#but at the same time i need to let people know and also you agree like and reblog

[marzipanandminutiae]

I’ve had weirdly antagonistic and insulting housemates like that before - once had a flatmate yell at me about which hook I hung my towel on in the bathroom. Sounds like they’re being unnecessarily rude in the way they’re raising this, I’m sorry. From my experience, I wouldn’t get into litigating what counts as filthy (bc you can’t rationalise with people being irrational), but rather focus on agreeing processes that work for everyone. E.g. ‘after preparing food, wipe down surfaces with x cleaning product and do all washing up within x time’. If they keep complaining, can just return to the fact that you’re following the agreed process and you’re happy to revisit that if it’s no longer working, but they need to also extend a little grace and be okay with you not having exactly the same priorities as them. Good luck!

It's very strange because I HAVE been doing what I was told to (clearing the counter of crumbs if any fall on it, wiping up spills- which I would have done anyway -etc.). Which is why this is so blindsiding

I've started taking pictures of the kitchen before and after I use it so that mess I didn't make- what little there is -doesn't get blamed on me. Because they've apparently all decided this is MY fault specifically, since "we didn't have this issue before you came." Which seems impossible because- I cannot emphasize this enough -I AM NOT MAKING ALL OF THE "MESS." There are crumbs on the stovetop. I only use the stovetop to make rice. How, I ask, could I possibly be responsible for that? Especially because they apparently all decided that was a fine state for the stovetop to be in, or they'd have cleaned it themselves!

It's also just the lack of directness. I'm TERRIBLE at direct communication, I freely admit. But I've been letting little things slide because...you know...we have to live together, everyone has flaws, and I can easily fix things to my satisfaction myself or ignore them since it's not been anything major. And I thought either it was all good or they were doing the same, because they've been perfectly pleasant to me and not raised any issues.

But now I find that they've all been talking behind my back about how filthy I apparently am? And just...I don't know, waiting until they can call a ~house meeting~ and confront me as a united force?

(It will be their way or the highway at the house meeting, I already know from the last one- every time I tried to interject that I didn't feel something was necessary or I had a different opinion, it was just immediately shot down in tones that suggested I was being totally unreasonable. Eventually I just gave up, because compromise was clearly not on anyone's mind so much as Being Right and getting me to do what they said.)

It's just such a mess and has me in a terrible mental place because my biggest fear at any given time is that Everyone Secretly Hates Me, and. Now it seems like that's been true the whole time.

[jjscrybaby]

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (bad parents, mentions of weed, sad!reader, not written overly well bc i was sad)

this is depressing as hell i’m sorry… also very self indulgent. i’m an oversharer idc, the main reason i haven’t been posting a lot recently is because my home life isn’t going too well with my step dad, but at half 2 in the morning this is what my brain came up with to make myself feel better so enjoy

One thing the Pogues understood more than most was dysfunctional families. There was Kie, who’s parents cared more about their reputation than their daughter, John B, who’s mother had left when he was three and his dad was so invested in finding treasure it got him killed. Sarah’s family life made everyone’s heads spin, at this point it was a taboo subject that only came up once she’d had one too many cocktails, Pope was lucky to have parents that cared for him but there were still times he wasn’t happy at home.

JJ’s dad was the worst man you’d ever met, you may be biased because anyone treating your boyfriend like that would put them in your most hated book but everyone on the island could agree that Luke Maybank should never have become a father. Your family life was the same. Tragic, hurtful and heartbreaking. You and your mom used to be close, but after she met your step father things changed. She fell in love, you couldn’t blame her for that, what you could blame was the fact she’d allow a man to treat her child like a speck of dirt on his shoe. It was never physical, maybe that was why you were yet to tell JJ and the others just how badly it was effecting you; it didn’t seem necessary.

Everyday your closest friends would have to deal with the reminders of the parents they’d been stuck with. You didn’t want to be that person. The one that made it about themselves, the one that bummed everyone out.

You were trying to keep a brave face on, after the fifth argument of the week with the devil himself you’d stormed out of your house and made your way over to the Chateau. Tears brimmed your eyeline, and you knew even one joke-gone-wrong could send you into a ball on the floor. But you couldn’t stay in that house any longer, not with him and not with your spineless mother.

“There she is!” Sarah beamed as you rounded the corner of the Chateau, a strained smile on your face. You’d texted them to let them know you were coming, you felt you owed that at least.

“Hey,” you greeted, voice unnatural from the way you were holding in your tears.

JJ patted his knee, indicating for you to take a seat around the fire with the rest of them. You sat, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hi,” you murmured back, playing with a piece of his hair to try and distract yourself.

You didn’t speak much as the others carried on with their conversation, catching you up on the topic as they passed a joint around the circle. JJ offered it to you but you shook your head, you needed to have control over your body; over your mouth more like. The last thing you wanted to do was blurt out how miserable you were and ruin the atmosphere.

Slowly but surely, everyone but you and JJ retreated inside. Sarah could never handle her weed, she was already half asleep when John B picked her up to take her to bed. Kie was in one of her mellow moods, wanting to be away from everyone to think. Pope wasn’t quite as in a state as Sarah, but he’d decided he was ready for his own bed so he headed back home. That left just you and JJ, that was what you’d been dreading. If he had even an inkling something was going on, he’d be able to get it out of you. He had a way with words, especially when it came to the people he cared about.

“What made you change your mind ‘bout coming?” JJ asked, leaning back on the couch that you now sat beside him on.

“Can’t a girl miss her boyfriend?” You teased, making him smirk back at you.

“Always, baby. Just thought you and your mama were havin’ a movie night,” he explained. The topic made your jaw clench and your stomach drop. The reason for the argument tonight: you and your mom had planned to watch a movie together, something you hadn’t done in a weirdly long time, but of course your step dad had wanted to watch the tv. You’d tried to calmly explain that it was just a couple hours, all that had lead to was screaming and accusing.

“Yeah, uh, change of plans,” you croaked out, blinking rapidly to try and force the tears away.

His smirk faded as he looked at you, instantly noticing the water in your eyes and the way your smile looked like it was physically hurting your face. “Yeah? What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter. You want to go inside? I could do with a shower,” you sniffled, trying your hardest to change the subject.

“What’s going on?” JJ asked softly, hand coming up to cup your cheek. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeated.

“Clearly it does. C’mon, talk to me, please. You’re upset,” he murmured, moving closer. His other hand moved to your waist, stroking your skin softly.

You opened your eyes, the dam broke and tears began to roll down your cheeks. The worry in his eyes doubled as he saw you crying, hold on you tightening as he tried to wipe them away. “I hate it there,” you sobbed.

“Hey, hey, hate it where? Hate it where, baby?” He worried as you began to cry manically. He’d seen you cry countless times, but never like this. Never like you were in pain.

“My house. I feel like— like a stranger, like I don’t even belong there. It’s all his fault,” you admitted through your tears.

“Your step dad?” He asked quietly, connecting the dots in his head.

He’d been at your house before, he’d met your step dad, and he’d always been pleasant. But he was polite in a way that you knew it was fake, it was a show and JJ had worked that out from the first time they’d shook hands. His grip was too tight, his eyes bored even whilst he smiled. He’d always figured that it wasn’t like that for you, though. He just assumed it was an issue with him.

“He’s so mean to me,” you choked out. “I try my best, I do, I just want to get along but it’s like he’d rather die than see me as his kid.”

“Okay, alright, c’mere,” JJ coaxed, holding his arms out for you to crawl into. You didn’t need any convincing, already in his lap before his arms were fully extended. “I got you, okay? Take a breath, calm down. You’re safe, you’re alright.”

You sniffled into his shoulder, slowly but surely beginning to calm down and realise what you’d done. You’d shared. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel like the world was ending. It actually felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you could finally breathe for the first time in years.

“Should we go to bed? Hm?” He murmured, running his fingers soothingly through your hair.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly.

He stood up, lifting you with him into his arms as he kicked open the porch door and walked through the house to the spare bedroom that he called his own. He dropped you onto the bed, flicking on the lamp and closing the door. He didn’t say anything as he stripped down into his boxers and put his shirt over your head, climbing into bed beside you.

“You want to talk about it?” He asked, kissing the back of your neck.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you mumbled back, exhausted from the confession.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Is there a reason you ain’t brought this up before?”

“It’s— compared to what you and the others have been dealt in the parent region, it’s nothing. It’s stupid, really, I don’t even know why I’m so upset,” you explained. Both of you knew it wasn’t stupid, it didn’t matter what he did or didn’t do. No one deserves to feel unwanted in their own family.

“Don’t compare,” he murmured, rolling you over so you were facing him. “Just because someone’s broken their leg don’t mean your paper cut doesn’t hurt.”

You let out a tearful giggle, shaking your head at him. “That’s a stupid analogy.”

“Maybe,” he smiled back softly, happy he’d been able to see you smile even if just for a moment. “Doesn’t make it a lie. I don’t want you feelin’ like that at all, but I hate the fact you’ve been feeling it alone. And me, the Pogues, we’re your family. You’re always wanted here.”

“Thanks, JJ,” you whispered, eyes welling up once again. This time it wasn’t from the pain, it was from the fact you knew he was telling the truth.

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ll talk in the mornin’, over Kie’s blueberry pancakes,” he said, stroking your cheek. He leant forward and pressed a soft but firm kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It would always hurt that you weren’t ever going to feel whole in your own home, but at least you were lucky enough to have a second one. One that truly wanted you, no matter the circumstances.

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 09

˗ˏˋ rules ˎˊ˗

"Rules are funny things. You make them thinking they'll keep you safe, keep everything contained. But sometimes the person you're really trying to protect yourself from… is you"

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 6.5k

content: candle shop shenanigans, friend group dynamics, rules and boundaries

�� author's note ✧

OKAY FIRST OF ALL—who absolutely LOVES Yeji? Because ME. The way she clocked Jungkook within seconds and had NO filter??? Like, I'm obsessed. Mans was genuinely SHOCKED that someone told him to sit his ass down. The audacity of this woman to not immediately melt under his smirky, tattooed menace energy?? I respect her so much. A feminist icon, if you will.

And IRYA. Ughhh, my precious girlie. The way she’s just casually vibing with Jungkook? Like?? They are NOTHING alike, and yet she’s over here just mingling with him, being friendly, unbothered, meanwhile Yeji is foaming at the mouth in the background. I love that contrast so much. It’s like, she doesn’t see him as a threat, just another guy in the room, which makes Jungkook (who is used to either being hated or obsessed over) lowkey confused. You can see the gears turning in his head like “Wait. Why aren’t you scared of me. Or pissed at me. Or flirting with me.” HAHAH POOR BOY.

