#except for 16 candles

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 15

˗ˏˋ ambushed ˎˊ˗

"You have no idea how you ended up being the middlewoman for Jungkook’s surprise birthday party. You also had no clue who Yeji’s brother was—except, apparently, you did. And now, on top of everything, there’s a hot teaching assistant who seems to be interested in you."

next | index

���｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 7,8k.

content: being unwillingly (not really) recruited for jungkook's surprise bday party, tae being a hater as usual, hobi as a mediator, yoongi gives 0 fucks about everything, discovering who Yeji's brother is, meeting new people, library encounters and naughty texts.

✧ author's note ✧

OKAY SO. Here’s Chapter 15.

You absolute goblins hit the last goal in less than 24 hours, so naturally, I’m raising the bar—because I refuse to be outmaneuvered like this. Chapter 16 is already in progress, but you better give me enough time to finish and proofread it, or we’re gonna have problems.

Also, I’m out of town this weekend, which means I probably won’t be writing at all. Consider it my three-day break. SO TAKE IT SLOW. BREATHE. WE WILL REACH THE GOAL EVENTUALLY.

Anyway, this chapter was ridiculously fun to write because I finally got to have Y/N exchange numbers with Hobi and Tae. Also, Jungkook’s birthday is September 1st, and I’m keeping that canon, so… her getting roped into this party planning mess is hilarious to me (except, actually, not really—because free drinks. And let’s be real, I’d also agree if someone covered my tab for the night).

ALSOOOOO. New character unlocked! What are our thoughts on the TA? You’ll see Jungkook’s perspective next chapter. :) (Reminder: we’re dealing with limited POVs here, so read between the lines. It’s your job to play detective. These two are unreliable narrators, as we all know.)

Mwah mwah, Kiki off.

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

College syllabi should come with a warning label: May cause extreme boredom and online shopping addiction.

Your cursor hovers between two different scented candles on your screen—both equally wrong for Emma's birthday. 

Fresh ocean waves. 

How is that not a standard candle scent? 

You've scrolled through seventeen different websites and the closest you've found is "Sea Breeze" (too generic) and "Ocean Mist" (which, according to reviews, smells like "bathroom cleaner with a hint of desperation").

Professor Herrington drones on about post-modern literary theory, his monotone voice basically putting everyone to sleep.

Except Jimin, because next to you, his pen scratches across his notebook, meticulous notes forming in his neat handwriting. 

Thank god for Jimin. 

Your own notebook sits open with exactly three words written at the top: "Post-modern lit is..." The sentence remains unfinished because, well, you stopped paying attention approximately forty-two minutes ago.

Your phone buzzes against your thigh. Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession.

What fresh hell is this? you wonder, sliding it out just enough to peek at the notifications.

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗  created a new conversation

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗  named the conversation "kafka my beloved"

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗  added You to "kafka my beloved"

You blink at the notification. What the actual fuck?

You open the chat under your desk, finding only Yoongi's contact among two other +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗 s.

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗 : 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗 : 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 :)

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗 : 𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚢/𝚗! 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒 :) 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛?

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢.

You stare at your phone, momentarily confused. Jungkook's birthday? Since when are you involved in anything Jungkook-related that doesn't involve slamming doors, fighting over Griffin, or... well, the other thing that nobody knows about?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚖𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚖 𝚒 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚔𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍

A pause, and then:

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗 : 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝

 +𝟏 (𝟗𝟏𝟕) 𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐗 : 𝚒’𝚖 𝚝𝚊𝚎𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚝𝚠… 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠

Ah, of course. Mr. Artistic-and-Condescending himself. You quickly save his contact as "𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨" and the other as "𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃".

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚓𝚘𝚛 

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎??

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚍𝚘 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚍?? 

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝚜𝚝.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚢, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒’𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚒’𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢???

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢!

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎! 🥳

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚊𝚜 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍… 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝? 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒?

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝟷.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎... 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜?? 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘??

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢! 🎂

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠?

There's a noticeable pause in the conversation, and you glance up to make sure Professor Harrington hasn't caught you texting. He's still gesturing wildly about stream of consciousness, completely oblivious.

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚜

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚊𝚝 𝙱𝙽

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗? 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝟾𝚙𝚖 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚝 𝟻

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚒’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒’𝚖 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 ��𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚛 🙃

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝! 🎉

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢?

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛. 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎.

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 ^

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚠𝚎 𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 (𝚢𝚘𝚞) 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝟾 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢? 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?

Another pause, longer this time. You can practically feel the tension through the screen.

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕! 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 😊

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 "𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝" 𝚜𝚘 𝚒’𝚖 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚒𝚊?

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞���� 𝚖𝚒𝚊?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚔 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚘 𝚒’𝚖 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚙?

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚕

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎’𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙, 𝚢/𝚗! 💫

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚍𝚔

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝚆𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚖𝚖𝚖𝚖𝚖𝚖…

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 💕

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕?

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚍𝚌 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 ☺️

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜? 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖?

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚜.

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚒’𝚖 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜! 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢-𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢???

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚏

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊?

Your cheeks heat up as you remember exactly how you know Jungkook likes vanilla—specifically, the vanilla-scented body wash you were wearing the night you ended up in bed with him. 

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜???

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊.

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝟽𝚝𝚑! 🍪

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎!

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚘

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝... 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗?

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜?

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘! 🥳

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚒𝚝’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝟷𝟻 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚘 𝚒’𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒’𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝? 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛?

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 😕

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛!

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎,𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚔 🙄

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚝𝚟

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍.

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚢/𝚗! 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 🙏

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚙

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜! 📚

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖

You bite your lip, thinking about exactly how "personal" things have gotten between you and Jungkook in the three weeks since you moved in. 

If they only knew.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚑𝚞𝚑

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚝

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝! 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢! 🎉

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛?

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢💃: 𝚢𝚎𝚜! 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘! 🚀

You lock your phone just as Professor Harrington calls on someone in the front row to analyze a passage. Jimin gives you a side-eye that clearly says "I saw you texting the whole time," but he slides his notes closer to you anyway.

Now you have two birthday gifts to figure out, and somehow you need to convince Jungkook—the guy you've been having no-strings-attached sex with for the past few weeks—to go to a restaurant without making it weird or suspicious.

And apparently there's some mysterious birthday trauma you're not allowed to know about.

Great. Just great.

You click back to the birthday options for Emma. At least one decision should be simple.

When the lecture finally ends, you let out a yawn so massive it feels like your jaw might unhinge. The kind of yawn that makes your eyes water and your whole body stretch like a cat waking up from a seventeen-hour nap.

"Could you at least pretend to pay attention?" Jimin taps you on the head with his pen. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to be annoying. Like a woodpecker with perfect hair and a conscience.

You rub your eyes, smudging whatever mascara you bothered to put on this morning. "What for? I'll just jam it all in my head two weeks before the exam and I'll pass it. Always works."

"Until it doesn't," he says with that little smile that makes you want to both hug him and flick his forehead. The smile that says he's judging you but in the nicest possible way.

"Has worked for the past two years," you counter, shoving your mostly empty notebook into your bag. "I'm basically a professional at academic procrastination at this point."

Jimin slides his laptop into its case with the precision of someone who actually paid for their electronics themselves instead of guilting their parents into it like you did. He zips it closed and slings the strap across his body, adjusting it so it sits perfectly against his hip.

And then he just... stands there. In front of your table. Waiting.

It's such a small thing. Stupid, really. 

But as you fumble with your pens and shove crumpled papers into your bag, you can't help but notice how he's just there. Not rushing ahead with a quick "see you later" thrown over his shoulder. Not walking out with other classmates while you're left scrambling to catch up.

He just waits. Patiently. Drumming his fingers against the edge of the desk in a rhythm that probably matches whatever song is stuck in his head today. His eyes wander around the lecture hall, watching other students file out in chattering groups.

You've only known Jimin for what—three and a half weeks?—since the semester started, but somehow he's already figured out this thing that matters to you without you having to say it. 

The waiting. The not leaving first.

A smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. You try to hide it by ducking your head, but when you glance up, Jimin's looking down at you with one eyebrow quirked in question.

"Let's go to Jin's," you say, zipping your bag closed with more force than necessary. "Coffee. My treat."

"Alright," he agrees easily, but his eyes are knowing. "But just because it's your treat."

You roll your eyes. "I’m not made of money."

"Says the girl who spent the entire lecture online shopping."

"That's different. That's for Emma's birthday." You sling your bag over your shoulder and start walking toward the exit. "And apparently I need to get something for Jungkook too now."

"Jungkook?" Jimin falls into step beside you. "Your roommate? The one you said, and I quote, 'has the personality of a wet sock with tattoos'?"

"Did I say that?" You wince. "That's a little harsh. He's more like... a slightly damp sock. With tattoos. And a cat."

"Uh-huh." Jimin holds the door open for you because of course he does. "And you're buying him a gift because...?"

"His friends are planning this whole surprise birthday thing and somehow I got roped into it." You step outside into the September sunshine, immediately regretting your choice of a black t-shirt. "I have to get him to some ramen place on Saturday without making it obvious."

"Sounds like a job for someone who actually likes him," Jimin says, adjusting his bag strap again.

"That's what I said!" You throw your hands up. "But apparently I'm the only option because Yoongi's too obvious or whatever."

You navigate through the crowded walkway, automatically stepping closer to Jimin when a group of skateboarders whizzes by. 

"So what are you getting him?" Jimin asks.

"No idea. His friend suggested whiskey or photography books." You mumble. "But it feels weird to get him something when we barely know each other."

Jimin gives you a look that's a little too perceptive for comfort. "You live together. How do you barely know each other after almost a month?"

"We're not exactly having heart-to-hearts over breakfast, Jimin." You avoid his eyes. "It's more like ships passing in the night. Ships that occasionally fight over whose turn it is to clean the bathroom."

"Hmm." It's a noncommittal sound, but somehow Jimin packs a lot of doubt into that one syllable.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He shrugs. "Just seems like there might be more to the story."

You nearly trip over your own feet. Does he know? How could he know? You've been so careful not to mention anything about your... arrangement with Jungkook. But Jimin has this annoying sixth sense about people.

"There's nothing to tell," you say, too quickly. "He's just my roommate. Who happens to need a birthday gift now."

"If you say so." Jimin mercifully drops the subject. "So what did you end up getting for Emma?" 

"Nothing yet. I was looking at candles, but none of them are right. She likes ocean scents, but all the ones I found online smell like bathroom cleaner according to the reviews."

"What about that little shop on 12th? The one with all the handmade stuff?"

You blink at him. "What shop on 12th?"

"The one we walked past last week when you were complaining about your landlord's no-pets policy while simultaneously showing me fifty pictures of Griffin."

"Oh." You vaguely remember a storefront with crystals in the window. "I didn't notice it."

"Of course you didn't." Jimin's smile is fond. "You were too busy telling me how Griffin only knocks over Jungkook's things but never yours."

"Because it's true! That cat has taste. But yeah, maybe we could check out that shop after coffee? If you're not busy?"

“Maybe after coffee.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs—that bright, genuine laugh that makes it impossible not to smile back. It's weird having a friend like Jimin. Someone who waits for you after class and remembers the shops you walk past and doesn't make you feel like you're too much or not enough.

It's nice. 

Really nice.

The bell chiming in Jin's shop shouldn't come as a surprise. 

So it doesn't. 

What does, however, is Professor Kim standing next to your university best friend Yeji as she animatedly complains about coffee to Jin, who looks like he's rolling his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head and roll across the counter.

You stop dead in your tracks, nearly causing Jimin to crash into your back. Your brain immediately halts its processes like you've just witnessed your high school principal at a strip club. 

Because what the actual fuck is Professor Namjoon Kim—the English department's golden boy who publishes in journals you can't even pronounce—doing hanging out with Yeji? 

It's like seeing your therapist at the grocery store. Or your gynecologist at a bar. 

Some people just shouldn't exist outside their designated spaces in your life.

"Uh... hi Yeji?" you mutter, approaching the counter.

Your hand instinctively grabs the handle of your bag, clutching it like it might somehow explain this bizarre crossover episode of your life.

Jimin grabs your arm from behind, his fingers digging into your bicep as he tries to subtly pull you away. You can practically feel the panic radiating off him. 

Makes sense. 

Professor Kim is basically his academic idol—the guy probably has Namjoon's journal articles taped to his ceiling like other people have posters of rock stars.

But your curiosity is stronger than your sense of self-preservation. It always has been.

"Why are you with Professor Kim?" you blurt out, gesturing between them with your free hand. "That's such an odd combination?"

Yeji turns around, her perfectly glossed lips forming a small 'o' of surprise before morphing into an amused smile. "You mean my brother?"

Brother?

You actually feel your mouth hanging open, but you can't seem to close it. It's like your jaw muscles have gone on strike.

"Your what now?" you choke out, eyes darting between them. 

And holy shit, how did you not see it before? They have the same eyes. The same way of tilting their head slightly when confused. The same fucking dimples when they smile.

"Brother," Yeji repeats slowly, like you might not understand the concept of siblings. "You know, same parents, shared childhood trauma, occasional desire to commit murder?"

Professor Kim—Namjoon—lets out a deep chuckle that somehow makes him seem less like the intimidating academic genius and more like... well, Yeji's dorky older brother.

"I didn't realize you two knew each other," he says, looking between you and Yeji with genuine surprise.

"We're in the same class for History of Modern Art," Yeji explains, then turns to you with narrowed eyes. "Wait, how do you know Joon?"

"He, uh—" you start, but Jimin cuts you off, apparently having recovered from his initial shock.

"Professor Kim helped Y/N with her English assignment last week in the cafeteria," he says, his voice doing that slightly higher thing it does when he's nervous. "He's my Literary Criticism professor."

Jin, who's been watching this whole exchange with the entertained expression of someone witnessing a particularly juicy reality TV show, slides a cup across the counter. 

“Your usual, Joon. Maybe this will help you process the fact that your worlds are colliding."

"Thanks," Namjoon says, accepting the coffee. "And it's not that weird. University's a small place."

"Not that weird?" you repeat, your voice climbing an octave. "Yeji's been my friend for almost a month and she never once mentioned her brother is the Professor Kim who's published in like, every major literary journal and is the youngest professor in the English department!"

Yeji shrugs, completely unbothered by your minor meltdown. "Why would I? It's not like I go around introducing myself as 'Yeji Kim, sister of Namjoon Kim, academic wunderkind.'"

"You absolutely should," Jin interjects, wiping down the counter. "It's much more interesting than 'Yeji Kim, girl who complains about my coffee being too bitter even though that's literally how coffee tastes.'"

"It doesn't have to taste like liquid punishment, Jinjin," Yeji fires back.

“Call me that again, I dare you.”

She just sticks her tongue out at him. 

Meanwhile, your brain is still trying to process this information. Yeji—your friend who constantly convinces you to skip class—is related to the professor who casually dropped references to obscure literary theories while helping you with your paper. The same professor who Jimin practically worships from afar.

The bell chimes again, and Namjoon glances over your shoulder, his face lighting up with recognition.

"Jason! Perfect timing," he calls out, waving someone over.

You turn to see a man who looks like he walked straight out of an academic journal's "30 Under 30" feature. Dark wavy hair, green eyes, and a messenger bag settled against his thigh. He looks younger than Namjoon but carries himself with the same confident ease, minus the dorky energy Namjoon apparently reserves for his sister.

"Sorry I'm late," he says, approaching your little group. "Office hours ran long."

"Everyone, this is Jason Calloway," Namjoon introduces as the newcomer reaches you. "He's a teaching assistant in the English department, working on his PhD. Jason, this is my sister Yeji, her friend Y/N, and—"

"Jimin Park," Jason finishes, nodding at Jimin. "From Literary Criticism, right? Front row, always has insightful questions."

Jimin looks like he might spontaneously combust from the recognition. "Y-yes, that's me."

"And Jin, the coffee wizard," Namjoon adds, gesturing to the barista.

Jin gives a curt nod, his ‘usual’ friendliness suddenly dialed down to about a three. "Professor Calloway."

"Please, just Jason," he insists with a smile that reveals perfect teeth. 

(Of course they're perfect. The guy probably flosses twice a day and has never had a cavity in his life.)

His eyes land on you, and you feel weirdly self-conscious about the fact that you haven't brushed your hair since you woke up.

