go give a certain Kim Taehyung a bit of a reprimanding. 

Why the fuck does he listen to heavy drums at two in the morning? What the fuck is he doing? Does he not own headphones, or anything that might restrict the sound to his own two ears and nothing else? Does he not have any respect for the people next door to him that might also have to listen to the sound of a thumping bass while they’re trying to go to sleep?

Some of you have 9AM’s tomorrow morning. And by some of you, you mean you. 

You quietly shut the door behind you so as not to wake your roommate, dead-bolting it so you don’t get locked out and have to trudge down to the Help Desk looking like a tired piece of non-recyclable garbage, and immediately bang on Kim Taehyung’s door. He hasn’t got a roommate, and you know he’s awake, which means that if he doesn’t respond, you’ll know why. 

Surprisingly enough, he does, opening the door and immediately grinning once he sees who’s on the other side, like he can’t get enough of the fact that his mere existence bothers you. 

“It’s 2AM,” you tell him, in lieu of a greeting. 

He checks his watch. “That it is.”

“Would you mind turning down the music? I’m trying to go to sleep.”

“This late, Y/N?” Taehyung asks, an eyebrow raised. “No wonder you’re always so cranky.”

“Maybe it’s because my next-door neighbor plays loud fucking music when I’m trying to go to sleep!” You say, already beginning to raise your voice like a loser who can’t control her emotions.

Which is exactly what you are, actually. So this is very on brand for you. 

“Hmm, never thought about it that way,” Taehyung says innocently. He’s got a gleam in his eye that says otherwise. 

“I’m being very nice to you right now, Kim Taehyung. Please turn your music down. Because it’s loud and you’re probably bothering other people as well,” you say, restraining yourself. If you were any more sleep-deprived you’d storm into his room and pound in his face like it was the fucking drums he’s listening to. 

“But you’re my only neighbor,” Taehyung says, a bitter reminder that you were unlucky enough to be the second-to-last room in the corridor, and he, the very last one. 

You inhale, trying to not lose your cool despite having probably already lost it. Kim Taehyung makes you want to tear your eyeballs out. Or buy heavy-duty earplugs off of Amazon Prime. The thing is, one of those options costs you money, and one is entirely free. So, it’s not difficult to see which one you’re leaning towards. 

“Taehyung, please turn your music down, or so help me God. I’m asking nicely,” you can feel the carbon dioxide paths coming from your nose as you breathe, in and out and in and out. 

“Just for you, Y/N,” Taehyung says with a grin. God. You could just straight sock him in the face right now. “It helps me focus, but so does getting to see you.”

“Perish immediately,” you tell him sharply before pulling the door shut, marching back off to your room. 

True to his word, Kim Taehyung does turn off his music. Or puts in headphones. At least he’s conceded.

That is, until you wake up to a crash of glass later that morning at 7AM, coming from only one direction. 

The fact of the matter is, everything you and Taehyung did that year bothered the other so immensely that hatred, pure, unadulterated dislike, was really the only thing that could have come out of it. 

“You still listening to loud ass drums in the middle of the night?” You ask, eyeing the speakers by Taehyung’s television as you sit on his couch (as far apart from each other as possible) and eat some leftover spaghetti. 

“I invested in some AirPods as a treat to myself last year, so yes, but don’t worry,” Taehyung says. He’s mindlessly flicking through the available Hulu options on his TV, severely unimpressed by every one of them. 

“Wow, AirPods, sounds like you’re moving up in the world,” you say callously. “At least I don’t have to listen to it with you anymore.”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it helped me focus,” Taehyung says, all matter-of-fact about it. “It was from a Spotify playlist of modern orchestral music. You should give it a listen, it really gets you into the zone.”

“My relationship with classical music has, unfortunately, been tainted by a certain someone,” you remind him, taking the time to shoot him a glare just in case he doesn’t already know who exactly is at fault. 

“What a shame, you might actually like it,” Taehyung says sadly, shaking his head. 

“So what are the speakers for, then? If not for your fuckin’ drums,” you ask, motioning to them again as you slurp up the last of your spaghetti. It’s not as if you’ve got some sort of sacred reputation to protect in front of him. He’s seen you at your best (the first day of freshman year, when there was still light in your eyes), and at your worst (2AM, coming out of a drunken stupor, and bedhead-ridden). Like an ex-boyfriend, or something. 

“My friends really like singing karaoke,” Taehyung says. He points to the bluetooth microphones underneath the television as extra proof. 

“Why does that not surprise me,” you muse to yourself. Taehyung always struck you as someone that needs people not to calm him down, but to elevate his already boisterous personality. Friends who are equally as unabashed as he is. 

“Since you’re here for a whole month, we should try it some time,” Taehyung suggests, taking the empty bowl from your hands and heading back to the sink to wash up. 

“You need help with that?” You ask, immediately getting up because even if Taehyung has a tendency to drive you up the wall, you’re still going to be a good guest.

“No, don’t sweat it,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “You know, I have karaoke for All I Want For Christmas Is You. Super seasonal, right?” 

You dust off your hands from where you’re standing, loitering in that weird halfway point between his kitchen and his living room. Checking the clock underneath his television, you realize that it’s already past ten. And while you haven’t gone to sleep this early in a while, being in Taehyung’s apartment makes you feel all sorts of strange. Subdued and exhausted, too grateful to be your normal aggressive and witty self. And after such a long goddamn day, passing out on his navy blue futon seems like absolute heaven. 

“Not right now,” you say, shaking your head. Karaoke is something that friends do with other friends. And despite currently living under the same roof, you and Kim Taehyung are not friends. 

(But perhaps you will be. And that’s the scary part.)

You sigh, absolutely tanked. It’s been a stupidly long day. “Maybe later.”

Living with Taehyung is a sort of strange limbo you never, in a million years, pictured yourself in. You aren’t close enough to be friends but you’ve matured out of being the true enemies you had both envisioned the yourselves as in freshman year. The both of you walk around his apartment like you’re afraid to talk to the other, waiting patiently for the bathroom when the other person’s inside, trying to keep yourself busy with nonexistent work (it is winter break, after all) and the apps on your phones. 

This is the sort of thing you dreamed of when you were a freshman. A Kim Taehyung that you could co-exist with peacefully. Someone who didn’t spend every waking moment of his life making every waking moment of yours unbearable. You used to find excuses to sleep overnight in the library (it was open 24/7, after all) just so you wouldn’t have to go back to your dorm and see his stupid face. Now, the two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch minding your own goddamn business and doing two totally unrelated activities. In silence. The only noises being his refrigerator/freezer combo when it starts making ice and the sounds of your fingers hitting the keyboards on your laptops. Maybe he’s playing a video game on the Playstation 4 he keeps out in the living room, but he has headphones on and isn’t saying a word. 

It’s a very strange sort of limbo indeed, because no opportunities arise for you to become friends nor do any arise for you to become enemies. At this rate, you’ll live together for the month-long winter break and when it ends, you’ll go back to never speaking to each other again. 

And that, strangely enough, makes you sad. Makes you want to reach out to him, try and build up a relationship that last ended in absolute chaos so that when you leave this place, it won’t have been for naught. You will have gained something from it, no matter how small. 

But just like usual, Taehyung beats you to it. 

“Hey,” he says one day, walking into the living room and already pulling on his overcoat. “You free right now?”

“Yeah, why?” You ask, shutting your laptop as you turn to him. He’s all dressed up and you’ve been wearing the same hoodie for the past forty-eight hours. 

“Let’s get hotpot. I’m freezing and I want some hot soup and meat.”

So, you go and get hotpot. 

Like any normal university with more than approximately three East Asians enrolled, there’s a hotpot place right off campus that many a college student frequent. You have, admittedly, not been since freshman year, but this winter break you seem to be reaching back into all of those memories anyway, like a can of worms. Memory worms. 

“I’m starving,” Taehyung says as the two of you sit down. He’s already opening the menu, eyeing all of the different ingredients he can order for a simple All-You-Can-Eat fare. “Plus, I’ve been craving hotpot for weeks now.”

As if on cue, his stomach grumbles and you can hear it from across the booth.

“Even my tummy knows,” Taehyung says, placing a palm to his belly to soothe it. “Have you gotten hotpot before?”

“Yeah, but it was a while ago. I just never had the time to go for a whole two hours and pig out on food,” you say with a sigh. It’s been so long that you barely remember what it tastes like. 

“Then we’ll spend every minute that we’re allowed to here, eating as much food as we want and gaining a few pounds while we’re at it,” Taehyung says, determined. The waiter comes by to pour you both some water and he already begins to order, pointing to about fifteen different things on the menu before the waiter whizzes off. 

“I don’t think I heard a single word you told that guy,” you say candidly. Taehyung listed everything off so quickly that it went right over your head. 

“I just ordered a lot of food, so be prepared,” Taehyung says like it’s a promise. He’s got this glint in his eye, one that tells you that you should be glad you came on a fairly-empty stomach because it’s about to be filled to the brim. 

And prepared you are. Within five minutes of Taehyung ordering, there are plates and dishes and boards of food in front of you and a steaming pot of broth in the middle. There’s so much on the table that you can hardly see the marble table top underneath. 

Taehyung dives right in, clearly an experienced hotpot eater. He grabs two bowls filled with various sauces and pops a couple of the vegetables into his mouth as he waits for the broth to boil. And when it begins to bubble, he immediately begins dumping everything in sight into it, from meat to noodles to vegetables. It all looks ridiculously appetizing. 

When the first round of hotpot is over and done with, you already feel yourself starting to get sleepy just from the consumption overload. Taehyung, on the other hand, has apparently no limit and is already ordering more, pointing to another fifteen things on the menu. 

“Never thought we’d be doing this, did you?” Taehyung asks, and you can hear the knowing tone in his voice. Like he already knows how you’re going to answer him. 

“I have to admit that I never did,” you say. It must the food that’s softened you up. No wonder Taehyung invited you to a place where you can literally eat as much as you want in a two-hour timeframe. 

“This is nice, though, isn’t it?” He asks. 

And for once in your life, you agree. It is nice. Not just the food (though the food is very nice) but being with someone on a winter break that would otherwise be overwhelmingly lonely. Eating out with someone, even if it’s someone with whom your relationship isn’t all that strong, isn’t that sturdy. It’s nice. Because it means that, somewhere along the way, you both wanted something to change for the better. 

“It is.” You nod. “Way better than all the times we fought during freshman year.”

“Remind me why we never went to our RA to resolve things like we should have?” Taehyung says, but he doesn’t make it sound like you both made a mistake. He asks because he’s curious, and because the past is the past. 

“I think we were both too fucking prideful for our own good,” you say, shaking your head. You now would disapprove of you in freshman year so strongly. “We thought that we could either resolve it ourselves or spend the rest of our lives hating each other.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” Taehyung asks, holding up his water like it’s a glass of vintage red wine from the 1800’s. “That we thought that we could just spend the rest of our lives hating each other?”

“I was prepared to do it,” you say, taking another piece of meat from the hotpot in front of you, letting the steam waft from it like a tiny campfire. “With how big this school is, I was convinced that you and I would never have to see each other again. Never have the opportunity to change how we felt about each other.”

“But that’s not how life works, Y/N,” Taehyung tells you, looking into your eyes like he’s trying to reach into your soul, pick apart the memories of freshman year and watch as your relationship deteriorated as each day went by. “It doesn’t matter if we see each other every day for the rest of our lives or if, after this, we never say another word to each other. You will always have the opportunity to change how you feel about someone, even if you aren’t with them. Even if you aren’t seeing them at all.” He takes a deep breath, and reaches over the steaming pot of soup to nudge your shoulder with his finger, ever so slightly. It makes you look up at him, meet his dark brown eyes with your own, foggy from the steam. “That’s what makes us human, Y/N. We’re human because we can change.”

Your heart, still and silent, begins to thump. 

“Do you wanna go to New York?”

“Today?”

It’s early in the morning on Christmas Eve, and the two of you are wide awake after Taehyung’s neighbors a floor below him called the fire department as an early wake-up call for the entire complex. You’ve always been a light sleeper—Taehyung made sure of that in freshman year—but even he woke up as the fire trucks pulled up to the fire lane next to the apartment building. He came stumbling out of his room in nothing but a t-shirt two sizes too big and sweatpants hanging low on his hips, locks of his hair sticking every which way, face illuminated by the blue, red, and orange lights of the emergency vehicles beneath the window. 

And he stayed like that, even as the noise died down and the sun rose. He marched around looking like he had just rolled out of bed, barely sparing himself a second glance in the reflection of his refrigerator. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung responds like it’s obvious. “If we hopped on a bus now we could make it there by nine and spend the day there. How about it?”

“You mean, right now?” You ask, just as clarification. College and its many features have forced you to grow used to spontaneity, but it usually came in the form of “I’m hungry, so I am going to eat an entire bag of Hot Cheetos at this exact moment” or “Yes, my bank account is crying but these pants are very cute,” and not, “Do you wanna go to New York?”

“In a bit. Buses leave from here every hour to go to New York, especially since it’s the holiday season. Tickets are ten dollars. We could do it, if you’d like,” Taehyung says casually, like he’s suggesting that the two of you go grocery shopping or something else equally mundane. 

“Just for the day?” You ask, a girl of both many questions and a shocked expression. 

“Sure,” Taehyung says with a shrug, biting into a tomato as if it were a goddamn apple. “We can go to a museum or two, eat a nice lunch or dinner, and go ice skating at Rockefeller. See the tree, too. It’ll get us in the holiday spirit, don’t you think?”

And normally an outing to New York would have you planning weeks in advance, organizing reservations and buying tickets for entry into exhibits, but it’s winter break and you’ve got more free time than you know what to do with. 

And maybe you’d hate to admit it, but you need someone like Taehyung to get you off of your ass and out of the house, do something fun and spontaneous like college students do in the movies. 

Taehyung is practically a movie portrayal of a college student in real life. He’s spontaneous, secretive, sage. He’s artsy and worldly, paints but is also extremely smart and well-educated. He lives in a quaint off-campus apartment by himself and spends his days making friends and keeping busy. He loves to tease you, and has that sort of lopsided smirk that all casanovas do. And he is, as much as you’d hate to admit it, always been something of a looker. He’s got the same sort of handsome, classic look that young European men in paintings from the eighteenth century have, a portrait of them in the prime of their lives. One wink and he’d send every preteen girl in the audience to their knees.

And you? Well, you suppose you’re the tragically unlucky female lead who has to live with him until classes resume. 

Taehyung’s standing in the kitchen, leaning on the counter island as he scrolls for bus tickets on his phone. “There’s a bus leaving from the station in thirty minutes. Think we can make it?”

It might be the fact that you’ve been holed up in Taehyung’s apartment for the past forty-eight hours that makes you say yes. Or it’s the desperation to do something, anything, literally anything, to keep yourself busy this break. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that little voice in the back of your chest, one buried in the depths of your heart, that makes you go. Because there is something so wonderfully exhilarating about being spontaneous.  And there is something even more exciting about it being with someone you know. 

You grin. “Let’s do it.”

Two hours later, the two of you are standing outside Penn Station in New York City, staring at the road signs to try and orient yourself. It’s chilly and a little windy, but the sun beats down regardless, shadows of skyscrapers cast along the streets. 

You pull out your phone to pull up the Maps app, looking up directions, but Taehyung just begins to walk down 7th Avenue, not a care in the world. 

“Where are you going?” You say quickly, scrambling to catch up to him. This early in the morning, your breath still turns to fog as you jog towards him to meet his abnormally long strides.

“Do you want to go to the Met, MOMA, or Guggenheim?” Taehyung asks simply, like he’s trying to decide which type of Doritos to get in the chips aisle. 

“Uh…” you are, admittedly, not that particular to the art that you’ll see. Art does not have as much of an immediate relevance to you as other things in your life, like your bank account, or your final semester grades. “Why don’t you pick the museum, and I’ll pick the restaurant we go to?”

“Deal,” Taehyung says, that same devilish gleam in his eyes, a trick (or two) up his sleeves. Only this time, you aren’t afraid of what he’s got in store. 

You find that you are very much looking forward to it. 

Twenty minutes later sees the both of you standing outside the gigantic glass doors of the MOMA, surrounded by a pitch black exterior about as edgy and contemporary as the pieces of art inside. 

“You never struck me as a modern art kind of guy,” you tell Taehyung as the both of you walk inside, glass windows and ceilings on every side of you and a bustling crowd right in front of you. Modern art seems rather stuffy. And perhaps, two years ago, you would have equated Taehyung to such, but now, stuffiness couldn’t be the furthest adjective to describe him. He may be a little obnoxious and overwhelmingly charismatic, but he is certainly not stuffy. 

“I prefer Impressionism and the subsequent periods,” Taehyung tells you, another fact you never knew but happily stow away. “But I am, admittedly, a bitch for modern art, no matter how goddamn stupid it is.”

“Good to know we’re spending our money on a museum that will definitely be worth our while,” you say dryly, taking the two tickets from the woman behind the desk. You pick up a map while you’re at it, almost certain to get lost in this maze of a museum, but Taehyung is already zooming off, forcing you to scurry through the herds of people just to keep up his pace. 

“Do you know where we’re going?” You ask, entirely serious. You fumble to open up the map and suddenly you’ve got a piece of shiny paper larger than your backpack in your hands, overwhelmed. 

Taehyung stops, the two of you standing right by the middle of a doorway, blocking everybody’s path. And he places his hands on top of yours, lowering the map as you gaze up at him, wondering why the heck you haven’t moved to the side so you aren’t inconveniencing the thousands of people roaming the museum. His brows are soft, a little furrowed, like someone began to knit them together but then forgot halfway through. Like he’s thinking. Like he wants to tell you something. 

“No,” Taehyung says softly, large hands enveloping yours as he begins to fold the map back up, “I don’t know where we’re going.”

You open your mouth, about to prove your point, but Taehyung continues. 

“But I don’t need to. Because we’re supposed to get lost,” he tells you, honest, candid, and true. “That’s the whole point. It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey.”

You scoff, heart a little warm on the inside but wit still sharp. “You sound like an infomercial for a cruise.”

Taehyung laughs, tilting his head back in the way that says that he means it. “I’m serious, Y/N. Please. We don’t need a map. We can guide each other. All we need is faith, trust…” He pauses, leaning in and waiting for you to finish his sentence. 

Begrudgingly, you give in, mostly because he’s too naturally charming not to. “And pixie dust.”

Taehyung grins, satisfied, before he catches you by surprise, takes your hand in his, and pulls you into the elevator. 

Much like the corrupt businesses whose main offices are only a few minutes walk away, you go from the top down. Taehyung says that it is like a very, very long slide. You say that it’s an extremely slow walk. 

