#bc i was used to drawing constantly constantly constantly in class. and then i stopped having class

[codacheetah]

I remembered that drawing is fun and awesome and I'm deeply tempted to crawl out of bed and go draw something else but it's 4am

[puppyeared]

for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........

[sweetstarart]

40 Wallace Wells Headcanons!!!

He loves the band gorillaz! His current favorite songs are Dare, Dirty Harry, Rock The House and 5/4

He used to animate and draw in college but he hasn't really picked it up since then

He and Scott don't have much closet space, so they put some of their clothes in a kitchen cabinet. Scott is very scared Ramona will open it one day

When he eats burger He takes the pickles off and saves them for last. He does the same thing with shrimp pasta and also likes it most when there are 5 shrimp left over to eat. Scott thinks this is weird.

He's quite a powerful psychic, but since he's a beginner he has no idea how to utilize his powers. In the future, Old Wallace becomes one of the most powerful psychics in Toronto

Old Wallace's hair turned grey after what him and Mobile simply refer to as a "Psychic Mishap". This same mishap lead to him also needing very strong prescription glasses

He has 5 favorite colors, Green, Pink, Black, Teal and Red. If you ask which is his favorite, he'll usually cycle through 3 of those options before telling you he doesn't have a favorite

He scratches his knuckles when he gets nervous

He keeps his hands behind his back while doing this so people are less likely to notice

Sometimes he taps his fingers instead

Starting book 2, He's been taking French classes. He likes to say dumb things in French around the house that don't apply to whatever they're talking about, Scott is none the wiser

He likes turtles!

Although Wallace sometimes kicks Scott in his sleep, he can actually be fairly affectionate sometimes if he's feeling happy or lonely. Sometimes he hugs Scott in his sleep

Strangely enough, he doesn't do this to mobile until a few years into their relationship

Wallace used to have braces and acne in high-school. It is one of the very few things he's insecure about

He constantly forgets Young Neil's name and swears its either Francis or Dennis

Him and Other Scott have known eachother since they were kids but only became friends in high-school, when Wallace would stay over at his house from time to time

According to Scott and Other Scott, seeing Wallace win a drinking game is one of the most horrifying things they've ever seen

His record is 19 beers in 5 seconds

Oftentimes He wears a variety of Bracelets on his arm. His sweater usually obscures this, but they can be heard clanking together when he runs. When asked why he does this, he says he's "Matching with a friend"

His birthday is July 4th

He ran away from home during high-school, leading to him crashing at his friend's houses until he finally got an apartment

He frequently stayed with Scott, Other Scott and Roxy (until they stopped being friends towards the end of high-school)

Like the anime said, he let Scott crash at his place and he never left. At first, he figured since Scott let him stay over a week once, it only seemed fair to do the same. Soon a week turned into a month,but he couldn't bring himself to simply tell him to leave

He's somewhat of a pushover, but is too prideful to admit it (or embarrassed... who knows!)

He has tons of pride merch that he saves specifically for the month of May. Not June, because he "likes to stand out" (It's actually because when he started doing this, he got the month wrong)

He won a Ball point pen from a high-school drinking game. He calls it his most "prized possession" and he keeps it in a jewelry box alongside his bracelets

Scott is listed as "The first guy you should call if I ever get drunk and pass out bc he knows good and well he owes me a favor" on a list his frequent bartender asked him to make (Her name is Leni btw)

He and Gideon (the cat) would actually get along pretty well if they ever met

He and Gideon (the man) would not get along very well. But Wallace would find him extremely attractive in secret

He finds most of Ramona's exes attractive with the exceptions being Roxy and Kyle katayanagi

He passed his driving test while completely drunk. He woke up the next day and had no clue how to drive and couldn't even remember doing it until he found the license in the kitchen sink

He's had tons of flings, but never had an actual boyfriend until he met Mobile

He is so gay, that he litterally pukes rainbows

He thinks Stephen is hot. His only reason for not pursuing him is the fact that Scott made him promise to never make out with his friends

His favorite food is shrimp Alfredo

The reason Wallace makes bacon so often is because he bought it in bulk once as a dare from one of his friends. No clue what kind of bacon it was, but it expired a year from that day and the bottom shelf of his fridge was packed full of it for months

He always loses at rock paper scissors

He knows how to play piano

He has Hayfever

And... that's it! Except not really, I actually have way more!

But thats all I'm posting for now...

Thanks for reading!

[outsidersheadcanons]

Bro hear me out this is a bit far fetched but hear me out, Steve had two siblings, twins, one boy and one girl. But when his mom split from his dad she took the twins and left Steve there cause she couldn’t care less about him since he was an accident. His siblings were 7 and he was 6 :PP

Anyways can I hear some of your Steve hcs???

This is canon now. congratulations

and yesss ofc!!

- To start off Steve LOVES to draw. Whenever he’s bored in class or when it gets slow at the DX, he’s always scribbling smth on some spare paper with blue pen. His fav things to draw are cars and motorcycles (and sometimes sodapop 😍) and he LOVES using ads in magazines as reference pictures (he’s just like me fr).

- His favorite kinda cars are chevys (specifically corvettes and T-birds. He acts VERY normal when one stops the DX)

- He also really, really wants a motorcycle. Really bad

- The only reason why he got the stupid eagle tattoo was bc it was “badass”

- STEVE IS VERY LOUD‼️ 🗣️🗣️ he is constantly shouting and being obnoxious for no reason other than to annoy the shit out of everyone around him

- Speaking of that he is literally a menace. This guy is maybe .0001% LESS bad than Dally, but he’s constantly causing issues/having beef w/ everyone at school. Bro has been suspended more times than he can remember

- Steve’s also pretty indestructible for some reason??? He’s the kinda guy to fall from a great height and just… walk it off.

- To piggyback off of that Steve does the dumbest stuff imaginable (like one time he tried to backflip off the Curtis house’s roof, he did NOT land it. But he was alright after a few moments of laying flat on his back and screaming) it’s really a miracle he hasn’t been seriously injured or killed.

this is all i got for now ‼️

[sgt-tombstone]

remembered your "The 141's (and co.) reactions to The Wobble" post and now i'm curious about how they would react to this:

www. tumblr. com/in-mutual-weirdness/727545670822690816

link, ohhh my god I love that video, it’s one of my favorite improv dance videos

genuinely and realistically, I don’t think any of the 141 would touch anything like that with a twenty-foot pole because toxic masculinity and its associated rigidity is so embedded in military culture

BUT, because we like to have fun here, it reminds me of an au I wanted to write a while ago but never got around to (what else is new lmao) where Ghost was raised in a very strict dancing discipline (think ballet or traditional ballroom dance) where he had to always be in control and within rigid guidelines, but he got hurt in his mid-20s and had to give it up. He has a lot of trauma regarding dance, especially bc his father and dance instructor were horrifically abusive, teaching him to place all of his self-worth on his body and dancing ability, so having to stop is full of mixed emotions.

Then Price, the owner of a dance studio and one of the only people in the dance community that Ghost still trusts, reaches out about an improv dance class he’s holding. The purpose, he tells Ghost, is to spontaneously create movement, to free the body from habitual patterns. Ghost is… skeptical, to say the least. He attends, because Price asked him to, but he’s awful at it. He’s stiff and unyielding, body not used to the freedom that improv dance requires, and he’s constantly stepping on toes or running into his dance partners because they do something unexpected, something outside of the rule set that Ghost had grown up with.

Price convinces him to keep coming back—it’s something that needs practice and perseverance, he argues, but Ghost doesn’t really get better.

And then Soap joins the class.

He’s wild and reckless, full of endless, manic energy, and he’s a riot to dance with. Everyone loves to partner with him because he reacts so effortlessly, his movements fluid and dynamic. He’s a great leader, but he also knows when to be a support for his dance partner. Ghost watches him from the sidelines and hopes that he never gets picked to dance with him.

He does, of course, because the pairings are random and it was bound to happen eventually, and as soon as they meet on the studio floor, Ghost knows it’s going to be a disaster. Their styles are just too different; he’s too rigid, Soap is too fluid; he’s too slow, Soap is too fast; he’s too damaged, Soap is too innocent. It will never work.

But it does, somehow. Ghost sticks to what he knows, the strict regimented dance steps that he’d been taught, that had been drilled into his mind, and Soap… dances around him. He’s always exactly where Ghost needs him to be, adding in a flair between steps, keeping the improv fresh and spontaneous while also consistently returning to Ghost’s side, to his pace, making sure they stay in step the whole time. It’s breath-taking and awe-inspiring and the most terrifying thing that Ghost has ever seen. He’s addicted to it immediately.