"Y/N, was it?" he asks, extending his hand. "I don't think I've seen you in any of the English department courses."

You shake his hand, noticing how firm his grip is. Like, professional-level handshake firmness. 

“That's because I'm not in Literary Criticism. Though I’m friends with Yeji and uh, occasionally get help from her brother when I'm desperate."

"She's being modest," Namjoon interjects. "She wrote an excellent analysis of Joyce's symbolism in 'Araby' last week."

"Really?" Jason's eyebrows rise with what seems like genuine interest. "That's one of my favorite stories from Dubliners. What was your take?"

And suddenly you're discussing your half-assed paper with this unfairly attractive TA while everyone else watches. 

"...so basically I argued that the bazaar represents this false promise of escape that ultimately just reinforces the narrator's entrapment," you finish, surprised at how coherent you sound.

"That's a compelling reading," Jason says, and he actually sounds like he means it. "Have you considered taking any of the modernist literature electives? Professor Harlow is teaching one next semester that would build on exactly those kinds of insights."

"Oh, I don't know if—"

"She'd be perfect for it," Namjoon agrees, nodding enthusiastically. "Y/N has a natural instinct for literary analysis.”

You shoot him a betrayed look. Way to trap you in front of Hot TA.

"I'll think about it," you say, which is your standard response to any suggestion that might involve additional work.

"You should," Jason says, pulling out his phone. "Actually, I'm putting together a study group for students interested in modernist literature. We meet at the library on Thursdays. Nothing formal, just discussions. Would you want me to text you the details?"

Is he... is he asking for your number? Under the guise of academic enrichment?

"Sure," you hear yourself saying, even though the last thing you need is another commitment. 

You recite your number as he types it into his phone.

"Great," he says, pocketing his phone with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. "I'll text you the information."

Jin clears his throat loudly. "Are you ordering something, or just recruiting for your book club?"

"Black coffee, please," Jason says, unfazed by Jin's tone. "And whatever these two are having." He gestures to you and Jimin.

"Oh, that's not necessary—" you start.

"I insist," Jason says. "Consider it a thank you for the interesting conversation."

"I was going to treat Jimin," you protest weakly.

"Then you can treat him next time," Jason counters smoothly.

“Coming right up," Jin says in a tone that suggests he'd rather be doing literally anything else.

"So, Jason," Yeji pipes up. “In a scale of one to ten, how boring is it working with my brother?”

“I’m literally right here.” Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“I’m not talking to you.” She nudges his shoulder.

And just like that, you find yourself observing Professor Kim engaging in sibling banter with your black cat girl friend. 

Jimin just sighs.

Jason smiles.

And you… You can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

Because he’s kinda cute. 

And he thinks you're smart, which is... new. 

And nice.

And probably easy and not at all like what you have to fight everyday back at home.

Jimin leans close to your ear. "Did you just get adopted by the Teaching Assistant?" he whispers.

"Shut up," you mutter back, but there's no heat in it.

You're too busy wondering why Jin looks like he's trying to murder Jason with his eyes as he aggressively steams milk for your latte.

You are going to kill Yoongi.

Not in a fun, theoretical way. Not in a haha, wouldn’t it be so funny if you just disappeared way. No, in a genuine, how dare you way. A why the fuck would you tell me that way. Because now you know, and it’s annoying.

Because who the fuck just collects vinyls without owning a record player? Seriously? Is Jungkook, like, a museum curator in his free time? A hoarder? A hipster? A tragic romantic who thinks the idea of playing them is better than actually hearing the music?

And why do you know this about him now? Why do you have to sit here, staring at your phone screen, realizing that—wow, Jungkook actually cares about something other than his cat, his coffee machine, or sex?

(Not that you can complain about that last one. The guy is good. But anyway. Not the point.)

The point is: you need to get him a gift, and you had thought, for maybe five minutes, oh, a record player, that’s easy, before the internet informed you that you are, in fact, an idiot. Because apparently, these things are not cheap. Not even close.

Like, two hundred dollars minimum. Minimum. 

What the actual fuck? Are these things hand-carved by monks in the Swiss Alps? Does each one come with a vial of David Bowie’s blood? 

No wonder Jungkook doesn’t have one. Knowing him, he probably wants some artisan audiophile masterpiece that costs a month’s rent, because apparently, he only likes expensive shit. If his coffee machine is any indication, he’s the kind of guy who thinks “entry-level” is an insult.

So, yeah. That’s a dead end.

Which is just great, because why should it be easy to buy a gift for your stupid, annoying roommate? The same roommate you—occasionally—fuck. The same roommate who gives you pretty damn good orgasms (objectively speaking) but also apparently sometimes ties your shoelaces and carries your fucking laundry basket. 

Not that those things mean anything. He’s still annoying. 

And this is just… inconvenient.

Because it shouldn't be this hard. Emma’s gift was easier. A candle. Because you know her. Have known her for years, since high school, since braces and straight A’s and sleepovers in a house that wasn’t filled with the crushing weight of expectation.

It’s not like you and Emma were inseparable or anything, but she was safe. Predictable in a way that your own life wasn’t. Parents who asked about school but didn’t make your worth dependent on it. A house that felt lived in, not curated for appearances. You spent whole weekends there sometimes, away from the asphyxiating worry and tightly wound smiles of home.

And yet, even with all that history, buying her a gift was easy. Thoughtless, almost. Because you know what she likes. What she always likes. Ocean scents. Easy. Done. But with Jungkook—

You don’t know him. 

Not like that. 

Not in ways that make gift-buying easy. 

You know what his mouth feels like on your skin, what he sounds like when he’s cumming, the way his grip tightens when you push him past the point of coherence. 

You know he doesn’t just fuck, he devours, the way he lets himself lose control but never in a way that feels unsafe. 

You know that Jungkook.

But this? This is something else entirely.

And it’s not like you’re overthinking it. You just… refuse to get him something meaningless? Because, what—his friends are getting him stuff that matters to him, and you’re not gonna make yourself look stupid by giving him a random mug. 

And clearly, a vinyl player is out of the question because you are not spending two hundred dollars on this man.

Because, get real. You’ve known him for a month. 

Maybe you should just go with the whiskey. Or the macarons. Or whatever the hell else his friends suggested.

But the thought of it doesn’t sit right.

It should. It should sit right.

But it doesn’t.

And then Jason is holding the door open, and Jimin is nudging you through like you’re some kid hesitating at the threshold of a dentist’s office. You shoot him a glare, but he just raises his brows in that infuriating way that says get a move on, and okay, fine. 

You step inside the library. 

It’s its usual hushed, sterile self—muted conversations, the soft clatter of laptop keys, the occasional rustle of a page turning. You’ve spent enough time here that the whole place feels mapped into your brain, familiar in a way that’s more about necessity than comfort.

Jason, of course, is completely at ease, like someone who actually enjoys being in academic settings. He had mentioned he could help you both out with your subjects—literary criticism for Jimin, contemporary poetry for you—and maybe the whole thing should feel a little weird. 

Because it is weird. 

Jason is a teaching assistant. He’s basically one step removed from a professor, and getting study help from someone who could realistically grade your future papers seems like it should be against some kind of rule.

But also, he’s attractive. And if you have to suffer through an afternoon of studying, you may as well have something nice to look at.

And okay, it’s not just that. He’s actually competent. He seems interested in the material, which is already more than you can say for yourself when it comes to dissecting yet another pretentious poem that somehow manages to say absolutely nothing in fourteen unnecessarily complicated lines. 

And if he makes studying less of a slow, painful death? 

Well. That’s a deal worth taking.

So you walk. And you do it carefully, because the last thing you need is to trip over your own feet and make a spectacular fool of yourself in front of Jason and his perfectly effortless, I-have-my-life-together aura. 

Jimin moves ahead, leading the way like he always does, because he has a whole system for this.

The table. Your table. The one tucked away far enough that nobody bothers enforcing the stupid beverage policy, even though Jimin swears that’s not the only reason he picks it every time. But to get there, you have to take the lift, which means a little more walking, a little more weaving through the maze of bookshelves and seating areas.

You’re mid-step, following Jimin’s path, when the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stand on edge.

It’s instant, sharp, like someone just screamed your name in the dead silence of a church. Except no one did. Nothing changed. The library still hums with the same subdued energy, people still absorbed in their own work, but—

Your head turns before you even realize why.

And there he is.

Jungkook.

Sitting at a table to your left, laptop open, fingers resting on the keyboard like he was mid-typing before he got distracted. 

And yeah, he is distracted, because his eyes are lifted from the screen, gaze settled on the girl beside him. She’s leaning in, whispering something, lips barely moving, and whatever she said—whatever it was—makes his mouth quirk up at the corner in that stupid, smug way that he does when he thinks he’s being effortlessly charming.

It shouldn’t be interesting.

But for some reason, your feet almost stutter.

It’s like your body noticed him before your brain did, like some ridiculous internal Jungkook radar just activated without your permission.

And you hate that.

Hate that he’s even registering in your periphery, let alone taking up any space in your thoughts. 

But your eyes are still on him. And worse, his shift.

His gaze drifts from the girl—slowly, lazily, like he’s not in any rush—until it lands on you.

And that is the moment that something tightens in your chest.

Because now he’s looking. Now he sees you, standing there, caught in this stupid little moment of unexpected eye contact. And if there’s one thing you hate, it’s that Jungkook is the type of person who notices things. 

Apparently. 

Because since when do you notice he notices things?

And then his gaze drifts.

Past you. Over your shoulder. Taking in the presence behind you like he’s cataloging it. 

Jimin, probably. Maybe Jason. 

Either way, something shifts in his expression—not dramatically, not like some big revelation, just the smallest flicker of recognition.

But then?

Then there’s the eyebrow.

A small quirk, barely there, but unmistakably him. The way it pulls up, just enough to suggest something—questioning, curious, maybe vaguely amused. 

Or maybe not amused at all. Maybe something closer to why the fuck are you here? Or who the fuck is that? Or is this really what we’re doing today?

Like you have any idea.

Like you even know what it is about this moment that makes your stomach do something unpleasantly close to twisting.

Your shoulders pull up in an easy, practiced shrug, the universal sign for why the fuck do you care? Because, really, why does he? 

Or does he?

Whatever. You’re here to study. With Jimin. And Jason, apparently. Who happens to be helping. And also happens to be attractive. And none of that is Jungkook’s business.

Except now you have to keep walking.

Which, for some reason, feels like an entirely different task than just existing a second ago. Like there’s a new weight to it now, something too aware of the fact that he’s watching. 

You should just go. Pass by. Move on. But your body is hyper-conscious of every step, every shift, every inch of space between you and the table where Jungkook sits, his laptop open, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard like he’s supposed to be typing.

But isn’t.

And then Jimin is stepping ahead again, and Jason is right beside you, and there’s no reason for you to hesitate even for a second longer.

So you don’t.

You just keep walking.

And you feel him keep staring.

And then you’re sliding into a chair far away from him (thankfully), whilst Jimin settles across from you. Jason takes the seat to your left, close enough that you catch a whiff of something woodsy and expensive. 

It's fine. This is fine. You're just here to study, not to think about the way Jungkook's eyes followed you or how his stupid eyebrow quirked up like he was asking a question you couldn't quite decipher. 

So you reach for your bag, fishing out your contemporary poetry textbook—a tome so dense it could double as a weapon in a pinch. The cover stares up at you, all pretentious font and abstract artwork, like it's judging you for not appreciating its profound literary significance or whatever.

But before you can even crack it open, your phone buzzes against your thigh. Once. Twice. Like it's impatient, demanding attention right fucking now.

With a sigh that's more dramatic than strictly necessary, you pull it out, already knowing who it's going to be. Because of course. Of course he can't just let it go.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛 𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

You stare at the screen, torn between annoyance and something dangerously close to amusement. Because really? That's what he's going with?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’t 𝚒 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝??? 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 🤨

The reply comes faster than you expected, like he was waiting with his thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚞 𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜

You snort, earning a curious glance from Jimin. You wave him off, mouthing "it's nothing" even as your fingers are already tapping out a response.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚒 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚖

You bite your lip to keep from smiling. Because it's not funny. It's not. He's just being an ass, as usual. But there's something about the quick back-and-forth that feels... familiar. Easy. Like verbal sparring but without the weight of having to actually look at each other.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗?

There's a pause. Longer this time. You imagine him glancing at the girl next to him, maybe offering some half-assed excuse for his distraction. 

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚙𝚕 𝚒 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝟸 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢

You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚊𝚗

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚏 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚊𝚗

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍... 😭 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚎. 

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘…

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚑𝚖

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐?

Another pause. This one feels different. Heavier somehow. Like he's weighing his words, which is ridiculous because when has Jungkook ever carefully considered what comes out of his mouth?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚢

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚏

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚋𝚌 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝟸? 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 👏👏👏

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝

There’s a pause. 

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛 𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢

And there it is. The question you knew was coming but still somehow catches you off guard. Because how do you explain Jason? How do you casually mention that you're getting extra help from an attractive TA without it sounding... like something it's not?

Not that it matters what Jungkook thinks. Because it doesn't. At all.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚊. 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 😀

You hit send before you can overthink it. But as soon as the message goes through, you feel a knot forming in your stomach. Like you've said too much. Or not enough. Or just... something.

The typing bubble appears. Disappears. Appears again. 

What the hell is taking him so long?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚑𝚖𝚖𝚖

That's it? Hmmm? What the fuck does that even mean?

You're about to type out a snarky reply when Jason leans in, his shoulder brushing against yours.

"Everything okay?" he asks, voice low enough not to disturb the library's hushed atmosphere.

"Yeah," you say, maybe a bit too quickly. "Nothing important."

Jason nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, whenever you're ready, we can start with Sylvia Plath's 'Lady Lazarus.' I think you'll find her use of Holocaust imagery particularly interesting in the context of personal rebirth."

Great. Just great. Holocaust imagery and personal rebirth. Exactly what you need right now when your brain is too busy trying to decode Jungkook's monosyllabic response.

Your phone buzzes again.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 

You blink at the screen. Because what the actual fuck?

And maybe you stay there, waiting for another message that doesn't come. Which is stupid because there's nothing to say. You're here to study. He's... doing whatever the hell he's doing. That's it.

So why does it feel so weird?

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice cuts through your thoughts. "You with us?"

You look up, suddenly aware that both Jimin and Jason are watching you expectantly. Waiting for you to join them in the exciting world of modernist poetry or whatever the hell you're supposed to be doing.

"Yeah," you say, shoving your phone into your bag with more force than necessary. "I'm here. Let's do this."

But as you flip open your textbook, you can't shake the feeling that he’s here. Not watching you, because you’re nowhere near him right now. But it’s like his presence hovers in an inconvenient way.

Fuck Jungkook and his stupid, cryptic texts. Fuck him and his ability to get under your skin with just a few words. And fuck you for letting him.

You've got poems to analyze and a cute TA to impress. 

That's what you're here for. 

That's all you're here for.

So. Thirty-five minutes.

That’s all it takes.

Thirty-five minutes of Sylvia Plath and Jason’s smooth, perfectly enunciated explanations. Thirty-five minutes of Jimin occasionally sighing like he’s reconsidering his entire major. Thirty-five minutes of not thinking about Jungkook. Of not wondering if he’s still at that table, if he’s still watching, if he’s still—

Ding.

Your fingers tighten around your pen. You already know.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?

You exhale sharply through your nose, tapping your phone awake under the table.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎, 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚒’𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝟹𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜. 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚒 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎???

It takes less than three seconds for the typing bubble to appear.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘???

“Your focus seems to be slipping.”

You blink up at Jason, who’s watching you with a raised brow, his fingers still resting lightly on his open book. Jimin doesn’t even pretend to hide his judgment, lips twitching as he leans back in his chair.

“Sorry,” you mutter, stuffing your phone between the pages of your textbook like it’s a bookmark instead of a distraction. “Just—uh, go on.”

Jason doesn’t push, but Jimin gives you a look. 

Your phone buzzes again.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚕𝚘𝚕. 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚞 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚓𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 “𝚠𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌”

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚛. “𝚊𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝟻 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐”

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡. 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚙.

The typing bubble appears again, then disappears. Then again. Then—

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖

Your heart skips.