He’s an art student. You don’t really know what else you were expecting. He stares at each piece until it bores into his eyes, fills up another cup in his soul, overflowing with color, with light and meaning and everything in between. Every now and then, he and you stop at the same one, inspecting each and every detail, and Taehyung will lean to the side and whisper in your ear. 

He will tell you what he thinks of the medium, what he thinks of this piece and what he thinks of the positioning of that specific object. He tells you not how he interprets it in the eyes of the artist, but what it means to him, and how he perceives it. And, as the hours pass, you realize that, while you have been in museums before, you had never felt like you were truly there. And here you are, standing in front of priceless pieces of art with a boy in love with art beside you, and he holds your hand as he takes you through what brings him more joy than anything else. 

(Well, besides perhaps, chemistry.)

When you reach the first painting and sculpture floor, Taehyung lets out an audible gasp. 

You round the corner and before you know it, you’re standing in front of what could very well be the most famous painting of the nineteenth century. 

“I forgot it was here,” Taehyung says distantly, like he’s forgotten who he’s talking to. In the ink black of his pupils, you can see the oil painting reflected, the thick blue and yellow brushstrokes, each and every line on the canvas. 

“Now, this piece I’m familiar with,” you say, standing next to him and staring up at The Starry Night, an artistic feat, worth more than probably a hundred times your tuition, and a legacy. The legacy that The Starry Night left behind is one that you see still reflected today. You see it in all of the other people in this little room, clambering over one another just so they can get a glimpse. You see it in the little children who draw self-portraits in art class, Sharpies and markers and crayons littering the page. 

And you see it in the boy next to you, who loved something so much he knew that he would be doing it for the rest of his life. He would be following a legacy, forever, until he forged one of his own. You look not at the art but as Kim Taehyung gazes at it, memorizing each and every stroke and imprinting it onto his brain. And you finally realize what art means: passion. It means that it fills you up, flows through your blood and into your heart, consumes you. And it means that the only thing you can do to prevent it from eating you alive is to spread it, and let others get a taste of the madness. 

“It really is beautiful, isn’t it,” you muse. You don’t know much about art but when there is something so mesmerizing, so stunning, in front of you, it’s difficult not to notice. 

You feel Taehyung turn his head, letting the gaze of his piercing brown eyes rest upon your figure for a split second before he turns back. “It is,” he says. 

The way that the two of you go through art museums, by the time you emerge, it’s already dark and the streets are beginning to empty as tourists and cityfolk alike find places to eat, walking into every bar, restaurant, cafe, and house on the hunt for a good meal, whether homemade or curated. You had spent nearly an hour in the gift shop alone, laughing at the overpriced t-shirts and kitschy pillows. 

“Where to next, m’lady?” Taehyung asks as you push open the glass doors and let the biting cold hit your noses. 

“You know, we were so busy in there that I didn’t even have time to find a nice place to eat tonight,” you admit sheepishly. 

“That’s alright,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I like surprises. Spontaneity is my thing.”

“You don’t say,” you comment sagely, making Taehyung roll his eyes. 

Knowing that it’s nearly impossible to get a reservation now, you and Taehyung make your way south, following the flow of traffic heading towards Times Square and keeping an eye open for any places that look relatively nice and busy, but not too busy, the perfect sign of both a delicious and available restaurant. 

After walking for a few blogs, cuddling together (in a totally platonic way) to preserve as much body heat as possible in the now freezing weather, air no longer warmed by the sun’s rays, you stumble upon a tiny hole in the wall Mediterranean place. You can’t really see anything inside due to the fog on the window, forming from the combination of cold air and hot, but Taehyung does a quick google search and says that it’s a modern Mediterranean restaurant that specializes in pizza. Google says it has two dollar signs. You hear the word pizza, and everything pretty much goes out of the window. 

“Hi,” Taehyung says as you squeeze through the little hallway to get to the host, voice warm and silky. “Table for two?”

“Your last name, sir?” The man asks. 

“Oh, we don’t have a reservation,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. You two are college students. It’s not like you plan ahead anyway. 

“That’s okay, we still ask for every customer’s name for a more personalized experience,” the host says. He leans forward, eyes wide, waiting for Taehyung to respond. 

“Kim,” Taehyung says simply as the host gathers two menus and a wine list. 

“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” the host says, and you open your mouth to correct him (Because you are not married. You’re not. You’re not even dating. This is not a date. It’s not a date, right?), but Taehyung puts a finger to his lips and tells you to zip it. It’s almost like he’s enjoying this. 

For the rest of the evening, the wait staff all address you and Taehyung as Mr. and Mrs. Kim, which is absolutely outrageous for multiple reasons: you are college students, you both look like college students, you’re not dating, you don’t act like you’re dating (other than the hand-holding and cuddling which was purely out of survival and nothing else), and most importantly, you’re not interested in each other like that. That part is obvious. Isn’t it?

When you order a glass of champagne each they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When Taehyung has a question about one of the ingredients on one of the pizzas they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When you order your food they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When they come by to clarify Taehyung’s request of no anchovies they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. When they bring these massive pizzas and place them down on your table, wishing you a pleasant meal they call you Mr. and Mrs. Kim. 

Mr. and Mrs. Kim, they call you. 

“Everything alright, Mr. and Mrs. Kim?” Your waiter asks as you’re plowing through your individual pizzas very inelegantly. 

“Yes,” Taehyung grins cheesily. “Thank you very much.”

He’s positively beaming. 

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” You ask, a single eyebrow raised. 

“This pizza is really good,” Taehyung tells you. 

“Not that,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You know that Taehyung knows exactly what you’re referring to, he’s just being annoying about it, as per usual. “The whole ‘we’re married’ thing. You like it, don’t you?”

“The “Mr. and Mrs. Kim’ thing?” Taehyung says with a smile. He’s relishing in the feeling, especially when it’s obvious that you’re not as keen on the collective nickname. “I fucking love it. You don’t?”

“We’re college students,” you remind him. 

“So? That means that they think that we look old enough to not be college students. I consider that a win, especially because Jimin always says I look twelve,” Taehyung says with a shrug. 

“We’re not married,” you add. It’s the truth. 

“You’re right, we’re not, but Mr. and Mrs. Kim has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think? I love the way that it sounds,” Taehyung says. He basks in it. 

“We’re not even dating, Taehyung,” you say with a sigh, exasperated. Doesn’t he get it? It’s weird, being Mr. and Mrs. Kim, because you never have been. There never was a Mr. and Mrs. Kim. And quite frankly, there never will be. “We’re not even interested in it.”

“Who says?” Taehyung asks, and the path he’s directing this conversation down is not one you’d like to take. It’s rocky and bumpy and unclear, hazy with fog. You don’t do fog. You like when things are clear cut and visible. 

“I do,” you say with a frown. “Are you interested in dating me, Taehyung? Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to date you right now. Or, like, at all.”

Taehyung pauses. His brows are furrowed again, but all the way this time. He stares down at his pizza, and he contemplates. You sit there and watch him, feeling the weight of every second as it passes by. Were you too harsh? Maybe you were. But it was the truth, and he deserves something honest, even if it’s brutal. 

“Oh,” Taehyung says, like he wasn’t expecting those words to come out of your mouth. What you said has been lingering between you like smoke, refusing to dissipate. “Well, I—I guess that makes two of us.” It’s obvious that there’s something else there, just underneath the water, but you don’t press further. It sounds like he’d rather keep it hidden. 

When you leave, the waitstaff bid you goodbye exactly as you had predicted. 

“Enjoy your evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” they say cordially as you and Taehyung pull on your coats and hats and gloves and head out the door. 

“You too,” Taehyung says softly after a few seconds, like he was waiting for the words to fade away before speaking. “Thank you.”

Your bus leaves from Penn Station at 9:30 that night, and it’s barely seven. Plenty of time for you to continue exploring, see Times Square all lit up like it’s New Year’s Eve, go up to the top of the Empire State Building, or even take a peek into Central Park at nighttime, when the moon is high and the lanterns are lit. 

“How about we go ice skating?” Taehyung suggests as the two of you walk along the pavement, side by side. Your hands are buried deep into the pockets of your coat. 

“At Rockefeller?”

“Sure, why not?” Taehyung says. That sentence pretty much sums up your trip to New York thus far. “I’ve always wanted to go skating and see the tree during Christmastime. When else will we get the chance?”

Five minutes later you’ve paid for rental skates, a locker for your shoes, and a ticket to the rink. Visible right next to you is the enormous tree, the lights twinkling and cameras flashing as everyone scrambles to get their Instagram picture to prove that they actually went to the tree at Rockefeller Center in New York City. 

When the zamboni is finished and the employees have skated over the ice enough to increase the level of friction, Taehyung and you balance on your skates as you walk towards the entrance. Slowly, everybody begins to glide on, wobbling at first before eventually getting the hang of it. There are a couple of small children holding onto those little penguin skate assistants, laughing as their older brothers and sisters guide them along the ice. 

“I’ve never skated before,” you admit nervously, about two seconds before you’re about to enter the rink. 

Taehyung’s mouth drops open. “Never?”

“No,” you reiterate, even more nervous than before. “I have no idea what I’m doing, I just said yes because like you said we’re in New York and it’s nearly Christmas and we should just seize every opportunity that we have and—”

“Y/N,” Taehyung says, calming you down as he ushers you away from the entrance so you aren’t blocking other people’s paths. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry,” he tells you, holding onto your wrists to make you look up at him. “I can show you how to. It’s easier than it looks, I swear. I won’t let you fall. You just have to trust me, alright?” He shakes your wrists to catch your attention, make sure that you heard him. “Alright?”

Deep breath. Inhale, exhale. 

“Alright.”

Everything is, in fact, not alright. No matter what Taehyung says, ice skating is way more fucking difficult than it looks. Taehyung steps onto the ice and it turns into second nature for him, gliding around a small circle to get warmed up as you cling onto the side railing like an idiot. You have no idea how to move, you have no idea where to go, you just shuffle along the railing with the rest of the children who are far younger than you, also trying to skate for the first time. 

This is embarrassing. 

“You’re a liar,” you tell Taehyung pointedly as he circles around, coming up to rest next to you. You’d point at his chest for emphasis, but you’re afraid you’ll fall without both hands on the railing at all times. “This is—” you pause, remembering that there are children present, “—very difficult.”

Taehyung just chuckles. “You have to be brave, Y/N, come on,” Taehyung implores. He holds out his hand, motioning for you to let go of the wall and take a leap of faith. 

“No, I will not be brave. Please let me be weak,” you beg, scared for your life. One wrong move and you’d go splat in the middle of the rink and embarrass yourself in front of all of New York City. 

“Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung says, holding his hand closer. “You said you trusted me. I told you, I won’t let you fall. Come on. Be brave.” And then he adds, leaning in to meet your eyes, “for me?”

He’s always been too charming for your own good. 

Tentatively, second by second by painstaking second, you remove your hands from the railing, first the left and then the right, as Taehyung pulls you right next to him, holding on tight. 

“See?” He asks as you begin to move on your own, Taehyung’s short glides pulling you along the ice. “Look, it’s not that bad.”

“I am scared for my life right now.” You blink. 

“Focus on me, okay,” Taehyung says, making you meet his eyes once more. “Eyes on me, alright. You’re doing fine. You’re skating, isn’t this fun?”

“I am terrified that I am going to perish on this very rink,” you repeat for emphasis. 

“Look, Y/N, look! You’re skating!” Taehyung tells you, and finally you glance down at your feet and realize that they’re beginning to move on the ice, all on their own. 

“Oh my God! I’m skating! What the—heck!” You say, eyes widening in excitement. 

“I knew you could do it,” Taehyung says, hands gripping on tight. You can feel the warmth from his palms seep into your own, feel the back of your hand burning from the touch. “You just had to trust me.”

“This is so cool,” you say, immediately very pleased with yourself. “I’m such a pro, I can do anything. Who said skating was scary?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to respond, but you shoot him a warning glare and he zips his lips. 

“Watch this, I can even do it on my own. You’re gonna be very impressed, Kim Taehyung, just watch me!”

Within the next moment, you’re letting go of his hand and pushing yourself away from him, gliding along the ice ever-so-slightly as you begin to balance on your own. 

But power is short-lived, and much like every leading male in Greek tragedies, your hubris gets the best of you, and you face the ultimate demise. 

The moment you attempt to pick up your left foot, your right toe pick gets caught in a dip of the ice and you go toppling over, collapsing onto the ice in a cold, bruised ball. 

Luckily, your coat takes most of the hit, its length preventing your knees from hurting into the next century, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. Ashamed of yourself and even more mortified to have to face Taehyung after boasting about how amazing you are, you slowly push yourself off of the ice, wobbling like a baby deer. 

“What was that, Y/N?” Taehyung says with a raised eyebrow as he skates over. He’s clearly just recovered from a laughing fit. 

“Fuck off,” you mutter, and you don’t even care if children hear you. “I got excited.”

“Clearly,” Taehyung notes, eyes wide and knowing. He holds out a hand, and before you even have time to think of a snarky retort your palm is reaching out for it, letting him pull you up off of the rink. “Here. Come on.”

One hour and two fairly bruised knees later, you and Taehyung are taking off your skates and relishing in the feeling of your feet, flat on the ground like feet should be. 

“You alright?” Taehyung asks. You didn’t have any massive falls following the first spectacle, but you admittedly, still cannot ice skate very well. You’ll have to figure out a way to learn. 

You round out the night by going to look at the Christmas Tree. Now that it’s fairly late, the massive families with young children have all gone home, leaving only the young adults left to bask in the glory of the peak of Christmas decorations. 

“It seemed bigger in photos, didn’t it?” Taehyung asks as the both of you crane your necks to look at the tree in all of its glory. “Like it was the size of a small tower.”

“Yeah,” you agree. It looks somewhat disappointingly small, now that you’re here in front of it. “Today was a lot of fun, Taehyung. Your spontaneity paid off.”

“When does it not?” Taehyung asks, proud of himself. He even has enough of an ego to do a little hair flip, making you shake your head disapprovingly. “But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I certainly did.”

“What was your favorite part?” You ask. 

“Definitely when you were in your prime for one moment and a puddle on the ice the next,” Taehyung says, and for that, he earns a punch to the shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But I did really enjoy ice skating.”

“Yeah, because you can actually do it,” you remind him. 

“What about you?”

You think. This day has been so long, from getting woken up by Taehyung’s irresponsible neighbors and the entire city’s fire department outside your window, to hopping on a bus to New York, to museums and restaurants and ice skating and the city, you feel like you’ve lived three days in one. 

“The museum,” you finally decide. “I’m not really an art person, but I thought it was lovely. Nice and heated, too.”

“Yes, the best part about the Museum of Modern Art was its modern, state-of-the-art central heating,” Taehyung repeats, making you laugh. “I’m glad you liked the museum. I was worried you’d think it was too stuffy.”

You had thought that too. And then you watched someone fall in love with each and every piece, right in front of you, and you realized that there’s more to art than putting a price tag on it and critiquing it. It’s passion, materialized. It’s real.  

It’s Taehyung. 

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. “I thought it was beautiful.”

On Christmas Eve, it snows. 

Correction: On Christmas Eve, it snows a lot. 

Correction for the correction: On Christmas Eve, it blizzards. 

When you listened to “White Christmas” last night, this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, if you were being honest. Maybe an inch or two. Maybe even just a flurry. But certainly not nearly two feet worth of snow, effectively trapping you inside of Taehyung’s apartment complex until the next day because not even the snow plows are allowed to go out on the roads. Not until the snow stops. 

“Good thing we don’t live on the first floor, right?” Taehyung asks with a laugh that late afternoon, taking a peek out of the window to stare down at the white expanse below you. “I’d hate to be those guys.”

“It must be so cold,” you say sadly. You’ve spent the better part of today huddled up in as many blankets as Taehyung owns in his apartment and you have no intention of shedding even one of them. Not even as you sweat right through your pajama shirt from high school. 

“We can just make dinner here, tonight,” Taehyung says, fishing around in his kitchen to see what the options are. It’s already beginning to get dark even though it’s not even five o’clock. God, you hate winter. 

“What are we making?”

Taehyung fumbles through the cabinets and his fridge, hunting for anything that might make a good meal. Eventually, he pulls out two cartons of Trader Joe’s vegetable broth and every vegetable in his fridge. 

“Wanna make soup?”

Soup is very easy to make. You set the broth to simmer, chop up vegetables, and dump them in the pot. 

But the idea of you and Taehyung sharing his tiny kitchen space, both with knives in your hands is, well, a recipe for disaster.

Luckily no knife mishaps occur, but, like the children at heart that you are, you eventually end with pelting uncooked lima beans at each other in the most adult version of a food fight you have ever had in your life. No fuss, no mess, no tomatoes or key lime pies or spaghetti doused in sauce getting chucked across the kitchen floor, the dinner table. 

No, your little food fight ends with you and Taehyung kneeling down on the tile as you pick up each little lima bean, gathering them in your palms. 

You make to toss it out but Taehyung stops you. 

“Wait,” Taehyung says, a hand on top of yours as it hovers over the trash can, “don’t toss them out.”

“Huh?” You ask. 

“I’ll feed them to the birds,” he says, taking the pile from your hands and placing all of the lima beans, along with his own, in a Ziploc bag. 

“You have a porch out here?” You ask, looking around. You’ve never seen it. 

“No.” Taehyung shakes his head. “They land on my bedroom window sill so I feed them.”

When you were in freshman year, you remember how Taehyung always left his window open. You know this because even though yours was always closed, anytime a police car, fire truck, ambulance, or particularly loud motorist drove by, the sound was always loudest on the wall of your room that bordered Taehyung’s. You hated how he always left his windows open, even in the winter. Wasn’t he goddamn cold?

And now, even though it’s Christmas Eve and there’s a blanket of snow outside nearly two feet deep, Taehyung will go and open his bedroom window again and feed the birds lima beans like a fucking Disney prince, and it makes your heart flutter, ever so slightly. 

You end the night sitting on Taehyung’s couch, only a foot or so of space in between your bodies as he multitasks, channel surfing and gulping down your homemade soup. 

“I haven’t made soup in a while, but damn, this is good,” Taehyung says, drinking the rest of it before getting up to help himself to seconds. He sticks a hand out to take your bowl as well, and wordlessly you hand it to him. 

“It’s my magic touch,” you tease. It was not. Taehyung did most of the work. You don’t have much of an affinity for cooking.

“It’s my chemistry brain,” Taehyung corrects. “Chem is basically like making soup.”

“But it can kill you,” you tack on.

“But it can kill you,” he agrees, returning to the couch. This time, when he sits down, he plops right down next to you, your sides touching as you sit in front of his television, slurping up homemade vegetable soup. “How’s your major? What is it, again?”

“English with a minor in Psych,” you say over a mouthful of carrot. 

“Sounds like too much reading for me,” Taehyung comments. “I’d only like picture books.”