And let’s talk about Jimin, because HELLO, my quiet support KING. He’s not even saying much in this chapter, but he’s there, next to Y/N, just in case. That kind of silent loyalty? The “I know you can handle yourself, but if you need me, I’m already here” type of presence??? I eat that up every time. Their friend group is everything to me.

Speaking of menace behavior—Jungkook. Are we surprised? He’s so unserious about everything. I loved giving him Kuko as a contact name for Y/N because in every fic, it’s always Kook or Kookie or Koo and I just—I wanted something different. Something slightly sharp and weird. Like, why does it sound like a pet name and an insult at the same time 😭😭 It’s PERFECT for their dynamic.

And finally, Y/N. My messy, mouthy, disaster baby. She is THEE representation of someone who’s barely entered adulthood, fresh into uni, kind of immature, kind of figuring it out, but loud as hell about it. Like, I KNOW some of y’all are probably reading this chapter thinking “girl, seriously??” but THAT'S THE POINT. She’s got so much personality, she’s a walking contradiction, she’s flawed, but she’s HER. I love her for it.

I also stuffed this chapter with SO many Easter eggs. Like, the foreshadowing is right there at the end, but I know y’all aren’t catching everything yet. You’ll come back later, reread it, and be like “OH MY GOD, KIKI???” And I’ll just be sitting here like 😌✌️ I love when a plan comes together.

Anyway, here’s Chapter 9, babes. Enjoy the mess. I’m off to go prep for my therapist session because, let’s be real, I probably projected a little too hard in this one LMAO.

⋆｡°✩ read on ✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

You don't know why you agreed to go shopping with Yeji. 

She texted at ass o'clock in the morning about "needing your expert opinion," and honestly? Your sleep-deprived brain just went sure, whatever without processing the implications. You just mentioned having to buy something for Emma — her birthday's in two weeks — and it was downhill from there.

"This place smells like a Pinterest board threw up," Yeji announces as you enter the third candle store of the day. Some fancy boutique with mason jars everywhere and prices that make you want to cry. "Who names a candle Whispers of Moonlight?"

"Someone getting paid way too much," you mutter, checking the price tag. Jesus. "Forty dollars for—is this supposed to smell like grass?"

"Rich people grass." Yeji picks up another one, face scrunching. "Autumn's Last Kiss. What does that even mean? Like, trees making out?"

"Pretty sure it's just pumpkin spice trying to be fancy."

"Capitalism is wild." She moves down the aisle, combat boots squeaking against the polished floor. "Oh shit, look at this one. Midnight Jasmine's Secret Rendezvous. That's not a candle, that's a Mills & Boon novel."

You snort, trailing after her. "Speaking of reading material—"

"We are not starting a book club book chat right now."

"I'm just saying, if you actually showed up to Victorian Lit—"

"And listen to Professor Stevens cream himself over Dickens for two hours? Pass." She picks up another candle, this one in black glass. "Dark Temptation. Bet you five bucks it smells like axe body spray."

She's not wrong. You wrinkle your nose as she waves it under your face. "Why does everything 'dark' and 'masculine' smell like a frat house?"

"Because the straights are not okay." Yeji sets it back, wiping her hands on her jeans like the scent might be contagious. "What did Emma say she likes again?"

"Anything except roses." You pause at a display of seasonal scents. "Her roommate burns those generic rose ones from the dollar store. Pretty sure she's traumatized."

"Valid." Yeji's already moved on to the next shelf, picking up random ones and reading their names in increasingly dramatic voices. "Summer's Sweet Embrace. Woodland Mystery. Oh my god, Bachelor's Button? What the fuck is a bachelor's button?"

"It's a flower," you say, distracted by a actually nice-looking sage and cedar one. Still overpriced, but... "My mom used to grow them."

"Sounds fake, but okay." 

She’s quiet for a second. Then:

"What about this one?" Yeji holds up a purple candle, squinting at the label. "Lavender Dreams. Sounds pretentious as fuck."

"Put that down before you break it," you mutter, scanning the shelves. The prices are criminal. “And aren't you supposed to be in Art History right now?"

"Professor Wang's doing that thing again where he talks about his divorce for two hours." She shrugs, setting the candle back with surprising care. "I've already heard all about Karen three times this semester."

You roll your eyes, picking up a sage-scented one. And no, you're not lingering in the candle section because you love them, okay? Emma likes candles too. It's completely reasonable research for a birthday gift. Nothing to do with how your apartment could use some—

"These are boring anyway," Yeji declares, already moving on. Her attention snaps to something across the street. Barnes & Noble, its windows displaying the latest bestsellers. 

"Wanna check out some books?" she asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of her worn-out grey zip-up. The one she definitely stole from Irya's closet.

"Since when do you read?" You snort, following her out of the candle store. Because you know damn well Yeji's idea of "reading" is skimming SparkNotes twenty minutes before class.

"Woah, judging a book by its cover?" She gestures to her whole aesthetic: combat boots, ripped jeans, that stolen sweater. "Just 'cause I look like this doesn't mean I don't read."

"You told me last week that Romeo and Juliet was, and I quote, 'straight people nonsense.'"

"It is straight people nonsense." She pushes open the bookstore's door, a blast of air conditioning hitting you. "But we need books for the club."

"You mean the chat group you named 'Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club' that's basically just for rambling and complaining?" Like how you ended up here today, victim to Yeji's class-skipping schemes. "That club?"

"Yeah?" She flashes that smile that you’re starting to associate with trouble. "C'mon, I need to check if they have Pride and Prejudice."

You trail after her into Fiction & Literature, past towering shelves and that distinct bookstore smell. "Pride and—hold up. Weren't you just shitting on romance classics?"

"Yeah, and?" She's already scanning the 'A' section with laser focus. "My girl wants to read it, so we're reading it."

"You're buying it because Irya mentioned it once in the group chat."

"And?" Yeji doesn't even pretend to deny it, moving purposefully through the aisles. "My girlfriend has taste. Unlike some people who waste their time reading..." she picks up a random book, "The Art of Corporate Finance."

"That's not even—"

"Found it!" She pulls out a leather-bound edition, definitely not the cheapest version available. "Look at this fancy shit. Irya's gonna love it."

You're about to point out how whipped she is when something catches your eye. A "Now Hiring" sign at the front counter, clean white letters against dark wood. Huh. You've been meaning to look for a job, something to get you out of the apartment more. And to help your finances. too. God knows you’d rather avoid having to ask mom and daddy for more money. 

"Earth to Y/N?" Yeji waves a hand in front of your face. "You good?"

"Yeah, just..." You gesture vaguely at the sign. 

Working at a bookstore wouldn't be the worst thing. Plus, employee discount.

"Oh shit, you should totally apply." She examines the sign with newfound interest. "Then you can hook me up with discounts on all the books Irya wants."

"I haven't even—"

"Excuse me?" she calls to a passing employee, ignoring your attempt to shut her up. "My friend here wants to apply for the job opening."

You're going to kill her. Slowly. With one of these hardcover books.

But the employee's already turning around—young guy, probably another student, name tag reading 'Mark'—and you can't exactly bolt without looking insane. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Oh, yeah?" Mark brightens. "We're actually pretty desperate for people who can work weekday afternoons. You have any retail experience?"

"I—"

"She's great with books," Yeji cuts in, because apparently she's your agent now. "Like, literally will fight someone over their trash literary takes. You should hear her rant about Hemingway."

You shoot her a death glare, but... well, she's not wrong about Hemingway.

"That's actually perfect," Mark says. "We get a lot of students asking for recommendations. Here—" He heads to the counter, returning with an application form. "You can fill this out now if you want. Manager's still here."

And somehow, because the universe hates you, you end up at one of the reading tables, filling out your work history while Yeji "helps" by suggesting you list your special skills as "roasting bad authors" and "setting pretentious men straight about their Joyce opinions."

Your phone buzzes. Group chat.

6B Hell

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜? 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚗

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚆𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟻𝚝𝚑

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚗

You're about to reply that you'll grab some later when another message pops up.

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

What the actual fuck?

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚌 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 

You let out a disbelieving sound. Yeji, who's been "helping" by pointing out every minor spelling mistake in your application, peers over your shoulder.

"What's up?"

"My roommate being a jerk as usual." You know for a fact Jungkook's probably sprawled on the couch right now, doing fuck-all except maybe killing brain cells on his PlayStation. But sure, you should get the coffee.

You: 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚝 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎? 

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. That asshole.

You: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗? 

You: 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝…

You: 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎?

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽.

Something about Yoongi’s message makes you pause. That's... weird. But before you can think about it:

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 :)

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔���𝚘𝚠?

"I'm assuming he means video games," Yeji says, still reading. "Not the fun kind of grinding."

You elbow her in the ribs.

You: 𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

You: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘

You: 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎? :)

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡? ;) 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜? 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 :)

You're going to murder him. You're actually going to commit homicide, and Yoongi's going to have to find a new roommate, and you know what? He'll probably thank you.

You: 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕

You: :)

"So," Yeji says as you aggressively save his number under 'Kuko🖕🏻', "this is fun."

"I hate him so much."

"Uh-huh." She glances at your phone, where he's still sending coffee emoji spam. "You know what this means though, right?"

"That I need better roommates?"

"That you're definitely getting this job." She taps the half-completed application. "Can't spend all your time at the apartment if you're working retail hours."

She... might have a point.

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘 

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚢 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚎,𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it's the other group chat. Thank fuck.

Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club 📚

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜?

Irya 🌸: 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

Jin ☕️: 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

Jin ☕️: 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟻𝟶𝚔𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝟻.

Jin ☕️: 𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎.

Your phone keeps vibrating with notifications from the other chat. You peek at it. 

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Jesus fucking Christ.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚢/𝚗’𝚜?

Yeji 🖤: 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 

Your head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Yeji doesn't even look guilty. "You keep complaining about him, might as well know what we’re working with here."

You: 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Irya 🌸: 𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚜!! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗??

Irya 🌸: 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 

Irya 🌸: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎?

You let out a loud sigh, now considering Irya’s question. Because part of you thinks about bringing unwanted guests to the apartment, about how that could disturb the peace, especially for Yoongi.

But also? Also, Jungkook brought his friends last time. No warning, no group chat message to let you know you’d meeting random dudes in your pokemon PJs.

So he can suck it, honestly. 