Which is stupid. Stupid. Because why? What about that message is even remotely heart-skipping-worthy? It’s a statement. A fact. A piece of information you didn’t ask for and definitely don’t care about.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢…? 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐???

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛

And, okay. That’s fine. That’s totally, completely normal information. He’s in the bathroom. On the second floor. You’re on the second floor. That’s fine.

So why does your stomach feel weird?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚌’𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚕𝚘𝚕 𝚗𝚘?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚕𝚘𝚕 𝚢𝚎𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚘 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑??

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚗𝚘 𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍

Your breath catches, pulse flickering against your throat.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎. 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 💀 

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚊𝚗𝚍?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚍𝚢𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍??? 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚘𝚔? 𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚘 𝚒???

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚖𝚑𝚖. 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚞 𝚍𝚘. 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚗𝚊 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚞 𝚍𝚘.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚗𝚊𝚑. 𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗 𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 🤨

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚗𝚒𝚡.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚛𝚘.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔

Your stomach tightens.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒’𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚘𝚠?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒’𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚞 𝚒𝚏 𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚔𝚢𝚜

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚗𝚊𝚑… 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚄𝙿

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎.

Your thighs press together under the table. Fuck.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚌𝚖𝚘𝚗, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚡𝚗𝚒𝚡

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚐

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚋𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚘𝚋

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚍

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚞

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

Your fingers flex around your phone, the heat creeping up your spine as your pulse stutters.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚖𝚑𝚖. 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

You swallow.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚗𝚊𝚑. 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚞 𝚛𝚗. 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞’𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙿𝙸𝙶

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚑?

You freeze.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗

Jason’s voice cuts through the heat simmering in your phone.

“You’re smiling.”

Your head snaps up. “Huh?”

Jason nods toward your phone, amusement playing at the edges of his lips. “Who’s got you so entertained? Boyfriend?”

You blink. Brain short-circuits for half a second before you manage, “What? No. Not at all.”

Jimin, the absolute menace, hums. “She wishes.”

Your foot connects with his shin under the table. Hard.

“Jesus—” He winces, rubbing his leg. 

Jason chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “So you’re single, then?”

His tone is casual. Smooth. Like he’s just making conversation, not fishing. But you see it. The way his gaze lingers just a little too long, like he’s waiting to gauge your reaction.

You shrug, feigning indifference even as your pulse betrays you. “Yeah.”

Jason’s smile widens slightly. “Interesting.”

Your phone dings again.

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕: 𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗?

Your jaw clenches. You exhale through your nose. Mutter a quiet, ‘motherfucker,’under your breath.

Jimin raises a brow. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shoot off a reply before you can overthink it.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘🖕

Then you lock your phone, shove it into your lap, and try to ignore the way your stomach flips.

goal: 250 notes

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @jkrailme @rpwprpwprpwprw @mar-lo-pap @jeontae @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[asidian]

Set breakdown time! Next up: Niko's room.

As before, I've circled the points of interest and numbered them to make them easier to talk about. Cool? Cool. Let's do this!

1: Niko's mom's name! This part is her and Niko's surname. The kanji are 佐々木.

佐 – sa, meaning help or aid

々 – an iteration mark. When you see this, basically it means "exactly what the last one said, one more time." So another sa meaning help or aid

木 – ki, meaning tree

It's really neat that they picked a last name for her that doubles down on her role in the narrative. Just like Niko is there to support and help other characters in whatever way they seem to need, her surname hammers it home by including 佐 not once but twice.

2: Riza (リザ) Niko's mother's given name. Somewhat odd here is that it's written in katakana and not kanji. Without getting sidetracked too much (you can pop over here to read more if you're interested) most Japanese people write their names in kanji.

Katakana seems like a bit of a strange choice here, unless a) Niko for some reason doesn't know the kanji for her own mother's name (weird, given that she's in high school) b) her mother is a foreigner (a possibility; foreigners usually write their names in katakana) c) the set designer/whoever prepped the letters didn't know the appropriate kanji for "Riza" (seems unlikely, given how accurate all the rest of this is) or d) some sort of personal habit. An interesting side note is that her letter to Niko also puts Niko's name in katakana.

3: Cutesy stationery, used for marking your place in a document or book

4: A cute blue purse!

5: Watermelon! Judging by the shiny material and placement near the other bag, I'm going to guess this is another purse

6: Niko's clothes :>

7: Pink luggage

8: Lots of instant noodles

9: A rice cooker

10: Rice vinegar

11: This girl LOVES her some plants

12: Probably food items…? The one on the right looks like it might be a five-pound bag of rice, but I don't recognize the brand

13: Lots of unwashed dishes

14: A toaster oven

15: Chopsticks

16: A cute octopus pillow. I think I saw someone mention that it's from Ikea :>

17: She often leaves dirty dishes sitting on the bedside table

18: A painting of what seems to be a skyscape

19: Brightly colored pillows

20: Metal art in the shape of a moon

21: A decorative window hanging

22: More plants :)

23: Candles

24: Her tv

25: Cute pens with pompoms on the end

26: Regular tape

27: A cute cat statue

28: Marble Pop Ramune, strawberry flavor. Ramune is a type of soda that's a popular festival drink in Japan. It's sealed with a  glass marble and you have to pop the marble down into the little catch basin before you can drink it.

29: Anime wall décor

30: Fruit jelly cups. In Japan, small gelatin based snacks like this are popular. They're tiny, about an inch tall, and you eat them in just one or two bites.

31: Niko's laptop. She has stickers on it

32: Washi tape! It's decorative Japanese tape, often with bright colors and patterns, used for crafting.

33: A lot of cute magnets, including the bunny one, which serves double-duty as a kitchen timer

34: Niko's grocery list. The only thing on here that's here because she wants it is strawberry ice cream. The rest of the items, licorice tea, manuka honey, and Epsom salts, are all natural remedies. She's been trouble-shooting how to get rid of the effects of the sprites. She knows she's sick, but not why

35: Cutesy craft supplies! Sequins, glitter, and pompoms

36: More washi tape!

37: Niko's manga collection. She is that particular brand of organizational mess that does not put her numbered volumes in order. She has made an exception for the series that makes a complete picture when you line them up, though

38: More plants :)

39: Manga posters! Issho is one of the series that she has on her shelf

40: A decorative jar

41: Little metal bird sculptures

42: What seems to be the only framed picture in her room. The angle is wrong to see what the photo is, but it's interesting that they added just one in here. Maybe it's her family…?

[morgansorgans-org]

Collection of nrmt/klpl fics!

An oomf on Instagram asked if I could compile all my favorite Ace Attorney fics! They are all and Wrightworth and Klapollo fics. The first few are my favorites (usually means they made me cry or emotionally impacted me 🧍) but I like all the others I linked here ofc as well! Many of these came from rec lists on tumblr, because that’s how I started out reading aa fics!

Wrightworth fics

Legal Partners by Miggy, 132k words, 34/34 chapters, 2013

Summary: Miles Edgeworth isn't totally sure how he ended up in this bet to demonstrate the strength of his and Phoenix Wright's (entirely professional and platonic! really!) relationship, but he knows it's Klavier's fault.

Absolutely one of my most favorite fics ever, I’m not gonna lie. Genuinely so good. I was clutching my phone the entire third act of the fic, absolutely ridden with anxiety. I read for 12 hours straight that third act, during exam season, eyes absolutely bloodshot and had a splitting headache by the end because I was staring at my phone for far too long. It’s so good.

I think my biggest qualm I have with this master class of a fic if I had to say, would probably be the characterization of Klavier? he feels too straight in this I don’t know how else to put it. But honestly it’s so minor I don’t really care and I’ve read this twice (which I never do)

Project Matchmakers by WingSongHalo, 126k words, 16/16 chapters, 2018

Summary: It was quite distressing, Pearl thought. For years previously, she had been quite fixated on the idea of her cousin and Mr. Nick living happily ever after. Even after she had accepted that this would never happen, she was always somewhat enamored of the idea that one of them would someday be caught up in a whirlwind romance, passionate and adventurous.

So she was rather surprised to find herself immensely enjoying the steady, familiar relationship she saw between a defense attorney and a prosecutor. It wasn't loud or flashy or wild, but calm and reliable and quiet. Rather than a blazing fire that consumed everything, theirs was an affection like a candle flame, bringing forth light and warmth.

Well, except for when they were in court. Then they were rather more like two overzealous flamethrowers.

An excitable group of girls (and a reluctant Apollo) team up to make Phoenix and Miles realize they're crazy about each other. But are such measures really necessary?

Canon universe.

Loved this one. Very good. I loved the side casefic it had and how it affected the main characters as well. I love the everyone ships wrightworth trope so much.

A Night You’ll Never Regret by MaudMoon (Idle_Wanderings), 88k words, 7/7 chapters, 2018

Summary: After learning about a clerical error on their wedding certificate, Maggey and Gumshoe decide to go all out and invite their friends and family to a vow renewal ceremony in Las Vegas. Edgeworth, spurred on by his sister's threats encouragements, decides to use the trip as an opportunity to express feelings he's been holding onto for years.

However when Edgeworth, Larry, and Phoenix wake up the morning after Gumshoe's bachelor party, it doesn't take them long to realize things didn't go as planned: Edgeworth's cards have been declined, Larry has been mysteriously injured, and Phoenix wakes up wearing a wedding ring. And, to top it all off, Gumshoe is missing. They'll need to rush against time to find Gumshoe before his wedding, and to do that they'll need to figure out what the hell exactly happened last night.

Soooo good! I love the mystery aspect of it all and everyone recounting and slowly piecing together what happened. It’s very sweet too and also kinda nsfw be warned…. also Maya x Rhoda was definitely not what I was expecting tbh

To play due process like a fiddle by Harmony, 19k words, 1/1 chapters, 2024

Summary: As far as Miles can tell, Agent Lang's initial impression of certified hot mess Phoenix "That Man" Wright upon their first meeting wasn't exactly the most positive, and tragically enough, it's not like Miles can really blame him for having that perception.

That said, they both probably should've known that Phoenix hadn't been named the Turnabout Terror for nothing.

(Or: what it means to judge solely based on first appearances and then have all of your expectations rocked off-balance, especially when they revolve around one of the most outstanding attorneys the criminal justice system has ever known).

Deeeeeelicious. So good. Love the tension between Phoenix and Lang and them essentially kinda fighting for Edgeworth even though it’s a very skewed battle against Lang. Aaaagh

A fool in love (with you) by gen, 17k words, 1/1 chapters, 2016

Summary: Miles and Phoenix (finally, no really, after two years of being engaged) decide to tie the knot. On the day of the wedding, they are reminded of all the moments that got them there.

Sooooo cute! This one helped inspire me for my last chapter of my own wrightworth fic actually! This author actually wrote a klapollo long fic I’ve been meaning to check out actually, called The Sound of Silence. I’ve been scared off by how heavy the warnings of the angst ahead are ngl. But this one shot in contrast is very fluffy and sweet!

A Beginner’s Guide on how Not to Write Steel Samurai Fanfiction by chameleonwrites, 16k words, 6/6 chapters, 2021

Summary: Verity Baytum, a court stenographer, has a secret passion for writing Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. When she finds an unlikely source of inspiration during her job, she can't help but watch court proceedings in search of further lines that fit her fics.

Miles Edgeworth, said source of inspiration, has a secret passion for reading Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. It doesn't take long for him to realise the reason the characters sound like him and Wright is not due to personal projection.

I really liked this one, it’s very funny and sweet. I also realized this fic kind of predicted the name Verity for an AA character…

Yours, Mine, and Maybe Ours by estelraca, 13k words, 1/1 chapters, 2015

Summary: Phoenix convinces Miles to bring Trucy in with him for Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, despite Miles' misgivings. Everything becomes even more complicated when Kay Faraday and Shi-Long Lang call on him for assistance. Set between the original trilogy and Apollo Justice; mild spoilers for both Investigations games.

Loved this one! I really like any fics with Trucy as a bigger character (wow who knew look at all my SNS accounts with trucy pfps) especially ones that delve deeper into her relationship between her and Edgeworth.

The Prosecution Rests by Commander_Freddy, 4k words, 1/1 chapters, 2016

Summary: Miles Edgeworth goes to bed, and then wakes up.

Very good. Short but impactful and angsty and sweet. Commander Freddy has some other very good AA fics you should check out also.

Archeology by sunsmasher, 8k words, 1/1 chapters, 2014

Summary: Phoenix and Maya finally clean out Mia's office. Far, far too many people help.

Very short but very good. Deals with Mia grief and also has side Wrightworth content.

To Their Happiness by ,,,,, 41k words, 10/10 chapters, 2024

Summary: Trucy Wright sees that her daddy's friend, Miles Edgeworth, makes him happy in a way she can't. She knows he's sad and lonely, despite trying his best to hide it from her. She makes a promise to herself that she would try to have Miles around as often as she could, for his happiness.

Or, an evolution of Wrightworth's relationship through Trucy's eyes. Trucy and co. sees Phoenix and Miles feel that special way that adults feel for each other and tries to matchmake them. It's mostly Trucy doing that, though.

teehee. you think I wouldn’t go without promoting my OWN fic? you thought wrong!!! I’m also working on a Klapollo fic (it’s like 37k words so far) but I’ll be lucky if it gets uploaded by the end of 2024 with the pace I’m writing it at. It’s so close to completion though…

Klapollo fics

Hot for Justice by indirectkissesiniceland, 43k words, 26/26 chapters, 2013

Summary: After the events of State v. Misham, Klavier finds himself in a slump, stressed at the prosecutor's office and unable to pen new songs. To his surprise, he finds creative inspiration—and unexpected feelings—spending time with Apollo. Now if only he could release the new tracks without raising any suspicion as to whom his love songs are for.

God, is there a klapollo fic rec list without Hot for Justice on it? It’s such a classic, and rightfully so. This fic also inspired me as well to write my next fic! It’s just this good.

Vacation All I Wanted by JJsADragon, 111k words, 24/24 chapters, 2020

Summary: “A vacation?” Apollo asked.

“Yeah! You know what a vacation is, right Polly? When are you going to get another opportunity like this? A beach vacation? A pool? It’s not like you could afford this place without splitting the cost.”

One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong?

This fic is like. A need I go on? Moment. It’s so iconic and good. This along with Legal Partners probably permanently organized my brain chemistry, I think. Good god the angst. The fluff. this fic genuinely made me sob which. A book hasn’t done that to me in a very long time! there’s a scene where Apollo talks about grief and that was very relatable. This fic also does breach the subject of suicidal ideation, but it is brief. In general this is a lighthearted fic!

If it’s really me you seek by seamint, 83k words, 21/21 chapters, 2021

Summary: “Anyway,” Ema keeps going, fully ignoring his sarcasm in favor of staring at a neat corner where the walls meet the ceiling. “I asked if he wanted to go to your party together, but he said he wasn’t going.”

“What?” Apollo suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. “Why?”

“Hell if I know,” Ema says nonchalantly, but then she turns to him with a smirk. “See if you can figure it out: I believe he told me, and I quote—ahem—'Ach, I would, Fräulein, but I believe Herr Justice would be more comfortable without me there.’”

Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.

It’s been a hot minute since I read this one (one of the first klapollo fics I read) but this one was veryyy good. Very much inspired me. Honestly all of Seamint’s stuff is good.

And if all my wishes could come true by seamint, 45k words, 8/8 chapters, 2022

Summary: “‘Our son’ my ass. You’re getting way too into this,” Apollo grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Is this your dream? Do you dream of being divorced and paying alimony, Gavin?”

Klavier doesn’t tell him that as far as dreams go, his is to live in a world where a relationship with Apollo, past tense or otherwise, is at all possible. Apollo doesn’t need specifics, or terrible confessions in vet clinics that show how badly Klavier wants to play pretend with him.

Or, Klavier, Apollo, and how cats bring people together in the most convoluted ways possible.

Looove this. Very fluffy. Mikeko being the center of attention as well and that’s of course why we’re reading this who cares abt klapollo frrr

Turnabout Dungeons (and Dragons) by Synthpop, 170k words, 33 chapters, 2016

Summary: According to Mr. Wright, Dungeons and Dragons is good, if not crucial, for cultivating trusting relationships between friends and coworkers. Apollo has his doubts.