“Yeah, wonder why,” you tell him sarcastically. “But it’s going well. I’m thinking of maybe adding Consumer Psych as another minor since there’s a lot of overlap, but I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.”

“Sounds busy,” Taehyung comments. 

“Almost as busy as visual studies and chem,” you remind him. “Seriously, do you ever sleep?”

“Inspiration is a fickle mistress and the will to do my chem problem sets, even more fickle,” Taehyung muses like the two subjects aren’t the absolute bane of his existence. “But yeah, I mean, I made it this far.”

“Our majors are so different,” you comment. They are. Encompassing all sides of the college major spectrum, from STEM to art to humanities. The only thing you’re missing is a business minor. But only snakes would ever be interested in something like that. 

“It’s nice,” Taehyung decides. “Because this is forcing us to talk with someone with whom we don’t already share all of the same classes with.”

“I couldn’t imagine taking the same class as you,” you say, not because you’d hate having to be in the same room as Kim Taehyung or dread the potential to be paired up for group work, but because your tastes are so different. They’ve always been different. Art, English, chemistry, psychology. Headphones or speakers. Closed windows or open. It’s always been opposites with the two of you. 

“Maybe I’ll take a psych class so that way we can,” Taehyung says. 

“Maybe I’ll take an art history course,” you retort.

“You’d really take an art history course? They’re awfully boring, and I’m an art major,” Taehyung says, in disbelief. 

You ponder it for a moment, but then nod. Yes, you would. Even if it sent you to sleep. Because it looks genuinely interesting. “After today, I wouldn’t mind it. You showed me a lot about art, Kim Taehyung. More than I thought I would ever learn in my lifetime.”

Taehyung sighs, shutting the television off. You guys weren’t watching it anyway. You hardly realized it was on. He looks down at his empty soup bowl, and then at you. He always does that—always looks somewhere else before looking at you, like he has to muster up the courage by first staring at an inanimate object. And then he says, “You’ll never stop learning about art. Neither will I. It’s a constant cycle, learning and relearning and changing your mind and revisiting old pieces. Because art is all around us.”

He looks at you, like he’s trying to say something else but doesn’t have the words. “You just have to look for it.”

New Year’s Eve is often a time of reflecting on the year that’s passed, making a list of goals to achieve once the clock strikes twelve. Thanking your friends and family, your loved ones, for being there for you this year, and promising to be there for them as well next year. 

To you and Taehyung, it’s literally your last chance to get piss drunk this year without repercussions. You’ve never stayed here, at your university in the city, for New Year’s Eve (obviously). You’d be interested in getting all dressed up to go out. Taehyung would also be interested. 

And so, after a day of slouching around and making half-assed resolutions you know you won’t keep (like managing your time better. As a college student? Impossible.), you and Taehyung decide to get dressed up and go out, pulling out the winter jackets you don’t care if you lose, or if they get trashed, or if they stain with vodka. All you want is to lose your goddamn mind in a tiny club with a bunch of other wasted young adults who don’t want to stay at home on the last night of the year. 

You are, unsurprisingly, a self-proclaimed not-a-going-out person, but tonight is something of an exception. It’s your last night to do this this year, and honestly, you can’t really think of a better way to end the year. There’s been plenty of ups (that A+ on your paper on the ethics of Beowulf, yay!) and plenty of downs (Global Politics in the Twentieth Century, yikes), and no better way to say goodbye to them all than with alcohol in your system. But even if, during the regular college season, you’re something of a stick in the mud, you remembered to pack a nice party dress just in case, so you tug on a little black velvet mini-dress that sparkles rainbow in the light, covered with tiny glitters that get stuck in your hair and never come out. 

As you’re fishing around for some tights that you don’t care about so your legs don’t freeze off in the cold, the door to Taehyung’s bedroom opens. 

Out he walks in all of his New Year’s Eve glory, a full black ensemble complete with structured belt and a leather jacket. You turn around to look at him and he stops dead in his tracks, eyes blinking like he doesn’t know where to look. It gives you a clear view of him and his simple yet extremely flattering outfit. He looks like Danny Zuko. He looks like a boy you would avoid in high school. 

Funnily enough, seeing him now draws you closer to him.

“Wow, hot stuff, you clean up nicely,” You comment, tugging on some black tights with a hole in the back that no one’s going to notice. 

“I could say the same thing about you,” he adds on, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. “I didn’t even know you had this.”

“I packed it just in case,” you say with a shrug. 

“Came in handy, didn’t it?” He asks. He comes up to stand by you, holding his arm out for you to wrap yours around, two people on a mission to not remember most things about this night. “You ready to go?” 

Stuffing your phone and wallet into your purse, you quickly link arms with him as you walk to the door, your black boots clopping on the floor like the obnoxious high-heel owner you are. 

“Yeah, you ready?” You ask, doing a quick double check. You’ve got everything. 

“Let’s fuck some shit up.”

And fuck some shit up you do. By the time you reach the club that Taehyung had found online, you can already hear the bass pounding through the walls, feel the ground shake from the speakers alone. Go big or go home, you suppose. 

As you expected, the club is already packed with bodies. Every young adult within a twenty-mile radius is out tonight, eager to spend the last night of the year doing what young adults in the primes of their lives do best: drink. And you and Taehyung are no exception. 

Like everybody else entering the club at the same time as you, you make a beeline for the bar, already itching to get something into your system. You don’t love being drunk, and you like the taste of alcohol even less, so you just order a simple cocktail that should keep you occupied for a while. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, well. He seems to harbor the go big or go home mentality quite firmly. It’s obvious that he’s here to do one thing and one thing only, which is not remember what he did when he wakes up tomorrow. You watch, a little impressed and a lot nervous about what exactly he’s trying to achieve, as he downs several shots in a row, pays the bartender, and immediately pulls you into the crowd of people dancing in the center of the room. 

“The more I move, the faster my body can process the alcohol,” Taehyung tells you as your cocktail sloshes around in the glass in your hand. It’s an alright cocktail. A little too sweet for you, but you suppose that that’s your fault. 

“Wow, when you said you wanted to fuck shit up, you meant it,” you comment as Taehyung dances, jumping and swaying to the beat of whatever Top 40 pop song is blaring from the speakers. You can barely hear the music over the volume of the rest of the club, people shouting to speak to each other, the sound of feet hitting the floor. 

Within approximately fifteen minutes, Taehyung is already fairly tipsy and eager to keep going, bubbling over with excitement. 

You convince him to dance a little longer before he goes back to get more, trying to make sure at least a bit of the alcohol he had at the beginning of the night goes through his body. The song changes to something much sultrier, like honey dripping from the speakers themselves, and suddenly, the entire club’s atmosphere changes. 

“I love this song,” Taehyung says, and it must be the lack of control that causes him to place a hand on your waist and pull you in close to him, making you gasp. 

“Wow, okay,” you comment, blinking. Taehyung rests his chin on your shoulder, leaning down as he holds you tight, your bodies swaying in tandem. 

“You don’t mind this?” Taehyung asks. 

“Not if you don’t,” you respond. He’s practically drunk, and you’re even a little buzzed. There are worse things you could be doing. 

“This is nice, isn’t it?” He inquires aloud. It’s a good thing that you can’t see his face, can’t watch the haze in his eyes, otherwise you might lose your footing and collapse. 

“What is?”

“This,” Taehyung repeats unhelpfully. 

The next three minutes are some of the most confusing ones of your life as Taehyung rests a hand on your waist, palm rubbing up and down as the two of you dance together like it means something to the both of you. 

But it doesn’t, does it? You chalk it up to both of your minds not being as sharp with some alcohol in your systems. That must be it.

When the song ends, the mood disappears as well, and Taehyung’s back to his bouncy, tipsy self. He’s practically stumbling over himself once he determines that it’s time for more shots, and you’ve never seen Taehyung drunk before but you can tell that he’s nearly there. You’ll probably put a hard stop on the drinks after this round, since Taehyung is the one most familiar with the way back to his apartment and you wouldn’t mind going home and sleeping after this.

“Come with?” Taehyung asks as he eyes the bartender like he’s the love of his life. 

“No, it’s alright, Tae,” you say.

“You never call me Tae,” Taehyung comments mindlessly. Even when he’s nearly drunk, he still picks up on the little things. 

“I guess the alcohol is making me soft,” you admit. “You go. I’m gonna find the bathroom and hope that nobody’s having sex in it.”

“Okay,” Taehyung singsongs as you pull away from him, looking for a dingy hallway to go down. “Be safe.”

“You too, I’ll be back soon,” you promise him, and that’s when you go rushing down the hallway.

Things are certainly weird down here. It must be the feeling of the new year looming over your heads. Like this is the last night to do everything wrong without regretting it in the morning. The bathroom is, luckily enough, empty, so you rush in and splash your face with some water, not caring about if your makeup runs. You’d sweat it off, regardless. You stare at yourself in the mirror, and this feels so stupidly like a goddamn romantic comedy that it makes you want to laugh at the irony. 

Beautiful male art student lead gets drunk, confuses hardheaded and impenetrable female lead who doesn’t believe in love and supposedly hates beautiful male art student’s guts. Tension ensues. 

Your life may as well already have a shitty Rotten Tomatoes rating stamped on top of it. 

After collecting your thoughts and praying that that white stain on the wall isn’t what you think it is, you leave the bathroom and scurry down the hallway, eager to find Taehyung and make sure he isn’t bouncing off the walls after a second round of shots. 

He’s not. 

Instead, he’s still standing by the bar as a beautiful young woman speaks to him, long dark hair resting against her shoulders and a model-esque smile on her face. She’s leaning in with a suggestive look in her eyes, a hand coming up to rub at the side of his arm. 

You furrow your brows as you watch them from afar, a little hurt by the fact that beautiful male art student lead is confusing hardheaded and impenetrable female lead even more, but then you notice Taehyung’s hesitance. The way he backs up a little when she gets closer. How he stiffens when she touches him. 

And, well, fuck that. 

 “Tae,” you say, rushing up to him faster than you’d like to admit. “There you are, I was looking for you.” 

The girl next to him frowns at the sight of you, and it’s clear she feels no shame to hide the immediately dislike. Sure, you don’t have model proportions or a smile whiter than snow, but you have morals. 

“Who’s this?” You ask, trying to be nice. 

“Nobody,” Taehyung tells you, and his hand immediately interlocks with yours. Standing next to him, you can feel as the tension fades from his body, his whole demeanor relaxing now that you’re by his side. “She just wanted to talk.”

“Are you a friend?” She asks, because she knows. 

“I’m a special type of friend,” you say. There’s no way she’ll leave Taehyung alone otherwise. And this is definitely on the cocktail you drank (and nothing else, you swear!), but you even reach up to plop a kiss on his cheek for proof. Taehyung’s eyes widen as you do, but he plays it off as catching him off guard and grins, wrapping an arm around you to pull you even closer. “Can we help you?”

The girl is absolutely pissed, which means that you did your job. 

“No, it’s alright,” she hisses through gritted teeth before turning her sights on someone else. Someone without a friend to protect them. 

“Thanks,” Taehyung whispers once she’s gone. Even though she’s probably not coming back, Taehyung keeps you close, a hand on you at all times like you’ll fly away if he doesn’t hold on tight. 

“Of course,” you tell him. “You’d do the same for me.”

“She scared me,” Taehyung says, and if his red face is anything to go by, it’s clear that he’s pretty much reached his alcohol intake limit. “I’m glad you came.”

“I could tell you didn’t want to talk to her,” you say. 

“Because I wanted to talk to you,” Taehyung says, and it’s definitely the alcohol that’s erased his filter. “I was waiting for you to come out of the bathroom and she just came up to me and started flirting with me. I think she wanted to get in my pants. I didn’t want her to get into my pants.”

“I know.”

“I’d much rather be with you than with her. Than with anybody else. I would always want to be with you, instead.” He tells you, keeping your hands firmly intertwined as you lean against the bartender counter. 

And well, huh. That’s different. Taehyung’s aforementioned lack of a filter means that any thoughts that run through his mind immediately turn into spoken words, but you weren’t expecting those words. You never thought you;d hear them, not in a million goddamn years.

“Okay, Tae,” you say, patting him assuringly. He’s just drunk. That’s all. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” Taehyung tells you firmly, pushing your comforting hand off of his shoulder and turning to face you directly. “I mean it.”

“I know, Tae.” you reassure him. It’s easier than trying to fight him, especially when he’s this hammered. You check the time on your phone. Maybe it’s time to leave. If you go now, you’ll be able to make it back by midnight. “Let’s go home, okay? I’m ready to go home.”

Wordlessly, Taehyung nods, and the two of you leave the club before people are even thinking about ringing in the New Year. 

When you reach Taehyung’s apartment, he takes off his leather jacket to hang on the coat rack and turns the television on. Only three minutes to midnight. 

“I had fun,” you say, trying to lighten the conversation. The way back was silent, the only noises the sounds of New Year’s Eve parties on every block you turned onto. Taehyung kept his face forward and his eyes ahead, even as you tried to huddle close to him to conserve the warmth. 

“It was sort of fun,” Taehyung halfheartedly agrees. 

“Did you drink too much?” You ask. His face is still beet red. 

“I don’t think I drank enough.”

Two minutes to midnight. 

You frown, brows furrowing. Why on Earth would Taehyung want to drink more? What would change if he had another shot, a can of beer or a little cocktail?

Slowly, you begin to peel off your own layers, resting your coat on the back of the couch and slipping off your boots. The both of you stand in his living room as the TV begins to buzz with excitement, the broadcast of Times Square lighting up the otherwise silent, tense atmosphere. He’s only a couple of feet away but it feels like he couldn’t be farther from you. 

One minute to midnight. Everybody begins to count down, and you feel yourself holding your breath. 

“Will you be alright going to sleep?” You ask. Even if Taehyung’s still drunk, he’s far less bouncy than he was at the club. 

“I’ll be fine. Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, beginning to walk past. 

Three. 

“Okay.”

Two.

“Okay.”

One. 

Something overtakes Taehyung, something quick and brief. He stops right next to you and flinches, like he wants to lean in and do something, anything, goddamnit, but stops himself before he goes through with it. Everyone on television is cheering, but this apartment couldn’t be less festive even if you tried. 

Taehyung sends you a small smile as the world rings in the new year, dashing off to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. 

And you stand there, in the middle of his living room like the goddamn fool you are. Turning to the television, you watch over and over as every couple in Times Square kisses, clip after clip after clip, and like a goddamn idiot, you wish that Taehyung had done the same. 

The end of winter break approaches faster than you’d like it, just like it does every year. Before you know it, there’s less than a week left before classes resume and you go back to the daily college life. Less than a week left before you can go back to your dorm and pretend like this year’s winter break mishap never happened. 

Less than a week before you and Taehyung go back to never seeing each other. 

You’re sitting at his kitchen table, clearing out your backpack and recycling every paper, every syllabus and assignment and study guide from last semester, doing a deep cleanse of your life (because holy shit, you need it), when you come across the purchase you had made at the MOMA. 

“Taehyung,” you call out before you can stop yourself. 

“Yeah?” He asks from where he’s sitting on the couch, reading a James Joyce book. You love that novel. It was one of the very few you read for fun last year. 

You take the small paper bag in your hands, walking over to the couch. “I almost forgot about this, but since winter break’s starting to wind down, I just wanted to give you this as a thanks. For everything.”

“You got me a belated Christmas gift, Y/N?” Taehyung asks as you hold out the gift, clearly something thin like a posterboard or an art print.

“If it means I don’t have to buy you two things, then sure, consider this a belated Christmas gift,” you say with a laugh, sitting down a foot away from him as he slowly opens up the packet. “It’s sort of cheesy and very basic, but I just wanted to get you something nice as a thank you.”

Out Taehyung pulls is a print of van Gogh’s The Starry Night, big enough to fill up the empty spaces on his walls, so every inch of his apartment, of his life and his home, is filled with art. 

“Oh my God,” Taehyung says, mouth agape. “This is…”

“It’s basic, I know. But I know how much you loved seeing it in person, so I thought that a memory of that would be nice,” you say, trying to ease the nervousness that has bubbled up inside of you. 

“It’s wonderful,” Taehyung says, and you swear you’ve never seen him so happy, other than perhaps when you saw the real thing. “This is so fucking thoughtful of you.”

“I just—you told me a lot about the art we saw that day, but when we reached this painting, you were speechless. And I sort of knew, then, that it was your favorite piece. Because you didn’t have to explain it with words,” you tell him. “I could just tell. It was like your whole body warmed up the moment it came into view.”

“I’m touched, Y/N.” Taehyung beams. “This is all an art student could ever want, really. To be able to know that their love for art meant something to someone else.”

“I just wanted to say thank you for everything. Taking me in, cooking me food, being really nice me despite me entrenching on your living situation.” You smile. 

“I was happy to do all that stuff,” Taehyung tells you honestly. “I’ve had a lot of fun this winter break, even if we’re still trapped on campus.”

You loved getting to go home for winter break your freshman and sophomore years. You loved being able to escape from the college mindset and just relax, no deadlines, no assignments, no worries. 

But looking back on it, you think that you’ve had the most fun this winter break, stuck at school, a five-hundred-dollar plane ticket short, with your dorm neighbor-slash-nemesis from freshman year. Never have you done so much in so little time. 

“Yeah, me too,” you say, thinking back fondly. It feels like this winter break has lasted for years, but also as though it went by in the blink of an eye, 

“I have something for you as well,” Taehyung says, scrambling up to dash into his room. “Consider it just a Christmas gift, because I don’t really have to thank you for letting you stay at my apartment for free for a month.”

“Roast me, why don’t you,” you muse jokingly, rolling your eyes as Taehyung fumbles around in his bedroom before he emerges with an equally flat, similarly-sized gift wrapped up in some spare tissue paper. 

“I don’t recall you buying anything at the MOMA,” you tease as Taehyung hands you the gift, settling back down on the couch to watch as you open it. 

Slowly, you peel back the tissue paper, and when you reveal what he’s wrapped up for you, it drops to your lap. 

It’s a portrait of you, done entirely in pencil. It’s you smiling, with your eyes closed, lashes fluttering. He’s memorized your entire face, drawn it neatly onto this piece of sketch paper, like he was just passing the time and suddenly he had a picture of you on his hands. He’s even remembered where your freckles go. 

“What’s this, Tae?” You ask, like you don’t already know. 

“Uh, it’s you,” Taehyung says sheepishly. “I wasn’t planning on drawing you, I didn’t have a gift in mind, but I was practicing sketches the other day and an hour later I looked down and I had drawn you. And I felt bad for not telling you, because that’s weird, so I thought that you could see it.”

“You drew a portrait of me? Just randomly, from memory?” You ask, looking down at the sketch in your hands like it’s just ruined your life. 