You: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎

You: 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘

Jin ☕️: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙹𝚘𝚎’𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎.

Jin ☕️: 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗.

Another cascade of coffee emojis floods your notifications. You switch back to the apartment chat.

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟿𝟶% 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

You hit mute so fast you nearly crack your screen.

You: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚓𝚒

Yeji 🖤: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘 𝚗𝚘

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟻𝟶 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒𝚖 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎

Irya 🌸: 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔? 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎? 👀 

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔?!?!?! 💘

Jin ☕️: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

Jin ☕️: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢

Yeji 🖤: 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜

"So," Yeji says, watching you aggressively fill out the availability section of your application. "Should we warn your roommate about pizza night or...?"

You think about the endless coffee emojis. About how he's probably still spamming them, the notifications piling up in your muted chat.

"Nope."

She grins. "Chaos it is."

You make it to your apartment after what feels like the longest trek ever, juggling the coffee capsules bag and your dignity. And no, you didn't buy them because of him, okay? You bought them because Yoongi deserves his caffeine fix. Yoongi, who actually helped you carry boxes up flights of stairs when you moved in. Yoongi, who warns you when the hot water's acting up. Yoongi, who—unlike some people—doesn't blast music at 3AM.

"Still can't believe you actually bought them," Yeji says for the fifth time, trailing behind you up the stairs. "Like, you're really just gonna enable his bratty ass?"

"They're not for him." You dig through your bag for your keys. "I got the regular ones for Yoongi. The vanilla ones are mine."

"Uh-huh." She's got that look again. "And you got the vanilla ones because...?"

"Because I like vanilla coffee." Your keys jangle aggressively as you search. "Not everything is about him."

"I offered to spike them," she reminds everyone, way too loudly for a hallway. "Could've made it look factory-sealed and everything."

Jimin looks slightly concerned. "Do I want to know why you know how to do that?"

"Probably not," Irya says cheerfully. "But that's why I love her."

You finally locate your keys, jamming them into the lock. It sticks—because of course it does, these old-ass doors—and you have to do that weird wiggle thing to get it open. "The last thing I need is a lawsuit for attempted murder by coffee."

"It wouldn't kill him," Yeji argues. "Just, you know. Mild poisoning. Character building."

"Pretty sure that's still illegal," Jimin says.

"Only if you get caught."

The door finally gives, swinging open to reveal... nobody. The living room's empty, thank fuck. No sign of Yoongi or—more importantly—no sign of him. Maybe they're both out. Maybe you'll actually get through this pizza night without any—

"Yo, this is actually nice," Yeji says, already making herself at home on the couch. "When you said 'bros' cave' I was expecting, like, beer pong tables and stolen street signs."

"Those are in Jungkook's room," you mutter, dropping the coffee bag on the kitchen counter. Not that you've seen his room. You haven't. Obviously.

Irya's examining the vinyl collection by the TV. "These are good albums. Your roommates have taste."

"Those are Yoongi's." Probably. You're like 90% sure they're Yoongi's. You've never actually asked.

"The place is surprisingly clean," Jimin notes, still hovering politely by the door. "Need help with anything?"

"Nah, just—" You pause as something orange streaks past. "Oh, shit, wait—Griffin, no—"

Too late. Your cat roommate's already winding between Jimin's legs, purring like the attention whore he is.

"You have a cat?" Irya drops to her knees immediately. "Oh my god, he's gorgeous."

"He's not mine." You dump your bag on the counter. "He's Jungkook's emotional support menace."

"Like owner, like cat," Yeji says, watching Griffin charm his way into Jimin's arms.

"True." You roll your eyes. "Demanding, dramatic, and constantly in the way."

Griffin headbutts Jimin's shin, purring louder.

"Should I..." He looks uncertain. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, he does that." You start unpacking the coffee capsules. “He's harmless. Just attention-starved and thinks he owns the place."

"Again," Yeji says, "like owner, like cat."

"Pretty much.”

"At least the cat's cute." She stretches out on the couch, combat boots definitely leaving marks. "Makes up for the personality."

"Tragic how the genes weren't distributed evenly," you mutter, strategizing about how to arrange the coffee capsules in the cabinet. Normal ones for Yoongi, vanilla ones hidden in the back where grabby hands can't reach them.

Irya's still on the floor with Griffin, who's now rolled onto his back. "I don't know, he seems sweet."

"The cat? Yeah." You slam the cabinet open. "The owner? Walking nightmare."

"Speaking of nightmares." Jimin's still by the door, ever polite. "Should we maybe warn him we're having pizza here? Since it's his apartment too..."

You think about the forty-seven coffee emojis still sitting in your muted notifications.

"Nope."

"Absolutely not," Yeji agrees. "He can deal with it like she dealt with having his dudebro friends over last week."

Irya looks up from scratching Griffin's belly. "Oh yeah, didn't you say you ran into them in your—what was it?"

"Pokemon pajamas," you groan. "Look, they were clean, okay? And it was like, Saturday morning. Who has people over at Saturday morning?"

"Douchebags," Yeji supplies helpfully. 

You're about to agree when you hear it. A door opening down the hall. Footsteps.

Of-fucking-course.

"You bought the coffee, phoenix?"

The drawl comes from behind you, and you briefly consider whether jail time for murder would really be that bad. Jungkook's leaning against his doorframe in—are those fucking Sonic pajama pants?—looking like he just rolled out of bed. At 7PM. Because of course he did.

"Nice little reunion you got going on here, by the way." 

He yawns, running a hand through his messy hair as he saunters into the kitchen. Like this is totally fine. Like having your friends over without warning isn't exactly what he did last week with Hoseok and Taehyung—who, by the way, apparently has keys to your fucking apartment. 

You pointedly ignore him, which would work better if he wasn't literally heading straight for you. He reaches around you to rummage through the shopping bags, and you slap his hands away. 

“Get out of my stuff."

"Oh," he pulls out the vanilla capsules before you can stop him, "you actually got me the vanilla ones?"

"They're not for you." You snatch them back. "Get your hands off them."

He grabs for them again. "Pretty sure you bought them because—"

"I bought them for me." You yank them away, but he's already going for the other bag. "Oh my god, can you not—"

"So this is the pain in the ass?" Yeji's voice drips with disdain from the couch. 

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, still trying to get his hands on your shopping. "Who's Cruella de Vil over there?"

You elbow him away from the bags. "None of your—"

"Another candle?" He snatches it up, holding it over his head where you can't reach. Dick. "Seriously? After last time?"

"If you'd stop making everything smell like balls and nachos—" You jump for it, but he just stretches higher, "—I wouldn't have to buy them, Rogue."

"I don't smell like—"

"Wait," Irya interrupts, and you catch her hiding a smile behind her hand. "Phoenix?"

"Rogue?" Jimin adds quietly from his corner, looking between you back and forth.

Jungkook's smirk widens as he finally lets you grab the candle back. "Oh, she hasn't told you that story?"

"We are not discussing this again." You shove the candle in its bag. "Ever."

"Why not? It's hilarious." He's fully grinning now, leaning his hip against the counter like he owns it. "Haven't told them about how you almost set the place on fire your first week here?"

"BECAUSE YOU ENTERED THE HOUSE LIKE A FUCKING—" Your hand's fisted in his t-shirt before you can stop yourself, and he's snickering, the absolute dick. "Like a complete psychopath," you finish through gritted teeth.

"The lock sticks!" He's still laughing. "I told you, it's an old door—"

"You didn't have to shoulder it open like the SWAT team!"

"You dropped a lit match!"

"Because you scared the shit out of me!" 

"Ugh," Yeji groans. "Is he always like this?"

"Worse," you mutter, finally releasing his shirt. "Usually he's too busy being edgy in his room with his electric guitar."

Irya's definitely smirking now. Jimin looks like he wants to disappear into the wall.

"Whatever, phoenix." He makes another grab for the vanilla capsules. "Rising from the ashes of your attempted arson."

"That's not—" You smack his hand away. "That's not why you started calling me that and you know it."

"Pretty sure it is."

"Pretty sure you're full of shit."

Griffin chooses this moment to abandon Irya and wind between Jungkook's legs, the little traitor. Jungkook immediately scoops him up, and you pretend not to notice how the cat starts purring instantly.

"See?" He scratches under Griffin's chin. "G knows I'm right."

"G's a whore for attention." You start shoving the shopping bags away. "He'd side with Satan if Satan had treats."

"So that's why he likes you."

"You calling me Satan now? Wasn't it phoenix? Pick your poison, dumbass."

"Nah." He's still petting Griffin, who's practically melting in his arms. "Just saying you're both dramatic as fuck."

"Says the guy who kicked down a door over a—"

"The lock was stuck!"

"Yeah? Like your head up your ass?"

“Do you two always do this?” Irya prompts. 

"No," you mutter, yanking the coffee bag away as he tries to sneak another grab at it. "When he's not gaming like a twelve-year-old, he's—stop touching my stuff!"

"Just checking what flavor you got," he says innocently, which might work better if he wasn't actively trying to steal the vanilla capsules. "Since you bought them for me and all—"

"I will actually murder you."

"With what? Another candle?"

"Keep talking and find out."

"Children," Yeji interrupts, looking physically pained. "Can we not?"

But Jungkook's already reaching for the bag again, and you swat his hand away. "I swear to god—"

"What? I'm just being neighborly—"

"You're being a pain in the ass—"

"Aw, you noticed?"

"Hard not to when you're—" You break off as he successfully snags a vanilla capsule. "Give that back."

"Make me."

"What are you, five?"

"Says the one hoarding coffee—"

"It's my coffee—"

"Pretty sure you bought it with daddy's credit card—"

The words hit like a slap and before you can think better of it, you snarl, "Fuck you."

Your eyes widen the second it leaves your mouth because you know that look on his face, that slight quirk of his lips, the way he's already—

You slam your hand over his mouth so fast you practically punch him, fingers digging into his jaw. He makes a muffled sound of protest, but you can feel him grinning under your palm, the absolute dick.

"Don't," you hiss. "Don't you fucking dare."

He raises his eyebrows like who, me? but you can feel him trying not to laugh.

"Okay!" Jimin claps his hands together, looking slightly alarmed. "So, pizza? Anyone want to look at the menu?”

“Oooh, that sounds promising.” Jungkook says, yanking your hand away. 

"Can't you leave?" You eye him. "Go jack yourself off while you look in the mirror or something. Maybe play your fucking guitar."