So goood. I love D&D and Klapollo and this is the perfect mix of this. Bard klavier, paladin apollo, need I go on? Phoenix is the dungeon master and Ema, Trucy, Athena and Simon are also apart of the party as well

can I go where you go by parchmints, 40k words, 6/6 chapters, 2021

Summary: Apollo Justice has rotten luck: he actually wins the grand prize for a mail-in contest, but It's a couple's getaway to a fancy ski lodge in the mountains and Apollo is aggressively single. With no one to go with, Apollo offers them to Klavier since surely, a rockstar would be able to find a date before then, but Klavier has a better idea—they go together and pretend they're a couple. That way, they both get a vacation, plus free food and wine.

And well, Apollo's never been one to pass up free food.

So good!!! There’s some wonderful art in this one as well!! I remember being super hooked by this one and giggling over the fake dating stuff. Loved it

Things are as they are by hechima, 34k words, 3/3 chapters, 2021

Summary: Klapollo cabin fic. That's really all this is.

Need I say more? Yes, two cabin fic recs back to back. One cabin in the snow and the other in some desert. Loved the character analysis in this one.

Gravity by Euphorion, 46k words, 7/7 chapters, 2014

Summary: In the aftermath of his brother's arrest, Klavier is trying to balance his law career and a solo music career, with some success—but with less savory consequences as well. His fans are fixating on every aspect of his life, desperate for his attention and jealous of his relationships with the people around him. They've singled out his courtroom rival, Apollo Justice, as the target of their frustrations.

hooo boy this one is pretty angsty in a way. Lots of things going on in this one. We have some crazy Gavinners fans in this, endangerment of lives, stalking, mail… it’s a bit dark but very engaging!

It’s all that I am and all that I have by eternalmagic, 58k words, 12/12 chapters, 2016

Summary: Apollo sucks in a breath, attempting to steel his nerves. Should he honestly send this...? He doesn't even know who this man is. This is a huge, huge mistake. But, even so, he hits send before he can remind himself of how awful an idea this is.

Dear You,

I think I love you. Just wanted you to know.

From,

Me

Klavier's phone pings with an email notification, and the moment he reads it, the smile fades from his face. God, this was so much easier when he didn't know that the sender hated him in real life.

[ or, the you've got mail au. ]

Sooo good! I’ve never watched the movie before, and honestly, you don’t have to. It’s very engaging and oh my goddd the angst you have to get through to get to the fluff…. So worth it.

Anyway, Here’s Guilty Love by u_andcloud, 129k words, 22/22 chapters

Summary: The entirety of Ivy U is smitten with Klavier Gavin—with one exception. Apollo Justice could do without Klavier’s constant presence in the quad, where he serenades passerby with acoustic versions of his band's songs. Apollo is also not particularly fond of Klavier’s clothes, his hair, his tendency to sprinkle German into his conversations, or the fact that, despite all of this, Klavier is still at the top of the class.

So when Klavier asks Apollo to help him start a club for aspiring lawyers on campus, Apollo isn’t entirely sure why he accepts. It’s a resume builder, he tells himself. It’s not like he has to like the guy.

Except, well....he's starting to think that he might.

[Or, a simple college AU turned AA4 re-imagining.]

AHHHHH. College AU fic set in Ivy U. In AU fics like these, I’m always interested in how the author will deal with Kristoph, considering his story is so intertwined with both Apollo and Klavier. This fic did it so well and seamlessly my goddd. I loved it.

Undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward) by experimentaldragonfire, 59k words, 11/11 chapters, 2020

Summary: Kristoph Gavin is found dead in his prison cell, and Klavier Gavin is the prime suspect.

With nobody else available to defend him, Apollo Justice flies in from Khura'in to take the case--but during the course of the trial and its aftermath, long-hidden secrets come to light.

I looove Klavier being suspected of murder fics. They executed this concept very well. I know abt experimentaldragonfire as they were one of the hosts for the klapollo minibang (2024) I was apart of! Their writing is indeed, fire. Check out their other fics as well!

Apollo Justice: Between the Cases by joggingoctopus, 84k words, 18/18 chapters, 2023

Summary: What happened between cases in the Apollo Justice game? Here's one way things could have played out!

A retelling of apollo Justice, kind of! I really liked how the author explained some of the stuff in Ace Attorney, and it will go into my personal AA belief system I think. They also have a sequel fic which I’ve yet to read bc im very scared! (Clay things)

Delicate by ronsenberg, 30k words, 5/5 chapters, 2020

Summary: Everything about the situation is wrong, from the suitcase in Apollo’s arms to the blaring of car horns from the cars waiting behind him. It doesn’t matter. “I have been thinking-” he starts, voice faltering. It is very unlike him to be at such a loss for words, but he has never found himself in a situation quite like this before. “Ach, wondering, really-”

Apollo raises his brow, glancing at the digital clock on the dash and back into Klavier’s eyes in quick succession. “Klavier, my flight-”

“-Marry me?” The words come out in a rushed and poorly articulated interruption. Apollo blinks, his mouth falling slightly open in surprise. “When you come back, ja? Marry me.”

A Post-Spirit of Justice Proposal fic.

As of writing this right now, I just finished this fic so it’s very fresh in my memory! I really liked it! The way they wrote what would most likely be a realistic depiction of Klapollo if it were to happen in real life. It has all the downs and lows and the highs that you’d expect in a realistic relationship.

Glowing embers dying fire by virtualmushroom, 88k words, 20/20 chapters, 2023

Summary: Klavier has a crush on Apollo and he makes that abundantly clear.

Apollo, however, is oblivious and takes Klavier's enamored flirting for simple teasing. After all, why would a famous prosecutor rockstar come to like an "average" guy like him?

Despite that, Apollo comes to unlearn the preconception he has of Klavier and see beyond his mask, into the person he really is, someone not as cheerful as he may appear.

An also realistic in-canon depiction of Klapollo I really like! This was also written by my good friend!

Words Come Fluently by ItsyRoyal, 50k words, 12/12 chapters, 2021

Summary: Klavier Gavin is the most famous rockstar in the world. Guilty Love is about to go platinum and the tour sold out fourteen stadiums. So there's really, really no reason why one anonymous music critic on Youtube who hates him should get under his skin. And yet somehow he'd do just about anything to convince MikekoMusic to like him.

Apollo has been doing Youtube as a fun side hustle while he tries to break into the talent management industry, and he's just landed an assistant gig working for Kristoph Gavin. Whose main client is his golden boy younger brother. Whose music Apollo has been anonymously trashing for years.

Yeah, this is all going to go fine.

auuuuuuuuuuugh oh my god the DRAMA in this. Really good. The best part about this is the reassurance of no murders and clay BEING ALIVE!! I love clay alive fics, esp if they’re of him reacting to Klapollo.

Mission Control by ForeheadandFop, 12k words, 1/1 chapters, 2015

Summary: Like any good friend, Clay takes an interest in Apollo's career; he can't help it if the most interesting part is Klavier.

Loved this as well. Very good. It fulfills my needs of clay reacting to klapollo as mentioned above but however. This is canon compliant….🧍happy ending though …

I think that’s it for my list for recommendations! Sorry a lot of them are long fics 😭😭

[aangarchy]

Anyway because avatar studios is planning a new animated series on the new earth avatar after Korra, i won't ever continue writing the story of my OC earth avatar so here's his story summed up (mind you i started writing this in 2014, after korra ended, before the kyoshi novels, i have the proof on my laptop to back this up, the manuscript's original date is 2014. so no, i did not steal the "avatar is an orphan and therefore no one knows who the avatar is" from the kyoshi novels, my work was never published, not even on fanfic websites so it is purely a coincidence my 15yr old brain came up with the same idea of FC Yee)

Main character is Shen (originally Chang but stopped liking that name in 2019) born in Ba Sing Se, dropped off the door of a non bender couple when he was two months old. Shen grows up thinking he is a non bender. The adoptive parents have one biological daughter after Shen, the father ends up being a dead beat and leaves when Shen is 9

Because his adoptive parents are non benders, they find out Shen's an earth bender embarrassingly late, when he's 14

Shen's family lives in the lower ring and can't really afford actual earth bending lessons, so they rely on their kind neighbor who is a farmer, and teaches Shen the basics

One night, Shen's mother forgets to put out a candle. Shen discovers this when he goes downstairs for some water. As he goes to snuff the candle, he realizes it grew as he got closer. He played around with the flame, and ended up holding the fire in his hands. He then runs outside to the farmland in the outer ring where he trains earthbending, where no one can see him, and firebends. This way he discovers he is the avatar at age 15

Shen keeps this a secret. He does not want to be the avatar. He fears if he reveals himself, powerful people from all around the world will try to take him away from his family, and try to push their political agenda on him. He mainly fears the Earth King, who's been causing political tension with the Northern Watertribe and Fire Nation since he inherited the throne, and has been "unifying" the Earth Kingdom whilst simultaneously taking land from the Fire Nation and Watertribe.

The absence of the avatar made these tensions worse, the king has been desperately trying to find the avatar and hasn't gotten anywhere. The Fire Nation and Watertribe think the king is incompetent and want to start the search themselves, but the king won't allow it. Even the air nomads are trying to get the king to allow them to search, but he refuses.

At age 16 Shen, his mother and sister move away from Ba Sing Se to a small harbor town in the southern Earth Kingdom. Shen starts a new school and meets a boy named Yahno, who's father hails from the Northern Watertribe, but his mother is from Republic City. He also meets Ji-min, and airnomad girl who is a descendant of avatar Aang. They moved to the town because her mother was banished from the Eastern Airtemple. At school he meets a girl named Chō, a firebender that has Earth Kingdom nationality and likes to dye her hair bright red.

The friends tell him about their classmate Uma. She was adopted, no one knows her actual birthday. She is an exceptional earthbender, which is why she believes she is the next avatar. She treats it as fact, and uses the title to hold power over others. During their first PE lessons (where benders are encouraged to train their elements) she bullies Shen about his lackluster earthbending skills

Shen and Yahno go sailing with Yahno's waterbender dad, who takes them out of the bay in the open ocean, however they are taken by surprise by a storm. Shen accidentally activates the Avatar state on instinct and saves them from drowning. Yahno and his dad vow to keep Shen's secret, as they know what the Earth King would do to get his hands on him.

The king declares a final nationwide search for the avatar. The earth king is a truth seer (Toph's ability to detect lies), he decides to use this ability because he suspects the Avatar knows their own identity and is hiding it. Shen tries to half truth his way out, but ultimately fails due to a trick the king pulled on him, making him firebend in front of everyone. Shen gets revealed to the king, and with that the world.

Firelord Kaen, who recently ascended the throne after the untimely death of his father at age 19, meets the young Avatar in secret. Shen is apprehensive, which Kaen understands. They end their conversation with mutual appreciation, since both are teenagers in position of power.

Shen starts his Avatar training. When he enters the spirit world through Republic City's portal for the first time he finally meets Korra, and she has to sheepishly admit to Shen that she'll be his only guide. There's no connection to any of the other past lives due to the new cycle.

Shen has the most trouble learning waterbending. He doesn't know how to let his emotions flow like water, which is blocking him from getting a true feeling for the element. He masters earth, fire and air relatively quickly, but water refuses to budge for him.

This is about as far as I got writing wise. In the second half of the story a time skip was planned so Shen would be a young adult instead of a teen. He'd get badly hurt during an assassination attempt at age 18 (airship he was on got blown up) and go missing for five years making people believe he's dead and thus reborn in the firenation. He joins a pirate crew bc he has amnesia after getting badly wounded, but once he regains his memory as he's healed he keeps his identity secret again. That is until he literally sees the earth king attack the fire nation and he reveals himself to his pirate friends and contacts his old friends to take down the earth king. Also a romance of sorts would develop between Shen and Kaen (which is another reason for the timeskip lol like an 18yr old and a 21yr old sounds weirder than a 23yr old and a 26yr old idk) then i'd explore the complications of an Avatar, who's supposed to be neutral and unbiased, falling in love with a leader of one of the four nations.

Either way i was never gonna finish this story anyway bc i suck at thinking of complex political plotlines and problems for the avatar to solve to include in my story lmao. I do have some chapters that are finished writing wise but they're not in order bc I'm the type of writer that just writes the chapter they want to write without caring where it takes place in the story, which admittedly isn't a great strategy but eh it's not like I'm a published writer, it's mostly for my own enjoyment

[b1adie]

looking into it i think yingxing would have been fire hunt. he’s hunt for sure considering his main thing was hatred of abominations of abundance anyway but he was trained by huaiyan who is known as ‘the flaming heart’ on the zhuming. people and heliobi hang out together there. flint emperor is there. they use the flint emperor’s flame to forge weapons. the forge is called flamedisk forge. lots of fire stuff. so if he learned there he should be fire element. also makes sense with blade’s trailer showing that he is the single candle still lit despite the rest having gone out. would be cool if he had bluish/teal fire bc heliobi and whatnot.

i was gonna say something about how his skill could be him like heating up his sword as one would to forge it (but not THAT hot obviously) and now im thinking about how with blade’s skill he turns his sword from black to red? he is forging that thing. also crazy that that sword weighs like 4000lbs and he launched it through the air like a frisbee and dan heng got impaled with it and hardly even stumbled. how strong are these guys. OOOH or yingxing could have a FLAMETHROWERRR thing. he made awesome shit and everyone loved him ok? i know he’s never going to be playable as old man furnace master yingxing but i am just imagining if he was… hehe. arrogant craftsman. god they need to let me see/hear more of him like that. I WANT TO SEE OTHER WEAPONS HE MADE I WANT TO SEE HIM SMILE AND BE PROUD AND ANNOYING!!!!!! OLD MAN NOW!!!!!!

anyways fire/hunt yingxing. imaginary/hunt would be cute and fire/destruction makes sense too and obviously most characters playable paths dont line up with their actual beliefs but idc he seems very hunt to me. i miss him. you guys remember when he said “be careful, high elder, lest you hurt yourself with it.” that was some crazy shit. show me geriatric bladie again pleeeease. blade companion mission better be 6 hours long and at least 100k words and 2 cinematics. i’ll wait. give me his life story all 800 years of it. well i guess that’d be like

age 0-7: love my family. sure hope the beasts don’t arrive!

age 8-15: beasts ate my planet. went somewhere else they are teaching me shit here

age 16-30: i am the best at the shit i was taught. idc that everyone is rude to me about it cuz they can be rude but they can’t beat meeeee 😋

age 31-70: im still the best and now i’m hanging out with my immortal friends yay :) they’re all going to outlive me but that’s for the best i think. Right guys?

age 71-800: Ow ow ow ouch ow. Where the fuck am i btw & who the fuck am i as well. Oh well guess ill stick a branch in my hair

age 801+: kidnapped by robot and woman but it’s fine. girl keeps asking me to play games with her even though i tell her i’m busy cutting my hand off each and every day. beast upon my shoulder saying ‘Meow’ frequently. unsure of the implications of this. robot here sometimes. i like it. woman tells me to stop foaming at the mouth so i do because i respect women. except ONE OF THEM. (can’t remember which one right now). branch growing from my stomach again. not my problem. i will be taking a week long nap now.

but i want 6 hours and 100k words of it with pictures and voice acting as proof.