“Yeah, so?” Taehyung asks. He looks terribly nervous. 

“So, that’s—people don’t just do that, Taehyung. You don’t just draw a picture of someone purely from memory while you’re practicing sketching,” You say, reeling back as he tries to lean in, attempts to explain himself. 

“What do you mean? I did that. I thought of you and I drew you, what’s so bad about that?”

“I don’t know if you missed the memo, Taehyung. I told you in New York. We’re not dating, Taehyung,” you tell him, so firm and certain in your conviction that you hardly pay attention to the way his shoulders sink. “We’re barely even friends. I’m not interested in you like that. Please don’t think otherwise.”

“Don’t tell me what to think,” Taehyung snaps, and he’s mad. Really mad, not like the fake anger from freshman year when you tried to get back at him by being an equally-annoying neighbor. “Don’t tell me how to feel. I drew you, Y/N. Not because I’m obsessed with the idea of us getting married, or because you’re my muse or some bullshit like that. I drew you because I thought of you, and I draw what I think of. Don’t tell me what to fucking think.”

“Do you like me, Taehyung?” You ask, on the verge of shouting.

Taehyung’s furious. “So what if I do? Huh? What difference does it make? You’ve told me over and over that you don’t like me back, so why does it matter? It’s not like I’d ever have a chance.”

“I told you because I didn’t want to confuse you,” you hiss, standing up and beginning to grab your belongings. It’s clear that this conversation is turning sour. 

“Confuse me? You didn’t want to confuse me?” Taehyung shouts. “You did a damn good job at that. Telling me in New York that you hated being called Mr. and Mrs. Kim, but holding my hand as we walked around the city and looked at art together. Kissing my cheek in the fucking bar but then patting me like on the back like I’m just a sadass friend of yours. Can you blame me if I was confused, Y/N?”

“I told you,” you say again. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Taehyung bites. “I’m sorry that I fucking fell in love with you, even though half of the time you acted like it was alright. My mistake.”

“It was your mistake. I never said I wanted to date you,” you tell him firmly. You refuse to take the blame for something you had made so explicitly clear. 

“Can you fucking blame me for being hopeful?” Taehyung asks. He’s standing up, about to head back into his bedroom, absolutely furious. “You held my hand and kissed me on the cheek and I thought that meant that you felt it, too.”

“Taehyung—”

“Keep the portrait, Y/N,” Taehyung spits. “I don’t ever want to see it again.”

He slams his bedroom door. 

It’s a good thing you made friends with some upperclassmen when you were a freshman. 

After packing your belongings into your little suitcase and standing in the lobby of Taehyung’s apartment complex, you remember that one of your old friends who had graduated last year still lived in an off-campus apartment since he would be beginning graduate school at the same university. 

“Yoongi?” You ask when you hear him pick up your call. 

“Y/N? What’s up?”

“Long story,” you say with a sigh. “Would it be alright if I stayed with you until school started?”

“Holy shit, you’re on campus? What the fuck, yeah, sure, you know where I live. I’ll be here whenever you stop by,” he says without question.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re standing outside his door, double checking to make sure you’d got the right apartment. 

You barely get the first knock in before the door swings open to reveal Min Yoongi himself, clad in all black and looking very tired. 

“Are you okay?” You ask. He looks exhausted. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, ushering you inside. 

“Have you been up all night?” You ask, resting your suitcase against the wall. 

“I took a brief nap between two and three, but yes, I have been,” he says like it’s natural. 

“You’ve always been a chaotic sleeper,” you say with a shake of your head. 

“The grad school grind stops for no one,” Yoongi says with a sigh. “What’s up? Why are you on campus?”

“It… it’s a long goddamn story. Do you have time?”

“I have a piece due for a small indie band tomorrow at noon that’s barely finished,” Yoongi says.

“Oh,” you say. You suppose the story can wait. Yoongi offered up his abode to you until classes resumed if you needed it, and there’s no way in hell you’ll be going back to Taehyung’s. 

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I got loads of time,” Yoongi says. He plops down on his couch and motions for you to sit next to him. “Tell me everything.”

Yoongi has always been a particularly good listener. Not just to other people’s words, but to music, to the sounds of the chords and the notes of the piano. He has an ear for things that most others would never notice. 

It’s the same thing for when he’s doling out advice. 

“To clarify,” Yoongi says when you’re finished telling your story, thirty minutes later. You had warned him that it would be a long one. “You had once hated his guts, but no longer hate his guts?”

“I stopped hating him after freshman year,” you admit, more to yourself than to Yoongi. It’s true. The moment the two of you stopped seeing each other, everything dissipated. 

“And now you like him.”

“We’re friends,” you say, tentatively. Maybe less than friends after the disaster that just went down in his living room. 

“But he drew you a portrait of yourself,” Yoongi mentions. 

“I said that it was complicated,” you say with a frown. 

“It doesn’t sound that complicated,” Yoongi says. And maybe he is a graduate student with more life experience under his belt than you, but you think that it’s pretty complicated. 

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like he likes you, and you like him. I wasn’t really interpreting it in any other way,” Yoongi says casually. 

You reject the notion immediately. “I do not like him.”

Yoongi frowns. “Would you really be here, in my apartment having a relationship breakdown, if you weren’t confused about your feelings for him? Really?”

“I just needed to get out of his damn apartment, that’s all,” you say, avoiding eye contact. Yoongi has this very annoying habit of being extremely reasonable all of the time, and it bothers you immensely. 

“Sure, okay. Y/N, I’m not gonna dictate how you feel and try to change your mind, or anything. But if you can look me in the eye before the end of your break and tell me, one-hundred percent honestly, that you don’t like him, then I’ll believe you,” Yoongi tells you simply. “How about that?”

It sounds like a very doable deal. Maybe it’s not doable right now, but it certainly seems possible in the future. In the future, specifically. 

“Fine. But you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” you tell him matter-of-factly. Why does he care? It’s not like you’re worried about it. 

As it turns out, you’re worried about it. 

You’re worried about it because even though you’re not in the same room, not in the same building, not even on the same goddamn street as him, you’re thinking about him. Thinking about how much fun the two of you could be having right now as you relish in the last couple days of your winter break before the cold reality of school hits. 

Think about the things you could be doing. Exploring, going out to restaurants, finding new little gold mines in this city that you call home. And instead, you’re moping around your friend’s living room wishing that the two of you hadn’t ruined the whole thing. 

Maybe you had been too harsh. Taehyung has a right to be mad at you for lashing out at him. How was he supposed to feel? You held his hand and kissed his cheek and pretended that it was still freshman year, that the two of you were still just two people stuck together by unfortunate circumstances. Acted like nothing had really changed despite the years going by. Going through with all of these adventures with him knowing, in the back of your mind, that once classes started back up, you’d probably never make an effort to see him again. 

Drawing a portrait of you says one thing, but dancing around him says another. Every time you fucking see Yoongi in his own goddamn home you try to muster up the bravery to tell him that you don’t like Taehyung the way that he thinks you do, and you can’t. 

He sets up his pullout couch in his living room for you when you go to sleep that night, you dream of Taehyung. Envision him wandering the halls of a nameless museum, priceless pieces of art hung along every wall, from van Gogh to Monet to Picasso. He turns back around so you get a view of his face, dream up his curly black hair and soft eyes, sparkling with wanderlust as he roams the corridors, stopping to spare a quick glance at every painting he passes. 

And then at the end of the hall, he pauses in his tracks, looks up at the painting on the wall. You watch as the camera zooms in on what he’s looking at, what made him stop in his tracks the moment he laid eyes on it. 

It’s your portrait. A simple piece of paper out of a sketchbook, graphite on the coarse canvas. It’s barely more than a line drawing, your eyes here, your nose there, the little freckles that decorate your skin. It’s only in one color and still, even now, it leaves you speechless. Taehyung made that. He drew that, line by line. He made that for you. 

You wake up in a cold sweat at seven in the morning. Yoongi’s fast asleep in his bedroom, and you know he won’t be waking up until the hour on the clock reads double digits. Frantic, you scramble through your backpack until you pull out the sketch paper a little bit larger, a little bit thicker than the rest, still wrapped up in tissue paper. 

Pulling the paper away to reveal the canvas, you stare down at it in the hazy light of the sunrise, small rays beginning to stream through Yoongi’s window. Your fingers trace along each line, picturing Taehyung as his pencil scratched along the paper, over and over until it looked perfect. Taehyung made this. He sat down, thought of you, and drew this. 

A picture may be worth a thousand words but this one doesn’t say a thousand words. Instead, it only says three. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you flip the sketch over to see if there’s anything else he’s drawn. There isn’t, but you find a little note in the bottom right corner. 

Y/N,

I hadn’t realized that I had drawn you until I was nearly finished with this. My bad, but it was too late to stop. I don’t know if I’ll ever give this to you, or if I’ll just have a guilty conscience for the rest of my life, but just in case I do, I want you to know this: art inspires me, and you are no exception. 

Tae ♡

When Min Yoongi wakes up that day and trudges out of his bedroom, he finds you sitting on his pullout couch, staring down at a sketch in your hands. When you turn to look up at him, he sees your red eyes and wonders how long you’ve been out here, crying. 

“I can’t do it, Yoongi,” you tell him. 

“Do what?” Yoongi asks, even though he already knows the answer. Why else would you be letting your tears drip onto your portrait?

“Tell you that I don’t like him. Because I do. And I can’t lie to him like that.”

Yoongi grins. He knew you’d come around, like you always do. You may have quite the stubborn streak, but you’ve got a big heart, and it always gets the best of you. 

He sits down next to you, glancing down at the portrait. It’s gorgeous. Taehyung did a wonderful job. He looks at you as you cry over a sketch of yourself, and he thinks that, even if he doesn’t really know this Taehyung character, the two of you will make a perfect pair. 

“You should tell him that,” he tells you with a nudge. You look up at him, scared for your life. “I think he deserves to know.”

The night before winter break ends, you ask Taehyung if tenants of his apartment complex are allowed on his rooftop. He says no, but also says that his landlord is out of town for the holidays. 

In the biting cold of a mid-January evening, you climb up the stairs of his apartment complex and push open the heavy metal door to the rooftop, a gust of wind nearly blowing you right over. Looking around, you spot Taehyung in nothing but a sweater and a scarf, sitting on the edge of the rooftop and looking out over the city. 

“Aren’t you cold?”

He turns around to find you standing next to him, wrapped up in a long coat, gloves, a beanie, and a scarf. 

“I’ve got a warm body,” Taehyung tells you, looking back out into the sea of lights. 

“This is scary, isn’t it?” You ask, sitting down next to him. Your feet dangle off the ledge, and normally you’d be insistent on sitting in the middle of the rooftop where no danger can befall you, but this feels a lot more personal. 

“Why did you want to meet me up here?” Taehyung asks, all business. 

“I just wanted to talk,” you tell him. “You know, since it’s the last day of winter break and all.”

“It went by fast, didn’t it?” Taehyung muses. 

“I remember failing my final and missing my flight like it was yesterday,” you remember fondly, laughing. It seemed like the end of the world at the time, but there’s always a silver lining. You just didn’t know what it was, back then. 

You think you have a pretty clear idea of it now. 

Taehyung chuckles, letting the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you gaze out at the rest of the city. Taehyung’s apartment building isn’t particularly tall, but it’s got enough height to it that it feels like you’re looking out over a place you hardly recognize. There are so many things you don’t know about this city, despite having lived here for over two years. So many things you are aching to find out, and only one person you’d really like to do it with. 

“What’s your New Year’s Resolution?” You ask randomly, interrupting the quiet that had befallen the both of you. 

Taehyung jumps at the sound of your voice piercing through the atmosphere, caught off guard. You lean in, expecting him to answer. 

“Oh, um, I guess to draw and paint for fun more. A lot of the stuff I’ve been making in school I’ve been doing because I had to,” Taehyung says quickly. It’s sort of obvious that he made up the resolution on the spot. “Uh, what’s yours?”

You press your lips into a thin line, smiling to yourself. “To be honest.”

Taehyung scoffs at that. “Believe me, Y/N, you are more than honest. Brutally so.”

“To others, yes,” you reason. You always were a tell-it-like-it-is sort of person. “But I’m not very good at being honest with myself.” You swing your legs slightly as they dangle over the ground below, kicking into each other. Taehyung turns to look at you, waiting for you to continue. “Yoongi says I’m a very stubborn person. I always have been. Once I determine something is the way it is, it’s very difficult to change my mind.”

Taehyung chuckles to himself. He’s probably quite familiar with that aspect of your personality. 

“But I realized recently that sometimes, things change without you even realizing it, and that instead of being afraid of those changes, you should embrace them. So that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to be more honest with myself, because I think I’ll make everybody around me, including myself, happier.” You continue. 

“Good for you,” Taehyung tells you mindlessly, turning back to face out towards the city. 

“Kim Taehyung, I’m not finished talking, yet,” you demand, forcing him to look back at you. “I hated you in freshman year. You were the worst thing to happen to me that year, annoying and full of yourself. And I didn’t know you in sophomore year. We stopped talking and decided that it was better if we never did again.”

He lets out a little huff of breath, visible in the cold night air. 

“But I do know you now. You offered me a place to stay when I missed my flight after what might have been the worst final I have ever taken in my entire life. You took me to New York, and we made vegetable soup together. You let me hold your hand and kiss you on the cheek, and you drew me a portrait,” you say firmly. He looks up at you and finally, finally, his eyes aren’t foggy. There’s no haze, no mist. You look into his eyes and you can see yourself reflected in the ink black of his irises. He’s beautiful. He’s sitting on the ledge of the roof of his apartment building in the middle of January with nothing but a sweater and a scarf on, and he’s beautiful. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Before you can even take another breath, Kim Taehyung places a cold palm on your scarf-covered cheek and pulls you into a bruising kiss, his other hand wrapping around your waist as you shuffle along the ledge, closer and closer. And even if his hands are cold and his lips are chapped, his mouth is warm and soft, wanton and desperate. You beam at the feeling of his lips on yours, wrapping your arms around his neck as you ring in the New Year for real. This is how it was supposed to be. This is what you had been waiting for. 

When you part, Taehyung’s lips are a cherry red to match the tip of his nose. His brown eyes are twinkling, and not from the light pollution of the city. 

“Can I be honest, too?” Taehyung asks. He’s got the biggest goddamn grin on his face. “I think I’m in love with you.”

The words are music to your ears. “My honesty is rubbing off on you,” you tease. “Because I think I’m in love with you, too.”

Smiling, grinning, positively fucking beaming, Taehyung wraps his hands around you and kisses you again. It warms your heart from the inside out, blossoms like a tulip in spring. When you started this winter break, you thought you had reached your lowest point, but you’re finishing it on a high that you hope never fades. He loves you, he loves you, and most importantly, you love him back. And as it turns out, the movie where beautiful male art student lead and hardheaded and impenetrable female lead are stuck with each other for four weeks has a happy ending, after all. 

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[rainecreatesstuff]

LAMP Soulmate AU Bulletfic thing

Word Count: 2569

TW: Mentions and implications of abuse, mentions of anxiety, descriptions of panic attacks, mentions and implications of death + illness

They’re all connected in different ways

Virgil is connected to Patton through that thing where marks on your soulmate’s skin appear of yours too

Roman through a thing where on your eleventh birthday at 11:11pm a name will pop into your head and wow its your soulmate’s

And Logan through the string thing

Roman is connected to Patton through a timer on his wrist

And Logan through a tattoo-like mark on your wrist that says your soulmate’s first words to you

Logan and Patton are connected through a soulmark (A tattoo or raised pattern on your skin that is also on your soulmate)

Patton is blind

so in this au different soulmarkers develop at different ages

So when V’s little he’s super excited to meet his sm, bc his parents are soulmates and everything he’s seen abt them is so sweet and exciting!

He turns six and doesn’t develop a timer, which is what he was hoping for

But that’s ok! There are tons of other soulmarkers!

And then he doesn’t develop a soulmark when he’s seven

Or a sentence on his wrist when he’s eight

And he can see colours

So he’s starting to get nervous

And hey! Mom’s sick, and in the hospital, and she’s just not doing too swell

But then when he turns nine, a beautiful red string has been tied around his ring finger when he wakes up!

And wow! Mom look, I have a soulmate! Just like you and daddy!

And then a few months later he’s doing his homework at the kitchen table and the string goes limp before shriveling up and turning black

The doctors have no explanation, and V’s anxiety has really started to kick in

Mom doesn’t seem to be getting better either

So when he turns ten, he is fully aware that this is probably his last chance to develop a soulmarker

He writes on his forearm the night before his birthday

It says “Hey, I’m V! I guess we’re soulmates?”

When he wakes up there’s nothing new

Which is fine! Because that means his sm is probably in the same time zone as him!

But then he keeps waiting and

Nothing

Nothing for a week.

Eventually his dad convinces him to wash it off

Then on his eleventh birthday he knows how uncommon a soulname connection is, but he needs to try

So it’s 11:10 and he’s sitting at his desk with a marker ready to write it down and then-

Roman Prince

Roman prince? What do you mean Roman prince? That’s not a name! What the hell?!

So he’s really sad and anxious and stuff because he doesn’t have a soulmate and, yknow, that’s kinda upsetting for him

And hey, your mom really isn’t doing too well, we have to visit her after school, okay?

At first Virgil doesn’t understand why mom’s being so dramatic or why she keeps telling him she loves him

Then it hits him

And now he’s sobbing and hugging her and shaking and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe

Fun fact! Turns out this is a regular thing and he has really bad anxiety.

And mom has been put in a medically induced coma

So a year later dad decides to pull the plug

Virgil’s anxiety has gotten really bad

He’s just not in a good place

High school goes by without much happening

Now he’s going to university! How exciting and stressful!

Roman, too, was entranced by the idea of soulmates. His parents aren’t soulmates, but they encourage his excitement about them!

And when he turns six, he develops a timer on his wrist! Score! What a romantic way to meet the love of your life!

Or friend of your life

His moms are so excited for him! They get him new paints and take him out to dinner to celebrate.

And then he wakes up on his eighth birthday to words on his right wrist

It says “If you could stop talking, it would be vastly appreciated.”

He’s a little pissed

His moms take him to the doctor bc “wtf why does he have TWO soulmarkers?!”

The answer is that he has two soulmates

It’s uncommon, but possible

So while he is ecstatic and ready to parade his soulmarkers around the school, his moms are a little less happy and a little more worried

They may have made the suggestion that he wears long sleeves most days, those ones that he hates because they will not roll up

But he did what they asked because they’re his moms, and he loves them very much

And then a few years later on his birthday he’s typing up a short story for school

It’s due the next day so he’s rushing through it a little bit

It’s still amazing

But anyways, he’s writing, and he suddenly just gets the name “Virgil Miller” stuck in his head

He doesn’t think anything of it bc he’s writing and that’s normal

He ends up naming the main character Virgil 

Logan grows up in a bit of a run-down part of town

His Mami and Dad are soulmates (he doesn’t think they should be)

They fight a lot, and sometimes Dad’ll hurt Mami, especially at night when they think he’s asleep

And he’s heard Mami on the phone with his Tia, talking about court cases? And laws, and soulmates?