Over the course of months, Soap manages to draw Ghost out of his shell, to drag Simon to the surface, and with it comes small measures of freedom. Simon starts deviating slightly, almost self-consciously, tiny little additions that would’ve ended in verbal or physical reprimands in the pst but now only earn blinding grins from Soap. They learn each other’s language without ever speaking, though they start talking a lot too. Soap hangs off of Simon like a burr, constantly chatting on the sidelines as they watch the other dancers, mindless, inane babble that Simon never really pays attention to; he loves the sound of Soap’s voice, and Soap doesn’t mind Simon’s lack of response.

They grow closer and closer, until their dances are so thick with tension that Price genuinely starts to hesitate pairing them together for dances. But he always relents because he knows what Simon has been through, had seen it happen and had been powerless to stop it, and seeing him open up like this is a gift worth all the brain bleaching in the world.

He changes his mind when he catches them in the studio’s supply closet, clothes hanging haphazardly, Simon’s broad back hiding Soap mostly from view but doing nothing to cover his own bare arse, and Price bans them from stepping foot in the studio for a week. They take it like the blessing in disguise it really is and scamper off like embarrassed teenagers, and secretly, after they’ve disappeared, Price can only smile fondly

[smalltownduck]

it's borderline criminal (/j) that, even with how popular manifestation theory is and will's powers being suspected for years to be creation-related, no one (that i could find) seems to have written a Pygmalion au for byler yet.

to (hopefully) avoid some of the unfortunate implications (re: ruby sparks my beloved) of a writer making his character come to life i mean, in order to make will the guy he is now, he had to go through so much pain and trauma, or else he wouldn't be will, not even pre-canon will in said (non-UD) au, i think i'd rather go for the 'will created the initial concept for mike but as a dnd character' route.

will, lucas and dustin (he moved in kindergarden) still became friends and got into dnd, but they're not as close as the og party; will keeps his terrible home life from them to avoid more shame or their parents not letting them hang out anymore.

one day, while brainstorming to create his own dnd character, will doodled a figure in armor: someone who could be loyal, kind and adventurous, that could actually lead a party and make their campaigns cooler than any of them could imagine. Someone they could rely on. Someone who'd inspire them. Someone who would protect them. Someone that would care enough to, against any kind of danger.

that evening, after too many striked scribbles and ripped sketchbook pages, will drew his first sketch of His Paladin -no name felt right.

he never told anyone about him, not even his mom or jonathan, who'd otherwise get to see all his drawings. he never considered playing as the character either, even though he made several character alignment charts for him (if you ever had an oc, you know how it goes) and had way more sketches of him than of will the wise. that just wouldn't feel right: his paladin wasn't him or someone he wanted to (or could ever) become. his paladin was someone separate from will, with his helmet never off, tall and always vigilant, the brightest smile even in the face of failure.

again, if you ever had an oc and you used fiction as escapism, you might imagine how close will feel to his creation, especially bc only will ever knew of his existence. his paladin was there, by his side, on bad days, on loud nights; whenever will feel down, he'd picture him joining the last campaign the party borrowed from a random booklet, cracking incredibly lame jokes and reminding everyone of what they were fighting for. it was a comforting thought to turn to. a friend far away who never failed to make him smile.

no one, not even his dad, could take him away from him. if will sometimes stared too long, with a dopey smile, at his latest drawing, it was only his business. those new budding feelings, despite everything, felt safe. his paladin wasn't real, so he was not doing anything shameful nor bad by feeling so attached to him.

cue fourth grade, his dad leaving for good, castle byers, and a new boy joining his class. a chatty, very creative boy who played dnd as well. a boy who acted too familiar and looked like someone will rarely dared to visualize without a helmet on for the sake of his own sanity.

(this version of mike would be a regular human with free will in case you were wondering.)

this concept would be more about will freaking out at the idea that he created mike, realizing that's impossible [?* and trying to reconciliate what he knows about his idealized Paladin with the real mike -a boy with as many flaws as wonderful qualities.

will constantly having to remind himself they're not the same only for mike to proudly show the party his dnd character sheet along with his notes for the big epic campaign he always wanted to write -cue will excusing himself to hide both his blush and panic.

just will constantly struggling to differentiate between 'projection' and reality. trying to get rid of his feelings towards his character so he could treat the real mike fairly, get to know him, stop himself from staring too long whenever mike showed any heroic traits, and not scare him off nor get him in trouble bc of his stupid feelings.

will could now befriend an amazing boy for real and that's all that should matter. all that would ever matter.

if it takes will years to feel comfortable drawing 'sir mike', that's between him and an unassuming stash of paper in his closet he cannot bring himself to throw away (he's still scared of the possibility of making mike dissapear)

[gabessquishytum]

Okay again for the university virgin dream accidental pregnancy au.... hes constantly horny BUT hes restraining himself bc he thinks that's how he gets multiples.... hob doesn’t.. Know how to Explain this to him.

-🔪

This is so funny omg just imagine poor Dream squirming around and Hob is trying to soothe him, asking if sex would help? Stress isn’t good for him and Hob will take such good care and make sure he doesn’t have to lift a finger.

And Dream goes all wide eyed and says something like “but… it will already be a struggle for us to raise ONE baby while we study…” and Hob is just like ????

Eventually he realises what Dream is getting at and he’s like “Babe. As far as I know you’re not actually a cat. I physically can’t put another baby in you right now, this is the one time you DONT have to worrying about accidentally conceiving.”

But they never get around having sex that day because Hob has to explain how multiples actually work, and Dream wants him to draw diagrams. It kills the mood a tiny bit.

Another anon sent this and I’m gonna include it here because the pregnant college Dream vibes are amazing. He’d be so cute with his bump and his parenting books. The poor sweetheart is still slightly confused as to how he got into this mess in the first place, but he’s so glad it happened. Hob is the most excited expectant father in the world and not in the least bit bothered about being too young or unprepared. He just knows that he and Dream are going to love the baby SO much.

Hob ends up bringing the kid with him almost everywhere (Dream’s degree is a little more hands on, whereas history classes allow Hob to make notes with one hand and soothe the baby with the other). The baby is a campus celebrity and Dream just won’t stop asking Hob about when they can get around to making another one together <3

[picckl]

i am SO curious about what horrors saffron went through-- the post you made abt your first and most recent drawing of him is so intriguing esp bc i keep seeing the progression on my timeline

(idk if you've already talked about saffron's story, so sorry if you have! and no worries about answering if it's a personal oc story you dont want to share beyond what you already have with your art!)

Oh I can go ahead and share no problem!

Back when we first started the campaign, Saffron was an archfey warlock under Titania of the summer court which is why his powers were so nature oriented. He was also a joke character who followed the “flirty asshole tiefling” archtype which lasted like 1 and a half sessions. Most of his plot in the 1st and 2nd arc was him realizing and struggling through the abuse Titania put on him, ESPECIALLY in arc 2 where she started fucking with his magic. On top of this we have the party dynamic- almost constantly falling apart and getting into disagreements once we hit end of the 1st arc. During that he was also being forced by Titania to collect info on the magic users to use against them. Finally there’s Klaus- an Owlin barbarian who Saffron feels extremely close to who kept throwing himself in danger, often times for Saffron’s sake, and refusing Saffron’s claims that he wasn’t a monster and to stop. All together a fairly rough time.

What started the spore bit was a deal he made with a nothic, who agreed to give him info on his past (he’s got amnesia due to the unknown amount of time in he spent in the feywild) in exchange for some of his magic. It almost killed him but he made it, got some fairly useless info and a black streak in his hair. Later the next day he had a lovely encounter with Titania which resulted in him getting his magic snatched for a bit and revealed their dynamic to the rest of the party (I’ve been posting this sketch from that scene a lot but I don’t think I ever put an explanation around it)

Cut forward to last session. Saffron had talked to the Mother of Rot earlier when he had accidentally caused a tree to rot, and Klaus had attacked a fellow party member due to hallucinations. I failed a wisdom saving throw and got Saffron locked in a partially Titania-induced mindset and he was headed out to talk to her, saw Klaus, and they got into quite possibly the worst argument anyone in the party has had yet. Failed another wisdom saving throw and Saffron attacked him. Titania ended the fight by burning Klaus’ back off and Klaus subsequently stabbing her, Saffron snapped out of the mindset and used his silly little rot powers to keep her from healing. Their connection was severed and the contract was broken.