[hoodedjelly]

you're human designs are soooo cute and pretty, can I ask what their height and ages are supposed to be?

i never really think of height tooo much while designing, i just roughly make it "this one is taller then this one because that's how it is in canon". but i don't use the canon height differences to a tea cause they are WAY too drastic..

for ages though, while i still need to think about them more (I'll prob rewatch ii another time to be sure). i do have a rough idea of all of their ages. i feel like an obvious one that's "age coded" is teapot, she is 10000% an older lady in her 40s or 50s. but other characters that i think are 30+ are silver spoon, candle, cabby, cobs, mephone and mepad (those are kinda iffy since their robots, it's more like mental age). there's prob more but i can't think of any. the way i actually think of season one is that all of the contestants are teens, very mixed from young teens to older teens. like, i think s1 knife is around 16/17 while i think s1 lightbulb is like 13/14. i made a drawing of it actually that I'm gonna finish later, but here's a wip.

then they become adults in season 2, while the new contestants are also adults (except cherry i think they're a kid I'm sorry). but they still have different ages, like i think mic is younger 18-20 while people like cheesy is like late 20s

i say all of this but i don't actively think of age a lot while drawing designs, WHICH I SHOULD MORE. but i also don't draw the characters that i actually think are older or younger then their 20s so oops

[apocalypse-shuffle]

VALENTINO & VOX | ⅔ of THE VEES (Hazbin Hotel)

—

“Live Demonstration” (Valentino & Fem!Reader & Vox)

| After constantly fighting their authority Vox sends you to watch an execution in order to scare you into submission; Valentino couldn’t make your situation any worse if he tried.

| SFW, 16+, non-romantic, no polyamory, non-sexual, canon typical violence & gore, (TW: descriptions of a brutal death, Valentino, but no seriously the Vees kind of are their own trigger warning in this fandom), this shit is mean

| A branch-off oneshot from this post (an imagine), but can also be read as a stand-alone.

| Pic source: Hazbin Hotel S1

| 1k+ words

⚠︎ I DO NOT ENDORSE VIVZIEPOP (& associated parties) but I did watch the show and wanted to write for it , so idk ⚠︎

You’re still standing, rooted in place with your gaze stuck on the singular severed finger that managed to survive the feeding frenzy. It’s the only thing in the tank you can still see at all; the clear water had gone a red so thick you couldn’t see any of the sharks except for when one of their fins grazed the glass.

Everything around you feels staticy like it hasn’t since you first spawned in Hell trapped in a body completely foreign to you. Being forced to function with misshapen limbs like a bird thrown from the nest didn’t hold a candle to this shit though.

The speakers lined high along the walls around you come to life.

“Are you finally finished with wasting our time with your fruitless escape attempts?”

Vox’s voice booms unavoidably through the room, every decibel of his lax tone overflowing the floor of the tower you’re on and flooding your brain to the brim.

Where your arms are crossed your hands wrapped around your forearms tighten.

He sounds less like he just ordered a man to be eaten alive right before you and more like he’s booking a frivolous appointment for a wife he can’t stand, put upon sigh and all.

A few moments pass where the hopes you had for escape and revenge fall to pieces at your feet. Directly afterward you blink away the veil of red in front of you and look up to nod at one of the dozens of cameras around you.

“I’ll be needing verbal agreement, actually,” he drawls, voice still loud enough to vibrate your internal biological systems.

The grip you have on yourself is starting to ache.

“Yes, Vox. No more escape attempts, you’ve made your point.”

The camera you're talking to is as unfeeling as ever but you’d take the clinical paranoia of constant observation over a personal visit from Vox any day. You knew how quickly he could get to you and you did not want to tempt him.

“I sure hope so,” he mutters, voice cutting and snide, before his voice animates for the first time since he began speaking; show host cadence coming out in full force. “Glad we could finally come to such a beneficial agreement for us both!” He cuts the act then, tone mellowing, “Now, try not to do anything too drastic, I’ll be needing her for a presentation in an hour. Otherwise I don’t care what you get up to.”

He clicks off, the speakers going dead once more.

With a clipped breath you glance around the room after his final warning, brows furrowing.

That hadn’t been for you.

What you find after turning around makes you stiffen and the sinner to blame grins at you from where he’s leaning inside the door frame, all four arms crossed over his torso.

You blink, face dropping as his name falls like stone from your mouth. “Valentino.”

One of his bottom hands lifts so he can wave his fingers at you and then he’s pushing off the door to saunter closer. His steps are too deliberate for you not to rock back on your heels where you stand.

He sighs, this airy melodramatic thing that doesn’t sway you to him one bit. As if your personal interest was of any actual concern to him though.

“Voxy’s so mean sometimes, isn’t he? Forcing you to watch all this.” Stopping beside you he casts a disgusted look at the bloody water that managed to spill over around the sides of the tank. The sight of it makes you shiver and Valentino looks at you, his mouth flipping into a frown as he reaches out to clasp a dainty hand atop your shoulder.

His eyes are sparkling when they meet your own though, and his grip is too firm. Even his body is commandeering too much of your space despite his slender figure.

A thick perfume permeates from his glands that you’d probably find pleasant smelling in another context, tangy and sweet as it is; it’s similar to how you never once found the sound of CPU fans whirling unpleasant until being around Vox long enough to equate it as the precursor to his patience waning and his ire compounding right before he ordered something drastic and sadistic. Or how the staccato clack of heels never used to make you start cataloging exits till you met Velvette and her fatal storm of demands for absolute perfection and unrelenting need to snuff out her competition.

His thumb digs harshly into the edge of your shoulder blade.

“Pobrecita,” Valentino coos, his other upper arm coming up so that he can press his fingers into your cheek and force you to keep your gaze on him. His thumb swipes through the tacky tear line running from your eye and he clicks his tongue. “He’s too harsh sometimes. Personally I wouldn’t have put these pretty tears to waste, but you know how Vox is. Too much machine, not enough man.”

He talks like you’re friends. Like his platitudes do you any favors. Valentino and Vox are similar in that way; rarely did their delivery ever match the situation or social cues of the moment. Velvette was often the same but after your internet beef a few days back she’d grown bored of you and moved on. As of now her chats with you had mellowed into something that could be seen as amicable out of context even.

With you successfully cowed you suspected Vox would soon do the same, only bothering with you when he had need of you.

Valentino however….

You watch the way he abandons the frown to let his grin curl back over glossed lips and something in your gut tightens.

Looking up at another one of Vox’s cameras from over his shoulder is useless but you do it anyway. There was no doubt in your mind that he was watching, just knowledge that sat like a weight in your gut that he sure as shit wouldn’t be your savior.

“It’s okay to admit you were scared, you know?” His smile hitches a little higher and his antennae twitch. “Were you scared? Did the little bug's death hurt your feelings?”

His words make you rankle.

“I’m fine,” you ground out.

The Overlord scoffs like you’ve said something absurd and suddenly it’s as if yellow wallpaper shifts in your peripheral.

Black, and female, and delusional— hysterical; that’s what you’d be now if he did something to you and you went crying around about it, nevermind that your dark ever-shackled flesh had been ripped from your core and replaced with something more demonic, you hadn’t been a patron of Hell long enough for your human mind to corrode entirely. And you were yet again unfairly bondaged regardless.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” in an instant his grin turns from placating to harsh as his expression storms over, “I like that you’re scared. Vox gets so sexy when he puts his foot down, but you? You get a bit unremarkable, if I’m being honest.”

He flicks one of his lower hands, rolling his eyes.

“You glaze over like a wet cat. Hm, Miedosa? Those tears weren’t only from frustration were they?” He shakes his head. “If you felt so bad, why didn’t you go in there and save them then?”

The hand on your cheek shifts to grip both sides of your jaw. He shakes your head, fingers tight as they grind into your teeth through your skin and leave an ache that swiftly travels through the rest of your face and settles.

He regards you coolly, the way one might an ant.

“Nothing? Alright, I’ll tell you why,” he purrs, eyes going lidded as he leans in, “it’s because you’re our bitch now. And bitches do as they’re told.”

For a second all you do is gape, eyes wide and mouth open as much as his grip will allow. That doesn’t last awfully long.

Soon after you’re sneering wordlessly up at him, hands balling at your sides so harshly they tremble.

Valentino chuckles, dark and coiling and somehow just as all encompassing in your brain’s real estate as Vox’s voice over the intercom had been.

“I can’t wait to ruin you,” he whispers, eyes burning through you as he racks his gaze over your face before he’s pulling away and walking off without another word.

You hear him say something ridiculous to Travis from the hallway but it doesn’t alienate the tension strung through you like a live wire and for over a half hour you stare, face void of expression, into the closed door he’d come through until Vox calls for you.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!

I— deeply apologize for Valentino, I do. My little blurb with him kind of got away from me if I’m being honest, but I’m not even kind of mad at it.

Also, I’m almost completely sure that my use of Pobrecito/a is correct (I’ve had it said to me for years, I just had to look up the spelling), but my use of Miedosa I’m not as sure about. I wanted to post this now, but I will be changing shit accordingly once I get “outside consultation”. Either way I’m not a Spanish speaker so don’t take me as a source.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Spanish words of the day (how they were used in this fic): “Pobrecita” - poor baby.

“Miedosa” - Scaredy Cat; Coward.

Alt. Banner (scrapped) —

[fuckyeselucien]

Creator Highlight #16 - @shadowisles-writes

Today we’d like to highlight @shadowisles-writes. Shadowisles is a true treasure in the Elucien side of the fandom. She’s both a talented writer and a beloved friend to many. If you get a chance to talk to her, her wit comes through with her quick sense of humor and her top tier takes on every character. 

A true master fic writer, shadowisles has written 44 ACOTAR fics, including 18 Elucien fics! Equal parts sweet and spicy, she will have you giggling and kicking your feet in one fic and blushing in the next.  Her writing is the kind that you can’t peel your eyes away from, whether you’re reading about Elain and Lucien fighting over the best study seat in her academia series or canon Elain following Lucien all the way to the Day Court. Every fic is a treat that leaves you craving more! 

Below are a few favorites, but you’ll want to read all the fics on her masterlist, here! 

So Long, London 

"You swore that you loved me but where were the clues, I died on the altar waiting for the proof."

After the war with Hybern, Elain is welcome back into Graysen Nolan's estate to marry him. Elated to live the life she dreamed of, Elain learns to glamour herself to fit in among the humans of their village. Unable to keep away on her wedding day, Lucien paces outside until the very last moment he can interrupt to beg her to reconsider, except the scene he walks into is anything but a wedding.

I’m With You 

Without the urgency of war looming over Prythian, Elain begins to question if the Night Court is where she belongs. Her mate travelling at will between courts and the human lands fills her with the longing to accompany him. Except being alone with Lucien in the Day Court means confronting conflicting feelings, which only get more complicated as secrets and threats to her safety emerge.

Or: the one time the lyrics "And if you need a light, I’ll be the match to your candle, my darling," made me daydream about Day Court Elucien for weeks.

Tethered 

Elain moves to university after the semester has already started and finds herself stuck outside in the cold after the fire alarm goes off in her building. Lucky for her, a red haired neighbor is willing to share his blanket, and a lot more than that too.

Want to nominate someone? Fill out the form HERE.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 16)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: eh. i dont know.

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Meeting was a fancy word for revel, really.

All the High lords were drinking and laughing among themselves in groups of twos and threes after they had returned a few moments ago.

They had gone off to a small room nearby along with their inner circles and guards to discuss whatever it was that high lords discussed. Eris had not wanted to leave Y/n's side, a muscle feathering in his jaw when he had left without her, his fists clenched.

But he had not left without glaring at every male in the ball room.

Y/n hid her smile behind her glass, taking a small sip of the fruity wine as she thought back to the way everyone had shrunk into themselves at his gaze.

Without even realising, Y/n's eyes began searching for that familiar head of fiery hair, and she found him standing next to the high lord of the summer court, nodding along as he spoke.

But he was already staring straight at her.

The heat from the bodies that pressed up against each other and danced around the floor would never compare to the heat that spread through Y/n when her eyes met his.

She shot back the rest of the wine, only to realise there was nothing left. Sighing, she stared into the depths of her cup, and the last dregs of the wine stared back.

When she lifted her head, Eris was no longer next to Tarquin, who was now smiling at something his cousin said.

Y/n's brow furrowed, and, huffing, she turned to make her way to the refreshments table to get herself more wine. Because, after she found Eris staring at her, she knew she was nowhere near drunk enough to get through another evening of longing glances and tenson filled words.

But she was met with a wall of muscled chest right in front of her face. So close she had to stumble back to take a breath.

"What the hell?"

Eris mouth was a cruel slash of a smirk as he surveyed her, the light from the majestic chandeliers made of faelights and candles reflecting in his eyes.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" Not exactly what Y/n had wanted to say, but she hardly said anything she wanted to these days. So this was not a surprise. It was as if her brain stopped working whenever he was near.

Leaning his shoulder against the wall, he sighed dramatically. Turning his head, he let his gaze sweep the huge chamber, resting for a moment on the orchestra that played a fast paced song. "And here I thought you missed me."

Y/n scowled, though she doubted he could see it. "What are you here for Eris? Is there something you wanted to say? Or are you here just to be dramatic?"

His smirk only widened as he glanced at her, and she huffed. "Do you know how to dance?"

Y/n blinked, deflating a little as she pondered the almost nonchalant question. "Yes." She mumbled quietly, studying his posture, wondering what his intentions were. "I had to learn and become good at it."

He nodded. "I don't."

He seemed to be lost in thought as he said, as if he had not intended for he words to slip but he had spoken them aloud instead of just thinking them.

"You don't?"

Eris glanced at her, shrugging. Y/n's gaze caught on his goblet as he did so, and she wondered if it would be okay to snatch it and down it herself.

"I wanted to learn, but I did not have time to. Will you... teach me?"

Y/n blinked, her neck warming. "Me?"

He nodded matter-of-factly. "You get to dance so you don't get bored, and I learn to dance. It's nothing more than a transaction."

She felt an unexplainable twinge of hurt in her chest at that, and she pushed it aside. Taking a deep breath, she ran her hand along her skirts for the millionth time that evening as she nodded. "Alright."

Eris straightened, his eyes widening just a fraction. There was a glint in his eyes she could not identify, but before she could decipher it, he spoke. "Really?"

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his goblet. And then, without thinking or considering the fact that it could be a stronger beverage, tossed it back and swallowed.

She regretted it immediately.

Sputtering at the weird taste of the drink that was definitely not the fruity wine she had been drinking, she stared at the goblet in her hand in disgust. "What the hell was that?"

"That was whiskey." Y/n's head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at him when she found him grinning. "This is why you don't steal someone else's drink."

She scowled, shoving the glass into his chest and turning away, trying to swallow the weird taste. It was no help.

She took a few steps away, wondering why she was getting so pissed over nothing. When she realised she was pushing through the crowd and he wasn't even following her, she turned to glare at him over her shoulder.

That was enough to scare him as he hurried to keep pace with her.

Standing on the edge of the dance floor, Y/n released a breath, trying to let loose the side that had adored dancing.

It had been the only time where she could not worry about being offensive without meaning to, could stop worrying about which court cockroach her father would marry her off to.

The previous song came to an end too soon for Y/n's comfort, and she took a deep breath before turning to look at Eris. He stared back at her. And then, his lips curling at the edges as he offered her his hand. She placed her hand in his, and instantly her heartbeat seemed to calm down.

In the back of her mind, she noted that he had discarded of his goblet somewhere.

He led her onto the dance floor with the grace and efficiency of a dancer who had danced for centuries, totally at odds with his statement of not knowing to dance.

As if feeling her skepticism, he slowed his pace down, glancing at her uncertainly. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his eyes sparkled.

He stopped and turned fully to face her, his brows lifting a little.

"What if you step on my toes?"

He tried to pout. Special emphasis on tried. "I won't."

Y/n sighed, then guided one of his hands to her waist. It tightened instantly.

She glanced at him for a moment, and found a subtle blush on his cheeks, though it could just have been the lightning playing tricks on her.

"So... Now what?"

Eris questioned once the fae around the two of them had begun dancing to the new tune. It also did not go unnoticed by Y/n that they maintained a little distance from Eris and her.

"Now we dance. Just follow me, I guess."

•○🌑○•

She let her body relax as the music picked up again after the applause from the audience died down. She could see the nervousness mixing with something in Eris's eyes.

The music that flowed through the ballroom was a soft but fast paced one. Not as fast as the previous one, but not slow enough to be a couple's waltz. Her heart seemed to be beating in turn with the beats of the song.

She dug her fingers into his shoulder as they made a particularly complicated turn, the fine embroidery on his expensive crimson coloured jacket that clung to his frame crinkling. The jacket was tight and loose in just the right places, putting his body on show for everyone watching. It almost made her want to act on the irrational and unexplainable urge pull their eyeballs out.

And, even though Y/n knew she would never do something like that to anyone, the thought brought her a little satisfaction.

She blinked a couple of times to try and focus again on Eris and his dancing.