"Huhhh?" He's already propping his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning over the narrow table that ‘separates’ the kitchen from the living room. "I want pizza too. Plus, your friends look nice." His smile is all teeth. "I'm sure they don't mind."

Jimin materializes next to you in the kitchen like some kind of conflict-sensing angel, pretending to be interested in the coffee maker. You know he's checking if you're okay, which would be sweet if you weren't currently fantasizing about drowning Jungkook in vanilla coffee.

"I mind," Yeji announces flatly.

"No problem!" Irya chirps at the same time.

Yeji shoots her girlfriend an exasperated look, but Irya just settles more comfortably against her side. You're going to kill both of them.

"Who's the pink pony over here?" Jungkook nods at Irya, and you see Yeji's arm tighten around her shoulders, hackles practically visible.

"Touch her and die."

"Aww, babe." Irya pats Yeji's thigh. "I'm Irya, and this little black cat over here is my girlfriend Yeji." She points across the room. "That's Jimin."

Jungkook glances back at where you're now aggressively reorganizing coffee capsules, Jimin hovering uncertainly beside you. There's something in his expression you don't like, mouth opening to say god knows what—

"And the third roommate?" Yeji cuts in.

You're about to answer but Jungkook beats you to it. "Yoongi's not here."

"Working late," you add, just to be contrary. "You know, like an actual adult with a job?"

"Unlike some people," Yeji mutters.

You snort at her commentary, and you tune out Jungkook’s comeback. Instead your eyes flicker to Jimin, who’s scrolling through his phone, probably looking at pizza options, when—

"Yo Jim, come here." Jungkook waves him over. "Let me look at the menu."

You grab Jimin's arm before he can move, linking it with yours. "I'm choosing first, wait your damn turn."

Jungkook rises from the sofa with a click of his tongue. "Come on, I just wanna—"

"Did she fucking stutter?" Yeji snaps, and Jungkook actually blinks, like he's not used to being shut down that fast.

You turn back to Jimin's phone with maybe a bit too much satisfaction. "Okay, so what are we thinking?"

"They have this new quattro formaggi that's supposed to be good." Jimin tilts the screen so you can see better. "Or the classic margherita—"

"Boring," you mutter, scrolling past. "Oh, what about the spicy one? With the—"

"The calabrese?" He zooms in on the description. "Spicy salami, fresh basil..."

"That looks good." You're actually getting hungry now. "Maybe we could—"

A shadow falls over the phone as Jungkook appears in front of you like some kind of pizza-seeking missile. He peers over both your lowered heads, close enough that you can feel the heat from his chest, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

"Have you two decided?" His breath hits your ear. "Because I—"

You're about to grab a fistful of his hair and yank him back to a respectable distance when he snatches Jimin's phone right out of his hands.

"What the fuck—" You start to reach for him, but Jimin catches your wrist.

"It's okay," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it."

Jungkook's already scrolling, completely unbothered. "Yo, what do you two want?" He nods at the couch without looking up.

"Hawaiian for me," Irya pipes up cheerfully. "Yeji wants the diavola, extra spicy."

Yeji just grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "men" and turns on the TV.

"Cool, cool." Jungkook's still scrolling. "Phoenix, you getting the calabrese?"

"None of your business."

"Just trying to make sure we don't order the same thing." He glances up with that insufferable smirk. "Unless you want to share?"

"I'd rather eat glass."

"Okay, so that's a no on sharing." He's still scrolling through Jimin's phone like he owns it. "I'm thinking meat lovers."

"Of course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're basic as fuck."

"Says the one getting—" he squints at the screen "—spicy calabrese, like some—"

"Can you two shut up for five minutes?" Yeji snaps from the couch. "Some of us are trying to hear the TV."

"My bad," Jungkook says, not sounding sorry at all. He hands Jimin's phone back—finally—and stretches. "Alright, four pizzas ordered. Now we wait."

You watch him sprawl onto the armchair—the one he keeps arguing it’s his (it’s not?)—like he belongs there, and something about it sets your teeth on edge. The casual way he's inserted himself into your evening, how he's somehow charmed Irya into actual conversation, how he keeps looking at you when he thinks you're not paying attention.

"Whatever, man." You push away from the counter, desperate to get away from his presence for at least two minutes. "I'm gonna get into my PJs, I'll be back."

You head down the hall, your skin prickling like he's watching you go. Which he's not. Obviously. You're just on edge because he's being more insufferable than usual, getting all cozy with your friends like he has any right to—

"Yo, phoenix, wait." Jungkook's voice stops you. "Remember that thing with the landlord? The, uh, maintenance form?"

"What maintenance form?"

"You mentioned to Yoongi about the lock sticking, right?" He's already moving towards you with that easy confidence that makes you want to punch him. "Super's been bitching about proper documentation. Needs your signature since it's your door."

He keeps talking as he approaches, something about liability and repair schedules, and it sounds legitimate enough that you almost miss how he's gradually crowding your space. Almost miss how each step brings him closer until—

He reaches past you, hand brushing your hip as he turns the handle. The door barely has time to click shut before Jungkook’s on you, his whole body crowding into yours, ushering you backward so fast you stumble. Almost fall.

“Jesus—”

Your balance tips, but before you can catch yourself, his hands are already on you—grabbing, steadying, possessive. A solid chest against yours, broad palms locking around your wrists before you can shove him away.

He grins down at you, smirky, flushed, pupils blown. That lazy, cocky amusement dripping from his expression like he planned this. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Relax, Phoenix.” His grip tightens, pulling your wrists just slightly apart. “You’re fine.”

And then his mouth crashes onto yours.

Hard. Messy. Zero warning, zero hesitation. Just heat and teeth and tongue, urgent like he needs to shut you up.

You match him instantly, kissing back just as fiercely, nails curling into his shirt, yanking him closer. His hair is soft under your fingers, thick and dangerous, and you tug—just the way he likes it. Just the way that always makes him groan, makes him grab.

Which he does. Both hands drop to your ass, full palms, fingers digging in like he can’t help himself. A rough squeeze that pulls a breathy sound from your throat before you can stop it.

He chuckles, low and wrecked against your lips, hips rolling slow and deliberate against yours. 

“Fuck—” Another squeeze, his voice dropping. “You get all mouthy with me, and then you act surprised when you turn me on?”

Your stomach flips.

His mouth is still moving against yours, sharp and demanding, and fuck—you’re dizzy, heat curling low and deep.

You don’t realize he’s backing you up until your spine collides with the wardrobe.

You wince. “God, fuck—”

Jungkook barely lets you finish before his teeth graze your jaw, lips dragging lower—

No.

You shove at his chest, breath coming fast. “What is your problem?”

His smirk is instant, panting slightly, lips wrecked. The fucking look in his eyes—smoky, half-lidded, shamelessly pleased with himself.

“Mm?” He tilts his head, like he didn’t just grope the hell out of you. “What?”

“You can’t—” A sharp inhale. You straighten your shirt, glare sharp enough to cut. “My friends are here.”

He blinks. Shrugs. "So?"    

"So," you bite out, "we are not doing this."    

Jungkook just looks at you, like you’re speaking a foreign language. "Doing what?"    

"Don't." You level him with a flat stare.    

His head tilts, gaze dragging over you, slow and deliberate. "I just wanted to talk."    

"Talk," you repeat, incredulous.    

"Yeah." He plants a hand on the wardrobe beside your head. Not caging you in—just existing in your space, like he belongs there. "Privately."    

Jesus fuck.    

"Nope." You press your palms to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through cotton. "Not happening."    

"Phoenix." His voice dips, lazy and smooth, like he’s humoring you. "I'll be quick."    

A disbelieving scoff. "Absolutely the fuck not."    

He laughs, quiet and amused, like this is funny to him.    

Of course it is. Of course it is.    

You shove at his chest again. "They don’t know about this, and they’re not going to know about this."    

His brows pull together, expression open, genuinely confused. "Why?"    

Oh, you could kill him.    

"Because," you grind out, "I don't need them speculating."    

"Speculating about what?"    

"About us, dumbass!"    

The words land—and then he snorts. He just, snorts. Like you just told him a funny joke he lowkey doesn’t want to laugh at. 

"Oh, fuck off," you snap.    

His grin lingers. "Nix. We fuck. That’s it. No one’s gonna think we’re picking out wedding invitations."    

You glare. "You're missing the point."    

"I really don't think I am."    

"Rogue." You exhale sharply. "I don’t want them in my business, okay?"    

He watches you for a beat, head tilted like he’s reading between the lines.    

Then he nods. Simple. Easy. "Okay."    

You blink. "Okay?"    

"Yeah?" He shrugs. "You don’t want them to know, they won’t know. It’s not that deep."    

Right. Not that deep.    

It shouldn’t be a relief—he’s only agreeing because he doesn’t care—but your shoulders still drop a fraction.    

"Good," you say.    

He hums, gaze flicking over your face, considering. "I mean, it’s not like you gotta tell them I’m your boyfriend or something. Just that we fuck sometimes. What’s wrong with that?"    

You scoff. "Everything is wrong with that, Jungkook."    

He raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"    

Like—god, where do you start?    

Like the fact that this is supposed to be contained, something that stays locked in this apartment and nowhere else. Like the fact that you need to be in control of it because if you’re not, it means it’s spiraling, and spiraling is—    

Not an option.    

He hums, considering. The vibration shivers over your skin. "Interesting."

The fuck does that mean?

You glare at him. "What?"

"Nothing." But there's a glint in his eye you don't like. Knowing. Assessing. "Just seems like you're overthinking it."

"I'm not—"

"Ashamed?" His head tilts. "Embarrassed?"

Heat crawls up your neck. "Fuck you."

"I mean." A slow drag of his gaze, head to toe and back again. "If you insist..."

Oh my god. 

Your foot connects with his shin. Hard. He grunts, flinching back. Good.

"Touch me again," you growl, "and you lose your dick."

 He holds up his hands. The picture of innocence. "Message received."

"Is it?" You cross your arms. Narrow your eyes. "Because it seems like you're having trouble understanding basic fucking boundaries."

"Nah, I get it." But there's a wicked glint in his eye, and oh, that can't be good. "No telling your friends about all the filthy things we do."

"There is no we.” You jab a finger at his chest. "No us."

A slow nod. "Right."

"I mean it, Rogue." You hold his gaze, unflinching. "This?" A sharp gesture between your bodies. "Doesn't leave this apartment."

"Mm." His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. Deliberate. Obscene. "So I shouldn't mention how you like it when I—"

Your hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his words. "Finish that sentence and die."