To sum it up- he’s lost all his previous powers aka the thing that Titania did to remind him he’s useless without them, he’s lost the 2 people he’s every loved romantically (Titania’s hunting him for sport, Klaus hates his guts and is romancing another Owlin), his memories are starting to come back in the worst ways, he’s despised by 3/4ths of the team, one of his major character points is his fear of death and he’s got a NECROMANCY CLASS, he is under the power of yet another big magic lady bc his new ties to the unseelie court which he’s always known as evil, and, like previously stated, he’s being hunted for sport by his ex who is considered the most powerful being in the Summer Court.

He’s a bit fucked rn

[samuraisharkie]

due to Life Shit I kind of stopped drawing much about a year or two after I graduated high school bc I just kind of didn’t have the time or mental/emotional/physical capacity to fit it in, despite art being something I really want to be a part of my career. It kind of makes me sick to realize how much muscle memory I lost just from that time (I had only about a year and a half total of absolutely no art but that was enough. doesn’t help that during that time I seriously injured my hands) considering I’ve been drawing my entire life. I really wish things had not gone that way and that I could have kept going, but expectations were on me to do something else and any time I sat down to draw was treated as wasting time. There’s also something weird about recovering from severe trauma that kind of adjusts how you engage with a hobby you used as a coping mechanism, which Art very much was. I almost never drew vent art, but I used it to focus on something and make myself happy and proud of work I actually could do, and once I was out of the environments that funneled me into drawing (being forced to go to church, school, anything involving sitting down for a long period of time) I found less time to actually have an excuse. Someone bought me a single college course of art classes right out of high school, and I think that was where I COULD have had the opportunity to really get started if I had actually had the money to continue and the college hadn’t been so far away. After that course ended I didn’t have that excuse anymore. I used to draw in DeviantArt and Discord art groups, but those began to fall apart and soon I didn’t have that option either. After that I doodled but didn’t really create Full Pieces unless some friend asked it of me, and it was never a commission bc I’d never trained myself to get that sort of shit done without taking too long, so I’d always do it for free. So even that wasn’t a big motivator eventually. Now that I’m struggling for work after becoming more physically disabled after COVID, all that time I could have spent honing my art skills so I could do SOMETHING with my art really is weighting down on me. I have the option to do freelance work, illustrations, pet commissions, even things like cards and cookies. I’ve seen these avenues open up for me gradually, but I’ve lost the skills I built up that I need to actually make something I’m proud of. I’ve taken to tracing old art to try and remember my thought process and my “style”… but my memory was bad BEFORE the covid, and it’s worse now, and my brain fog makes it hard to focus even if I could get back on the train of thought. I don’t remember the construction that would be in my mind’s eye. I barely can keep a clear vision in my mind’s eye anymore, worryingly. I never had a crystal clear imagination, it was always sort of abstract, but I could see the lines, I could construct a scene. Now I have to focus hard to get any sort of detail clear in my head. It’s like if you tried to look directly into someone’s face in a dream, or put in a prompt in neural blender. So I have to adjust to performing the entire thought process physically, slowly and tediously trying to figure out what I’m imagining before I can really get started. Those old art tutorials for constructing shapes and bodies and such just aren’t coming naturally anymore so I have to dredge deep into my mind to remember which advice helped “click” the best and knowing it might not do it this second time around. It’s like if you forgot how to ride a bike. It was something natural to you, you could even get started haphazardly and distracted and still be able to tell where you were going and not fall over or trip on yourself, but now it’s like you have to focus on each step and it constantly feels like it’s taking everything you have to not crash. I’m glad I can start drawing again, but it hurts that something so huge in my life has been turned into this. I’ve ranted about it before it’s just easier to notice when you’re not sketching out people’s pets or doing super stylized doodles.

[magnolia-miraculous]

M. Dupain-Cheng (aka Ladybug) Headcanons <3

Honestly she’s just a lil clumsy dummy and I love her lol. Nothing more to say, just that.

She used to do ballet when she was little. She was in the same class as Chloé (and Adrien). She used to make fun of her for being clumsy however, and this transferred over into academic school.

She really likes tea. Jasmine’s her favorite.

She also really likes gardening; she hangs out at a garden top building she knows a lot.

I retcon that a lot of the plants she has growing on her roof are actually herbs and stuff.

Lots and lots of basil.

She knows flower language and has a few books on it.

She rlly loves candles but barely ever lights them so she’s got this huge assortment of brand new candles sitting around in her room.

Tbh she does this a lot.

She has a huge collection of stationary that she never uses. She just has to get them when she sees them.

She has gel pens and post-it’s and stickers galore. It can’t be constituted but she does.

Also doesn’t really color traditionally often; she just does a lot of sketching and drawing in pen and pencil for the most part.

On the other hand, she’s an expert at digital color.

Did y’all see the Jagged Stone album??

Her parents didn’t let her have a sewing machine until she was like 12 bc yikes automated sharp thing.

Thus, she’s rlly good at sewing by hand.

There was a long period however where nearly all of her fingers were constantly covered in bandaids bc she kept sticking herself; she could have just used thimbles but honestly they just made it rlly hard.

At one point she figured out that preliminarily putting on bandaids prevented any sort of actual hurt and she began to do so, replacing the ones that had fallen off each time she went to sew again.

She’ll stick her tongue out when she’s concentrated on drawing or will make the facial expression she’s trying to portray.

Really good at pretty much anything creative that she tries her hand at. Drawing? Great. Fashion? The best. Jewelry making? Like a pro.

She uses mascara and gets into using different colors like pink n stuff.

Eyeliner that could kill a man.

She still has all of her old stuffed animals bc she was too attached to them to give them away.

She doesn’t really listen to rap music too much but she can rap rlly rlly fast which is a surprise given how much she stutters n stuff.

She can wrap the entirety of fergalicious on request.

Both of her parents unironically listen to bring me to life by evanescence and it’s subtlely driving her insane.

She’s French, Italian, and Chinese, but is like 4% aware of her own cultures.

Like, she’s not entirely French but she has no idea what’s going on in the Italian and Chinese scenes rn?? The cultural identity crisis is real lmao.

Also she calls it “patsa”. She couldn’t pronounce it as a kid for some reason and never bothered to stop. Her parents think it’s funny.

Also also Marinette is the daughter of the best baker in Paris but she’d give an arm and a leg for Little Debbie’s cakes and Hostess snacks (like zebra cakes and cosmic brownies and cherry pies and marshmallow/cream filled crap).

She eats a lot of them as of becoming ladybug bc she can afford to tbh.

Her parents chalk it up to puberty + the runs she’s been going on lately.

Hint: the runs are to cover up how she’s actually getting as fit as she is.

Sometimes Forgets to Hide her Strength and will Pick Up people or Heavy Things.

Adrien would be embarrassed to admit that he actually liked it when Marinette Carried him once.

The class secretly shares photos of her Forgetting and Picking Up.

Also, after becoming Ladybug, for some reason, flowers and plants seem to be a lot easier to care for now.

She could forget to water her basil for a week and it’s still as big and bright as ever??

This bouquet should have wilted two weeks ago?? Cut flowers literally never last this long??

Those weren’t supposed to bloom for another two weeks?? Those weren’t supposed to bloom at all??

She’s basically her own little cell tower too. Need a better connection? Go stand by Marinette.

Flexibility is insane. Also reflexes.

If you catch her by surprise, you will be thrown.

Marinette will literally talk shit abt Chat Noir and then someone will simply agree with a lil mhm or a yeah and she’ll turn around and give dozens of counterpoints to what she was just saying two seconds ago and absolutely go for the throat and slaughter them for ever even thinking about saying anything bad about Chat Noir like that like the audacity.

She keeps all the flowers he gives her as Ladybug and presses them and puts them in this giant, heavy ahh archaic lookin book she has lying around.

Tbh even she doesn’t know where it came from but yk, flowers :)

No but actually she doesn’t question it nearly as much as she should.

Or at all. Marinette what is that thing.

We all know that she thinks of her role as Ladybug and her powers as a responsibility more so than an escape like Adrien does, but I like to think that at some point (maybe after the Santa Claws incident?), she loosens up about it and begins to understand Chat’s pov on the miraculous. Obviously, she still thinks of it as something not for personal use, but she’s more open to wandering.

Sometimes when she can’t sleep (particularly because of superhero-related stress), she’ll sneak out to find a nice place to sit and look out on the city, letting the drowned-out ambience lull her to sleep.