Eris picked up fast. He was a good dancer. A little too good, considering he claimed to never have danced before.

Y/n's suspicions only grew with every moment that passed.

He was a little unsure at first, and his nervousness had almost seemed… forced. But she did not pay much attention to that as she focused on guiding him and making sure to stay away from the other couples.

It amazed her how someone like him, someone who was said to be one of the cruellest males in history, had wanted to learn something so elegant as dancing.

It made her wonder, what else had he wanted to do, what else did he have passion for that he as forced to stop in favour of becoming the powerful and cruel male everyone made him out to be.

Made her wonder if he had a different upbringing, would he have turned out different?

Y/n skin seemed to have taken on a perpetual warmth, and her body refused to cool down, especially when Eris slowly seemed to pull her closer, his hand having wrapped tighter around her waist.

She felt a bead of sweat rolling down her spine as they continued twirling around the floor, Eris now having taken over the dancing as he guided her through a series of practiced motions. Y/n realised that he had lied about his knowledge- or lack thereof- in dancing.

It was in no way the season where the weather was hot. But Autumn court people had fire in their veins- at least most of them did- and that, combined with them most of them lusting after a person in the room, made the heat rise.

Eris's hand on her waist also did not help. His proximity, his breath on her face and neck, sometimes even brushing against her exposed shoulders and collarbones when he dropped the two of them a little. His eyes were blazing with something Y/n dared not name.

All of it made her want to scream.

They had been dancing for two songs now, and as the song began to come to its end, the attention of almost everyone turned to Eris and her.

Y/n wondered if he would leave before they could dance to the third song, as three dances in a row was basically a marriage proposal.

A small part of Y/n hoped he would continue dancing with her.

The last few notes of the song lingered in the air, ad loud applause sounded from the audience. Y/n knew without a doubt that everyone present was now watching Eris, curious as to what he would do next.

Y/n was right there with them.

Eris had not looked away for one moment. Not one. And now, as the sounds of the claps from the crowd died down, he continued to stare.

Even when the next song began, he did not remove his hands from her form.

"Eris" Y/n whispered, glancing around. "people are staring."

"I know."

She blinked up at him. "This will be our third dance."

"And?"

"We- we can't dance-"

"Do you want to stop?" He cut in, giving her a pause.

"Three dances in a row is akin to a marriage proposal. You know this Eris."

"And? Do you want me to stop?"

Y/n pondered the question for a moment. And she knew that he could read her answer in her eyes before she even spoke by the satisfied and excited smirk on his face.

"No, I don't want to stop."

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @tele86

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit @thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival

[feng-shui71]

Is Jordan one of those moms who doesn’t care if her kids smoke/smoke in the house? How does Wesker feel about things like that too? Since Alvina doesn’t strike me as that sort, but Junior..lmao

Do not be fooled everyone in that god forsaken household smokes something, whether it’s weed, cigarettes or a vape. Junior obviously smokes weed, Wesker strikes me as a Marlboro kind of man, and Jordan is the one who does both, has the worst lungs known to man. As for Alvina, she’s the lame one who has her dragonberry mango ice disposable on her that she rewires when it runs out, but she also smokes weed I think.

As for the actual smoking part, after a certain age Jordan doesn’t really mind the fact that they smoke. Around their late teens is when she’ll accept it, otherwise she’d be livid. Probably around 16-17 is when she’d be okay with it. Besides, she’d rather be conscious of it and know they’re doing it safely, rather than out doing whatever. This doesn’t exactly apply to smoking in the house though, that is completely off limits you’re going to have to go outside for that. Neither her or Wesker wants the house to reek of cigarettes, let alone Permanent Marker, thanks… Junior does not follow this rule and gets scolded at regularly. The odour in his room is probably rank as fuck, a mix of weed, some random bath and body works candle and axe cologne all desperately trying to cover up the foul smell😭😭😭😭😭

With Wesker I think he’d have the same sentiment, except obviously he’d be a bit more rigid regarding these rules. He knows how crucial brain development is so smoking is regulated to 20-25 for their prefrontal cortex fully develops. As you can tell, nobody actually followed this and neither did he, Wesker probably bummed cigarettes since he was like 12. Growing up they all hid this from him and Jordan definitely covered for them too. Again, Junior wasn’t as slick as Alvina and got his ass handed to him several times for getting caught smoking.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 16: Riddles

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.8k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

The manor is mute except for the scratch of paper as you flip the page of Astarion’s sketchbook and contemplate the detailed drawing of yourself. You frown as you try to brush the name over the woman, painting her with the letters and hues of every syllable. It doesn’t matter what portrait you look at; the name still feels foreign and unrecognizable.

Whoever the woman in these drawings is, she is lost to you. She took her name to the grave, and some things cannot be exhumed. You close the book, your eyes sailing up the wall toward the ceiling.

Should you miss her? Grieve her? Forget her?

Climbing onto the bed, you hold your palm out, summoning the flames from the candles. You close your fist to extinguish them and let the black wings of darkness envelop the room. You have a strange feeling that you’re not entirely that woman any longer, which you can’t put into words. You were disassembled somewhere between life, death, and this everlasting afterlife, and your pieces weren’t arranged in quite the same pattern.

You have lost and gained so much in so little time. Would you recognize yourself even if you had a reflection?

There’s an ache in the vacant chamber where your dead heart hangs, frozen in the static state of death. The pang of discomfort doesn’t belong to you, though. Astarion has been leaving the link open more and more, and you’re learning what he meant when he said the world around him seems to move in slow motion.  

You once made the mistake of thinking Astarion could no longer feel, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. The reality is that he feels everything with an intensity you cannot begin to fathom. His emotions are like shooting stars. They streak through him, blazing bright and winking out in the blink of an eye.

His beating heart gives away Astarion's return. He doesn’t bother lighting a candle when he enters the room, hanging his formal suit coat.

You light a candle with a twitch of your finger. “You must forgive yourself, Astarion.”

Astarion sighs, rubbing his face. “What gave me away this time?”

“The same thing.” You splay your hand across your chest. This is not the first time you’ve mentioned the ache, as if your heart is in a perpetual state of being torn. “When you hurt, I hurt.”

You feel his intention to cut the coupling, to give you a break from the pain, and you fight against it.

“Don’t,” you rebuke, narrowing your eyes at the increasing pressure in your head. “Please. Stop trying to shut me out.”  

Astarion’s eyes fall to the sketchbook you left on the bedside table. “Do you not recognize your name still?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head and fidgeting with your fingers. This is the whole reason for the pain he’s been wallowing in—a bog of guilt and shame. He’s more upset over it than you are. You smile, making your voice a gentle hug. “Give me some time, and I will get used to it.”

“You should not have to get used to your own fucking name,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes closed, and the pain in your chest increases. It feels like your heart is warping itself into knots. “Not even Cazador went as far as to remove my name from my memory.”

“You are not Cazador,” you snap back sternly. “Stop comparing yourself to him. The situation is entirely different.”

“No,” Astarion growls, raising his voice, overtaken by repulsion. “I’m something much worse. At least there were limits to his power. No restrictions hinder me.”

“Good Gods! Just stop!” You yell, jumping off the bed. You’re unsure if your anger is partly due to what Astarion is feeling or your irritation at his self-loathing. At least he cannot remember taking you to the kennels. You don’t think he will ever recover. “You’re not him, and you’re not the darkness inside. You must separate the two.”

Astarion scoffs, turning away and waving dismissively, “I think it best if you rest in your room tonight.”

You deflate, anger being replaced by his disregard and the sharp sting of rejection. Astarion has been making you sleep in your room for days. At first, you thought he needed space, but he’s only become increasingly distant and withdrawn.

“Why are you doing this?” You step toward him, but he tenses and shies away, making you halt. You try to decipher his retreat through the bond, but Astarion is carefully guarding his emotions.

“Doing what?” He asks casually, keeping his blank stare on the wall.

“You show me an open door, then slam it on me and pull the rug out from under my feet!” You look up, hating that tears have begun crawling down your cheeks. “You think keeping your distance from me is keeping me safe, but you’re tearing me apart. Do you even want me here anymore, Astarion? Should I go?”

“Don’t go,” he whispers, brittle and weak. If your hearing were not so sharp, thanks to your vampirism, you wouldn’t have heard him. There’s another stab in your chest that feels like it rips the muscles right off your bones, and you whimper, clutching at your skin. “Please.”

“I can’t take this anymore,” you plead, taking another step, only to watch him tense. Your arms drop to your sides. Your heartbreak is affecting him. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, and he winces almost imperceptibly at every sob you stifle. “Why are you pushing me away?”

Astarion finally turns, wracking his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be—what you deserve.”

“I know you don’t love me,” you sigh, shrugging. It always comes back to this. “You need to listen to me; let my words sink into your skin and fade into your soul. I missed you with such intensity that it felt like I died every day we were apart. You are my forever, even if I am not yours, and that’s okay.” You shake your head dismially, unsure how to get through to him. “I love you. Goodnight.”

You’re near your room when Astarion appears in front of you out of thin air, and you bump into him. He vaults you off your feet and into his arms before you can register his movement, making you yelp at the surprise of having your feet swept out.

“Shit,” He holds you firmly against him, his lips pressed to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me, little love. I need you.”

“Stop pushing me away.” You tangle your fingers into his hair, with your face nestled into the crook of his neck.

“I will.” His hand comes to the back of your head as he walks back to his room and places you gently on the bed with adoration in his eyes. “You are my forever, Illyria. Aeterna Amantes.”

“Lovers forever,” you finish, sidling up close to him and laying your head on his chest.

The teeth of guilt gnawing inside your chest cavity have finally relinquished your heart as their chew toy, and all that remains is the steady thrum of Astarion’s borrowed heartbeat.

“Until the world falls down, my love,” he purrs, placing a finger under your chin and his lips embracing yours.

The slow rocking rise and fall of his chest is like the sway of gentle waves; the beat of his heart is a lullaby whispering serenity into your soul, and you slip peacefully into your trance.

Upon waking, your hand meanders across the silken surf of the sheets, only to find Astarion’s side of the bed cold and void. Rolling onto your back, your eyes drag open, and you listen for the telltale susurrus of a heartbeat. A frown creases your forehead when you’re met with nothing but the anonymous creaks and groans of the manor.

Astarion doesn’t usually leave without mentioning his absence as a warning to stay indoors and away from the windows. A florid scent catches your attention, prompting you to turn your head.

On Astarion’s pillow, a red rose rests and a folded note with your name penned in his delicate, flowing hand.

“Good morning, beautiful.

I apologize for my absence, but I am not far. I’ve left blood for you in the kitchen.

Eternally yours,

Astarion.”

The promise of awaiting blood stirs you to your feet hastily. Your belly coils with anticipation, and you barely have enough restraint to dress and run a comb through your hair before you’re bounding down the stairs.

A golden goblet, elaborately etched with prismatic dragon scales that mirror yours, sits on the counter. You snatch it greedily and bring it to your lips. The blood is cool, so you allow your palms to heat slowly, warming it as it inspires your taste buds to recite their devotion to the ambrosial elixir. It’s unmistakably Astarion’s blood. It knocks you over in a wave of delirium that makes your knees weak, and you lean into the counter to keep yourself from melting into the floor.

You’re not sure if it’s your imagination or reality, but you veritably hear Astarion chuckling in your head.

The meal is finished too soon, and you groan as you clean the last traces from your lips. When you open your dreamily heavy eyes, another folded note, previously hidden by the flared base of the goblet, catches your attention. You blink rapidly to clear the insensibility glazed across your sight before you can make any sense of the words before you.

“Find me using the clues I have scattered for you, my clever Illyria.

We have much to discuss.

“Reminisce beneath the faded tapestries, where laughter once echoed; seek the embers of our stolen kiss."

Clues? What in the Hells is Astarion up to, and what the fuck do you have to discuss? An icy shock runs from your dead heart into your feet. Is it possible he found out about Mizora and knows you’ve been keeping something from him? Would he play a game of cat and mouse with you?

You would not put it past him.

He’s left the link between you open, and you cannot feel any malice vibrating in the orchestra of emotions. If he’s figured out your secret, he’s hidden it well.

You stare at the hint with a furrowed brow. Embers of your stolen kiss? Faded tapestries? The pad of your finger rubs over the fringe of scales scored into the goblet’s surface while you think, and then you realize the damn chalice itself is another tip.

This does not belong to Astarion, or it didn’t before you and he stole it after breaking into a shop one night during your adventure. Astarion caught you eyeing it while you were buying supplies. You deemed it an impractical purchase. There was a far more dire need for healing potions and other necessities than to waste coin on frivolous trinkets.

He woke you up that night, dressed entirely in black, and dragged you back to the shop for a thrilling night of thievery and resulting debauchery. Where did you two go after to celebrate?

The Blushing Mermaid.

You dress quickly in a red dress with lace sleeves and a glimmering, golden dragon that snakes up your side. The skirt hugs your hips, flares slightly, and flutters around your knees. The golden bands of the matching hairpiece and circlet wreathe your forehead and long hair.

Throwing on your sandals, you stop dead at the door. The sun still shines outside, as evidenced by the tawny luminance glowing between the cracks in the drapery.

Astarion’s voice frisks across the bond: “You needn’t fear, love. You are safe.”

“What are you up to, Ascendant?” You query back, opening the door slowly and sticking your hand in the small ray to validate his claims.

He giggles, “Solve the riddles, and all will be revealed in time.”

The sky sings of sunset in hues of fire hearths gilded with golden inlays. Despite Astarion’s assurance, your skin still flinches over your muscles as if trying to pull itself away from your figure. Your eyes keep steadily on the majesty of the horizon as you trot through the streets to the Blushing Mermaid.

With the recent meal sloshing around in your stomach, your bloodlust is easier to manage. Still, when citizens brush by with their dainty necks on display, you’re tempted to give them a nibble.

The tavern is as busy as it typically is for late afternoon, but most patrons take no notice of you, engrossed in their revelry.

“Ah, the leaking blood bag.” Captain Grisly’s voice drifts from her quarters. “Nice to see you again. I hardly recognized you without your quarterstaff and haggard, blood-soaked robe.”

When you turn and her eyes catch the cracked crimson of yours, she gasps but holds her tongue with a clenched jaw.

You smile reassuringly and taunt, “Don’t worry. I won’t bite unless you ask very nicely.” There is something about people being afraid of you that’s thrilling. You cannot explain why. Perhaps you’re learning to accept this new you instead of feeling ashamed. It’s freeing. “Was my pale companion here earlier?”

The woman eyes you skeptically and nods, “Yes, Lord Ancunin was in earlier, but he warned me not to assist you.”

“Of course he did.” You roll your eyes as Astarion chuckles in your head. “It was nice to see you.”

“Please try not to make a meal out of my patrons,” Captain Grisly smirks. “The cleaning bills are already enough of a menace.”

You chuckle while your eyes dart around, trying to remember what you and Astarion got up to that night. The memory is garbled under the lagoon of ale you must have drunk.

You drank a lot. You danced. Oh Gods. You danced on the stage.

Your eyes swing to the faded tapestries hanging above a small alcove. Astarion had dragged you off the stage when your provocative swaying earned the attention of too many ogling eyes for his comfort.

“You are a godsdamned delinquent, Illyria,” he’d purred in your ear while he ironed his body to you possessively, shielding you from the onlookers with a forearm pressed above your head. “I have half a mind to take you right here, enchantress, to show these fools you belong to me.”

A small table sits in the alcove with a single candle lit. A white rose rests on it, with a dainty silver chain wrapped around the verdant stem. Unwrapping it, you hold a locket in your hand. The edges are adorned with two exquisitely detailed dragons, one light silver and one dark, forming a heart. In the middle, a black diamond is held by the silver dragon, and a normal diamond is held by the dark one, creating a magnificent contrast.

Opening the clasp, your eyes anchor to a sketch you haven’t seen before. It’s not of the mortal woman you don’t remember. It’s of you, as you must appear now. Your eyes are the only thing in vivid colour, and your fangs peek out of your smiling lips. Even though the picture is small, it holds an impossible amount of detail.

The smooth metal of the back is engraved with Astarion’s nickname for you, Amarillis. It’s Elven, your mother tongue, for Flame-Flower.