He grins against your palm, wholly unrepentant. Bastard.

You drop your hand. Take a step back. "I'm serious, Ry."

"Oh, I know." But there's a curl to his lips you don't trust. Not one bit.

"Do you?" You cross your arms. "Because it sounds like you're angling for a free pass to run your mouth."

"Nah." He mirrors your posture, arms folding over his chest. “Just getting a feel for the rules."

Right. Sure. "The rules are simple." You hold up a finger. "Rule one: no one knows we're fucking."

A nod. "Easy enough."

"Rule two," you continue, "if anyone asks, we're just roommates."

"Uh-huh." His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. Considering. "That all?"

Wariness prickles up your spine. "Why?"

A shrug. Too casual. "No reason."

Bullshit.

You shake your head. "Just—forget it. Are we done here?"    

Jungkook watches you for another long second.  

Then he nods. "Yeah, we're done."  

He turns, already reaching for the doorknob, when—  

"Oh." A pause. Like he just remembered something. "And just so we're clear—this isn’t exclusive, right?"  

You blink. "What?"  

He glances back, expression easy. Casual. "Like, I can fuck other people. That cool with you?"  

A laugh bursts out of you. Short. Sharp. "Why the fuck would I care?"  

His mouth twitches. "Dunno. Just making sure."  

"Well, consider it confirmed." You fold your arms. "Do whatever the fuck you want, just—"  

He lifts his brows. "Just?"  

"Don’t give me an STD." You level him with a flat look. 

He snorts. "Noted." A beat. Then, amused— "You want test results?"  

"Oh, fuck off, Rogue."  

"Just offering, Phoenix." His smirk lingers for half a second before his expression smooths out. "So, rule number three, then."

You narrow your eyes. "Rule what?"

"Rules." He gestures between you. "One: no one knows. Two: if they ask, we're just roommates." A pause. "Three: no feelings."

Something in his voice shifts, something light but pointed, like he's not saying it just for your benefit.

You scoff. "Yeah, no shit."

He nods once, satisfied. "Cool."

And then he's gone, door clicking shut behind him like the whole thing never happened.

The air in the room is suddenly too thick.  

You exhale sharply, back hitting the wardrobe, and press your palms over your face.  

God damn him.  

Not just for being an insufferable pain in your ass, but for being right. Because logically, there's no reason to keep this a secret—he's not your boyfriend, he's just your roommate who happens to fuck you sometimes. It's not a big deal. It's not anything.

But something in you rebels at the thought of anyone knowing. Of having to explain yourself, to justify your choices. You've had enough of that to last a lifetime, enough of measuring every decision against someone else's expectations. Enough of being told what you should want, what you should do, who you should be.

This thing with Jungkook? It's yours. Messy and stupid and probably a horrible idea, but it's yours. The one thing in your life that nobody gets to have an opinion about, that nobody gets to control but you. 

And maybe that's fucked up. Maybe normal people don't feel this desperate need to keep parts of themselves hidden, to maintain this iron grip on every aspect of their lives. Maybe they don't lie awake at night planning escape routes from their own decisions.

But you've never been very good at normal, have you?

You straighten, smooth your shirt, school your face into something neutral.  

Then you open the door, step back into the living room, and pretend like your world isn’t tilting.

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist ✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[ariaste]

From Julian Amaniou to Anonymous, greetings and solidarity.

Living in times like these can feel very hard. As someone who has also felt the frustrations of standing up against oppression, I deeply empathize.

1. Sift out sensationalism and fearmongering. The first commandment of my religion is, “Go and find out.” Some believe that means we must intake ALL information. But that belief is predicated on the assumption that everything you might intake is reliable. It is not. True knowledge is made of facts, & facts are usually rather staid and dull. Be a skeptic: Question everything you hear about. Check your sources, & check theirs too. Read beyond the headlines. Develop strong critical thinking, & identify propaganda for what it is, EVEN IF IT’S COMING FROM THE PEOPLE WHO AGREE WITH YOU.

Going to protests is great, but you’re right—it often doesn’t nourish the spirit the way that seeing a direct, immediate result does. Perhaps it’s time to think smaller. Find problems that YOU can touch with YOUR hands. For example, volunteering at a soup kitchen, a clean-up for a local river or park, or with an adult literacy program (in my experience, there’s little in this world more fulfilling than the pride of seeing your student’s progress). If you can’t find one, organize! It sounds complicated, but it isn’t really. Think about things you LIKE to do, find something that needs that love, & give it your love. Invite a couple friends. Put up flyers to let strangers know what you’re doing so they can show up too. You don’t need to help in exactly the same way as everyone else. YOUR way of helping is worthy & worthwhile, and it all makes the world a little better.

There are no Chosen Ones in the resistance. There is no climactic orchestral music at the moment the revolution prevails. You can’t save the world. But you can hand someone hungry a plate of food, clean up a park, or teach someone what you know.

Bread and roses, Julian

***

(Are you a fan of my books? Do you have a burning question and you’ve always wanted to ask a fictional character for advice? Send in your question via the “Dear Blorbo” Advice Column submission form! :) All questions welcome.)

[covenofagatha]

argh i miss you miss covenofagatha! it's been torturous and i hope you've been doing well ☺️ I've been so very busy (and i also started playing valorant again which means i spend most of my time raging at incompetence not only at work/school but in my down time as well) so i once again apologise for not filling your inbox with asks...

so, from my experience cooped up at the table with my headphones on, here are two brainworms for us to mull over :

-secretary!reader who teases jennifer barkley in meetings, wearing no panties under your skirt. she sees you stain the fabric of the cushioned chair with your leaking arousal, and has to try her damn best to ignore the growing arousal and sheer possessiveness that overwhelms her. she's sitting opposite you, and the only one in the room with a clear view of your glistening cunt, but god it pisses her off to know that any one of the other people in the room could see her pet at the right angle. obviously, she has to teach you a lesson about who you belong to, and more importantly, how not to be a dirty whore while she's at her very important work. the moment everyone else files out, she bends you over her lap and spanks, with you whining miserably as she pauses every few spanks to lean down and give your cunt little kitten licks just to tease you back. she makes you grind your wet cunt on the same rough chair you stained at the beginning of the meeting, making you rut against it knowing fully well you won't be able to cum at all unless she does something.

-g!p gamer reader with brat! agatha who gets awfully needy while you're gaming on call with your friends, who crawls over and works herself up just while staring at you play. it doesn't matter if it's minecraft or overwatch or stardew valley etc, she just riles herself up at the look of you so focused against the table, laser focused on the screen, and the way your hands look (and most of all, how they look inside her). to satiate herself, she moves to straddle you, arms wrapping around you. you don't think much of it, letting her settle in on her own, though you plant soft kisses on her skin every so often just for her to know how much you love her. (you also decide to lock in on the game so you can impress her, even if her back is facing the monitor.)

unfortunately for you, she gets more riled up than anything, and you don't spare her a glance when she slides from your grasp and down on her knees in front of you, licking her lips as she eyes your clothed crotch needily. you're in the middle of fighting an enemy, and she's upset you don't even look at her. obviously, she has to do something about you getting so invested in your game that you've forgotten about what truly matters (her). she pulls your boxers down and you gasp, jerking involuntarily and losing. your friends call you out for your fumble and you have to come up with a half hearted excuse, caught between maintaining composure and also letting her keep going. she revels in every stutter, every squeak, every warning you give her that gets weaker and weaker each time. she loves pushing your buttons (and, well, sucking them) so it's no surprise when the moment you hit the disconnect button on discord, you're done. your fingers clasp around her throat roughly, just to guide her out of the cramped gap under your desk, and she groans at the gentle pressure alone. you command her to "suck." and she obliges readily, and she's so damn wet at how you treat her like a toy, and you're hard at how pliant she gets once she's past her brattiness. she cums when you shoot your load in her mouth, and you're in awe of just how fucking desperate she is that she came just from sucking you off. she looks at you with the prettiest little eyes, and something ignites in you, telling you that you need to fuck her till the brat's eyes roll back into her head.

-

also, i agree on the dryhumping (so so hot) and casual dominance (also so hot), i think if you wrote it I'd probably get wet on the spot (though i do already). seeing the kitten and puppy anons get so needy in your asks are also adorable haha.

I'd like to check if you'd mind if i sent asks that were... well.... not horny. aka : would you still love me if i wasn't a brainworm™ LMFAOO, sometimes I'd just like to chat with you dear 💜.

perfectly fine if you don't want to, because trust me, i have plenty of horny to share withthe class. (very very much looking forward to hogwarts prof agatha, by the way.) hope you're doing alright!

-lots of love, worm anon 😆

Ahhhh omg worm anon I missed you too

I NEED to write more Jen Barkley (also had someone mention g!p Jen and YES)

I did not know brat!Agatha could be so hot but like something about muscular, gamer g!p reader and bratty bottom Agatha is really doing something to me

And as much as I love and look forward to your horny asks, I would be delighted to just chat!

Hope you're having a good night or whatever time it is for you 💜

[keelt9]

Episode 2

Masterlist / OP-2

The “small” dinner is everything less small, a couple of tables in the fountain garden as strange people along familiar faces walk around with drinks and eating appetizers. 

Ford and I stand in the entrance trying to process the anger, he extends his arm for I can grab it, looking into each other's eyes, we know it, let’s the show begin.

As we walk we say hi to family friends and small investors mom and dad had, all happy to see us.

“The little kids running around here now, two grown up adults.” We heard it said. 

Aunt Gina approaches with a glass on her hand. “Dressed in black.” 

Ford answers with his charming smile. “Going appropriate to the occasion.” People around us giggled as they split leaving aunt Gina and us. 

“Have you…” My question left in the air when we heard the raising voice of our father.

“HERE THEY ARE!” Ford and I grab Aunt Gina's arms with big pleading eyes.

“Please, don’t, don’t make us go there.” Aunt Gina laughs but turns us around, she’s sending us there. 

As we turn around we see mom and dad fancy dress surrounder for an amount of expensive suits smiling and asking us to come with their hands, one more turn around for a last begging but Aunt Gina is already talking with other people. 

We see each other, it’s not the way out. 

As we walk to the fancy people I bet both of us feel our disagreement increase in every step, also as we do it, I recognize a familiar face. 

“Ladies and gentlemans, our lovely twins.” Dad said with the normal proud smile on his face, grabbing mom's hand.

The honey boy.

“We heard a lot about you.” A man said with a drink in his hand, Zak Brown, the director of McLaren. “It’s a pleasure.”