Needless to say, he isn’t all too enamoured with the idea of soulmates

When he’s seven he gets a soulmark, some bumps over his heart, which is a little distressing

He’s never met this person, but he’s supposed to spend his whole life with them?

He’s very scared that his soulmate will be like Dad

And then he develops the words “Bold of you to assume I can stop talking” on his right wrist

And then a string when he’s nine.

He doesn’t tell his parents about any of them. “Soulless” people existed, and he knew his Mami was hoping he was one of them.

And then later that year Mami sits him down and tells him that she’s going to live with his Tia until she can find her own apartment, and that she and Dad aren’t together anymore

Logan cries for a while, and tells her about all the things he’s heard, and the bruises he’s seen, and begs to go with her

Mami says she was hoping he would

His Dad finds out the day before they leave and he hits Logan

Multiple times

And when his Mami steps in, Dad scowls and yells and stomps away and Mami picks Logan up and they run to the car and leave

When they get to his Tia’s he hides in the guest bedroom they said is his and he takes a pair of scissors and

Snip snip, he’s 33% more “soulless”

He steals Mami’s concealer and puts it on his wrist everyday to cover the words there

The only one he doesn’t cover is the soulmark on his chest, which he almost never sees because of his shirt

Whenever anyone asks, he just tells them he’s soulless

He tries not to get too close to people, but he usually fails and so he has a very small, very tight friend group 

Oh also he’s a grade ahead of his year

Patton’s family is very well off

He’s the oldest of four brothers

He’s trans, but his family is v supportive and helped him transition as soon as they found out

His service dog’s name is Cookie and she’s a golden retriever

He’s had her since he was eleven, and he loves her very much

Because he’s blind there’s certain things he didn’t know about growing up

For example, nobody told him about soulmates until he was nine

Which really explains the weird ticking he hears every once in a while, as well as the strange, tiny bumps on his chest (which spell out “Loved” in Braille)

He doesn’t think about it too often, but he’d be lying if the idea didn’t entrance him

He didn’t think he’d ever meet his soulmates, though, and if he did, he wasn’t sure they’d want the responsibility of a blind soulmate

On the day he turns ten, there’s this little tickling on his forearm, like butterflies gently taking off on him

He doesn’t really think anything of it, though

Despite being blind, Patton is super capable

He can’t cook by himself, but if he’s supervised he does a really good job. He’s the most prepared for “real life” out of his siblings, which is strange, considering he’s the oldest

He goes to public school, where most kids are really nice (sometimes antagonistically nice), but there were also some rude kids

“You don’t really need that walking stick, you’ve got a dog, and we need it to play our game!”

The amount of times he’s had to explain that no you dumbass I do still need the stick is ridiculous

But he keeps a smile on his face and forges through it

And then in grade eleven Roman’s studying in the hallway when he sees some kid being bullied

Well, not bullied, but definitely teased. Something was wrong, anyways

He’s been on edge all day because his timer keeps going down

But he’s not really thinking about it rn

So he goes over and gets the idiots to leave and

Holy hell did heaven drop an angel? They must have, because look at this boy with his golden hair and tanned skin and freckles and

Beep beep motherfucker. It’s soulmate o’clock

And Roman is just so happy

“H-hey, I’m Roman!” “Oh, hi, I’m Patton! Did... did your timer go off?” “Uh yeah! It did!”

And Patton

Just grins so wide and there’s tears, and he leaps up and hugs Roman so tight

And Roman is so freaking happy!!!! He asks Patton for his contact because duh and Pat’s like

“Uhhh well I can’t text”

“Why?”

“..... I’m blind?” “OHHHHHHH”

So they figure they can talk over the phone because Patton does have a phone for calling

So they have a cute first date and they fall in love and everything’s good and dandy and Roman’s going to college but Patton’s found this real nifty job that just so happens to be right next to Roman’s college so they move in together and Patton knows about Roman’s other sm and Roman knows about Patton’s other sm

And Roman’s in a lecture now

And he didn’t really notice but he’s been muttering

And he’s just kinda sitting there when he hears it from the guy next to him

So he looks up and here’s this ethereal looking dude with gorgeous brown eyes and dark hair and

“Bold of you to assume I can stop talking.”

He curses every known god for making his first words to his soulmate be a meme

They excuse themselves from class because holy shit

And Logan introduces himself shakily

And Roman asks for his number

And they go on a date where Roman tells him about Patton and Logan mentions having a soulmark over his heart

Logan is really hesitant to join their relationship bc he was hoping he would never meet his soulmates

So they don’t put a label on it right away

But they go on a few dates and hang out a bunch and Logan realizes that he actually really, really likes these guys and he doesn’t really want to live the rest of his life without them

So he talks to them and tells them about some of the stuff that happened when he was a kid

Roman and Patton are horrified but they hug him and promise that they will never lay a finger on him if he asks them not to 

And Logan just has a moment of “These guys love me. Like actually love me. And want me to be happy. And I think I feel the same?” 

So on their next date Logan asks both of them to be his boyfriends and obviously they say yes

And basically they’re just all really in love

They move into a bigger apartment together at the beginning of year two

So then they’re all cuddling one day when Logan tells them about his string

And so the other two are like “oh shit is there another???”

And Roman says that on his eleventh birthday he just suddenly had this name pop into his head but he just assumed he’d wanted the name for a character so

And Patton says that after getting his soulmark AND a timer he didn’t think to check for anything else

So they’re all kinda like well whoops let’s hope we still meet them!

And Patton’s at his job one day when this guy walks in and he’s one of the new employees

Pat’s got his seeing eye doggo with him but the vest is off cuz they’re both on break

And so V’s like “oh cool dog can I pet him?”

Bc usually he would never just go up and ask but he literally can’t stop himself because here’s this adorable dude in front of him and the universe is screeching at him to say hi

And Pat hears his voice and immediately falls in love

“Oh, yea sure! She’s my eye dog, but she’s on break so it’s all good!”

And V meets Pat and his dog

And they end up exchanging numbers because they are coworkers and well

Yknow

So a couple days later, after him and Patton have been talking a lot, Pat invites him over

So V goes over and meets Roman and Logan

And he hears Roman’s name and

Holy shit

And of course Roman is also freaking out because the name Virgil just really hasn’t left his head since he thought of it

So yknow

Logan’s a little unsure, but then the two get talking about astronomy and he doesn’t care if they’re not soulmates he is going to marry this guy

And they all get really close really fast

And then one day Virgil offhandedly mentions the string thing

And Logan freezes and just

Shows V his right ring finger, where they can both see this rotting string that’s still tied tight around it and

Fuck V can’t breathe are you kidding? right now?

So they help ground him, and Logan explains everything

And Roman tells him what’s up

But they’re not really sure how he’s connected to Patton but then he just

Grabs a marker and draws a heart on his hand and

It’s right there on Patton’s hand holy s h i t

So they take Virgil on a date and stuff and they make it official

And Virgil’s a little nervous bc like those three have been together for a while now and he feels like he’s intruding

But he talks to Logan and L understands bc Roman and Patton had been dating for 2+ years when he found them

He promises that V is not intruding and that they all really love him

And Virgil just full on starts crying because he hasn’t felt this loved since before his mom died and he loves his bfs so much

They find their bfs and just cuddle all night

Virgil moves in with the rest of them at the beginning of third year 

They get their happily ever after for the most part

Hopefully y’all liked this! I think I’ll be posting more writing on here, bc I have TONS of wips stacked up in a google docs and I’d like to get them out of there lmao

[frogtanii]

Wind anon has a test tomorrow so she is gonna be studying for a bit—but it should be okay! (Actually, seeing and reading not only the PF updates but also all the comments from fans give me energy and motivation. It’s really good at cheering me up, so I greatly appreciate how I was able to stumble upon such a community.) Anyway, might as well get to the reaction!

First, starting off with Iwaizumi... every time I see an Iwaizumi start I get a bit anxious like “oh no, it’s him again” type of feeling. Makes me all twisty. But I was like “hm? Why’s he asking where they all are? He drove them to the venue?” So I was like “aaaaa” but softly

And YN with Suga and Akaashi! Soft boys. Very very nice. Suga mentioned reading books as a suggestion to Bokuto before didn’t he? Book crew~ also, I like that there’s a bench by the restrooms of the place. Very conveniently placed, isn’t it? Though the mention that it’s secluded is very fitting with YN needing to recharge the social battery. Some days I need to recharge my battery myself, and I just completely lose the desire to talk once it’s low. I hope YN gets lots and lots of self care days where she doesn’t have to do anything but love being herself. She deserves it.

Kuroo being with Bokuto :D! I like how he’s still sticking by even when he has no clue what they are talking about. It’s wonderful.

And Kenma :0. Same restroom as the one where YN, Akaashi, and Suga are? Because then they all went together. Cute cute cute. A group of introverts.

Sakusa and Atsumu by the snack table. That’s good, that’s good, hope that they had some good food.

Osamu talking to a kid about how he cooks his ramen! Very nice very nice, I feel like there hasn’t been enough chances to show Osamu’s desire and love for food. I mean, there was that one time Meiko got him to cook food for her even when he was tired and I’m still a bit grumpy about that, but it’s nice that he’s getting a chance to socialize to people like this.

Daichi, starting off with saying he was indisposed—my immediate reaction was to zone in and be like “Meiko” but no. It wasn’t her this time. By this point I was like “but...where is she...?” But also, Daichi is being real polite with the way he’s talking. Curious, but not bad. Just interesting to me.

And here we see Iwaizumi doing the classic “I hold the power. I demand answers” I know that he’ll have his redemption arc but I am just very...at odds with him right now and wind anon disapproves. It’s upsetting to see him actually. I can only imagine how YN feels... (oh, I’ve been thinking of what’d it be like to take the place of Meiko. Not right now because that’s asking for wind anon to wake up to animosity and chaos—scary. But like, if wind anon was from the start... platonic cuddling with YN and no drama...)

But Daichi taking care of the wardrobe malfunction. That’s a cool choice. Though I suppose it makes sense. He’s the steady type. Less impulsive and emotion driven compared to Iwaizumi, but still able to get there. Though, considering the amount of stress Iwaizumi has been under, was it really not a thing to ask for help from one of the members, or to request another person from management? There’s...13 members altogether, so 12 people he’s trying to manage right now. I don’t think there would be much loss having 2 managers to care for 6 main members at a time. Might be more efficient, and they could always try a rotational schedule and collaborate if they want more full house content.

I like how Iwaizumi asked “who and where” and when Daichi replied with only The Who, everyone still moved on. Just shows how frazzled and frantic Iwaizumi is under that calm facade.

Iwaizumi commanding them to leave :0! I was really puzzled at this point. Like the rest of the members, I didn’t understand why he was so adamant considering he had made them go to the event to network. And him forgetting Oikawa...

But moving down to the part where Iwaizumi blows up and tells them to get in the limo (because wind anon doesn’t want her reaction to drag too long), it’s very much like Iwaizumi. First there is the message about “there will be another event where you get to pretend you’re relevant for a couple of hours” oh, wind anon is focusing on that line. Obviously, the fact that they are all preoccupied right now is not a concern to him—but this was very emotionally charged and blunt—he didn’t have the patience to frame his thoughts to something prettier and more logical—this is truly what he thinks. “There will be another event” shows that he believes that there definitely will be one—he’s not trying to cover his words so the fact he mentioned there’s another event means it’s not trying to placate them in a sense. I mean, if he’s trying to placate them, rage is not the way to go about it anyway so it would have been a fail even without this, but he specified the event when he could’ve not said a thing about a future event so, yeah. “Where you get to pretend to be relevant for a few hours” oh my gosh. How to go about analyzing this portion? The content, the emotion, the execution, it’s all so...vivid. (10/10 job as always fr0ggy) the fact that he says pretend to be relevant shows how he views the house. Obviously they like the content they create. They care about the content they create. And sure they may not all be big, but relevant? They’re definitely relevant in your career choice Iwaizumi. They got nominated for an award and it’s not as if they were around for a super long time. It’s impressive. You’ll get attention and more of a fan base. Their relevance will definitely grow. The words by themselves are an attack of sorts to the members, showing his belief that they are shallow and fake and trying to get famous and seem big. Makes him seem like he has an inferiority complex of sorts, the way he’s acting. Take everything I say with a grain of salt though. I’m not a doctor.

Okay, next. We have Daichi, who is more reliable and asks for logic! Thank the lords of the PF universe, I literally wouldn’t be able to take too much emotional charge. And then Meiko’s name pops up. The last time I was writing an ask, I was redesigning Meiko’s entire look, and purely the look. I wasn’t doing a character analysis and I didn’t put anything besides my opinions on a better dress but I saw this and the complete blankness my mind went was astonishing.

“She’s a grown woman Tsumu. I left her alone for a few hours, she can handle that.” Y’know, for a cook, he really didn’t realize that was a recipe for disaster. (B-dum tsss. I do like puns) but she’s been shown to not be able to take care of herself and also have a bad personality on top of that so it really was an explosion in the making. I’m the spectrum of not taking care of myself (skipping meals to do schoolwork...skipping meals to sleep...yeah, no) but I think my personality is decent. But Meiko? I actually thought she might be decent with networking. I mean, she picks up guys quite easily doesn’t she? So I was fascinated with what she could’ve possibly done.

Liquor :0 !! I was never interested in drinking liquor that much (though they are pretty a lot of the times...the colors and bottles and glasses are really nice art subjects). Seeing Meiko makes me want to avoid alcohol even more. She started drinking...gosh, she is...a hot mess. Not even kids would be as bad...

Her being “plastered”? Considering that one time where she started drinking a ton before going to a club and...forcing herself on Suga, and how she managed to leave the bathroom completely composed and such, I was mesmerized at the fact she actually managed to drink enough to get completely wasted. And champagne? She must’ve just stuck around and made a whole group of glasses where she was. Also, she didn’t try to get any guys? Wow. Wind anon is staring at her like she’s a particularly weird specimen. She is so...baffling. Confusing.

She insulted and slapped someone :0!!!!!! The amount of exclamation marks show how intense my reaction is. Violent, violent, and such an idiot Meiko is. I hope management steps in. I can’t stand looking at her. But I mean...once she wakes up, like the morning after, would anyone be willing to look and care for her? Such a mess...

I pity the people in management who would have to smooth this over. Gosh, they need a raise and a fruit basket. Like those fancy ones with the fruit cut into shapes on skewers and such. As well as a box of chocolates.

But yeah, I’ll end it here. Been a while since I have a long reaction. I’m pretty sure I got a bit of the analysis wrong and also rambled a bit too much at times, hmmm.

Okay, headcanon time... imagine YN making make up by breaking all of Meiko’s and she just names the mix “Meiko” because it’s a streaky mess. She packages it and gives it to fans for free. It would be fun :D. Only the eyeshadows and stuff though. I do not trust any thing that would directly touch Meiko...like her lipsticks. Bleh.

Sakusa, Akaashi, Suga, Tooru, and YN being eyeliner group. Just imagine Akaashi tilting your head up with the lightest fingers under your chin, while Sakusa braids your hair and folds in some dark silk flowers with pearl centers into it. YN smiling at them after she comes out, with pomegranate lip tint and a leather jacket. Be dangerous YN. Kill us all. YN supremacy <3.

YN and Atsumu would be the two to have the popsicles that you break apart.

Kenma wears red eyeliner once for a dare or a gift to fans or something and all of his fans decide to pass out.

Osamu and Bokuto doing stuff together to promote healthy living.

Okay, gonna end here. I very much appreciate all the support here. Much love towards those who favorite my asks and such too. I’m super glad you all like hearing from me. I mean, we’re all fans of PF and fr0ggy so I hope that everyone is enjoying all of this as much as I am. You all make me very very happy. Much appreciation to all the anons and ask senders and submissions because everyone is super cool.

Take care fr0ggy! Much hearts to you!

oh geez i hope ur test goes well!!!!!!! i don’t have much to say cs ur incredibly eloquent (as usual) but i rlly like the idea of bokuto n osamu promoting healthy living!!!! that rlly hits cs my family is VERY much into healthy living so that just made me happy hehe ILY I HOPE U HAVE A LOVELY DAY KITH KITH <3333

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : How Does It Feel?

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I am small and the world is big All around me is fast moving

I'm not afraid of anything I just need to know that I can breathe

I'm young, and I am free But I get tired, and I get weak

How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel?

                    The art department was not as impressing as the one at my old uni, but amazing nonetheless. I walked slowly through the barely-started or almost-finished paintings in the empty room, my eyes moving on all the pieces of art. The room felt warm and I knew I'd be happy here. I started wondering if we could spend time here before and after classes but somehow, I felt like asking Louis would be useless. He probably didn't know much about the art department anyway. I glanced back at him and felt my lips curl slightly on the left when I realized he was staring at me from the door. He leaned against the frame, just waiting for me, and I pressed my lips together, feeling extremely thankful that I was not alone. I didn't know why we had bonded so easily but I didn't want to question it. It was the first time I trusted someone as much as I did since... that someone I used to love. But this time, it felt very different.

I ran two of my fingertips on an easel, moving my fingers on dried painting stuck on the wood, and lick my lips. I hadn't worked on my last painting in weeks. In fact, I had not created anything in way too long and I missed it. I wrote down the instructions to find my classes easily the next day and ended up at a small dinner with Louis.

"You really seemed mesmerized earlier." he said softly.

I looked up at him as he sent me a small smile and I bit my bottom lip, raising my eyebrows. Yea, maybe I was a bit fascinated by art, and perhaps it could be a bit weird if you didn't know what it felt like, but the way Louis was smiling at me told he didn't think anything bad of it : he just thought it was funny.

"I'm a bit stressed to get back into it, to be quite honest." I admitted, raising my nose up in a grimace. "I feel like I haven't painted in years."

"You have a painting class tomorrow?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mmhm, and photography, too." I remembered, feeling my heart skip a beat at how stressed I was to start new, especially in the middle of a school year. "I think my day will end with Art History but that's no problem, I'm quite good at that."

"By the end of the year, I'll have let you bring me to a museum." he just said with a chuckle.

"And you can bring me to a football game."

Louis laughed just as we got our plates. We started eating in silence and even if it could be awkward, it really was not. I loved Louis. I didn't have many friends at my old university, and most of those I had didn't even care about me anymore. They had suddenly disappeared after the drama happened and even if I tried to tell myself I couldn't blame them, I still did anyway.