Putting the locket on, you find another note nestled between the petals of the rose.

“Where the forgotten lay to rest under the celestial canopy, find the crimson-kissed stone where a single star shines alone.”  

If you know Astarion, he’s left another hint somewhere in plain sight, like the goblet. You scan your surroundings for anything that looks out of place, and you find an image hanging on the wall behind the stage that you don’t recall being there.

You recognize the statue, Balduran Looks Out to Sea, located in the Tumbledown district of the outer city. It’s not an area you’ve spent much time in. Astarion and you went to sit on the cliff and watch the sunrise the day before you went to kill or be killed by Cazador.

Now, you just need to get there without eating anyone.

Twilight is a tangible whisper, bruising the stretch of sky in purple and navy when you return to the streets. Alleys and paths are easiest for you to traverse, and sometimes you Misty Step and skate over the roofs when you feel bloodlust evaporating from your control.

At least Tumbledown is far less busy than the Lower City, thanks to the misty veil that never seems to disentangle from the town. The soft percussion of waves from the River Chionthar pulsing upon the cliffside is rhythmic as you walk up the quiet path leading to the statue.

You reread the note, “Where the forgotten lay.”

Cliffside Cemetery.

The large graveyard spreads before you, composed of a bafflingly complex network of headstones, tombs, and old mausoleums. You keep your eye out for anything red, which will appear brazenly against the drab background of the assorted greys and greens of the mossy tombstones.

The moonlight casts eerie shadows that stretch and disfigure the terrain. The stars ignite the velvet wreath of night as you finally come upon a headstone with a red rose draped over it.

The weather over the centuries has worn, stained, and cracked the stone. Crouching, you carefully wipe off the grime that dulls the worn epitaph.

“Astarion Ancunin,” it reads.

Rest Peacefully Beneath a Canopy of Stars.

Your fingers trace the jagged lines unconsciously as tears brim in your eyes, sinking to your knees.

“I have not returned since I punched a hole in my coffin and dug through six feet of dirt nearly 200 years ago.” Astarion’s voice floats from behind you.

Leaping to your feet, you whirl with more agility than you’ve ever possessed and thrust yourself into his arms. Astarion is dressed in clothing reminiscent of his camp clothes, leaving the typical opulence of the Vampire Ascendant behind.

“You are not forgotten, Astarion,” you whisper against his chest.

Astarion’s arms wrap around you. His timbre is angelic and deep, vibrating through your skin and massaging your spirit. “I was. For 200 years, I was a ghost stalking the streets while whoever I was, whoever I could have been, lay dead and buried."

Taking your hand, he walks toward his grave, letting his fingers coast over the roughened stone. “Cazador was waiting for me when I surfaced, hacking up dirt and congealed blood. I was his from that day forward. Even this grave is located on lands once owned by the Szarr family. Yet another nod to his ownership of me, I suppose.”

His finger taps the headstone, but he’s smiling when he turns to look at you—a real, genuine smile that fills your heart with warmth. “Then you fell like an angel from the heavens, quite literally, and waged war on everything I thought I knew about the world. You gave me something I had been without for centuries—hope.”

“I’m no angel,” you whisper.

“You’re my angel, Illyria,” he asserts. With Astarion’s attire and the way he’s speaking, which is so entirely familiar, there’s a shot of recognition that stirs your psyche. For the first time since you relearned it, your name is not an abstract word in your head. Astarion must feel it because he smiles broadly and continues, “No one cared, no one gave me a second look, and no Gods answered my prayers. No one is like you; you’re you. You stood with me through bloodlust, pain, and misery. You trusted me. You were patient. You cared. You were the only one who never gave up on me. You still haven’t given up on me, even though it’s an objectively stupid thing to do.”

“You were being very sweet until you called me stupid.” You giggle as he wipes the tears from your cheeks.

“Sweet and savoury, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ve been free for over a year. Yet, I am just beginning to figure out who I am and what I truly want out of this newfound life.”

“What do you want, Astarion?” You lean into him. “The world is yours for the taking.”

“Not what,” he says, shaking his head, sliding an arm around your waist, and his fingers grazing over the locket on your neck. He smiles, “But you will have to finish this little quest to find the answers you seek.” He hands you another note and winks, “I’ll see you soon.”

Astarion gives you a small, playful shove and strides away with a smirk. He bows and shifts into an unnaturally large, white bat with crimson eyes you would recognize in a sea of them, soaring around you while you laugh.

“You’re adorable, but are you soft?” You ask.

He answers in your head with a lilting laugh, “Shall we find out?”

He lands, folding his wings and resting on his headstone, and cocks his head. Your fingers tremble, unfoundedly afraid you might hurt him, as they stroke down the alabaster fur.

“Soft and cute.”

“I aim to please,” he snickers, taking off to kiss the stars. “You are wasting time, my treasure.”

You giggle at his jeering and watch him streak through the sky, so beautifully free, before reading the note.

"Seek the shore’s embrace, where stars align, and ascend the steps, bathed in candlelight’s shine. There, seek the terrace above the riverside; a question to decide.” 

Shore’s embrace. Now, this you know well. When Astarion turned you he insisted on renting a villa with this name near the river in the Lower City.

The trek back to the Lower City somehow feels lengthier as nervousness hits you, ticking away in your chest, every beat of Astarion’s heart amplifying your anxiety as if the seconds were grains of sand slipping away, impossible to grasp.

You can’t entirely tell if it’s yours or his. With the bond open and uninhibited, you are entangled, a tapestry of threads entwined so seamlessly that it’s difficult to distinguish where one of you begins and the other ends.

If Astarion has figured out you’re hiding something, he’s given you no indication, but some part of you still wonders if you’re walking into a trap. It’s hard to control your thoughts so they do not transfer to him, which he’s been trying to teach you so that you can keep the bond open, but your private thoughts can remain your own.

It makes you wonder what thoughts he keeps from you.

You smell the aromatic perfume of roses before you round the corner. The villa hangs onto the wall and overlooks the River Chionthar. The silver waves sway and reflect the impending dawn’s early light, cradling the morning’s first blush. Candles light the steps covered in white and red rose petals. It almost feels wrong to step on something so wonderful.

The beat in your chest thrums with anticipation, like your extinct heartbeat has woken and risen from the grave as you ascend the staircase to the grand entrance. Your breath catches in your throat as you enter the foyer. The sparkling crystal chandelier is lit, casting scintillating rainbows across the room. Rosemary incense burns, filling the air with an aroma that reminds you of home—of Astarion.

You follow the scattered rose petals leading to the terrace as the golden crown of the sun crests the horizon. Fear typically follows such a sight, but you’re revelling in grandeur.

The heartbeat behind you is the only thing that alerts you to Astarion’s presence. The man seemingly appears out of thin air, but if you had that ability, you would take advantage of it too, you suppose.

“This is beautiful,” you say, and your words are abruptly cut off.

As your eyes fall on Astarion in his resplendent tailored suit, he descends to one knee. His crimson eyes meet yours, sparkling with a celestial constellation mirroring the infinity of his love. The newborn sun lights up the adoration in his features.

“Illyria, my love,” he begins in a soft whisper before your brain can catch up to what is happening. “You are the fire that lights up my darkness, a melody that soothes my troubled soul. After being with you, there is no doubt that I have touched the heavens.” He hesitates momentarily, and the bond surges with warmth, longing, devotion, and good Gods, love, “I love you, and I fall more in love with you every day. I do not know what tomorrow brings, but right now, with you, the world feels right.”

His hand reaches into his pocket and produces a small, velvet box. Lifting the lid, the quick breaths you didn’t realize you'd been taking catch in your throat as your eyes fall on an exquisite ring, nestled on a bed of crimson silk, intricately crafted with a dragon claw, clutching a heart-shaped diamond to match the locket.

Astarion’s warm caramel baritone holds the sweet promise of eternity: “Will you marry me?”

Your hand shoots to your mouth to stifle the sound that erupts from your throat, somewhere between a whimper and a squeak. Your knees fold, unable to hold your weight any longer, and you drop, folding your arms around his neck and draping yourself over him.

His hand comes to your back, and he kisses your cheek. “Is this happy crying, or have I made a grave miscalculation?”

“Happy crying,” you stutter through shaky breaths.

He chuckles, nuzzling you. “Is this a yes?”

“Yes!” You pull back, nodding in case he cannot understand you through your weeping. “But I need one thing from you."

"Ask, and I shall make it yours,” he purrs.

You cradle his cheek, sweeping your thumb across it. “Say it again.”

He smirks, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I love you.”

“One more time,” you choke out.

“Gods above,” he giggles. “Is this all you will have me say now?”

You smile, the tips of your fangs peeking from your lips. “It sounds very good in your mouth.”

“You know I do not repeat myself for anyone,” he taunts. “Anyone but you, my love.” Astarion takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger, looking deeply into your eyes. “I love you, Illyria, my wife, my everything.”

“I love you, too, Astarion, my husband, my shining star.”

He beams, “I do rather like that, you know,” he muses. “When you call me husband.”

His arm wraps around your waist, easing you to your feet. You clutch onto him to keep yourself upright as your knees wobble like a newborn fawn and try to watch the sunrise with your head on his chest, but your eyes keep drifting to the ring adorning your finger, reminding yourself that this did, in fact, just happen.

“Do you like it?” He murmurs, catching your eyes moored to it.

“I love it,” you whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I should hope not,” he chuckles. “I designed it. No one will ever have anything similar.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, you know me,” he shrugs. “I killed the jeweller to make sure he could never replicate it.”

Your head snaps up, wide-eyed, to look at him. He glances at you and bursts into laughter. “A jest, sweetheart.”

“I hope you at least compelled him to forget it,” you snicker. “Or I may have to drain anyone I see with anything similar.”

“Oh,” he giggles. “I do so adore it when you’re murderous. Speaking of draining someone, I’ve had you running around the city all night. You must be positively famished.”

“You fed me,” you say, arching a brow at him. “Lucky for the citizens of the Lower City. Some of them smell very tasty.”

Astarion’s hands find the back of your thighs, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you. “Not as tasty as me, I hope.”

“No one could ever be as tasty as you,” you purr. “Your blood is nearly as charming as you are.”

He chuckles, taking you into the villa and setting you on the lofty mattress. “Well, who am I to deny your hunger? I would not be a very good husband if I did not keep my lovely wife satisfied. Would I?”

“What are you saying exactly?” You sweep your fingers through his hair as he undoes the elaborate clasps of his suit jacket. He discards it and loosens the collar of his shirt. You quirk your head at him. “Speak plainly.”

“I want you to bite me,” he purrs, pushing your legs to part for him with his knee and leaning over you. His lips mould to yours in a reverential kiss as his hands wander your body and ignite your desire.

“Bite you?” You breathe. “You said I couldn’t.”

“No.” Astarion removes his shirt, and your palms skim over his chest. “I said you can’t unless I permit you. You are as close to a True Vampire as you can get, my consort. It will not change you.”

“I don’t want to change,” you murmur, your fingers pressing firmly into his sculpted muscles. The offer of blood is tempting your hunger. “You’re giving me permission?”

He smirks, “Go on then. I’ll allow it.”

“Where?” Astarion cranes his neck to the side in an invitation. It takes everything you have not to leap for that magnificently pulsing vein. “Your neck?”

“Is there something wrong with my neck, my dear?”

“No. Of course not,” you giggle. “You have a very lovely neck. This is just new, that’s all. I didn’t think you would want to be, uh, well, bitten.”

“Your bite, my sweet,” he purrs, pressing his chest against yours and pinning you between him and the mattress. “Is divine. Only you will ever get the great honour of biting the Vampire Ascendant.”

“I godsdamned better be!” You huff, “I don’t share, Astarion. Not your body, not your blood, and definitely not your heart. You are mine and only mine. ”

He giggles, “Possessive little thing. Aren’t you? Not to worry, my love. I do not intend to share. I am yours. Wholly, and completely yours.”

You trace your lips down the shell of his ear. Your heart frolics at the ardent shudder that courses through his body and how the breath hitches in his throat. Kissing his neck until you feel the vein pulsing against your lips, you wait until he whispers his shaky, anticipatory approval.

The razor-sharp points of your fangs kiss his skin, and you wait for your body to seize up, but it doesn’t. You bite quick and sure, trying your best to be gentle. You feel the pop of your fangs puncturing his skin. His blood erupts into your mouth, caressing your tongue with heavenly heat that cascades through the channels of your veins and nestles between your thighs. You drink from him slowly but deeply, and your body trembles.

Astarion groans, deep and rich, his hot breath fanning the cool skin of your neck, and you feel the icy pinch of his fangs sink into you. You wash through him, and he passes through you in a paradisiacal torrent. The pleasure that harmonizes over the bond is transcendent. You swear you could come undone for this alone, and you ease your fangs from his neck and moan.

He kisses you with a bruising intensity. His tongue parts your lips so you can taste the essence of each other, and he bucks his hips into your aching sex, sending you spiralling into that frisson of pure delirium.

The clothes on your body feel much too restricting, and you whimper. The barrier of fabric between you feels unbearable. Astarion’s fingers go to his trousers, but his usual adroitness is nowhere to be seen as his fingers fumble with the laces.

He stares at his fingers dumbfounded for a moment and then looks at you with an arched brow and giggles gleefully, “Do you by any chance feel absurdly intoxicated?”

You writhe on the bed, unable to contain your ardent lust, as your brain awkwardly processes his question.

“Entirely,” you laugh. Gods. You thought you were high on him last time, but you are almost senseless in your need. You’re not even sure if you’re walking on the planes of reality or in some delightful hallucination, and you cannot find it within you to care. “Is this not normal?”

Astarion throws his trousers to the side, rucks up your dress clumsily, and tosses it away. “I’m not entirely sure. I may have read something about it, but I cannot quite remember where or when.” He shrugs. “We will have to experiment.”

Precum glistens, dripping from the head of his swollen cock. You are overcome with the absolute need for his salty, heady taste on your tongue. You lunge at him, bowling him over. Your movements are somehow swift and equally ungainly.

You lick up his shaft with a long, broad tongue stroke, feeling the ridges of his distended veins, before you engulf him in the wet heat of your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the blunt head of his cock. He sucks in sharp, shuddering breaths, fingers in your hair as you worship him, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, taking him deeper and deeper until his cock tickles the back of your throat.

“Illyria,” he moans breathlessly. “Hells. You’ve got to stop before I lose my composure.”

But you’re not entirely sure you could stop, even if you wanted to. No. You want to feel his cock twitching on your tongue and his seed shooting into your throat. You want to drink his essence like a fine wine.

“Illyria,” he warns, trembling fingers curling into your hair. You feel the telltale pulse, hear the way his breath becomes ragged and uneven, and you take him over the edge in a few bobs of your head. He cries out, your name a sweet litany in his voice.

His seed bursts into your mouth, and you moan at the salt of him, swallowing every drop he gives you like a thirsty traveller. He is candied like heaven, wicked like hell, and, oh, so fucking delicious.

He pulls your head back by your hair and stares at you like he has found an oasis in an arid desert. You lick your swollen, red lips, determined to get every last drop of him that you can.

“Bad girl,” he purrs, shoving you flat on your back and pressing his lips to yours. He explores your mouth. “I taste exultant on your tongue.”

His fingers run through the seam of your dripping folds, coating them in the sleek of your arousal and easing into your fluttering channel. Astarion presses the pads firmly into that sweet spot inside that blinds you with pleasure, the heel of his palm caressing your clit with mind-numbing friction.

It does not take him long to settle into a rhythm that throws you somersaulting over the cusp of your own release with a lewd, wild cry, and he does not stop until he’s lured every possible shockwave from your body.

Astarion grabs your waist, tugging you down the bed as he settles between your thighs, sliding his length through your folds, his head teasing your overstimulated pearl. He guides himself into you, working your sex open inch by inch as you stretch to accommodate his girth.

Where everything before this was wild, almost savage, and borderline uncivilized, this is slow, passionate, and unhurried. He rocks his hips in languid pumps, coming to his forearm with his forehead pressed against yours. He is not fucking you. He is making love to you.