Sometimes on cold nights, she’ll bring a blanket or a jacket or something. She also likes bringing her sketchbook.

She’s more than once awoken to the sun on her face, on the roof of a building after accidentally dozing off and had to rush home.

We love her 💞💞 ok that’s it, bye.

[parkitaco]

any byler and will headcanons Please 🫶

ohh ily for asking this ty

some of these i’ve already posted about but:

- will likes to doodle on his assignments during class but he got in trouble for it one too many times so now mike makes sure to sit next to him in all their shared classes so that will can draw on his arm instead. they still 100% in trouble for it but neither of them care bc will is so endeared by it and mike is like “omg i get to WEAR your ART”

- elumax crumbs in this one!! lucas and will like to jokingly flirt with each other even tho lucas is dating max and el and will is dating mike and everyone gets SO pissy about it - el complains that will is always stealing her boyfriends and mike will literally shove his body in between them and act as a physical barrier to get them to stop. meanwhile dustin is just watching like. wow i hate my life. and max is the only one besides lucas and will that finds it funny

- mike steals will’s sweaters constantly and will tries to retaliate but mike’s shirts are too tight on him so mike purposely starts buying oversized sweaters and hoodies bc he likes seeing will wearing his clothes

- mike first says ‘i love you’ to will while they’re talking about something random and doesn’t even realize he said it until will smirks at him and goes “you love me, huh?” and mike starts freaking out bc he meant for it to be far more romantic and dramatic the first time he said it and then he says it without even realizing?? but will just laughs and kisses him and says “i love you too” and mike decides maybe it’s fine anyway like. it doesn’t need to be dramatic bc it’s so natural and easy and that’s why it slipped out in the first place

- will plays piano bc i said so. and mike plays guitar. mike once suggested that they switch instruments but then hopper complained that they both sounded terrible so they switched back

- jennifer hayes still won’t leave will alone. the party thinks this is hilarious. mike does not.

- will and mike only use pet names very sparingly bc a, max mocks them relentlessly if they do it in front of her, and b, they both just like the way the other person says their name?? they’re both way more gentle when they talk to each other so pet names aren’t really necessary. that being said mike calls will “baby” in a public environment at least once a week bc it makes will blush

- they get into petty arguments a lot but neither of them get truly mad over it. usually it just descends into will rolling his eyes and going “you’re so annoying” and mike immediately going into flirt mode and using cringey one-liners on him until will starts laughing at him

- obviously mike is the Jealous one, and after a while he doesn’t bother being subtle about it anymore, but sometimes mike gets hit on and will like. causes a commotion on the other side of the room or pretends to stumble and bump into them or something and half the time it’s believable enough that no one thinks anything of it but mike always knows and he teases will about it relentlessly. one time a girl tried to ask mike out and will made el light something on fire with her powers as a distraction

ummm ok i’m gonna stop there before this gets too ridiculously long but i could probably go on forever tbh. ty for the ask <33

[undercoverbastard]

Yea... I know

Everyone wordlessly glanced between one another. Derek was the only one to hold his gaze on Stiles. Not once had the boy seemed upset or fearful. He was confused when Peter first came in, anxious when they were trekking through the woods, but never upset or fearful. And Derek was hopeful that was a good sign.

“Us, my family, we’re…” Talia began, shifting a bit nervously. An introduction to the idea of werewolves never came out like this, it wasn’t shared in such a rushed fashion - even she, as alpha, was grappling a bit on how to best proceed.

“We’re werewolves,” Derek quietly finished once he realized his mother was a bit lost on how to direct the conversation.

OR: a fic that kinda got dragged out in some aspects, has no real plot points, features a semi-sorta magic!Stiles, a semi-off-brand Soulmate Thing going on, and mostly just gentle feels bc I thought we all deserved a reprieve from Depression Fests

Archive of Our Own Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42346869

“Settle down, settle down,” came the tired voice.

Derek leaned back into his seat, spreading his legs and getting as comfortable as one could in a school desk. It was his last period of the day and he was itching for it to be over. He wanted to get home and just run.

It had been one of those days. One of those days where he constantly felt on edge. One of those days where he felt like he struggled to keep his wolf at the back of his mind, constantly feeling it claw at his skin, begging to just give in and let go.

So all he could think of as Ms. Adams tiredly went through roll call was how he planned on getting home and running until the moon was high in the sky and his lungs were on the verge of collapsing. A promising afternoon, if you asked Derek.

“Alright, now that that’s out the way, let’s get down to business,” Ms. Adams said coolly, moving to sit on the edge of her desk and face her class.

“I’m sure some of you may have been warned by my other periods but I’m going to lay it all out so there’s no question. For the next three weeks, you all will be working on a partner project,” she began. And already, several people were groaning. Others seemed quite pleased at the prospect of working with friends or splitting their work, but the overall reactions were split.

“Oh come on! You all are in AP Art History! None of you had to be here and all of you knew that meant going the extra mile - I don’t want any complaints.” Ms. Adams's retort came with narrowed eyes and a sharpened tone at the end. Which, fair, AP Art History was a class only taken by those who enjoyed art, needed to bulk their GPA for college, or were in desperate need to fill their schedules (usually settling on regular art or trying to TA for a teacher was the first choice, but when those options ran thin students sought out the easiest class with the nicest teacher - enter Ms. Adams who somehow scrounged together enough students for three periods of AP Art History!).

While some students mumbled and chatted amongst themselves, Derek frowned quietly to himself and tried to focus on what his teacher said, mentally taking note of things she said and wrote on the board in between.

Overall, the assignment didn’t sound hard. The museum downtown was having an exhibit on display for the next couple of weeks centering around historic art forms which displayed a variety of different art - paintings, drawings, sculptures, 3D models - all of which talked about the beginning of art expression and how it evolved. Each major evolution offered insight into some of the most notable artists while in between those there were examples of smaller incremental developments.

Art was subjective, and as it grew, it becomes more difficult to chart a singular growth pattern. But this exhibit focused on the overall widespread evolution of artistic expression - an ideal topic for Art History. So when the exhibit happened to make a stop at Beacon Hills’ own museum for a short time, Ms. Adams couldn’t not take advantage of the opportunity.

“Okay! Simple enough, right? Nothing too terrible! And the only reason this is a three-week project is because one, that’s how long the exhibit will be here. Two, the majority of this project will have to be done outside of class for obvious reasons,” their teacher continued, “Now, here’s the part you all may hate me for - I’ll be assigning your partners.”

This properly upset the entire class, a chorus of groans and quiet pleas could be heard, all of which fell on deaf ears, of course.

“Alright, please listen for your names to be called. I will allow the rest of the period today for you all to get to know your partner, figure out a schedule of when will be best to meet, and look up the exhibit so you can get an idea of how you’d like to approach your projects!”

Derek had zoned out at this. He wasn’t all that concerned. While he had to work with someone else, they could more than likely visit the exhibit once or twice over the weekend and then figure out time after class a few days over the next couple of weeks. He was already planning out how to minimize time with whoever he was stuck with when his attention snapped back to the front.

“Thatcher and Brown… Cromwell and Langley… Hale and Stilinski…”

At this, Derek’s eyes snapped up, widening slightly. Oh god, anyone but-

“Hey, partner!” Stiles grinned, already sliding into the vacant seat next to Derek - which, huh, when did the girl next to him even move?

“Uh… hi,” Derek responded, giving a stiff nod. He could’ve dealt with anyone else. Anyone else but Stiles. The boy next to him had plagued him since the start of high school and Derek had made it his life’s mission to avoid the boy at all turns.

At first, he assumed it was just a little crush, an attraction to the pale boy with too long of limbs, too soft of lips, and beauty marks for days. But then the smell - dear god, the boy’s smell was intoxicating.

Derek had to avoid the boy to make sure he didn’t lose control. And the worst part was Derek didn’t even know why! Sure, the boy was cute, but this level of attraction was uncalled for. Thus, avoidance. Because why face your problems when you can hide from them in the locker room?

“Uh… so,” Stiles said, clearing his throat and breaking the silence which- shit, it had been quiet for too long hadn’t it? Fuck, Derek thought, already off to a bad start. “I have lacrosse practice Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. And I know basketball usually does Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, right?”

Shit, Derek closed his eyes, so after school in the library was already off the table.

“So I was thinking we could just meet up after practice one day and then hit up the museum this weekend? I don’t have any games this weekend and I don’t remember seeing any on the calendar for basketball…” Stiles began mumbling, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Uh, no… no games this weekend for me either,” Derek confirmed, his eyes now glued to the table in front of him. Maybe if he avoided Stiles’ eyes he could maintain his control… maybe.