I was about to tell Louis that his friendship meant a lot to me but his phone beeped and I looked at him as he grabbed it, still chewing on the enormous bite he had taken from his pizza.

"Mm, I'm sorry Dev, did you plan on visiting more places this afternoon?" he asked before raising his eyes up and looking at me. "I sort of have an emergency."

I felt suddenly disappointed but I kept it to myself and sent Louis a smile. I knew I was not his only friend, and I know he didn't owe me all his time. Everything just felt easier and safer when he was around. Still, I was not a fragile and pathetic little girl anymore, I could definitely survive a few hours by myself.

"Hey, no worries." I just shrugged, taking a sip of soda. "I'll check a few more classes and go back to my room to prepare my stuff."

Louis stared at me for a few seconds and he seemed skeptical, which surprised me because I knew I was a good liar, and that I could hide my emotions very well. I raised my eyebrows at him and chuckled, shaking my head slightly.

"What?"

"You sure? I feel like shit for ditching you."

This time, I chuckled sincerely. "I'm fine, Louis. You're good. I mean, I know you have a life, can't expect you to spend 24/7 with me!"

"Trust me, I'd prefer to keep visiting with you." he pointed out, making me smile more as he swallowed the last bite of his pizza. "I'll text you yea?"

---

I had spent a few more hours wandering around but I hadn't talked to anyone. I sucked at making friends and I didn't trust easily, and maybe it didn't help. It was probably something about my aura, or simply something that emanated from me, who knew?

I had found the photography class and a few others that seemed to be more about theory but something caught my ears and I frowned slightly. I was not a music student and I knew I was probably super bad at it, but the piano notes made my heart jump in my chest. I've always wanted to learn, but I never had the guts to try. I followed the music who suddenly stopped only to start again from the beginning.

I walked to the door and peeked subtly inside. The first thing I noticed was the piano, placed against a wall. I knew the room was full of different instruments but I didn't have time to check : I was too surprised by who was sitting in front of the piano, his finger sliding skillfully on the keys. He was not too far but he was too focused on what he was doing to notice me. I honestly didn't expect Niall to be studying in music but with the way he played, it was not surprising. He grabbed a notebook and scribbled something quickly before scratching it and writing something else. He put the notebook away and cleared his throat before playing again and this time, I really heard his voice.

"We should twist the knife, put it all to bed, I.... need to understand what it takes to love again."

It's only when he stopped playing again to write some more that I realized I was holding my breath. He left one of his hands near the piano with his fingertips brushing in the keys as he wrote more in his notebook and finally put his pencil in his mouth to try a few more notes. I felt something stir in my stomach and realized tnat the notes he was playing did something to me inside, something I couldn't explain. I normally feel that in front of a special painting or photography that actually makes me feel something but this time, it was a song. A song that apparently, was not even finished. I felt extremely guilty to be there, like I was hearing something I didn't have the moral right to, and I thought about how i'd feel if someone watched me paint without me knowing. I held my breath as he started singing again, taking me out of my thoughts to focus on him singing.

"So come on, love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets 'Cause you got a hold of me, baby Enough to pull me back in deep You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we're tearing at the seams We've both had enough of this, baby So promise me that when you leave You won’t say you'll come back to me."

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, feeling every word in my bones and deep in my stomach. I felt like he was singing about my own story and even if I didn't want to admit it, it hurt me more than I thought it would. Perhaps I was not completely healed from what had happened to me and even if deep down I knew it, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. That's why I was here anyway, right? To get back on my feet and get rid of the feelings for someone who literally broke me?  I came back to reality only when I heard him groan and my eyes fluttered open. He scribbled something again in his notebook and I started nibbling my bottom lip. It was incredible to feel connected to someone who always got on my last nerves. I had known him for only 24 hours and he had made me feel more emotions than most people in my life and that thought alone really bothered me. Of course, they were not all good ones but it still didn't change the fact that this guy easily got to me. At that exact moment though, the feelings inside me were good. Scary, but good.

I thought about everything I went through in the past 2 years of my life. The rumors, the comments, the judging... and also the way I had my heart broken into a million pieces by someone I thought was the love of my life.

Once again, I got out of my daydream and left. In fact, I started running. I sprinted through campus and stopped only when I closed the door of my room and leaned against it. I tried to catch my breath and let myself slide against the door until my ass hit the floor and closed my eyes. I knew heartbreaks take time to heal, but I wanted it to be over now. I wanted to stop thinking about him and what he did to me. I wanted to stop being so sad for someone I knew didn't deserve me. Hearing Niall's words brought everything back to the surface and it pissed me off that I still let these thoughts and feelings invade me like that.

I leaned my head against the door and thought about what had just happened, pushing the bad thoughts away, or at least trying. Niall was an artist and that was probably one of the reasons why he could so easily get to me... and also probably why I felt connected to him in a special way. The truth was, I didn't want to feel connected to an arrogant prick like him. Yes, his song had made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time but that didn't mean him, as a person, made me feel things, right? I groaned low, hating the fact that even his voice seemed to still resonate inside me and got up to take a shower.

I should have gone out to eat something but I was not hungry. This whole thing had left me confused and I tried to get rid of those thoughts but when I got out of the bathroom, Niall was sitting on his bed, typing something on his computer. I glanced at him, feeling my heart skip a beat, remembering that I had literally spied on him and to me, it felt worse than if I had looked at him naked without his consent. Somehow, having your soul exposed seemed way worse than having your body exposed. I was not a big fan of my body, but there were some things engraved in my soul that I didn't want to share, and after hearing Niall's song, I felt like it was the same thing for him.

"Hello Devon, a bit early for a shower?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the screen of his computer. "Did you do the dirty?"

I wanted to be a smartass and tell him I was too busy spying on his writing his new song, but I ended up thinking it could easily turn against me. I rubbed the towel on my dark and and he looked up to stare at me, probably waiting for an answer. The way his eyes softened made me think he could feel bad about teasing me all the time but I pushed that thought away. Niall didn't have weak moments, or at least, not around people. With the lyrics and feelings in his songs, he probably could be weak, sometimes, when he was by himself.

"If I say 'yes', will that bring images to your brain?"

"A shower won't cleanse your soul, I hope you know that." he just replied, ignoring my question.

"Who says my soul needs to be cleansed?"

He raised his eyebrows and a small smile appeared on his lips. I had no idea what he heard in my words, but once again, it felt like he knew something about me that he wasn't allowed to know.

"You got here in the middle of the year, you barely talk to anyone, didn't decorate your side of the room with anything. Everything is so generic with you." he explained, shaking his head slightly. "At first sight, I didn't pin you as a generic kind of girl but that's exactly what you are. It wouldn't surprise me if you told me you're studying to be an accountant or a lawyer."

"Yea, because people with these kinds of job are boring and drab." I let out with sarcasm and a frown.

"See? Once again, you're not telling me anything about you. You're just defending hypothetical people that don't give a shit."

My traits softened and I cleared my throat. Of course he was right, but at the same time, I found out painfully that letting out information about myself could just give weapons to people around me, and that these weapons could end up hurting me. I didn't trust many people, and I didn't trust Niall. Just because I heard him sing one song that made me drown in my own feelings didn't mean that I would now open up to him.

"What are you scared of?" he added in a lower tone after about a minute of silence.

I felt my heartbeats accelerate and swallowed hard. I wanted to let it all out. It was so hard to keep everything inside. I wanted to tell him everything, to express my biggest fears and tell him how much in pain I actually was. But it was Niall Horan, my new roommate and antagonist, and there was no way I would confide in him.

"Nothing."

----

My first class went well and even if it was early in the morning, I was pretty sure I took enough notes to keep up with everything. I hadn't talked to anyone, a bit scared that I would get asked why I actually switched school in the middle of a year, and therefore, haven't made any new friends. I thought about Louis but I knew he couldn't entertain me all the time and that I'd have to make friends with a few people on my classes. I thought about just blatantly lying about the reason I was now in this school and started thinking of a plausible answer during my second class. I was surprised when I was asked to actually paint but since it was not really the beginning of the school year, it was quite normal. I hadn't brought any of my paintings with me. I had decided to leave them all at my old university. I had no idea who had them now, and when I thought about it, I told myself they were probably just in the garbage, where they belonged. I normally keep everything or almost, but these creations didn't reflect who I was anymore, and looking at them only made me feel like shit.

I started my new painting with a lot of dark blue and grey and I was not sure why. Perhaps it just represented the colors of my soul or something cliché like that. It's only on my first class in the afternoon that everything changed.

Art History has always been fascinating to me and I knew that we would get to see a lot of art by many different artists and learn about them and how they changed the artistic world. I wanted to be able to interpret art, from an analytic point of you but also in an emotional way. It was always something that interested me and one of my favorite classes.

The bad thing when you get in a new school is that you know no one. The good thing is... no one knows you. In my case, I enjoyed both for the time being, and I'd try to make friends later... maybe. That's why I was so shocked when I entered the art history class and saw him. I had to put up with him almost every evening, night and morning. Why did I have to, again, in one of my classes?

His eyes met mine and I thought I would see a smirk draw itself on his mouth but instead, his lips opened slightly as if he was surprised to see me there. I took a seat and his eyes followed me, making me suddenly very nervous. He kept staring at me for a while before turning around again and I let my shoulders fall. Would he talk to me? Would he mention anything? Would he tease me?

I blinked a few times when the class started and decided to focus on learning instead of thinking non-stop about my roommate. I got suddenly excited when it was mentioned that we were going to visit a museum and make a paper about it but a bit less happy when I was told it would be in a team of four.

"Devon Eaton with... Daxia Lee, and Asher Johnson and finally, Niall Horan."

I realized I had stopped breathing only when Niall's eyes moved on me again. I thought It could be a great opportunity to meet people and potential new friends, but I hadn't expected this at all. Once again, I was stuck with him.

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Shklance - Courting

I worked hard on this one, guys. Hope you like it; I think it’s one of my favorites :)

Pretty sure next week I will be posting an MCU story, because I have a finished one in my files and it’s midterm season so I’ve really not had a ton of brains left to write haha. I do still have one that I’m working on, and then I think I actually finally figured out what I want to continued my necromancer!Lance story, so hopefully I can work on that this week and have it ready to go soon. But really, this is me apologizing cause I’m really not sure how much new stuff I’ll get written, but midterms should end this week :)

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

           Really, in hindsight, they supposed it was kind of obvious. All it took was a few study dates with Lance, the last of these ending with Lance realizing he was late for work and rushing out of their apartment, so distracted he didn’t even realize that he’d hugged Shiro (who had just returned from fetching him a glass of water) and kissed Keith on the cheek on his way out, leaving both of them standing there staring at him like idiots.

Shiro recovered first and glanced quickly at Keith to see if he’d noticed. He chuckled at the look on his boyfriend’s face. “You know you’re smitten, right?”

           “Oh ya, like you’re not?” Keith shot back. Shiro sighed.

           “I never said I wasn’t, Keith, would you relax? I was just making an observation.”            “Just making an observation, my ass,” Keith muttered mutinously. There was a pause, and then Keith relented. “What are we gonna do?”

           “We court him.”

           Despite the tension in the room, Keith found himself bursting into laughter at that. “Court him?” he sputtered, “What the hell century are you living in, Shiro?”

           “Oh shut up!” Shiro snapped, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose flushing a deep red. “He deserves to be treated well!”            “Well that, at least, I can agree with.” Keith finally managed to calm himself down, and then he moved toward Shiro. “What about us?”

           Shiro looked down at him blankly. “What about us? I know for a fact you don’t want to be wooed, and I don’t need to be courted, plus we’re already dating.”

           Keith stared at him. “But what if he—”

           “Keith,” Shiro broke in, now chuckling himself, “we’re courting him together, you got that, right? It’s both of us or neither of us, ya moron.”

           “…Oh. I didn’t… didn’t know that was a thing.”

           Shiro gave him a bright smile and pulled Keith into a hug. “That’s okay, but I think we’ve got something to teach you about polyamorous relationships before we even try to court Lance, don’t you think?”

           “Fine. But after that…”

           “Yeah. After that, we make our move on Lance. Promise.”

             It took some time, but soon enough Keith had been educated on the how’s of polyamorous relationships, and they had worked out a game plan to get Lance’s attention. It was a simple plan: Lance had mentioned wishing he had the time to relax that weekend. They knew he had several tests over the course of a few days, and that he had been working more hours than usual that month, in the hopes of saving enough money for tickets back home during their upcoming break. The problem was, Lance hadn’t had a chance to clean his apartment, and so was planning to use his weekend to catch up on those things. But Keith had pointed out how much Lance’s work seemed to be suffering during their study sessions, his normally correct work somehow coming out wrong 9 times out of 10, and his beautiful penmanship nothing more than chicken scratch. Shiro had responded by sharing that Lance had looked especially tired the last couple of days especially, his normally soft and shiny hair greasier than they’d ever seen, and dark shadows under his eyes.

           So that productive weekend he was expecting (but they knew he was also dreading)? Not happening. They would take care of it for him, and then make sure he got the relaxing weekend he was so desperately craving (even if he wouldn’t say that he was).

           Now, neither of them were entirely sure how they were going to get into Lance’s apartment, but Keith was confident he would be able to manage fairly easily.

           Unfortunately, Shiro was a jerk and also a fun-sucker, and he wouldn’t let Keith break into Lance’s apartment (even after promising that he “wouldn’t damage anything and would be super, super careful, c’mon, Shiroooo!”), so they wound up going to their local Lance expert.

           “Um, no offense, cause I love you guys and you’re both absolutely my friends, but like. Why do you need a key to Lance’s apartment?”

           It may have looked like Hunk was including both of them in his question, but Keith knew, okay he just knew that Hunk was eyeing him suspiciously. He huffed. He’d only dumped chocolate sauce on Lance the one time, and it had been a complete accident. It’s not like he spent all his free time trying to figure out how to make Lance’s life miserable! He was too busy dreaming of hugging him, and kissing him, and bringing him food and gifts… Oops. He’d zoned out again.

           “…trying to help him, I promise, Hunk. He just seems like he’s under a lot of stress, and we want to try and take care of some of it for him,” Shiro was saying.

           Hunk bit his lip, a flash of something in his eyes. Keith was curious, but before he could say anything, Hunk had set his jaw, determination in every single one of his features. “Don’t worry about a key, you guys will manage.”

           At that, Shiro and Keith exchanged confused looks, but before Shiro could ask, Hunk was already marching away. There was a moment of silence, and then…

           “Cool, I still get to break in!” Keith cheered.

           Shiro sighed.

           Okay, so yeah, Keith had figured breaking in would be easy… but not that easy.

           “What the hell?!” Keith stared at Shiro’s hand in shock, still resting on the knob of the completely unlocked door to Lance’s apartment. “What is he doing; that’s not safe at all!”

           Shiro was inspecting the door frame and the knob, and after some fiddling he said, “I think the lock is busted.”

           “…What?”

           “He didn’t do it on purpose, Keith,” Shiro said, moving further into the apartment and looking around curiously. His heart sunk as he took in their precious boy’s living space. “Damn he’s been struggling a lot more than he let on.”

           Keith followed, and he was sad to see that Shiro was right. The kitchen was bare, a small number of dishes stacked in the sink, and none remaining in the cupboards. Keith left Shiro inspecting the kitchen to go take a look at the bedrooms. In one, most of the walls and shelves were bare of any personalization, although there were some pictures of their friend group and some of Lance’s family and childhood friends slapped up haphazardly near the bed. The bed itself was perfectly made and even slightly dusty, as if Lance didn’t sleep there often. The other bedroom was even more empty than this one, and how long had Lance been without a roommate?

           Keith wandered back towards the kitchen. “Shiro… how many hours did Lance say he was working, again?”

           “…30…”

           “And how much do these apartments cost?”

           Shiro crossed his arms. “More than he’s making with just his shop at the coffee shop. Unless he has a roommate.”

           Keith gestured back down the hall at the bedrooms. “Well you can rule out the roommate.”

           “…well, shit. No wonder he’s so tired all the time.”

Keith huffed. “What are we gonna do, Shiro? We can’t let him keep doing this to himself!”

           Shiro’s face was twisted into a grimace, eyes lost in thought. Then he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides, body loosening its tense stance. “Let’s just… Let’s do what we came to do, and we’ll talk to him when he comes home. Maybe call Hunk and talk to him first. But, I promise, Keith, we’ll figure out a way to help him. Maybe see if he wants to move in with us, since we’re off campus and have a little more room. We’ll figure it out.”

           Keith nodded, relief shining in his eyes as Shiro took charge, easily directing their cleaning efforts as they bounced ideas off of each other. Keith was a big fan of having Lance move in; all they would need was a bigger bed! Shiro had shook his head and laughed, a counteroffer at the ready.

           “Keith, we can’t rush this. Lance is a proud guy; he may not want to move in with us right off the bat.”

           “But—”

           “Oh, we’re definitely going to offer it to him. You and I usually share a room anyway, and he can have the second bedroom. But he might prefer to stay here and have some independence. Then maybe we could offer to help pay the second half of his rent. Or even just sneak some groceries into his apartment. Just keep an open mind, okay?”

           Keith was quiet for so long that Shiro was afraid he’d upset him somehow, so he abandoned his current task of organizing all the homework and textbooks that had been scattered around the floor of the living room area (glaring at the blanket and pillow on the couch, because he was pretty sure those meant that Lance had been sleeping on the couch more than his own bed and that was a horrible thought).

           “Keith?” he called.

           When he was met with more silence, his worry only grew, until he turned the tight corner and found Keith sitting on his butt in front of some cabinets. Keith looked up at him, tears in his eyes and all but wailed at Shiro, “He doesn’t even have any food in here!”

           Shiro closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

           Yeah, they were going to be having words with their boy, this was just unacceptable.

[fashournalist]

A coffee-buffet-stroll-grocery-coffee kind of day with bb (best eat-all-you-can experience so far!)

When all you think of are work and adulting, it’s great to have a break, escape from your routine, and spend the whole day with someone who genuinely cares and reminds you to enjoy life--explore the world one adventure at a time. It’s like going on a field trip, but instead of being surrounded by 100 kids (whom you may not know well), you’re with someone you can be 100% yourself with. And when all stresses pile up, sometimes you just have to be reminded that you have each other. : )

One of the earliest plot twists of this year is having this escapade with my close friend/sibling (and favorite buffet buddy!) Karl! It was truly something Niu. First we had Bonitos buffet in LB (2017), then Buffet 101 in Alabang (2018), then Sambokojin at Megamall with Hannah (2020), and now, Niu by Vikings! (View some of our past adventures here )

I decided to make this a text-form post because photo diaries are limited to 10 pictures at a time; but oh well, I’d love to share our January 30 in detail :)

Our first stop was Capitol Commons Starbucks (8AM-10AM)

Second stop: Niu by Vikings (11:00 onwards)

Third stop: SM Aura stroll

Fourth stop: S&R grocery

Fifth stop: Paseo de Magallanes

I had three first times in a single day!! Thank you so much bb for inviting me to hang out and making time for me despite your very, very busy schedule <3 I will never forget this day and I’m excited to create more beautiful memories with you--whether it’s a simple sound trip at a parking lot, a road trip, a coffee date, an acads session, or a “field trip” with five stops like today!