Ford smirks as we shake hands with every person there, even with the honey boy.

“I bet you already know our drivers, we made an effort for them to be here.” The ego in every word, like this will be the hardest task to do; even when they search our father first, it makes Ford blood boil.

“We don’t actually, F1, is very far off our radar.” Ford spits back full straight holding my arm. “After all, you looked for our father first, still we keep wondering, why?”

“We can call it mutual.” Zak replied but he just kept hitting a hard wall, called Ford Esco.

“You can do it.” Ford smiles at me as I wink at him.

“We call it, for what it is.” I replay smiling at them. Mom smirks as dad just shakes his head, he knows the risk of it.

“Either way, it’s a pleasure.” Our political smiles are easily distinguishable from the way our parents look at us.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT, THEY HERE!” Mom giggles seeing at our backs. “THE ESCO TWINS!”

Raising his voice with a glass on his hand, Timothe, the only son of aunt Gina appears among the crowd wearing a fancy suit, a black one too. 

“If you excuse us.” Ford said as we turned around with a genuinely smile finding Tim on the way.

Tim hugs tight Ford, patting laud his back, then he tilts his head opening his arms, softly hugs me. “Mom said you need a hand to get out of there.” He whispered to me.

“Our savior.” I said as he nodded and raised his glass.

In our childhood we spent every weekend together, as we grew up and we went to college, our meetings became erratic; until that point, we see each other every Christmas and New Year, still being together is always a balm for the heart.

The rest of the dinner passed really smoothly, we kept far away but enjoyed the company of Tim and aunt Gina, by the time the toast came we thought we were mentally prepared.

With an awful speech about working like a team and all the things you need to say when you’re about to start a new business, set the beginning of the new alliance between McLaren and Altamira Cacao.

We hear and see people clap loudly when we barely can raise our hands, aunt Gina grabs Ford's hands for clapping and Tim grabs mine and does the same.

“I’ll keep an eye on them, don’t worry.” Tim said as we raised our glasses. “Otherwise, grandpas would want to rise from their graves.” 

I can’t agree more with that. 

After all the protocol ends, finally the “party” begins, people start to drink more freely. You can notice the ups and downs of the waitress and the loud laughs and cheerful conversation.

Ford and Tim quickly were pulled away by a couple of girls, after all they had that special charm that made them blush and giggle as fights for acting cool. 

I keep observing everything from the fountain, the school uniforms now are suits and dresses but the scene is the same as years ago.

“Do you mind if I stand here?” The honey boy said with a drink on his hand. 

The fountain is a proper distance from the talkings and the soft music from the violins. 

I shake my head barely looking at him, entertained for the way Ford purely laughs and the girl's face turns red. 

“You’re genuinely almost identical.” He said observing Ford too. “I mean, we heard that you’re identical but I thought it’s just something you say after you know people for so long but you are.”

“That’s why we’re twins.” I narrow my eyes. “Boy.” I point to Ford. “Girl.” I point at me. “But twins.”

The honey boy smirks. “You’re pretty though.” He said in the most random way causing me to scoff and he looked at me. “I mean, please don’t offend but you are.”

“You had a peculiar way of giving compliments.” I smile softly at him. “Am, no, I’m not offended. I would if you said my brother is prettier than me.”

He laughs as his head turns around. 

“I’m Oscar.” He extends his hand. “Oscar Piastri.”

I take his hand shaking it. “Y/N Esco.” 

“I want to introduce myself properly without the tense atmosphere around there.” He said let my hand go. “I think we're not your favorite partnership.”

Taking a sip of my drink I nod. “Long story, nothing against you, I mean, you'll drown here too.” 

He opened and closed his mouth moving his eyes around the place. “It’s ok, for the way my horse acts around you, I bet you’re a good one…of the few.”

My smile came automatically when he saw me with a soft one, a genuine one.

Our small talk was interrupted by Nanny who said a few of the guests were already leaving and wanted to say goodbye to Ford and I.

“Well, I have to go.” I stand feeling that sharp at my back making me scrunch my nose. “Keep having a good night Oscar.”

He nods with his head tilted but a concerned eyes.

The rest of the night I barely saw him among the crowd; by noon, Tim came with an idea, what about a bonfire like we were kids, runaway for this dinner. Ford and I didn't  need to think for more than one second.

We run away from the dinner and spend the night until the sunrise on the horizon, seeing how the bonfire extinguishes wearing our pjs and eating an insane amount of cookies, marshmallows and chocolate of course.

Around 6 am, we go back to the house; Ford and I right back to our rooms and Tim with aunt Gina, they will come back for dinner when all these people leave and before we do too to college and he to his work.

I woke up to the increasing mumbles outside of the house, with eyes barely open I went down to the kitchen where like usual Nanny is sitting reading a book.

“Morning.” I saw Nanny pointing to the table next to the window. “What?”

I jump, seeing Oscar sit having breakfast, looking at Nanny back. 

“He was left behind.” She said avoiding more questions. “Your parents took the few people that are still here, to downtown, this young boy and you were still sleeping.”

“Where is Ford?” Nanny giggles as she stands for serving my breakfast.

“He came down for water at the wrong time.” I walk slowly to the other side of the table. “Thankfully Mr. Viestro appears at the right time and asks him if he could go with him.”

That means Ford will be out all day. Mr. Viestro, he’s a friend for the family, he grew vanilla; with Ford in his last semesters of Agricultural Engineering he loved to spend the day there, hearing and walking around the place.

“He said if you want to go, call him and he will come to pick you.” Nanny said putting my plate and my juice in front of me.

Oscar seems so immersed in his phone, probably he ignores us all the time, so I actually consider…

“Please don’t worry about me, I’ll be in the living room, reading, if you don’t mind.” He feels our eyes on him but he doesn't lift his.

Nanny raises her shoulders and walks away, just in the moment Kaila enters, running her cap on and her boots too. 

“NANNY! Can you prepare me a huge sandwich?” Kaila didn't notice I’m there. “Dad will let me ride again. I don't want to be hungry and Vanilla must be hungry too.”

I giggle making her turn around. “I’m afraid Rachel won’t let you feed her with a sandwich.” 

Kaila smiles running at me as Nanny starts to prepare a small sandwich. “Why not? It has grains, vegetables, ham, and cheese.” 

I grabbed her face. “That’s good for you.” I wink at her. “A horse needs other things.” 

Kaia clicks her tongue. “Ok, Nanny, please a simple one.” 

Nanny nods, already in the last touch of her sandwich. “Hey! Honey boy.” 

Kaila makes me choke with my juice, as she extends her hand for a high five Oscar. “Y/N called you yesterday like that.”

“Kaila!” I said, trying to breathe again.

She downplayed importance. “I see you find a way to come here.” Oscar high five with her. “I’m Kaila, the pupil of Y/N.”

“Oscar.” He saw me before continuing. “The honey boy.”

I want to go with Ford, so bad.

Nanny saved me. “Ok, little pupil, let’s go. Sandwich ready.” Nanny gives her sandwich as she extends her hand for Kaila grabs it. “I’ll go with you, or else you'll let the big kids go out before Rachel ends her routine.”

Kaila already did it a couple of times, she cheated one of the boys in charge of the horse so he takes one of them to the arena where she keeps observing to the other side of the fence as she tells them about her day.

“Do you need anything else?” Nanny asked, grabbing my shoulder. Suggesting a way to erase the last minutes it’s foolish.

Still I just barely shake my head as my eyes go down to my plate.

“Everything is fine, thanks.” Oscar said standing. “I’ll be in the living room.”

Nanny and Kaila leave as he’s about to, but my mouth speaks before my brain processes my words. 

“Oscar, have you ever ridden a horse?” I hit my forehead mentally, I feel bad for him being locked in a living room with so many things to see around this place.

He turns around, hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. “No.”

“Do you want to?” I lifted my eyes ready to find a mocking expression, instead I found a soft smirk.

An hour later with my head clear due the breakfast and a bath I regret my words as I wait for him in my dad's office, next to the living room, spinning around his chair.

“I could leave him with the boys.” I whisper to myself. “That’s so rude.” I answer myself. 

I hide my face in my hands. “Damn it.”

The soft knock on the door before it opens let me know Oscar is there. I turn around to find him ready to go.

“Ready.” He said with a spark of excitement in his voice, definitely it would be rude to let him go alone.

We walked the same path that Bill guided him, the silence broke as we entered the stables where people are cleaning each one of them.

“It’s huge.” Oscar said as he observed each one of them. “I mean they seem huge but now it's absolutely huge.”

“Well, a horse must be there comfy and free, it must be huge.” I said waving my hand to the people who were cleaning the stables. “Have you ever been with a horse?”

“Of course.” He answers looking back as we walk outside of the stables. “Yesterday.”

I chuckle at the fact that is actually true. “I mean, yeah, but besides yesterday.”

“Oh, no, never.” We passed the arena, and we could start to see the green field. 

He observed carefully the open field surrounded by big trees with people walking around making sure the horses are fine but giving it their space. Next to the big tree, Marcus, James and Rachel are observing, Kaila just sits over Vanilla as she grabs the rein with a big smile on her face.

“Oh my.” Oscar lost the air in every word. “This is…”

“Beautiful.” I said as I stood next to him, he’s observing all around. 

“That is quite short.” He said looking at me with a smile. “Asthonign.” 

I smile at him. “Let’s go, Marcus and James will help you.”

“Wait, you don’t ride one?” I stop feeling my skin crawl but I get myself together without seeing him.

“I… I’m…I…” Oscar laid his hand over my shoulder so I could see him. I bet he noticed how it affects such a simple question.

“You want me to be the focus of the attention, I got it.” The moment my eyes meet his, he winks at me, strangely calming me.

The first one who saw me was Nebula, the oldest of our mare, gray with soft touches of black, 21 years old expressed in how calmly she approaches us with big eyes as she lends her head for me to extend my hand and she can touch it with her mouth.

“Holy!” The first impression didn’t change. Oscar exclaimed, jumping backwards, making me giggle. 

“Oscar met the oldest of all, Nebula.” Oscar mumbles a word of affirmation but he keeps his distance. “You know if you want to ride one, you must be close to one.” 

I grab his hand and extend his palm. “Just stay still.” Nebula carefully smelling him before leaning his mouth on his hand. 

“Hi Nebula.” He relaxes every second, Nebula walks away, letting know all the horses we’re here.