“Great! So uh… how about Friday? We can meet up after my practice on Friday since we can go a bit later and not worry about, ya know, homework and… uh, school. And then meet up Saturday for the museum!” Stiles offered, offering Derek a small grin. He looked so eager to get Derek’s approval and even though Derek could smell the hesitancy rolling off the boy in waves, he couldn’t help but melt just a bit at his eagerness.

“Yea, yea, that sounds good,” Derek nodded. Dear lord, this is going to be a disaster…

+ . + . +

The rest of the week flew by. AP Art History continued as normal, a couple of days were split to allow for students to pair off and work out plans, project outlines, and so on, but it all seemed low-level and passed in a blur.

So when Stiles didn’t move after the last bell rang, eyebrows raised in question, Derek was at a loss. He wasn’t sure what the boy asked and was stumped by what was going on. Which must have shown.

“Your.. address? So I can come by later?” Stiles asked, a bit hesitantly. “I would offer to do it at my place but my dad’s off work tonight and he’s got this case and… yea, he hasn’t looked away from it in three days, the dining table is covered, and it’s just kind of crazy. We’d either get our heads bit off for making too much noise or we’d get no work done because my old man would try to distract himself by asking about the project and just… yea, it’d be easier to not do it at my place,” Stiles rambled, his hands splaying out and moving a bit frantically as he tried to explain himself.

Derek frowned slightly, not too keen on having Stiles at his house. His parents were already fairly hesitant about people coming over at times but Derek also couldn’t deny the bright-eyed boy next to him. Not only did it sound like his house was hectic as fuck currently but it was also the least Derek could offer after Stiles had spearheaded their entire project, laying everything out to the point all Derek had to do was get a few decent pictures and fill in the blanks.

Derek hadn’t purposefully neglected his share of the planning, but Stiles was so energetic and excited by his own ideas and Derek was never good at interjecting… or talking… in general.

“Oh, uh, yea! No, yea, that’s… fine,” Derek stammered, nodding as he grabbed a pen. “Here, this is my address.” With that, Derek quickly scribbled out his address on a blank Post-It he had inside his notebook, passing it off to Stiles.

“Awesome! So uh, 7? That okay? Practice ends at 5:30, I should shower after so you don’t have to deal with all… that! And then some cushion for drive time?” Stiles asked, a bright smile taking up his face as he confirmed.

Derek barely got a nod out before Stiles was scrambling out of his desk, giving a hurried excuse of practice and a rushed farewell before he was racing out of the classroom. And all Derek could do was sigh and tip his head back, staring at the ceiling for a minute. This project might just kill him.

+.+.+

Derek was sitting at the dining table, flicking through the outline for their project, a gallery of photos featuring the art exhibit on his laptop next to him. He was trying to plan out which pieces he wanted to get photos of and making notes of what pieces and artists they should look up later.

While Derek’s mom wasn’t too pleased with the idea of someone essentially unknown coming into their home, she gave into her motherly side after hearing about Stiles’ dad. She assured Derek it was fine and made her son promise to have him and his friend join them for dinner before working on their project.

Just before 7 o’clock, Derek could hear the tell-tale sound of crunching gravel and the grumble of a slightly too old engine approaching the house. Within a few minutes, a knock was ringing out and Derek was opening the door to see a still dripping, flushed Stiles - crooked grin widespread on his face.

“Hey, man! Sorry, it took so long, I tried to rush through a shower but Coach decided we didn’t suffer enough today and made us run suicides before leaving,” Stiles apologized, his fingers carding through his hair to try and push it into place and ring out some of the excess water. “He also had us do a ‘Bonding Excerisze’ and we had to compliment each other while doing suicides which… was harder than the suicides. Seriously, who has anything good to say about Jackson?”

Stiles grimaced and shook his head, stepping inside while he rambled. Derek couldn’t help but let his lips quirk up at the mention of Jackson. He was a piece of work, Derek couldn’t argue with that.

“It’s fine,” Derek assured, closing the door and leading Stiles inside, “And uh, I hope you don’t mind, but my mom said she wanted you to join us for dinner before we got to work.” Derek blushed ever so slightly at this, ducking his head. Stiles simply smiled and nodded his assent. “Yeah, dude, that sounds great! I can always eat.”

With that, the two boys went into the dining room, joining the rest of the Hale family as they bustled around. Derek put away his work for the time being, grabbing plates to set the table with Cora.

Soon, dinner was in full swing, Stiles seemingly melding into the chaos seamlessly. Cora and Laura had teased him about his shirt and memories of stunts in school, their dad had asked him about school and his classes, and their mom insisted on him having seconds - it was all easy and comfortable, Stiles’ laughter mixing with Derek’s family’s laughter and the conversation seemingly constant and easy going. Derek stayed mostly quiet, trying to remind himself not to lean in too close, or stare too long, forcing away his desires to just stare and gape and simmer in all that was Stiles.

Almost too soon, the activities ended, Talia - Derek’s mom - and Jonathan - Derek’s dad - were grabbing leftovers and clearing the table. “Oh, I can help with the dishes! It’s only fair since you cooked and dealt with me all night,” Stiles quickly offered, moving to stand and reach out to take the dishes from Talia, a small smile on his lips.

“You really don’t have to-” Derek quickly interjected, but Stiles waved him away.

“Nah, really, I don’t mind! I wasn’t raised by wolves, it’s the least I can do and my dad would kill me if he knew I didn’t lend a hand,” Stiles joked, moving to take the dishes to the sink. Everyone seemed to minutely freeze at his comment, eyes darting around, before awkwardly pressing forward.

However quick the pause was, it was still noticeable. An air of nerves and embarrassment came rolling off Stiles as he spluttered momentarily. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, that was rude- I was just-” Stiles stuttered out, a blush rising to his cheeks and down his neck.

Talia quickly waved it off, shaking her head. “No, no - you’re just being polite, sweetheart. And it’s appreciated. You can go ahead and rinse those off and just put them in the dishwasher,” she soothed him, smiling reassuringly. Derek couldn’t help but soften at the interaction, enjoying the compassion and love his alpha was showing Stiles. Talia’s hand gently cupped Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles’ smile seemed to be one of shock and appreciation, his eyes darting to the hand on his shoulder almost fondly.

It was almost too much for Derek. 

But of course, all good things must come to an end. And in Derek’s case, they came to a horrifyingly abrupt, painful end.

It was within a split second that the easy, playful conversation between his family and Stiles that everyone seemed to tense, senses on edge. Derek had been so wrapped up in the moment that he almost didn’t understand why the room was suddenly filled with a sense of dread, that is until he caught a whiff of his uncle. And then sight of him.

Peter Hale came barreling into the house through the back door, eyes shining gold, fangs out, claws out, and reeking of desperation and fear. Before Talia or anyone else could start to question him or harp him for coming into the house in such a state, his words were rushed out.

“It- It’s Luna, we can’t find her! We went for a run before coming back and-” Peter started, a frenzied look taking over his face. At this, everyone seemed to launch into motion.

“Where did you last see her?” Talia asked, abandoning the leftovers on the counter and already moving to step outside. Peter began explaining where they last were in the preserve before he lost sight of his daughter. Derek and the others were so caught up in the commotion and the dread of a pack member being in trouble that no one spared a second thought to Stiles who stood a bit shocked at the sink, unsure what to do.

Without another thought, Talia and Peter took off into the woods. Jonathan turned to his children, pausing for a moment before launching into directives. “Laura, go check the creek - if she fell in it could be why Peter had so much trouble finding her scent. Cora, check the end of the drive and the tree line, if Luna did get lost she would probably try to find her way out of the woods first. And Derek-” Jonathan paused, eyes bugging out slightly as he caught sight of Stiles, the gangly boy hesitantly stepping through the back door and peering at the gathered family.

“Derek, keep an eye on Stiles until your mother gets back,” Jonathan finished a bit wearily. The realization of what just hit all four of the Hales, all of their eyes snapping to Stiles instantly.

With nods and murmurs of acknowledgment, they all parted. Derek turned to Stiles, hesitant and unsure of what to say. His apprehension for the boy became 10x more intense, afraid of what the boy would say or do. To his surprise, Stiles was the first to speak - and it wasn’t at all what he thought he’d open with.

“Luna? Is that... Is that your uh, cousin or something? Should we help them?” Stiles asked hesitantly, his eyes darting around to look around the treeline, assessing the situation.

Derek looked at the boy in front of him a bit dumbly, unsure how to respond.