Read on if you want to view more photos from today’s escapade (mostly from Niu :) And thank you bb for taking my OOTDs too hehe)

Part I: Capitol Commons

We forgot to take a selfie at Starbucks and didn’t notice how fast the time was haha. Two hours just flew by and it was time to go to Niu. Actually, the whole day just flies by when I’m with you.  

I missed our road-trips-slash-sound-trips!! It seems only yesterday when we headed to MainLib, or IRRI, or Calamba, or Southwoods so we can study (or just chill.) It’s because of a road trip with you that I loved Ben&Ben in 2017!

Part II. The Niu experience

It was our first time here, and whoa, see the difference from the usual Vikings!

Loved the interiors and the ambience!

Their selections offer more dishes as well, yayy!

Boy, look at all that cholesterol. Isn’t it splendid?

Happy they have lamb and lengua as The Alley by Vikings didn’t have them.

Of course, there is no forgetting that we are still in a pandemic.

Hello, addiction! Sushi, maki, and sashimi!!!

Love these refreshing drinks!! 

Boy, they have free booze! I almost gave it a try but am scared I’d get drunk with a few sips since I never tried alcohol before haha xD 

Their seafood thermidor was the bomb! It’s my first time ever to try this dish, as well as other dishes I only saw on Hayday before (shepherd’s pie, for example). Karl is an amazing chef and it’s great he knows how to cook some of these, too. Flex ko lang na sobrang galing nya rin magbake, guys, check out Packed Munchies Sent on Facebook to order his ube choco pandesal, cookies, and more sweets!

Couldn’t get enough of the salmon sashimi, pizza, dimsum, dark chocolate brittle, and French macarons! Also learned to be careful when eating food whose name can’t be pronounced HAHA.

Niu’s tempura was one of Karl’s faves, along with carrot cake and blueberry cheescake!! Hi bb :D

As a professional buffet queen, eating with five plates to taste a bit of everything is normal HAHA chour.

OOTD! I LOVE this pink jacket Karl gave!! It’s always been a dream to have a jacket in this specific shade waaa! And he didn’t know it was my dream so this was really a lovely surprise (i think it’s the platonic equivalent of maternal instinct hehe) thank you soooo much bb! :D

We really enjoyed our Niu experience, yay! But our date was far from over hehe.

Part III. SM Aura stroll

Our selfie with Momi at the Department Store.

Sigh, this is only my second time at Aura, and I remember the first time, I didn’t even have a 20 peso bill. All I had were coins. Long story short, I was invited to attend a networking event on May 13 2017 and they gave me a ride back and forth. But I didn’t have anything, couldn’t even buy a bottle of water because nothing is free at Aura. I said, someday, I’ll be back, and be able to eat here. I didn’t know that I wouldn’t just get to eat, I would eat in a buffet! And with someone very dear to me! 

Sometimes Karl and I just look back at our college days and we’re amazed at how we’re adulting now. I remember him saying in 2018 that the things that used to be only dreams before are now becoming possible for us : )

Anyway, here is another OOTD at Aura’s Sky Garden! Thank youuuu bb for taking these photos yayyy (pandemic inspired haha porma porma pa rin kahit naka face mask and face shield)

I missed uploading outfit posts hueuhe should i revive the fashion part of this blog? Haha fashournalist started as a style diary in 2011 and it evolved into a memory box filled with throwbacks and so many things in between

I tried taking a stolen photo of Karl, too haha:

Part IV: S&R grocery

I’m ecstatic you guys, I’ve never been inside S&R before haha! I remember in June 18, 2016, after my lab test at Hi-Precision Santa Rosa, Dad and I tried to enter S&R in Nuvali. I thought they could welcome non-members if it’s just the pizza we’re after. But nope, no entry for us haha! Was able to try their pizza elsewhere like at Newport and other malls, but I still wanted to stroll inside their grocery someday. The day has arrived! (next goal: sneak into Landers even without membership haha)

Only bought four items (two of which i’ve never tried before) as I made sure I would not overspend haha and am scheduled to buy stuff at Puregold the following day--little did I know that products in S&R are actually cheaper! Their Corned Lechon, for example, is 9 pesos cheaper compared to that in Puregold! 

Part V: Paseo de Magallanes

This is another first time for me as I could not reach this place without a car haha. It’s a very cozy place. 

I love that we started and ended our day with coffee :) 

Coffee, tons of food and tons of stories in between! Thank you sooo much bb for this memorable date! And super thank you for the jacket, as well as Dad’s black towel! I am touched by how you remembered Dad loves the color black so much (and how I love pink, too huhu). Every moment with you is memorable, no matter how simple, or grand. We used to study for exams, cram papers together, study in libraries or IRRI, eat in canteens like Kentz in Demarces--all the simple things. Now we get to experience more adventures in more places! : )

When all you think of are work and adulting, it’s great to have a break, escape from your routine, and spend the whole day with someone who genuinely cares and reminds you to enjoy life--explore the world one adventure at a time.

I am super glad and grateful we had this January 30 bonding, Karl :) Thank you for being so thoughtful, caring, and sweet <3 (I and everyone you love are so lucky to have someone like you in our lives) Looking forward to more milestones and memories with you bb, cheers to all the adventures ahead of us! Love youuuuuuu

Always,

Grace :)

[onceuponaloonatic]

Sai visiting the triplets' apartment after finals ended and they play Cards Against Humanity with booze ‐🍊

When the triplets became old enough to drink, Sai had been the one to introduce them to alcohol. Sure their parents had given them all half a cup of wine and beer to try but Sai had been the one to really introduce them to the hard stuff. She had even introduced Saya and Saki to it before they were old enough to drink. She knew they were going to parties in high school, and she wanted to be there with them as they tried it for the first time and found out their limits. Sure Sai would always see her sisters as babies, but it was nice to have them as her drinking buddies. Especially Saya and Saki, Sae had little to no tolerance. If Mina, Sana, and Tzuyu knew about it they never intervened. Sai may sound like a bad influence, but she always kept their safety in mind. She would always look out for the little sisters. No matter what.

Sai had graduated college by the time her sisters were in it. But she knew how stressful it was, and on breaks from her schedule she would go visit them. Especially right after finals. She had texted Sae to say she was coming over, but when she showed up the triplets were all still a bit surprised.

“Unnie? Is that beer?” Saya asked as she saw a six pack of beer in her sister's hand.

“You know it is.” Sai giggled. “Now let me in, it’s cold.” Saya stepped to the side and Sai came in, setting the beer down on the kitchen table. 

“Hey Unnie.” Saki was on the couch flipping through the channels. “Hey Sak.” Sai smiled at her little sister.

“You know I’ve never understood that nickname. Saki only has one more syllable-”

“I’ve been calling you that since you were seven, don’t try to overanalyze it now.” Sai rolled her eyes, throwing Saki a beer. “Where’s Sae?” 

“Shower.” Saya informed as she came into the living room, grabbing a can of beer and opening it. “She was out with Dae.” 

“Oh really?” “Yeah but he had to go home to babysit Haeun.” Saki explained. “Anyway, what did you have in mind for tonight?” “Well I was thinking maybe we could play cards.” Sai put the bag she was carrying on her shoulder down. “I brought cards against humanity.” “Cards against humanity and booze?” Saya asked. “Have I ever told you you're the best sister ever?” 

“No never. You have never been nice to me once.” Sai rolled her eyes as she pulled the box of cards out. “And after I’ve always been so generous to you.” “This is the first nice thing you’ve done in like a year.” Saya nodded, pulling out the black cards and setting them aside. 

“Hey I’ve done tons of nice stuff for you throughout your entire life you ungrateful brat.” Sai nudged her sister's side. “Anyway, we can’t start until Sae is ready.” “I know.” Saya nodded. “I’m just shuffling the cards.” “Go ahead.” Sai took a can of beer and opened it. “How was finals?” “Tiring, but it’s over now.” Saki moved to a better spot on the couch to play the game. “How’s idol life?” “It has its ups and downs.” Sai nodded. “I did a shoot with mom and Nico, it was some kind of generational feature for a magazine or something. That was fun. I was worried because she was so excited in the car, but when we got there she was super professional.” “Mom’s had her doing modeling jobs since she was born.” Saki shrugged. “Unlike the rest of us apparently it’s okay if Nico does it.” “Well I think it’s more that Nico wants to do it. I did a shoot with mom once when I was three and mom said I had a huge diva meltdown, and I’m sure she thought all three of you at once would be a lot.” Sai explained. “I get where she’s coming from, Nico is the most mellow of us as a toddler.” “I suppose. Sae was pretty mellow though right?” “Sae was afraid of everything.” Sai scoffed. “The first time mom took you guys to one of her shoots Sae started crying because of the flashing lights.” “Really?” Saya laughed at the thought.

“Yeah. Plus any time moms had you guys do family photoshoots just for us you were always the worst. Saya you could never stay still, Sae would usually start crying, and Saki you just followed Sae and Saya.” Sai laughed at the memory. “I don’t remember much, I was only five at the time. But I did remember you guys causing lots of headaches. Mama says I did too, but Nico is the most mellow of us all. The girl couldn’t be a headache if she tried.” “She is pretty sweet.” Saki laughed. 

“Oh she can be a headache.” Saya groaned, taking another sip of beer. “At least she can be to me. She’s locked me out of the house twice, taken my keys because she thought they were a toy, and much much more.” “Yeah but you signed yourself up for that. Your the one who acts like you hate her the most, of course she’s going to torture you.” Sai commented. “It’s payback for being such a bitch Saya.” “Shut up.” Saya rolled her eyes. “I was fifteen.” “You still act like it, Saya.” Saki laughed at her fellow triplet. She turned when she heard the water for the shower turn off. “It sounds like Sae is done.” “Oh finally. I see princess Sae still showers forever.” Sai mentioned, taking another sip of beer and starting to deal out white cards face down. “Yeah, I’ve tried to start cutting her down to forty five minutes or less. She steals all the hot water.” Saya whined.

“You take like ten minute showers at the most.” Saki rolled her eyes. “You are largely unaffected by Sae’s showers.” “Well I like them short and sweet.” Saya retorted. “It’s better than Sae’s bathes that she takes at four am.” “Sae takes baths at four am?” Sai asked, clearly confused. “She says it’s for when her period hits her at night. Apparently the hot water helps.” Saki shrugged. “Makes sense.” Sai nodded, finishing dealing out the cards. “Did you see the new video of Nic mom posted on tik tok?” “Which one?” Saki asked, picking up her cards and glancing at them.

“The dance one.” Sai explained.  

“Honestly, it’s crazy my four year old sister has a better social media presence than I do.” Saya rolled her eyes. “How many followers does she have?” “Just a bit less than Saki.” Sai picked up her cards too. “So I guess she’s third overall in follower count.” “And she’s four years old.” Saya rolled her eyes. “Well mom manages it. She’s been working in the entertainment industry since she was fourteen, she knows the ins and outs pretty well.” Sai took a sip of beer with one hand as she studied her cards. “Plus Nico has been all over youtube and tik tok since before she was born. We were posting videos before she was even born.” “Yeah…” Saya sighed in relief when they heard the lock to the bathroom door click. Sae stepped out, already in her pajamas and drying her hair with a towel, with a sheet mask on her face.

“Unnie! You're here!” Sae smiled as she saw Sai. “Yup, we were waiting on you princess.” Sai had started calling Sae princess when she was two. Even though Sae had tried to tell her sister she outgrew the nickname Sai was never going to let it go, just like she would never let go of calling her sisters the babies. “Oh sorry.” Sae apologized, stepping further into the living room. “Beer and cards?” “Yup.” Sai nodded. “You're up first, I dealt the cards.” Sai explained as Sae sat down. 

“Sure.” Sae nodded. 

“How was your date?” Sae blushed faintly, the masked hiding her face as she flipped over a black card.

“Fun. We went to a movie.” Sae said, watching as each of her sisters put cards forward. She couldn’t keep a straight face as she read their answers. She eventually picked the most stupid one, the point going to Saki. 

“Movie date? Lame.” Sai laughed at Sae as Saya slipped a card over.

“I know right? They are so vanilla.” Saya agreed. 

“Hey movie dates are good.” Sae pouted, looking over her cards to pick a good one. “Saki back me up.” “I mean, did you at least make out in the bathroom?” Saki asked. “No!”

“Your nineteen Sae, you went on the same dates when you were sixteen.” Sai rolled her eyes as Saya gave the point to Sae. “Live a little.” “Don’t encourage reckless behaviour Unnie. You're the one who’s protective over me.” Saki flipped over a black card.

“Yeah well movie dates are just a little lame. It’s not the nineteen thirties. At least make out in the bathroom or something. No sex, but making out is fine.” Sai nodded. “You tell me if he’s acting up though, I’ll kick his ass.” Saki gave the point to Sai. They had played the game many times together since the triplets had moved out, so they were comfortable carrying a conversation while they played. They had always had that comfortable relationship together. As sisters they had always been fairly close, and they were all comfortable around each other. 

“I know Unnie…” And Sae wouldn’t have it any other way.

[beeeeeeecause]

Makeshift Couples Counseling

*

Dust flies from the mattress as you flop onto the worn cushions, a creak resonating from the bedspring. Your eyes are screwed shut and fists are clenched. You vaguely hear someone else enter the room but there's too much buzzing in your mind to acknowledge it.

"Hey, dude, are okay?"

Lydia's voice barely registers. You consider not responding and just letting her get the idea: you want to be left alone. But you love this girl too much to give her even a hint of cold shoulder.

"I'm fine Lyd's."

You roll over onto your stomach and try to release the tension in your body.

"You sure? Cuz it looks like you're crying into my pillow right now."

Were you crying? Huh. When did that start?

You fingertips brush under your own eyes and collect the moisture there.

Lydia is still in the door way, studying you. With hair frazzled and dark circles, there was nothing you could say to convince her you're stable.

"It's just a headache, keeps coming and going." You reply weakly. Just as you finish your sentence, another guest appears in the doorway, this one less welcome.

"There's my girl!" The all too familiar, raspy voice exclaims. But there's no affection in his voice—only disparagement.

"Aaaaaaand it's back again."

Lydia glances between you and Beetlejuice, with her arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"Are you two okay?" She points her finger incredulously at you two.

You don't have the heart to look at him right now, you know if you lift your head all the angry tears will spill over and you'd really rather not start a screaming match with him in front of a 16 year old girl.

"Oh, us? We're peachy keen, super in love, nothin' to worry about here." The ghost smiles unconvincingly and pats your leg. The gesture almost makes you punch him.

Lydia is too smart for her own good, and she knows you far too well for this weak charade to fool her. She takes careful note of the way you subtly move away from Beetlejuice's touch, very unlike you.

"No. You're not. Tell me what's going on before I go get Barbra."

You roll over and sit up so fast you make yourself dizzy.

"Don't get Barbra! We can sort it out ourselves!"

"Aha!," She points at you with manicured nails.

"So there is something wrong, what the hell happened? You two never argue."

"Everybody argues, kid. We're not saints."

It unnerves you how soft he's being towards her. He's less rowdy, for once, Beetlejuice is still. He's hurting.

She sits on the bed between you two. She's fiddling with her hands, the situation had made her anxious and that's the last thing you want.

"Hey," you say gently, urging her to look at you.

"We're fine hun, you don't have to worry."

Your comforting seems in vain, as her pained expression doesn't change.

Beetlejuice clasps a hand on her shoulder. Her head snaps towards him.

"This shit happens kid. Don't get all worked up about it." — Kind with a hint of insensitive, very on brand for him.

"I know I just...I wouldn't want you two to break up or something."

She looks down at her lap and sniffles.

"You guys are my family, I don't want something to happen, a-and you guys not to hang out with all of us anymore."

You hasn't really thought about the ramifications your relationship would have on the teenage girl. Sure, the three of you were close, but it was becoming evident just how much she valued the makeshift family she had.

Your arm wrapped around her middle.

Beetlejuice looked at you then, his head tilted slightly and a sad smile on his face. You reciprocated the sentiment.

"Lydia...that's never gonna happen." You told her reassuringly.

"Sure, Beej and I have our problems, but he's the only one for me. I'm not leaving him—"

"—and we're not leaving you, kiddo" He finishes for you.

"Not even death could do us part."

In that moment, whatever the hell you two had been arguing about didn't seem to matter so much anymore. Relationships were hard and complicated and challenging, but there was nothing you wouldn't do for your family.

With one glance he seems to understand exactly what was going through your head, and your heart filled with affection.

His fingers intertwined with yours behind Lydia, as he flashed a genuine smile.

After a few seconds of basking in the warmth of your family's affection, Barbra's voice sounded from a kitchen, calling for Lydia.

"I should go see what she wants, will you guys be okay?"

You both nodded.

"We're good babes."

Her black dress flared as she turned and left the room. A comfortable silence settled.

"I'm sorry."

You and beetlejuice spoke at the same time, making  you both quietly laugh.

He yanked at your intertwined hands and pulled you to his chest. Your head buried in his striped suit jacket.

"Listen babydoll, I get it, I can be insufferable as shit and probably really fucking annoying—"

"Both of those things are very true yes."

He playfully pinches your side, hard, and you yelp.

"Yeah yeah, whatever, what I'm tryna say is, I love ya, and I'm sorry for bein' a dick these last few days."

You wrap your arms around his torso, a silent way of letting him know you accept his apology. Though, you know Beetlejuice is more of a 'words of affirmation' type of guy. Your voice is small when you finally speak up.

"I forgive you, Beej. I'm sorry for being so harsh. I know you're just trying to make me happy...it's just everything going on lately, all the planning, it gets to me sometimes."

He strokes your back lovingly, causing you to shiver because his hands are goddamn freezing.

"I know you've been stressed lately babes, and I wanna help out, but you've gatta let me," he tells you calmly.

"...so are you gonna put it back on?" He adds nervously.

You pull back from his arms to look into his eyes. He's fidgeting slightly, and looks all around anxious. The guilt hits you like a ton of bricks. You nod sheepishly.

"I never should have taken it off. I'm sorry."

He slides the engagement ring back on your finger with ease, and relief flooding his features.

"I get it, babes, it's alright, but uhhh, try not to do it again?"

You kiss him softly, trying to convey how sorry you are, and how much you miss not fighting with him. You were both wrong in a lot of ways. Perhaps just because you're so used to agreeing on everything, but as you've come to find out: planning a wedding is far from easy.