One by one approaches as I introduce them, but Pharaon keeps his distance just walking closer when Azabache comes to us. 

“He didn’t like me at all, huh?” Oscar mentioned after Azabache ran with his father. 

“I guess you must win him, gradually.” Oscar nods like he’s in the middle of a race with a goal to reach. 

“Now I see why there is so much fuss.” James approchs us. “James.” He extends his hand to Oscar. 

“Oscar.” He shook his hand, observing all the horses.

“He comes to ride one.” I keep thinking. “Well, I hope he does.”

James nods with a smile. “Right, I’ll go for…”

I observed around, taking my time with each one of them. Pharaon and Azabache are out of the list for sure, Nebula and Koa seem comfortable around him. 

“You choose between Nebula and Koa.” I said, extending my hand.

“What?” James chuckles, as Oscar observes the two horses. “Any suggestions?”

This time I genuinely laughed. “We just did, anyone you choose, you’ll be fine.”

He took a couple of seconds, then he glup. “Koa.”

For 30 minutes all around there were fighting for not laughing, after Koa was prepared with all he needed, Oscar got up with a slight tremble in his hands grabbing the lead tight for the way his knuckles turned white and his legs grabbed tight the back of Koa. 

Koa keeps sighing but he stays calm. 

“I’ll give him a hand.” I said walking back where Marcus and James are with Oscar trying to calm him down.

“Yes, please, otherwise, Koa will be mad by the end of the day.” Rachel said as Kaila shared her sandwich with her. 

I reached them, Oscar seems to be fighting for his life over Koa. “Can I?” 

James and Marcus nod, giving us a proper distance, Oscar sighs. “That bad, huh?”

I click my tongue patting Koa's head. “To be a guy who drives a car so freaking fast, yeah.” 

Oscar laughs, relaxing the grip over the lead. “The car isn't alive, he is.”

“And you’re making him give up.” I put my hand over his and guide to the side of the Koa’s neck.

Koa’s heartbeat calmly as he breathes in slowly, Oscar wide open his eyes, feeling the heartbeat. 

“Close your eyes.” He does as I keep talking. “And take a deep breath with him.” He does. “See, he trusts you, now, it’s your turn to trust him.”

Oscar keeps like that for a couple of seconds, until he opens his eyes, sits properly and nods to me. His body relaxes, knuckles back to his normal color, and his legs relax at both sides of Koa.

I pat the back of Koa twice so he starts to walk with a trembling but calm driver over his back.

We spend a full day with the horses as Oscar asks questions about all he can; we answer each one of them calmly, kind of surprised that he’s so interested in them. When lunch time reaches us, Nanny sends us a small picnic so we eat it under one of the small tents next to the open field, with the horses just perking from time to time and see if we are still there. 

As the sun came down, it’s time for the horses to go back to getting ready to rest. One by one Oscar waves his hand and says goodbye with their names. 

Pharaon didn’t turn around; he just kept pushing Azabache as he continued walking; Koa was another story. He waits until Oscar extends his hand for he leans his mouth over his. 

“Sorry big boy.” Oscar apologizes, Koa sighs as he keeps walking. “THANK YOU!” 

He turns around with a big smile. “And thanks to you.” He breath in. “Thanks to you too, I have an amazing day.”

I nod, even though it's 6 pm, the weather starts to get cold, the temperature drops and the fact I just barely sit, makes my back hurt, as I shiver. 

Oscar takes his hoodie and puts it over my shoulders, taking me by a surprise. “Sorry, you must be tired and I kept you…”

“It’s not you.” The breeze brings the strong smell of the cacao. “I had an accident a couple of years ago.”

I don’t know if it’s because of my tiredness or the strange warmth I feel but I feel a need to speak with someone who doesn’t look at me with sadness.

I need to let it out.

A couple of years ago, mom found a horse along the road, it seemed tired, sick and in really bad conditions, due Rachel's rejection that he stay, mom insisted that she wouldn’t let it alone. 

Rachel didn't mean that, she meant to make sure someone who specializes in this kind of cases will come for him that night, but mom insisted that who better than hers. 

Around that time I was in a pretty good moment; a few months ago I just won my second championship with Obsidian; Cocoa just got pregnant so she was out of any kind of plans for equestrian.

For months we keep an eye on that horse, at the beginning he seems reluctant to anyone approach him but with time he starts to trust on us; as I keep training with Obsidian he begins to get related with the oher horses, so we believed he was actually making progress with us. Rachel, James and Pharaon didn’t believe the same.

With the beginning of another championship, I was pretty excited, the kind of emotions that clouds any rational thought. 

One day as I saw Nebula keep calm around the new horse, an irrational idea crossed my mind. I wanted to train the new boy.

He was never riding for someone, it was a stupidly thought and everyone warned me that but I think like mom, if she gave him a chance why would I not.

Apparently he waited for us to put all over him as I prepared myself watching him into his eyes, any warning signs were visible. 

James, Bill and Walther, my coach, keep by our side as I get over him, and we wait.

I asked them to please keep their distance, we were on the open field so he would remain calm.

Until he didn't.

By the time they all took their distance he walked away and then started to jump even though I tried to calm him down he was so scared and freaked out that he refused to listen. I tried to grab the reins tight but slowly I started to get scared too.

When Cocoa noticed what was happening, she ran to me but that was the only thing I needed to get distracted.

She was in her last month of pregnancy, forcing her could bring bad consequences.

Without realising I loosen my grip, the horse stands on two legs and I fall backwards.

“The only thing I remember was seeing Cocoa getting between me and the horse standing on two legs.” We walk until the small hill where we sit, Oscar observing me carefully. “I woke up 5 days later with …a massive pain all over my body.” I wipe a tear. “I just want to know one thing.”

“About Cocoa.” He complet my phrase as I nodded.

“She had premature labour, even Rachel and James did everything they could, Cocoa has the appearance of only being tired…” Oscar grabs my hand tight. “While I was stuck in a fucking hospital bed, she was fighting for keep another day alive.”

I gripped his hand trying to gain strength. “She died 10 days later.” I let the tears run. “As I was in the middle of surgery.”

I take my time, unable to stop the words coming out.

“I really really tried to stand up, physically and mentally, but when I finally thought and rode a horse, a strong and constant pain appeared on my ribs.” I lift the Oscars hoodie, and my clothes so he can see the bump magenta scar at the side of my ribs.

“8 months ago I underwent another surgery.” Oscar helps me to set my clothes back again. “This time the doctors decided to keep my diagnosis as a be anyone's call.”

“And?” He looks hopeful for the way he grips right and moves his eyes around my face.

“I don't know.” I take my hand. “Monthly I received a letter with the diagnosis but I never dare to open it.” 

“Why?!” He sat facing me. “I mean, why? You love this, I can clearly see if, why…why?”

“I'm scared.” I put my hands on the pocket of the hoodie. “I lost Cocoa, I loved her till the end of the world.”

I sigh. “I fool myself, pretending I can still have a hope of being up on a horse one more time.”

“What if you actually could?!” Oscar stands walking around me. “I mean what if the letter has the words you need.”

“What if it doesn't?” He probably won't realise it but we started to walk back to the house as he kept thinking and saying things that could help me.

“I probably me…why did you tell me this?” Making me smirk.

“Why not?” I open the door of the kitchen. “You listen and look at me with hope. I'm thankful for that besides I haven't anything to lose.”

Oscar holds the door as I get in. “You're a formula one driver, until yesterday someone we didn’t know each other existed, probably you would forget this in 3-4 days, and it's ok, I'm ok with that.”

Oscar blinked a couple of times but he didn't have time to answer because one of the people who came with them found us in the hallway of the living room.

“Oscar, leaving in 20.”

I took the hoodie and gave it to him. “Thanks Oscar, thank you so much.”

[cinderflower]

Last night someone very close to me made a remark of "I don't know how you write from scratch, I love using chatgpt, it makes it so easy and I don't have to think".

It seems innocent enough as a statement, but especially in the light of everything currently happening in the world, it's a reflection of the current mindset of the average person. They meant it as a half-compliment and expected me to respond by agreeing with them by saying writing is hard. And to an extent, yes, it absolutely is. It's something that's deeply time consuming and takes a lot of effort if you want to get very good at it and hone it as a craft.

But at the same time, it's not hard at all. Just writing for the sake of writing, for the pure intent and joy of creating something, only requires that you have an idea and put forth the time and effort to create something out of it. Writing can be a book, a fanfic, a blog post, a journal entry, or hell even a background story for a DND character - it's all writing and it's all valid, no matter what your skill level is because it's something you are making.

"Why put forth all that effort when you can just ask [insert AI tool here] to do it?"

The act of writing and creating should never be viewed as something unfathomable and unattainable without the assistance of AI. It is something that each and every person is capable of. It is something that humans have been doing for thousands of years. To create is to be human - do not let them convince you that you are incapable of it. Or worse, that it is not worth your time.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but just because something is convenient doesn't mean it should be used. There's a reason why it's being pushed so aggressively by the same large tech corporations and billionaires that are directly funding fascist agendas. There's a reason they're actively trying to dismantle the public education system.

Anti-intellectualism is the goal.

It's a well-documented and researched phenomenon that the less educated a population is, the better it is for capitalists and fascists. An educated population is more likely to organize and engage in critical thinking and criticism because they are able to analyze and understand the underlying sources of the systemic flaws that are the heart of the problem. An uneducated population will allow themselves to be divided and will happily be exploited. They will actively advocate against their own best interests.

There's a reason they are pushing AI so strongly in creative fields and are trying to automate away those jobs specifically. Because not only is creativity skilled labor, it is not guaranteed to be profitable. To them, you are more valuable as cheap, uneducated, unskilled workers that can be more easily alienated from your labor.

It goes hand in hand with the rise of "gig economy" jobs (uber, door dash, etc) and the systemic dismantlement of labor protections. Not only do they want you to be uneducated, they want you to be isolated, poor, and overworked. They want as many hours of your labor as they can possible squeeze from you for the lowest cost and highest profits. They want you to be exhausted in your free time and to fill the void in your heart with rampant consumerism to keep you docile and put more money in their pockets. It's in part why things like phones, tvs, and other formerly luxury goods focused on mindless entertainment have become so cheap.

Time spent on creativity that doesn't drive profit is considered wasteful, but it is also considered dangerous. It encourages critical thinking, community, and it opens the door for people to engage with "radical" ideas that through AI tools they can censor and ensure don't surface. It is why any pro-censorship arguments are inherently pro-fascist. Make no mistake - they are doing everything in their power to make it as desirable as possible to not pursue creative endeavors or engage with anything outside of the carefully cultivated messages in the entertainment they provide.