“Did anyone go to the cover near your driveway? I know your dad mentioned a creek, but I remember there being a couple of coves in the hill where your driveway is - there’s a small creek thing there. It would be the perfect place for someone to hide, or get swept up in,” he continued, nodding towards one end of the tree line.

All Derek could do was slowly nod, jerking his head to the side to lead Stiles to the exact place he was talking about.

In a bit of desperation to find his cousin mixed with a continuous thrum of anxiety about Stiles’ reaction, Derek darted off towards the rocky hillside with the covers. Stiles was barely keeping up, stumbling a bit as they ran over tree roots and fallen branches.

When they approached the beginning of the small creek feeding into the mouth of the first cover, Derek slowed, lifting his nose to scent the air. But it was so muddled. He could smell faint traces of all his pack members throughout the woods, he could smell the numerous scents of the animals that passed through the creek and had at one point made the coves their own home. He could smell Luna but it was so muddled and muted he couldn’t tell if it was new or fading.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Derek put a hand up, hearing a whine and a sniffle. “Wait... I think I hear Luna,” Derek mumbled. The two boys inched closer to the cove, peering in, but they saw nothing. Derek slightly deflated, but then there was another whine, a broken cry.

Moving deeper into the carved-out cove of rock, Derek tried to hone in on the sound. The rush of water around his feet and the echoing of sounds in the space made it difficult, but he realized the sound was coming from a back corner of the space, hidden behind clusters of rocks. “Luna,” Derek tentatively called.

“Der… Derek,” came a quiet, pitiful response. Luna’s voice sounded tight, her voice thin and quiet as if she was physically unable to speak any louder without falling apart. Derek darted down, kneeling in front of a small opening at the base of two rocks that leaned against the side of the cover. The rocks seemed as if they had previously been a part of the top of the cover, having fallen and covered a small hollowed-out section in the back of the cove.

Derek tried to squeeze in, his arms getting caught and refusing movement past a foot. He groaned, determined to make himself collapse into the space to get to his cousin.

“Derek, let me,” Stiles soothed, pulling gently at the larger boy’s shoulder. Derek pulled back, eyeing Stiles wearily before nodding slowly, moving away to let him in. Stiles, in all his sharp-angled, narrow-shaped glory, slid himself into the opening, shimmying his legs and hips as he squirmed half on his left arm and with his hip as he disappeared out of sight.

Derek strained to listen, making sure they both weren’t stuck now.

“Hi, Luna. I’m Stiles. Are you stuck?” 

“...ye-yes. I was chasing a- A-” the small voice quivered, on the verge of breaking apart once more.

“Hey, hey. That’s not important now. Just tell me where you’re caught,” Stiles said softly. Derek leaned into the hole, wanting desperately to get closer, to help. His nerves were off the chart knowing not only Luna was in pain and stuck but that Stiles could also now be hurt and or stuck.

“My leg. I slipped on the water. There was another hole but when I slipped I got caught and the rock was too heavy to move and I couldn't-” Luna broke off once more, a sob spilling from her lips.

“We’ll get you out in no time!” Stiles assured gently.

Derek pressed into the opening, trying to catch sight of either Stiles or Luna, but only catching glimpses of Stiles' feet, still sideways as he laid on his side in the opening. He finally backed up, trying to allow Stiles room to move if needed, but kept his eyes as tuned in as possible to the two just a few feet away.

Several minutes passed, soft cries from Luna and the shifting of rock, and gentle reassurances from Stiles were the only sounds Derek could hear. Soon after the sliding and grinding of rock was heard, Derek watched Stiles wiggle his legs back out of the entrance. Derek grabbed at his leg, gently pulling it and helping guide him out.

When Stiles appeared again, he had a small girl wrapped around his torso tightly. Luna had his arms clung around the boy’s neck, her head tucked tightly under his chin, her one leg wrapped around Stiles’ hip and stomach while the other - still bloody and cut up from the rock - stuck out as straight as possible, following the line of Stiles’ body.

Stiles had one arm tightly wrapped around the girl, the other was pinned between his side and the ground, his hand tried to prop up Luna’s hurt leg while he used his elbow and forearm to push their bodies along the floor and out the hole. Stiles had attempted to make the two of them as small as possible, making the squeeze through the opening even harder than the first time. But he did it with a level of grace Derek had never seen the younger boy possess. And sure, Stiles came out with a few scrapes of his own along his arms, hands, and cheek, but it was still one of the most graceful actions Derek witnessed of anyone.

“Got her,” Stiles breathed as he shifted to his back just outside of the opening. Luna stayed clinging to Stiles and Stiles closed his eyes for a second as he heaved in a deep breath. “Oh god, let’s get back to your house, I’m freezing,” Stiles suddenly hissed, shifting up to a proper sitting position as quickly as he could. Both the boys seemed to just now realize that the water from the creek filled up the first few inches of the cove’s floor and Stiles was now properly soaked from crawling around on the ground.

Derek helped Stiles stand and tried to remove Luna, who whimpered pitifully and only tightened her grip on the gangly boy instead. Stiles gasped gently, casting a smile towards Derek that was both apologetic and bordering on a slight grimace. “For the sake of my ribs and lungs, I think we should let her stay where she is for now, dude.”

The trio made the trek back to the house. As they came into sight, Derek caught sight of Laura and Cora who immediately latched onto the three moving towards them, running up to inspect the scene.

“Oh thank god!” Laura exclaimed, her hands gently ghosting over Luna, eyes tracing over the girl as if to confirm it was indeed her there and not another lost child from the woods. “Get them inside,” Laura ushered, pushing Stiles and Luna towards the house, eyes staying on Derek as she spoke.

Once Derek got Stiles and Luna inside and closed the door, he heard Laura’s call into the woods, her howl was quiet and subdued, not one of warning or distress but instead one of calling. Cora had disappeared down the hall, presumably to look for towels.

“Thank you,” Derek quietly whispered, his hand coming up to cup the back of Stiles’ neck, meeting the other boy’s eyes. Derek hoped the other could understand the sincerity and openness he tried to convey in that one look. The deep appreciation. Stiles simply nodded, a shiver running down his spine as he offered an awkward half-smile.

The moment was quickly broken as the back door slammed open, the rest of the Hale family spilling in. Peter Hale and his wife - Gloria Hale - zeroed in on the wet, shaking mass in Stiles’ arms. Talia, Jonathan, and Laura lingered at the sides, taking in the scene.

“Luna!” Peter croaked, lurching forward. Luna looked up from Stiles’ neck, her wide eyes filled with tears and a small sob falling from her lips. She loosely detached herself from Stiles and allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace by her father.

The next few minutes were filled with consoling and half-asked questions. Peter and Gloria checked over their child, fretting over the blood and (healing) cuts on her leg. Talia moved forward only to cup the back of Luna’s neck and offer a gentle squeeze before moving back once more, the need to comfort the girl and ensure she was okay being filled by the small action enough.

It wasn’t until Peter and Gloria finished fretting over Luna and Cora had reemerged with towels that everyone turned their attention back to Stiles. The boy smiled at them all nervously, shivering as he tightened his grip on the towel.

“We need to have a... Talk, Stiles,” Talia started, gently guiding the boy into the living room. Derek trailed closely behind, immediately grabbing the first available blanket to wrap around Stiles’ shoulders as he took a seat on a couch. Stiles threw the dark-haired boy a grateful smile as he pulled the blanket around him snuggly.

“First, we want to thank you for helping find Luna. We cannot thank you enough or repay you for your kindness,” Talia began, exhaling afterward. “Second, I think you deserve an explanation of all that happened tonight.”

Everyone wordlessly glanced between one another. Derek was the only one to hold his gaze on Stiles. Not once had the boy seemed upset or fearful. He was confused when Peter first came in, anxious when they were trekking through the woods, but never upset or fearful. And Derek was hopeful that was a good sign.

“Us, my family, we’re…” Talia began, shifting a bit nervously. An introduction to the idea of werewolves never came out like this, it wasn’t shared in such a rushed fashion - even she, as alpha, was grappling a bit on how to best proceed.

“We’re werewolves,” Derek quietly finished once he realized his mother was a bit lost on how to direct the conversation. Talia snapped her eyes at him, a moment of surprise that her son spoke up, but nodded.

Stiles shifted beside Derek, a frown gracing his features as he looked up at Derek. A confused look crossed his eyes as he gently shook his head.