When you stop for a breath, he peppers kisses along your jaw line, and pecks your nose.

"I love you Beej."

"Yeah yeah, I know—hey! Don't hit me! I love you too!"

the previous tension in the room dissolves into giggles.

Lydia sat on the floor, ear pressed to the closed wooden door to her own bedroom. Barbra and Adam leaned over her, both itching to hear what was happening on the other side of the wall.

"Did it work?" Adam finally asked.

Lydia shushed him with a finger to her lips and a quick glare.

A few more seconds pass before she stands up and nods at the couple.

"All fixed, no more arguing." She says proudly.

They sigh with relief, letting their shoulders sag.

"Oh, thank god, I couldn't stand their fighting any longer." Barbra sighs.

"I'm just glad I won't have to deal with Beetlejuice's loneliness-induced temper tantrums anymore."

Lydia nods her head in agreement.

"Did they really think we wouldn't be able to tell something was wrong?"

Barbra shrugs. 

"You know how they are, they like doing everything themselves. What did you say to them to get them to make up anyway?"

The dark haired girl smiles mischievously.

"Gave em' the whole, 'if you break up it'll ruin my life' type of talk.

She wraps her arm around her shoulder.

"Nice work, hun."

[Heres more content that no one asked for lmao]

[the-weeping-author]

Dirty surprise

A/N: this is my first ever stranger things fic so plzzz be nice I got this idea with the help from @ahoy-stevieboy I hope y’all like. Also I write in first person sorry it’s just what I’m comfortable with so I still hope y’all like it. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list. ~Destiny

Summary: Steve “the hair” Harrington has never been big on celebrating birthdays so of course it’s a surprise but he thinks y’all are going to his lake house for different reasons.

Warnings: cussing, smoking, underage drinking. Mentions of sex, teasing.

Word count: 3471

(Please don’t copy my fics and say they are yours.)

Tag list ~ @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @galactic-kitten-nonsense and @linkispink1995 @hoaxsteve @themultifandomwhoresblog

Please enjoy 😌

I had this whole weekend planned out without My boyfriend Steve finding out which was extremely difficult, I mean everyone knew I was with Steve’s but that didn’t seem enough for them to know he wanted everyone to think we were Siamese twins and even I started to believe it. Luckily I had One of Steve’s best friends distract him for this week so I could get everything done for this weekend. Of course I had to pay Dustin for distracting him even thought he would be at the party also but some how he convinced me to pay him for his big help in my devious plan.

It was Tuesday the last day of school and I couldn’t be more ecstatic about it, no more waking up early to tease my hair, no more stress studying, no more homework assignments and most importantly no more upside down. This summer is going to be great I just know it, as the final bell rang I quickly got out of my seat and I ran out the classroom pushing past the other obnoxious students I quickly walk to my locker when I opened it and put my text books in it my locker slammed shut making me let out a startled scream the sound of Steve’s chuckling rang into my ears making me roll my eyes and look at him.

“That was so totally not funny.” He smiled at me and grabbed my hand. “You’re right babe it wasn’t.. it was hilarious.” My smile had dropped and he wrapped an arm around me. “Awe come on I was just joking destiny.” I looked up at him and kissed his cheek. “I know you were Steve I just like give you a hard time.” We started walking down the halls I noticed Nancy and Jonathan near the doors but before I could say anything Steve was already talking to them. “Hey what are you guys doing this weekend?” They both snapped their heads towards us and looked at me and I shook my head without Steve noticing. Johnathan went to speak but Nancy cut him off. “Johnathan and I are going on a date this weekend.”

She looked up at Jonathan and smiled innocently at him, when I looked at Steve he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “All weekend?” It was Johnathans turn to Interrupt her “no but we are both pretty busy this weekend.” I saw Steve’s smile drop even more which made my heart ache, I know I shouldn’t feel bad because I told his friends lie to him but only because I love him and I want him to finally enjoy a birthday. I looked at him and pulled him along with me. “Come on Steve lets leave them alone.” He looked at me like he wanted to object but he followed anyways.

When we got to his BMW I kissed his lips, he immediately kissed back when I pulled away. When he looked down at me he wore a huge smile. “What was that for?” I looked up at him my cheeks turning a tint of light pink. “nothing.. while I have attention why don’t we go up to your lake house this weekend for your birthday.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Ah Henderson you’re finally we are finally going to take our relationship to the next level?” I looked up at him and bit my lip. “Maybe, maybe not who knows.” He shrugged and walked over to my side of the car and opened the door. “Come on baby let me drive you home.” I nodded and walked over and got in the car.

He shut the door after I got in he walked around to the driver side and I popped the door open some for him. “By the way babe my mom wants you over for dinner tonight since I told her we were going up to the cabin this weekend.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Alright how does 7 sound?” I think for a moment and nod. “It sounds perfect.” I held his hand and I looked out the window while he sang to some song on the radio. I kinda started getting nervous about dinner tonight I mean my mother had a love hate relationship with him especially since he started dating me. I mean I was her only daughter so that was a given.

As soon as he stopped in front of my house he gave me a quick kiss to my neck and I giggled. “Steve that isn’t my cheek.” He pulled away and smiled lovingly at me and grabbed my hand. “I know but I just wanted to kiss you.” I smiled and I grabbed my backpack. “well thank you if you wanted a kiss you should have ask I’ll never denie the king of Hawkins high a kiss.” I say in a honored manner as I start playfully worshipping him, he chuckled at me and shook his head a smile prominent on his face. “oh hush destiny that’s not the kind of worship I want.” He smirked and I let out a gasp. “You’re such a perv.” He laughs and I open the car door and I go to get put when he grabs my wrist.

“Wait destiny.” I turned and look at him. “Yes baby?” He smiled and leaned over. “I want another kiss before you go.” I playfully scold him. “If you want to come get me at 7 I have to go clean up and stuff or my mother won’t let me go.” He pouts and groans. “B-but destiny I want your lovin’.” I giggle at him and slap his hand playfully. “You always get my lovin’ harrington.” He smiled at me and I got out of his car and walked towards my house when I got on the porch I turned and waved at him he waved back and blew me a kiss, then he started to drive off I watch his car until he was out of sight. I laid against my door and I sighed contently. “God I loved him.” I walked in the door and I yelled out.

“Mom, Dustin I’m home.” I walked into the kitchen and saw my mother cleaning. “Hey mom Steve and I have a date at 7, but don’t worry We are still on for our cleaning party.” She turned and smiled at me. “Alright honey where are you guys going?” I looked at her and shrugged. “Don’t know Steve wants to keep it a secret so I honestly don’t know.” She smiled at me and put some started getting stuff out for dinner. “He loves you cupcake.” I smiled at some one else besides myself hearing it. “I love him to momma.” She put the cans down and sat at the kitchen table and she told me to sit down so I did. “Baby you’re at the age now where-.” I quickly cut her off. “Mom as much as I love you I don’t need the sex talk.”

She smiled at me and laughed. “No, no honey that’s not what I was going to tell you.” I nodded my head and waited for her to continue. “Love comes once a life more than once if you’re lucky, so I’ve heard from a little birdie that y’all have told each other that you love each other.” My cheeks turned red at her calling me out then it hit me. “Mom was the birdie curly haired and super nosy?” She chuckled and I made a mental note to kill him later. “Anyways honey what I’m getting at is don’t let him slip away if you love him, tell him don’t wait until it’s too late.” I nodded then I noticed the clock and it said five o’clock I stood up and smiled. “well mom I have to go get ready thank you for that, I’ll tell him I promise.”

I walked upstairs and I quickly rushed to my closet pulling out a miniskirt and some fishnets and a shirt that hung off my shoulder and I slipped on my pair of wooden heels and I tease my hair and spay a shit ton of hair spray in it. I put on a pink strawberry lip gloss and I put my earrings in and I looked at myself and fixed my leather mini skirt and I threw a leather jacket over it loving what I saw in the mirror. I grabbed a pink bow to match my shirt and I put it in my hair then walking downstairs. “Destiny Henderson go upstairs and change that skirt now.” I turned and looked at my mom. “Momma come on this skirt is rad and it’s the summer time mom the time to look lame ended as soon as school did.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Destiny you shouldn’t change the way you dress for some guy.” I scoffed and looked at her. “I’m not changing the way I dress for Steve I just wanted to try something new, I have a job and if I want a miniskirt that’s what I’m going to get.” There was a knock at the door and she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Enjoy you’re date we will talk about this later.” I rolled my eyes and threw open my front door and Steve tensed up and I walked out and slammed the door shut making him eye me. “Hey babe are you okay?” I shook my head and I walked down my steps. “No I’m not Steve I put on a fucking miniskirt and all of a sudden I’m a slut.” I could feel his eyes on me as I walked to his BMW and got in it. “Steve lets go.” I huffed and let down the sun visor and looked at myself in the mirror adjusting my hair.

He quickly got in and looked at me. “I mean I think you look great but the skirt is kind of short.” I looked over at him dumbfounded he noticed immediately the look on my face and he sighed then crunk up the car. “Babe you know I’m not implying you’re a slut I just think if you’re mother doesn’t like what you wear you should respect her and not wear it.” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh really? Okay well how about since you’re dad wants you to go to this high end college then you do it.” He stayed silent and regret immediately took over the anger inside me. “S-Steve I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He stayed silent for most of the car ride when we arrived at the place we went on our first date I looked at him. He softly smiled at me and got out the car, I quickly followed him.

“Steve please say something, anything I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to say that I was just upset.” I grabbed his hand and I kissed it, the kiss lingering basically begging him to say something, anything. He looked at me and kissed the side of my lip. “Destiny I’m not upset, I was hurt but I’m okay I forgive you.” I smiled up at him and kissed his lips the. I pulled away. “Good cause I don’t want you to ever leave me.” I smiled as we entered the restaurant and sat at the table. The waitress who just so happened to be nora flowers a girl who use to be Tommy H’s girlfriend back in middle school, before he even got with carol. I smirked at her when our eyes met and they widen.

“Oh my god Henderson is that you? You look different.” Steve raised an eyebrow at me and I look at him and smile. “Babe this is nora flowers from middle school she use to date Tommy before he met carol.” As soon as I said that it clicked with him. “Didn’t she say you’d never be popular?” I nodded and I looked at the menu. “I want a cheeseburger and a chocolate shake.” Steve looked at his and smiled. “I want the same but we are gonna share a shake.” I smiled at her and handed her the menus. She walks away and puts in our order and I laughed. “Steve I wasn’t going to bring that up, why did you?” He smiled at me and grabbed my hand. “Cause you’re a total babe and you are popular and everything she said you wouldn’t be.” My cheeks heated up and I hid my face.

“I love you Steve Harrington.” His face froze and then he smiled brightly at me. “I love you more destiny Henderson.” I leaned over the table and kissed his lips. We spend most of the time talking and eating until Steve decided it would be funny to put some milkshake on my nose which made me smear it on his face and he repeated the action now it sliding down my face. He wiped his face and then he wiped mine and he gasped. “Destiny you still have some on you.” I started dabbing my face with the napkin and asked where. He smiled and leaned over the table and kissed my lips. “I think I got it.” I slapped his arm and laughed. Steve you’re such a dork.” He smiled and kissed me again, when he pulled back we were both breathless. “Yeah but I’m your dork.”

*Time skip*

The next few days had been cool just relaxing not having to worry about any upside down stuff or anything really, the weekend was finally rolling around and everything was in place. Steve was coming to my house to get me any minute, I had already asked my mother two days ago if I could go to the cabin with Steve at first she said no because she thought it was just going to be him and I but I quickly had to tell her my plan and then she finally gave in. I had a weekend bag packed and I walk downstairs with it, waiting for Steve to get here I fixed myself a glass of lemonade. I had helped my mother clean up so she wouldn’t have to because I knew she had to work this weekend.

I was taking the trash out and I saw his black BMW pull onto my street making my smile brighten and I quickly throw the bag of trash into the trash can and I ran inside and got my weekend bag and before I could get back out the door my mother pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do destiny.” I laughed and nodded my head “alright mom, I’ll see next Monday.” She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said the weekend?” I looked at her and smiled. “Mom it’s the summer every day is the weekend.” She laughed and ruffled my hair. “Have fun destiny.” I smiled and hugged her again. “Will do mom see you next week.” She walked back into the kitchen while I walked out the front door and met Steve halfway in our drive way and I quickly jumped into his car.

He slowly backed out of my driveway and put his hand on my thigh. “I was surprised that you wanted to come up to my cabin all alone this week.” I smiled to myself and I looked at him. “Why were you so surprised?” He smiled and wiggles his eyebrows. “I think you know why hot stuff, just you and I in our bathing suits that’s begging for trouble.” I smirked then I felt his hand travel up my leg and I bit my lip. “Steve come on not right now you gotta focus on driving.” I groaned. “Come on babe you can expect me not to try something with you dressed like that.” I looked down at my summer dress that hugged my figure and I blushed. “I’m g-glad you like it.” It was turn to bite his lip and looked at me when we stopped at a stop sign. “You could wear a potato sack and I’d be ready to jump your bones destiny.”

I felt my cheeks heat up even more then he looks at me as he continues to drive his eyes on the road then me. “Destiny I wanna hear you sing.” I smile and I shake my head. “Oh no, no, no Steve I’m not singing I’m not any good.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh whatever you have the voice of an angel.” I smile and he opens the dashboard and pulls out the mix tape I made him and my eyes widen and I shake my head. “Steve I’m being serious I don’t wanna sing.” He slid through mix tape and placed his hand back on my thigh and the first song started. “Fine but I’m only singing this once and no other okay.” He nodded and waited for me to start singing. I started tapping my hand along to the beat of should’ve been me by Tiffany and I start singing along with the song.

the song was hard to get theoug because every so often he would slide his hand up and down my thigh, his fingers softly touched my panties and I grabbed his hand when it did. When the song was over He turned down the radio as Madonna came on so he could hear me better. We pulled onto the road his cabin was off of then we arrived at the only cabins around right near the lake and when he switched his car off he jumped out and ran over to my side and opened my door and picked me up bridal style causing me to let out a squeal, then he carried me inside. When he put me down he started kissing me hungrily. He slipped off my jacket along with his and I tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t so everyone jump out. “SURPRISE SETVE!” Everyone jumped out and yelled but then they immediately got quite because he had his hand up my dress on my ass.

Steve jumped back and put his hand on his chest and I bit my bottom lip both of our faces heating up he looked at them then at me. “What the fuck are you guys doing here?” They all looked at me and I looked down embarrassed because everyone basically seen my pink underwear. He walked over to me and put his finger under my chin and made me look up at him. “Babe what’s going on?” I bit my lip and looked him in his beautiful brown doe eyes. “W-we-well it’s your birthday so I-I wanted to do something nice for you, so I invited them u-up here for tonight.” At first his face was unreadable which made my heart drop to my feet then his beautiful smile appeared on his face.

“All this for me babe?” I nodded my head and pecked his lips. “We got cake and everything.” He smiled and looked at everyone when Dustin blurted out. “Three things one it was all destinys idea, two if I ever see you touch my sisters ass again I’ll beat your ass and three, happy birthday.” He smiled and steve joined everyone and Nancy walked over to me. “So destiny have anything special planned tonight?” She smirked and nudged me. I blushed and let out a loud laugh, we all had dinner which I cooked exceptionally well and then we had cake and ice cream. Everyone sat around the couch and gave Steve his presents and he looked up at everyone and smiled. “Ah now come on guys you didn’t have to get me anything.” Dustin up before anyone could tell Steve to shut up. “ I mean I can always take my gift back.” I smiled at Dustin and Steve opened his presents one by one everyone left with Johnathan and Nancy.

I was in the kitchen Steve was outside smoking a cigarette and I went out there and joined him “hey babe.” I smiled and took the cigarette from his mouth and too a hit from it, he smiled and started kissing my neck. “Hey babe, thanks for everything it means a lot even though I don’t really like birthdays.” I smiled and moved my neck to the side. “It was my honor birthday boy.” He chuckled against my neck and picked me up and I laughed and looked up at him wrapping my arm around his neck. “Where are we going?” He looked down at me and bit my bottom lip then pulled away making a pop noise fill my ears. “It’s a dirty surprise.” I giggle and we spent the whole night celebrating his birthday.

A/N: thank you guys for reading it my fic, I hope you guys like it. I have an angst coming out soon. Just keep an eye out. ❤️ destiny

[thehiiragiway]

chapter 85 & 86 thoughts + why i haven't been active

Before I start, let me tell ya why I'm posting this so late. Over christmas break, I almost completely lost interest in Owari. I'm not exactly sure why, but it happened. Well, I do know why, but that would be to long for this post. School keeps kicking my ass too, it ain't even funny anymore. Everyone of my classmates is either studying 24/7 to get good grades or they're drinking / vaping / smoking / doing drugs like theres no tomorrow, and both parties are rapidly losing their personalities. And I'm completely caught in the middle of this. Great school system. Well done. NOT.

Anyway, I'm back now with a ton of motivation for this blog. Buckle your seatbelts.

chapter 85:

Even though I'm not fully understanding what is going with Krul, Ashera and Noya in that flashback, Smol Krul™ is adorable and has to be protected at all costs.

Common sense is once again not a thing within the Demon Army. Why, and I can't stress this enough, ARENT YOU USING A HELICOPER OR CAR TO TRANSPORT "GUINEA PIG" YUU. Plot armor calls again.

I'm guessing, that once this life absorption barrier isn't active anymore, Guren will become (something like a) human again??? What???

At least, Shinya and the rest of Gurens Squad are kinda okay, maybe they'll rest and get backup- CAN YOU NOT? RUN AFTER GUREN AGAIN PLEASE? Shinya really has a death wish, doesnt he?

I honestly wonder what Krul is going to do, once she arrives wherever she's going.

chapter 86:

Mitsuba coming literally out of nowhere and hugging Shinoa. This is the content I signed up for. No, but in all seriousness, this is a super cute moment for them, regardless if you ship them or not.

Shinoa Squad reunion, yaay! (almost)

I have to admit, even I laughed when Yuu, after everything that went down in the last chapters, still called Guren his friend. Mika's expression was spot on too.

This whole scene with them bickering was just great. Had a good laugh. 8/10

"With all of them together, you might finally get that wish you've desperately clung to for so long" ???????? okay, we get it that everyone talks in riddles nowadays. not a fan. pls stop

"I have a reason to live. I have you, Mika." Okay, I could write an essay on, about how toxic and overall wrong this statement is, but I get what they're trying to say, so I'm skipping that. Kinda getting the same vibes as from Guren and Shinya couple chapters ago.

And because the best always comes last: wHeRe iS tHe eMoTiOnaL sUppOrt LiEuTeNanT geNeRaL

Leave your opinions in the comments as always! ;w;