Instead of turning to chatgpt or whatever other AI tool is out there the next time you want to create something - don't. Challenge yourself to create it on your own. It doesn't matter how "bad" or "sloppy" it is because that's the beauty of it. No one starts out as a master of their craft, their writing becomes better over time because they practice. They write and write and write even if they never publish it. They learn and grow with every piece they create. That is something worth celebrating, now more than ever.

Do not be docile and blindly accept the tools they hand you.

Do not welcome the boot they intend to use to crush you.

Do not advocate for your own demise.

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[hauntingblue]

WATER SEVEN BABYYYYY

Look at robin reacting when luffy says he wont give her up.... 🥺🥺

This is a joke right now but its actually a one piece tenet aldjsisjka

Usopp aksbaksjakqk the foreshadow is foreshadowing... Also Robin being happy with the crew after the Aokiji incident... Fuck!!!!

Sanji thinking robin just vanished or flew away and suddenly usopp is soaring thru the skies... imagine

AAAAARGGGGHHHH YOU CAN SEE THE GEARS TURNING

Zoro talking to merry..... only while he is alone of course

Why are nami and sanji matching ajdhakjsk look at the citrus sisters

Carpenter: maybe it was the government

Gov agent: I don't think so, also don't say that they are everywhere

LUFFY SUPPORTS WOMEN'S WRONGS!!!

Don't scream att chopper like that!!! Look at him... So small....

Imu tease???? (No) (Also I've changed websites again bc the translation is kinda off , I can't find a good quality b&w spanish translation and the colors scare me (i want the real manga experience))

GET HIM ICEBURG!!!!

I truly forgor if this is just a lie about her wanting to find the rio poneglyphs or genuine because she wants to die and will do it for them... because in skypiea she says she is not interested in the weapons so maybe if the gov pardons her but considering what she wants is illegal then idk abdjabjs this is such a dumb thing to forget... like thats important girl where did it go (reading this after remembering and it's kinda funny... i will make any sacrifice to kill myself (and keep you safe)... she goes HARD)

Little paulie and mozu and kiwi.... omg hello (the SBS says the twins wanted to be shipwrights too omg)

Franky's backstory is small but it does so much for me like it is so central to the themes... boats and people...

DID SOMEBODY ORDER MORE TRAGIC BROTHERS?

The fact that franky needs to learn this lesson to pass it on to robin.... do you understand how big this is.... also Tom does exactly as he says and takes responsibility for franky and what he has done... because he has done nothing wrong AND THAT'S HIS SON and he just punched spandam bc he wanta him to feel the pain franky feels... Tom is such a man..... proud of having built eater 7 up with the sea train.... goes out with a boom.... should we all kill ourselves....

I am crying again................... franky my god.... and the fucking frog!!! And of course franky can't stop Tom's hope for his island... of course he can't.... he hasnt learnt the lesson yet but this guy isn't over yet!! He has a life of being a pervert cyborg ahead!!! Iceburg following Tom's footsteps but franky not being able to do that bc of his guilt....

This is one of the coolest things chopper has done btw...

NAMII 😭😭😭

Robin damning the world for her crew when all she has ever done is damn her companions for her own sake.... how big is this...

I can't take this...... it's always nami in these positions... it happens AGAIN in Zou with Sanji... there is no way

The love letter gag is too good like damn that's so funny

AND IT'S NAMI GOING THROUGH IT AGAIN!!!! SHE LOVES ROBIN SO MUCH!!!!

[voltrixz]

TSSM SINISTER SIX FOUND FAMILY!!!!!!  TSSM SINISTER SIX FOUND FAMILY!!!!!!!!!! AGRHHH !!! ARGH!!!!!! I LOVE YOU VILLAIN FOUND FAMILIES !!!!!!! RGAHHH!!!!!!!!!!! THEY ACT LIKE THEY DESPISE EACH OTHER BUT THEY CARE FOR EACH OTHER SO MUCH AGRHH AGRHH!!!!!! LOVE YOU TSSM SINISTER SIX FOUND FAMILY, YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

[snekdood]

i think ppl gotta get acquainted with the difference between systemic privilege and social privilege, which can overlap, but not always.

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[artisanalpeanutbutter]

Not gonna lie

I dont think I'll ever forgive my parents for how poorly they mishandled our dog's health. I constantly felt as though it was my fault even though I quite literally couldn't do any more than i did. I still feel as though it was my fault. He deserved so much fucking better. I love him, and he had to endure such horrible skin problems because my parents refused to take him to a better vet because they were convinced the one they went to was fine. Even though I protested them for YEARS. I tried so fucking hard to get them to see what was going on but they just let it get worse and worse. They would never listen. And I couldn't take him somewhere on my own because I was a kid with no money. My sibling was too busy to notice. And my mom couldn't accept that it was her fault, and that she could've done better. I think she knows now but is still denying it to herself. My dad, quite frankly, didn't care.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.

“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”

Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.

The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”

You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.

He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.

“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”

“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.

“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.

He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”

“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.

“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”

Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?

“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.

Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.

Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.

Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest. 

“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.

He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.

“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”

You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”

He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.” 

You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.

“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”

That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.

So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.

“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”

You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.

When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.

Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”

Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.   

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone. 

That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.

“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.

You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.

As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.

Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.

“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”

He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.

“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”

He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!” 

[inkskinned]

i have a fever. let's imagine pokemon world dash discourse together. (sorry i do not have darkmode.)

🤳🏻 pokestopit reblogged team-sprocket

👻 gengaydar Follow

For the last fucking time owning a gengar is NOT graverobbing. what is actually wrong with you people

#gengar #why am i even still on this site #i don't have a gengar but like. what's even going on over there #is marowak graverobbing now too??

💅 deerlinguist reblogged givemeyourstrongestpotion

👩‍❤️‍👩 lightscreend Follow

farfetch'd is like the most edible pokemon just because he comes with his own aromatics. pop that bad boy in the oven with some oran berries.... don't mind if i do

⚧ feministforcepalm Follow

@dyketraining tags pass peer review

🚣🏼‍♂️ magicarpaltunnel reblogged haxorsus

🐦‍⬛ corvikite Follow

I love to hate things and people. And when I turn out to be RIGHT and that person is a DICK? All parasocial relationships are bad and evil unless I am right about hating someone and then parasocial relationships are good actually

🪐waterbubbil Follow

We all thought about the same person let's just be honest here....

🎀 contest-winrar Follow

For me it's always going to be people who keep Pokémon without any thought as to their enrichment and needs. You do not need a fucking Arcanine, you live in a studio apartment and don't walk more than a block a day. You think you want a Gardevoir but are you okay with having an unknowable creature reading your thoughts every waking moment of the day? Even while you do... the nasty?

It drives me crazy because people see a Champion and think they have the time, energy, money, and space necessary to raise a Dragon type. Unless you have generational wealth, let me spell it out for you: you do not have the funds for a Dragon type. And yes! Charizard is on that list, guys! You can't even afford to feed yourself!

📯 jessiejustlickme Follow

local tumblr user declares the poors only get rat pokemon. maybe a bug pokémon if we are very good. we must grovel in the streets amen

🎀 contest-winrar Follow

Laugh all you want but I'm serious. I have heard of someone who is living with a MR. MIME like it's her HUSBAND!!!! That's fucking GROSS. These are creatures that TRUST us and NEED us.

Did you know that most Ponyta prefer to be in a herd? Are you going to have the space for that? Did you know that if you don't properly care for certain fire species their flame goes out? Sure, they're cute when they're small: but unless you're a rancher or a Gym Leader... I'm sorry. You're gross to me if you think otherwise. I hate people like that.

And for the record, rat and bug Pokémon are very valuable from an ecological standpoint. They hold an extremely important niche. People like you would rather they be hunted to extinction because they're pests, not pretty. It's disgusting.

🐦‍⬛ corvikite Follow

anybody in this thread smoke weed

#NOT THE RATS FOR THE POOR PEOPLE... GIRLLLLLL #the thing is they're not like... wrong.... #like i agree with the sentiment #my friend tried to get a slyveon just by like. playing catch a few times #.... like you do need to try.... #also fyi i have a large species so i'm biased #grovyle my baby . my man. u are costing me like so much in pokepuffs per month

👁‍🗨 badsol

why are we all talking about what pokemon to eat tonight lmafo

#.... obviously jigglypuff. homegirl is 90% cotton candy

🪅 feebassguitar reblogged metrognome

🫖 sinisteacher Follow

Like okay I got into science because I love to learn but the more I find out about how we've classified Pokémon types the more insane I feel. What do you mean there's no singular true indicator? What do you mean that there are several conditions which completely alter their base type?

Literally today my lab partner and I got into a very serious discussion about Luxray. That thing is a fuckking dark type!!!!! I'm sorry!!! I don't care what Bulbapedia says!!!! anyway i threw a pokeball at him and it swallowed him whole and now i'm going to jail for unlawful imprisonment of a TA

🍙 thesandwichking Follow

there's something, like, very dystopian about the idea that if u put an ugly hat on ur favorite little creature it changes like. the DNA. like. do other pokemon look at what you've done and cower? that's their friend... similar but changed... forever having known a life that is entirely alien to them...

🐳 wailordsupreme Follow

.... Are we going to ignore that OP swallowed a human into a ball???

#yes we are. #my friend loves those hats but I think they're so ugly #and stupid #if i wanted a specific type imma get that type..... #typesetting #show james

🧗‍♀️ backpacksandcavesnacks reblogged eevee-lotion

👑 lemmegrabmyballs Follow

ROUND 5 of 6 (see blog for more)

PLEASE REBLOG FOR VISIBILITY:

✍️ dreepydrabbles reblogged ash-hole

☠️ marrowhackoff Follow

just saw someone say writing omegaverse fanfic of your pokemon is bestiality. ma'am this is the monster fucking site. you should be grateful that it's only omegaverse.

#the things i've seen would melt your eyebrows clean off your face #..... typhlosion they could never make me hate you baby #i know that's not what's in your heart

🪽 honey-tree-skies reblogged gymcrawler

🐛 youngstirjoey Follow

Okay say what you will. But shorts really are comfy and easy to wear

🛀🏽 intimidatecutsyourattack Follow

Sorry bud. But. Investing at 3 notes

🐛 youngstirjoey Follow

don't do this to me. i h avue a wife . and chi ld

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.