“Yea… I know,” Stiles spoke slowly. At this, the boy turned his gaze to look across the others spread across the living room. “I… have known. I thought you guys realized that? I thought that’s why my 'raised by wolves' comment was taken so badly - foot-in-mouth moment and all..?”

Everyone, once again, froze up. Clearly, no one was aware of Stiles’ in on this topic.

“You.. knew?” Derek asked weakly, his brows drawing in. Stiles simply nodded, shrugging.

“I mean, your wolves are kind of a part of you. It’s hard to ignore them wrapping around you,” Stiles shrugged as if that was obvious.

“Our wolves? What… What are you talking about?” Derek asked, his eyebrows drawing further in. Nothing the amber-eyed boy was saying made a lick of sense. Had he seen them all shifted before? But he said wrapped around… that’s… that’s not right.

Derek focused his gaze to look Stiles head-on, hoping to find some sort of answer. Instead, Derek saw Stiles’ eyes - his once warm, dark amber eyes - shining a bright silver-y color that ebbed at emeralds throughout. It was like a light in the dark, a spotlight that Derek was stuck in.

“What are you?” Talia asked cautiously, causing Stiles to snap his eyes towards her and offer an apologetic smile, the light from his eyes dimming and flickering out until the warm amber irises returned once more.

“Think of me as a messenger of the woods. I’m fae - connected to the earth,” Stiles explained. At this, Luna finally lifted her head, her mouth twitching into a small smile. “He moved the rock, daddy, he moved it just by touching it,” she offered, tugging gently at Peter’s shirt. Stiles smiled at her, offering a small nod.

“And you’ve known about us all this time?” Jonathan quipped, leaning forward in curiosity

At this, Stiles laughed. “I’m connected to you - all of you. I can feel all of the supernatural here. I thought you guys knew,” Stiles nodded, “it’s why I thought you avoided me.” The last part was murmured quietly, directed at Derek.

At this Derek blushed, ducking his head down low. “Uh, no… no that’s not why,” he muttered.

“Ah, well, we should give you two some time to talk. And I’ll go find you both some new clothes, you both look like you went for an evening swim,” Talia huffed, quickly ushering the others out of the room with her. She could sense the need for a deep talk and she for one did not want to be a part of that awkward engagement (she knew her son well enough to know it would be painful to some degree).

As the others cleared out, Derek grabbed Stilles’ hand, directing him to the porch. Hopefully, his family couldn’t hear everything they said (or they would at least pretend to not hear it, he hoped).

Before Derek could begin to (painfully) explain why he had been avoiding Stiles, the other boy rushed out, “I’m sorry.” At this, Derek quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I thought you knew and I thought you were weirded out because of, uh… of the connection. But now I realize you were uncomfortable because you could just sense my uh... Attraction, to you, and since you don’t know me, that was probably really weird and-”

“Stiles… Stiles, wait - no, that’s not it,” Derek interrupted, shaking his head. “Wait, connection?” he backtracked, squinting at the other.

Stiles blushed, ducking his head. “Yea, I’m fae. And us - fae - we have these things called kindred spirits. Which, yea, I know, is a saying or whatever, but it came from us, ya know? And… essentially, it means that we recognize a part of ourselves in another. It’s not like… a soulmate thing - I mean, it could be! But it essentially is just when two people share a part of their souls - a part of themselves. It attracts us to specific people and it can… develop into different things,” Stiles licked his lips, chancing a glance at Derek before continuing. “I noticed a kindred spirit in you, and I really wanted to get that connection, ya know? To see how we- if we could fit together. But god, dude, you’re like… a greek god, Jesus Christ, you don’t even seem real. How could I not be attracted to you? And you had a kindred spirit? It was just-” Stiles exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” he said, again, quietly.

Derek slowly broke out into a grin, shaking his head. “No, don’t be. I uh, I was actually avoiding you for… similar reasons,” Derek offered. Stiles snapped his eyes up, gaping at the other boy.

“I avoided you because your scent… it was so intense. And every time I knew you were near, I had trouble controlling myself. You smell… you smell like home. Like comfort and happiness. I just wanted to wrap myself around you but we didn’t know each other so…” Derek elaborated, trailing off. He didn’t know how else to describe it, but if Stiles could bare himself so easily to Derek then it was only fair Derek offered him the same. Or, as much the same as he could muster.

At this, Stiles grinned. His hand snaked out from his bundle of towel and blanket, lacing his fingers between Derek’s. “You felt the spirit,” he murmured, “it would have felt different for you and… and you felt it.”

“Yea, I did,” Derek agreed, leaning closer to the boy.

They both sat there, staring at one another, letting silence wrap around them. The silence was comfortable, a statement of their understanding of one another and the moment they were sharing. It was oddly intense but also relaxing - a feeling Derek had never experienced.

“Can I…” Derek asked, raising a hand to Stiles’ cheek, leaning in ever so slightly more. This only got him a wide, cheeky grin. Stiles leaned in, tilting his head ever so slightly, and met Derek halfway, their lips melding together.

Derek caressed Stiles’ cheek, his other hand moving to rest between where the other boy’s hips and thigh met. Stiles allowed his hands to reach out and pull Derek closer, one hand gripping his bicep with the other curled around the side of Derek’s neck.

As the kiss deepened, lips working in tandem, tongues taking turns to trace the other’s tips, a jolt ran through each boy. Stiles felt a hum resonate throughout his body while Derek felt an overdrive in his sense. He could suddenly only smell Stiles, and everywhere the boy touched him felt numbingly hot, his heartbeat was suddenly a tempo in the back of Derek’s mind.

Once they parted, foreheads lent against each other, the hum in Stiles’ veins quieted and Derek’s haze of sensory overload dulled.

Stiles opened his eyes, an easy grin spreading across his face. “We fit together,” he mumbled, a lilt to his voice that showed just how excited he was.

“Yea, I know,” Derek responded, an easy smile making its way onto his lips as he leaned forward again, chasing another kiss from the boy in front of him.

[duskvortex]

I do not believe AI generated images can be considered art and here is why

(Images have ALT text.)

On top of this, lemme also tell you another reason why AI generated images cannot be considered art, and for that I'll have to explain what creativity is in my eyes.

My definition of creativity is "The ability to solve abstract problems." Machines aren't capable of abstract thinking, but human beings are. A machine doesn't put any thought into what it's doing, it has no understanding of intent. But human beings do.

It's really telling that a lot of people arguing against artists aren't artists themselves and thus don't get the nuances of art. For them it doesn't matter. A picture is a picture, what's the deal? But there's so much behind art, so many nuances, so many creative decisions and intents, there's so much underneath the journey. It's not about the final piece itself but the journey. There's no journey behind an AI generated image. Nothing. It's soulless. It's mass produced and incredibly cheaply so. You can see the seams where the molds met, the lacking quality of the materials, the badly applied paint, every single hallmark of a cheaply mass produced item.

"But photography killed painting/digital art killed traditional art/3D animation killed 2D animation" I have a box full of alcohol markers and other traditional art supplies, and I also own a camera as I'm an amateur photographer, AND I OWN A BUNCH OF SKETCHBOOKS AND PENCILS WHICH I USE REGULARLY DESPITE BEING A PREDOMINANTLY DIGITAL ARTIST. And guess what? Blender, a 3D modelling package, also has tools that lets you create 2D animations and blend them with 3D. And on top of that, did you forget how big the anime industry is? Y'know, the industry that produces 2D animations?

You have NO idea what you're talking about. Actually, stop speaking over artists if you're not one. Please. We provide you all this art for you to enjoy and what do we get in return? We get trampled on for seemingly no reason when we beg people to have basic respect for us. Why do you do this? Did we ever do anything to hurt you personally? Are you jealous bc we were born with some kind of a superpower and are special when we actually aren't?

No amount of inability to draw will change the fact that AI generated images aren't art. This isn't gatekeeping. I'm not physically restraining you from picking up a pencil to draw. This is fact. What you perceive as gatekeeping is artists simply defending their rights and integrity.

No, artists aren't gatekeepers. Never have been. A lot of us are more than happy when someone expresses interest in getting into art. We put out tutorials, timelapses, tips and other resources to make the learning progress less of a bumpy road. We love sharing art with each other.

The reality is, one of the biggest gatekeepers in art is nothing else but YOUR OWN mindset to approaching it. This belief that only people born with the talent can do it. You think we came out of the womb drawing the way we do? We didn't. It's a skill we're constantly practicing and improving. All of us have produced bad stuff but we kept going. We got up over and over again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Tell me, of the skills you have learned, have you ever gotten anything perfect on your first try? Was your first attempt at cooking perfect? When you learned to ride the bike did you skip the training wheels and get it perfectly? Did you get perfect grades in school? Did you skip driving classes to get a driver's license immediately? (And if you immediately counter this with "duh you need driving classes so you aren't dangerous in traffic" you missed the point, hell I'm gonna assume you missed it on PURPOSE.)

Art isn't talent. It's a skill. Artists aren't special. We're just people who kept persevering, who kept believing in ourselves, that we could one day be great, and perhaps even greater. Kill the idea it's an inherent talent. Kill it for once and for all. It has dealt an unimaginable amount of damage to society and culture.

One more thing. If visual art isn't your thing or is completely inaccessible for you but you develop a knack for writing, you can just do that. Writing is a form of art. People have written vividly beautiful descriptions of things. And if prose isn't your thing, you can simply do scriptwriting instead. It's still art. You're still telling a story. One that is deeply personal to you.

To finish this post off, here's Guillermo Del Toro's stance on AI "art". (Source.)

[roseverdict]

before i managed to land a job for long enough to afford a laptop of my own (so, when I was already 21 back when people irl actually took corona seriously) yeah a phone was the only computing device i was able to have- first bc i was a teenager and anything i wanted had to be given the parental seal of approval, then because "oh you're an adult, stop being forced to funnel your money back into your min-wage job so you can save up for a computer if you want one that badly."

and i only got a phone as a teenager because my dad wanted to be able to reach me anytime he wanted. and even then it took several years (and the fact that it would have been more expensive to keep the original phone) for him to even CONSIDER getting me a smartphone instead of a prepaid one. This was 2013-2017, btw. I had to tell nearly every damn teacher I had in high school that I couldn't participate in mandatory Kahoots unless they gave me their smartphones for the class. My slider phone got confused/befuddled looks from all of them at least once.

I had to get very good at sniffing out apps that would do what I wanted very quickly. Even now that I do have a laptop, there's still a few things I'm only able to do on my phone- drawing digitally without it looking like ass or spending more money than I have to my name on a drawing tablet, for starters.

An actual computer is definitely an improvement for just about everything, especially now that I've had to change phones and now that apps that I've always used for certain things have just stopped working the ways I need them to, but I can absolutely see how kids, teenagers, and young adults who grew up under more and more controlling parents and after the age of actual computer classes would see no other real option than phones and apps that are constantly being stripped of any non-marketable function.

this can't be true can it

[kart0]

Little update !

Heyyy everyone !!!! Just wanted to write lol

So last update I told you I was going to my psych appt but she fucking cancelled it ? And then I rescheduled and then she just fucking bailed on me and didn't even show up to her own clinic ? Anyways I got very very upset and angry bc apparently she was TRAVELLING TO FUCKIGN NEW YORK ????????????? y'all...istg I must be a fucking saint to tolerate shit like this. Maybe I'm too passive...I didn't even allow myself to get mad and tell her but anyways. I guess I just am too used to sucking things up.

Ok so she told me to lower my dosage, and now I'm like ? Hm, I don't think so. And I might have done something really stupid ?

And I do not recommend anyone to do this PLEASE DON'T, TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR ! Erhm.... I might have stopped taking my meds ? For like. A month now ?

It kinda just happened honestly... I didn't have money to buy them, and then I started to forget taking them everyday, and then I guess I just. Idk I just stopped taking them ? And I only did that because I felt ok ? Not too bad, not too good, normal actually. And I know this is such a stupid part of me but I don't really think the meds were working anyways ? And since I dont feel bad, I guess I just. Do not care ?

I don't know ? I haven't been very anxious, I haven't been depressed, my mania ended a few days ago, I feel, normal. And ok. Idk ? When I got depressed it felt really debilitating but then I suddenly became maniac and it was over very suddenly and now I feel better. The only thing tho is now my sleep schedule is FUCKED. But idk ? Nothing else tbh ?

And I do not advise anyone to do this, I am making sure to say it as many times as it takes !!!!! Please ! I am saying dumb things I am not a doctor I have not studied medicine I have no idea what's going on !!! But I do know my body, and I can tell how I feel. And for now, I feel ok.

I am currently tabling at this anime convention and it's been taking my time for many weeks now, preparing merch and stuff, and now it's finally happening and ? It's very.... Idk ? Idk ? Idk idk I forgot the word (I'm not a native English speaker btw) it's when something goes below your expectation ? The event pretty much flopped, the tables were expensive, and I didn't sell too much. Idk ? Today's the last day (thank GOD, I forgot how much of a hassle and a pain and how tiring it is) so let's see how this will go.

I am so excited for my winter break tho !!!!! Can't wait to just play games and draw fun stuff and rot. Yay ! Soon.....

Also ! Haikyuu movie is finally here in Brazil !!!!!!! YAS !!! I AM SO SO SO HYPED AND EXCITED ! I haven't gotten tickets yet ofc cuz I'm busy but soon...soon my dear...

And ? It think I might have a little infatuation with this guy on my class. He is very, and I mean, VERY, handsome, and pretty, he's so good looking, I'm embarrassed to interact with him, and I get all awkward and shy. I just forget how to behave normally ? And I try so FUCKING hard to act normal (more than usual since..I act like this all the time. It's the tism) anyways and I found out he's not actually dating anyone ? Last year I knew he had a gf (she's in my class too) and I swore they were still together, but just were very low profile. Turns out no they broke up. Ugh I just. And he makes silly jokes of me and just, acting like an annoying little shit (he's the youngest sibling) and keeps saying I'm bald and stuff like that (just cuz...I dyed my hair blond ? Idk what his thought process is) anyways so like. I can't even tell if he likes me as a person ? He also keeps saying fuck yourself constantly to me . Like. Uhm ? Idk ? I am very intimidated by him but I can't tell if it's because he's the most beautiful person I've ever seen or if it's cuz of these "jokes". At first I thought it was very mean, and I tend to take things vry literally so I tried my best to not interact with him because i didn't want him to keep saying mean things, and didn't want to ruin even more my reputation or what he thought about me, but then I realized he jokes like this with everyone ? Which, honestly, is very very stupid. Hes a little stupid. I think it's because he's a man.

Anyways, I'm just so confused. I'm trying not to think too much about it because I tend to over project and my mind spirals and I start imagining scenarios and I might get confused and convince myself I have feelings that I might not really have ? Idk... I know I'm a romantic for sure so like. I tend to imagine too much idk idk idk so I keep trying to rationalize and think straight. Like, we don't even get along that well ? I think ? I don't even know if we're even friends ? I know he knows prettier people than me. I'm not very good looking. I'm not very nice too. I'm not good at anything really, and I don't have a very good personality. I am just not good. I have a friend and she's so sweet, and her nickname is "jesus". Cuz she's just nice and hardworking, and she always tries her best. And... I won't lie. I really really like her, and I can tell you all these things are true about her. And...it makes a little. Envious. I wish people thought about me that way I wished I was naturally good, and not having to try my best and work to be normal every single day. I wished people would see how much I'm trying. I really really am trying. But it's just not a natural thing to me, I guess. I always, constantly have this feeling, that I'm always performing. Someone is always watching me. And I always have to be my best and try hard and I just. I force myself to be nicer, more considerate, more careful, more thoughtful. Because these things just don't come up to me naturally. I am not good. Sorry for the rant.

Ugh. I think I just am forcing myself to feel something, y'know ? I've always dreamed about falling in love. I don't think I've ever did. Nor will ever do. I am pretty sure I'm aroace anyways.

Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. Why are boys so stupid.

I just hope things don't turn out the way it did before, with my ex best friend. To sum up, he had feelings, I THOUGHT I had feelings too, but I just really really liked him, as a friend. As a best friend, in fact. So I ended up things and we just. Don't talk or hang out anymore. Which made me pretty upset, and made me think I might had actual feelings. Turned out I was just fucking lonely and miserable, and he was my ONE ONLY friend. Now that I've been hanging around with my uni colleagues, I don't feel that alone anymore. I made more friends ! Yay !

Also ! Happy pride month ! Happy to say that it's been some months since I came out as gender fluid, and I am so proud and never been better and as confident ( with my physical appearance) as I was before !

Ugh anyways, thanks for listening to me. As always, I will try to work on myself and become a better person every day. Thank u all !

Oh ! Ps: I've been slowly eating more ! I might fail sometimes but I've been making sure to at least go to bed with a full stomach. So I won't wake up dying and feeling miserable and in pain. So this is an improvement I believe !

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”