“You are mine,” he rasps through shaky gasps. It is not a proclamation of his ownership of you. It is not a command. It’s more of a plea for reassurance. “Yes?”

“Yours,” you confirm breathlessly, your eyes squeezed closed in pure rapture as he massages every one of your ridges poetically. Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck, and you cling to him as if you might float away on this cloud. “I’ve always been yours.”

“Gods. I love you,” he shudders between uneven breaths.

You will never tire of hearing those words, tasting them as they hinge off his tongue, and feeling them as they dally over the bond.

You clench around him, expelling a sighing groan from his mouth that you catch on your lips, determined to taste his ecstasy. His arm folds around your waist, forcing you to arch into him with his other hand at the back of your head. Astarion changes the angle of his thrusts but keeps the easy tempo. The blunt head of his cock waves over the sensitive pad of nerves inside you with every roll of his hips, and his groin grinds against your needy clit.

Astarion purposefully brings you close to your climax and then eases you away from it until you’re a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to take this withholding any longer. From his taut muscles and the way Astarion shakes, you know he cannot either. “Gods.”

“Open your eyes and come with me, my love.” Astarion increases the sensual pace rhythmically. The building pleasure pools in your abdomen, coiling tighter and tighter with every snap of his hips.

You open your eyes, blinking away the daze of passion, and cradle his cheek as he gazes at you affectionately. You’ve never seen his eyes so vividly crimson, as if his love for you itself was shining through the scarlet depths.

He knows the moment you begin to tread the fine edge of euphoria, gripping his girth and begging him to flood you with his pleasure. You shatter, spasms and white-hot pleasure ripping through you so intensely that the candles in the room go out and reignite with every contraction of your walls.

“F-fuck,” he moans loudly, a roll of purring thunder echoing in his chest. With one last pump, Astarion tremors, cock pulsing, and spilling into you. His hips stutter, pulsing deeply within you with every twitch of his cock.

He pushes the sweaty strands of hair from your face as you both struggle to catch your breath. You may never get used to his new speedy movements because, before you even realize you’re moving, he’s rolled you so that your limp body blankets his.

His fingers caress up and down the valley of your spine as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, heaving a sigh of pure happiness while you are once again captivated by the ring wreathing your finger.

Astarion kisses your palm, placing it on his chest, and plays with the ring on your finger. “Will you tell your friends?”

“Our friends,” you correct, even though many don’t fancy him. “Of course. I am not ashamed.”

Astarion nods with a lopsided grin. “Even Gale?”

“Especially Gale,” you giggle.

“I simply must be there when you do,” he snickers. “The look on his face is sure to be exquisite.”

“I am positive he will have choice words for me,” you laugh.

Astarion bristles, “He best watch his words when I am near. I will not tolerate him speaking down to you.”

“Easy, Ascendant,” you tut, clicking your tongue at him. “I am capable of dealing with Gale and his words. I am not a maiden in need of saving.”

Astarion relaxes, chuckling, “A maiden you most certainly are not. I am going to have to field noise complaints.”

You pat his chest, smirking, “All in a day’s work, husband. Our neighbours are going to hate us.”

“We will simply purchase all the houses in the neighbourhood if they become too bothersome,” Astarion chimes, jostling you. “Think of all the places I could make you scream for me.”

You both break into laughter together, still immersed in the intoxication of each other’s blood.

But your bliss doesn’t last long as reality grips its claws into your rapture and bleeds it dry.

You cannot possibly continue to keep what you know for him. How can you expect your love to thrive where secrets sleep? He has to know he can trust you to be honest with him, even when that honesty frightens you. You would want him to tell you if the roles were reversed.

Guilt and fear tangle together and ball in your throat. Astarion jolts at the sudden change in your mood as it resonates over the union, sinking into him as if it were his own. His brows furrow and his eyes dart around aimlessly as he tries to understand the trouble he feels.

“What is wrong, little love?” He coos, taking your hand in his. You can feel his anxiety and the quickened pace of his heart in his palm. “You are frightened. You needn’t be afraid. I am getting better at controlling it. You can tell me anything.”

You steel yourself against the panic. His. Yours. Your combined dread.

You swallow and force the words out of your mouth. “I know what ails you.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. Your support gives me the motivation to keep this fic going, and I appreciate each of you!

As always, please enjoy.

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

-We finally got Astarion to say he loves her, multiple times, and a lot more than that. ❤️💍

How is he going to react when she finally comes clean? 🫣

[tokkiheart]

2025 Year of Fluff

I got inspired to make this after a friend shared with me the 2023 Year of Whump made by @soheavyaburden and I wanted to make something like it, but for individuals like me who prefer fluff and can’t (for one reason or another) do a month long challenge. I’ve had this sitting in drafts for 2 years and I’m finally going to publish it this year.

This is my first time ever doing something like this, but I did my best to have a nice mix of prompts that can work for romantic fluff, platonic fluff, family fluff, etc. so that no matter what kind of fluff you want to do, there’s prompts for you!

I also themed some weeks around big holidays for those who celebrate them while keeping the prompts vague or open to interpretation and aren’t really holiday specific. For example, the week of Easter there’s “scavenger hunt” and the week of Christmas there’s “gift exchange” and “home for the holidays.”

For any prompts where there’s an “X” in it, just substitute the X out for whatever word you want that fits in the context of the prompt. Any prompts marked with “(any)” really means any interpretation of the word/prompt. For example: “Game Day (any)” can be anything from actual sports to video games, board games, card games, RPGs, etc.

You can choose to do this event monthly, weekly, or wild card and change up which you do! Wild Card is basically doing whatever prompt strikes your fancy from any month/week!

This is completely at your leisure! No stress, no pressure, just fun and fluff! Feel free to mix & match prompts or pair with other challenges to your heart’s desire (the only exception is whump, hurt/comfort is fine but there needs to be comfort).

This is open to all fandoms, relationships, forms of media creation (except AI), etc.!

I don’t have a place on AO3 you can submit to, but if someone else wants to make one, contact me and I’ll add the link in this post!

Anyway, without further ado, here are the prompts!

2025 Year of Fluff Prompts

January 1: New Year’s Resolutions/Trying New Things Together/New Year’s Kiss/“This is all so new to me”

January 5: Reassurances/Moral Support/Promises Made, Promises Kept/Massages/“Guess who?”

January 12: Emotional Support/Holding Hands In Pockets/Warm Bubble Bath/Blankets/“I’ve got your back”

January 19: Walk In The Park/Handwritten Notes/Piggyback Rides/First Kiss/“This made me think of you”

January 26: Stargazing/Pillow Fort or Blanket Fort/Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights/Compliments & Praise/“You too?”

February 2: Trust/First ‘I Love You’/Blushing/Walking Together/“Let me get that for you”

February 9: Sweet Treat/Valentine’s Day/Love Letters/Love Language/“Shut up and kiss me”

February 16: Love Confessions/Throwing Coins Into A Wishing Well Or Fountain/Weekend Trip/Sleepover/“Show me”

February 23: Bridal Carry/Soothing Touch/Cuddles/Sweet Notes or Texts/Acts of Devotion/“Can I help?”

March 2: Drive-In Theater/Helping With Chores/Sympathetic Ear/Caught In The Rain/“Make a wish”

March 9: Kiss For Good Luck/Tokens of Affection/Sweet Dreams/Wish Granting (or Wish Fulfillment)/“You’re in luck”

March 16: Spring Cleaning/Flower Crowns/Snuggles/Picnic/“You still have this?”

March 23: BBQ/Bouquets/Boating Day Trip/Besotted/“Be mine?”

March 30: Being Silly/Pleasant Surprise/Supporting Silly Quirks or Hobbies/Happy Accidents/“Is this a dream?”

April 6: Nose Kiss or Nose Rub/Parallel Play or Work/Scavenger Hunt/Rainy Day In/“You know you’re really adorable when you…”

April 13: Dandelion Wishes/Sharing Food/Photoshoot/Bookstore/“Oh no, you’re a morning person!”

April 20: Stolen Kisses or Stolen Moments Together/Amusement Park/Meaningful Gift/Uniquely You/“Wanna try?”

April 27: Winning A Plushie Or Prize For The Other/Spooning/Mutual Pining/Shopping Together/“Guess what… I love you”

May 4: Bedtime Stories/Domestic Intimacy/Long Conversations/Putting Flowers In Their Hair/“Could you stay just a little longer?”

May 11: Wearing Or Stealing Each Other’s Clothes/Romantic Dinner/Long Walks/Established ‘I Love You’/“May I have this dance?”

May 18: Heart-to-Heart/Napping or Falling Asleep Together/Adopting A Pet Or Plant/Holding Hands/“Could you stay on the line? I want to fall asleep to your voice”

May 25: Family Time/Game Day (any)/Home Cooked Meal/Surprise Visit/“I’m with you”

June 1: Passing The Time Together/Parade/Making Or Getting The Other’s Favorite Food/Nature Walk/“I’m so proud of you”

June 8: Breakfast In Bed/Fireworks/Pet Names/Rainbows and Butterflies/“Oh no! You’re a night owl!”

June 15: Bearhugs/Lifting Them Up/Pillow Fight/Ruffling Hair/“Did you bring snacks?”

June 22: Accidents Don’t Just Happen Accidentally/Tugging At The Other’s Clothes To Keep Them Close/Listening/Photo Booth Antics/“Want a taste?”

June 29: Flirting/Running Into The Other’s Arms/Summer Vacation/Secret Hideout/“Sorry, I got lost in your eyes”

July 6: Heart Eyes/Running Fingers Through The Other’s Hair/Forehead Touches/Road Trip/“Do you like it?”

July 13: Day At The Beach/Sharing Ice Cream/Swimming Pool Or Hot Tub/Date Night/“I don’t need X to have a good time, I just need you”

July 20: Truth Or Dare Or 20 Questions/Reading Together/Back Hugs/Outsider POV/“Follow me”

July 27: Caretaking/Meeting The Family/Public Displays of Affection/Finishing Each Other’s Sentences/“You read my mind”

August 3: Adoption/Swing Set/Under The Moonlight/Tickling/“Can we do that again?”

August 10: Carrying Things For The Other/Playful Banter/Comforting Actions/Spontaneous Trip/“May I…?”

August 17: Study Buddy/School AU/Passing Notes/Conversations Without Words/“You’ve told your parents/family/friends?”

August 24: Public Library/Sharing Earbuds To Listen To Music Together/Leaving Notes With Food Or Drinks Packed Or Given/Meeting Up During Breaks/“Anything interesting happen today?”

August 31: Loving Gaze/Soft Kisses/Making Playlists Or Mixtapes For The Other/Doing The Other’s Hair/“You’ve been saving this for a special occasion” - “This is it”

September 7: Angel Kiss (Kissing Eyelids)/Power Outage/Resting Their Head On The Other’s Lap While They Do Something/Doing Chores Together/“Let me know what you need, alright?”

September 14: Awkward, But Cute/Good-Natured Teasing/Taking Pictures Of The Other Smiling Or In Their Element/Marathon (any)/“Practice makes perfect”

September 21: Good Morning & Good Night Texts or Written Messages/Sitting On Or Being Pulled Onto The Other’s Lap/Sharing A Book Or Reading A Series Together/Pick Up & Drop Off/“Come here”

September 28: Laughing Together/Pinky Swear/Tracing The Lines Or Writing On The Other’s Hand With Fingers/Watching The Other Sleep/“I’ll take care of it, go rest.”

October 5: Good Morning & Good Night Kisses/Helping The Other Put Something On/Comforting Presence/Running A Bath For The Other/“Feeling better?”

October 12: Play Fight/Carrying To Bed/Whispering Sweet Nothings/Holding Or Touching The Other While They Work/“Tell me about your day”

October 19: Sharing An Umbrella/Fixing The Other’s Clothes or Hair/Making Time To Be With The Other/Weekend In The Countryside/“Oh, I haven’t done this since I was X!”

October 26: Leaves/Kissing In The Rain/Comfort After A Rough Day/Sharing A Bed/“You are my home”

November 2: Soulmate AU/Pillow Talk/Inside Jokes/Tying The Other’s Shoe When It’s Untied/“I’m always here for you”

November 9: Wall Kiss/First Dance/Head Pets/Art, Craft, Poetry, Music/“Have fun?”

November 16: Reunion/Cooking Together/Secret Family Recipe/Photo Album Sharing/“I’m thankful for you”

November 23: Starting A New Tradition/Leading By The Hand/Swapping Favorite Playlists/Getting To Know You/“You’ll get X all over you” - “I don’t care”

November 30: First Snow/Matching Sweaters/Playing In Snow/Baking/“You’re not dressed warmly enough”

December 7: Hot Drinks/Snow Day/Huddled Together/Building A Snowperson/“Baby, It’s Cold Outside”

December 14: Snowed In/Giving A Coat Or Scarf To The Other/Wrapped/Hand Warmer/“I’m comfortable where I am, right here with you”

December 21: Gift Exchange/Home For The Holidays/All The Hugs/Head On The Other’s Shoulder/“It smells like you”

December 28: Cozy By The Fireplace/Doing Their Favorite Things Together/Cute Nicknames/Twirling/“Seeing your face makes me smile”

Place Where You Want Prompts:

• Birthday Party

• Anniversary/Friendiversary

• Celebrating A Holiday Together

• Fluff & Stuff (writer’s choice!)

[softnsquishable]

Well, i want to ask, how is joe irl? Lol

Like how was the m&g interaction

Finally, an excuse to tell the whole story. I will spare no details, so buckle up. tl;dr he is the nicest boy on earth.

About thirty minutes before Joe's signing block began, me and some other fobbies had clustered at one end of the area. I was totally cool - and then someone said "oh there's Joe" and I turned around and yeah, there he was, only a few feet away. He was holding his hands behind his back, looking lost, just trying to figure out where he was supposed to be and presumably where Rick was. No joke my hand covered my mouth and my heart raced and in that moment I was so SO thankful I had the foresight to get a notecard and write a few bullet points for what I wanted to tell him. Side note, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THAT METHOD because I always think I'll be fine going up to somebody I admire and then my mind BLANKS in the moment. This made everything so much smoother for me.

Once we found out Rick Remender was a big deal and we had to line up, we spent over an hour in line before getting up to where Joe was. I watched two people in front of me go, and then made myself a fantastic introduction by immediately dropping my bag, water bottle and phone on the ground in front of me. I backed up and let the girl that went before me get a photo before stepping forward with a little "hehe, take two".

I was wearing my "I Have Mental Illinois" shirt and Joe looked at it right away, smiled and said "Don't we all?" to which I brilliantly said "I was hoping you'd like it."

I was in the second row center at Sacramento 2ourdust back in March and I had made this sign for Joe.

I figured since it was a signing event for Holy Roller and Rifters I would bring it along to show him. On the night of the show, I had held it up during 16 Candles and he had seemed to see it, smiling over at me and giving a little wave, which definitely made my entire night. I didn't think he'd remember but...

I set the sign down on the table with the comics and said "I don't know if you remember this, but-" and Joe cuts in "I DO remember this. That was you? Yeah, I saw this, and I texted the guys about it right after the show." He then proceeded to tug on Rick's sleeve and say "Hey, Rick...Rick, look, look at this, look what she made." (Side note, seeing Joe just tugging on Rick's sleeve to get his attention, absolutely precious.) I am still completely blown away that he remembered seeing this sign after playing almost forty shows and eight months down the line, but it totally warmed my heart. He even signed it for me with a special sharpie - he dug around in his little cup of markers and then declared, "Rose gold. You're getting rose gold."

I felt my mind start to blank so I took my little notecard out, which I apologized for, but Joe said "Yeah, that's good to have". I then told him, as he gave me his complete attention, thank you for the music (I've been a fan for over 10 years) and for the books, the memoir, all the laughs, and for the community his band has fostered. I told him that I've met all of my best friends because of his band via Tumblr Discord etc. and that it's come so far that one of my closest friends, who I met on a "Fall Out Boy Forum" (it was wattpad but I wasn't gonna tell him that) and I had met after eight years of online friendship at Forest Hills. Joe asked if we were still friends after meeting because sometimes that changes things and I assured him me and them were cool.

I asked him what comics I should read to get more into comics in a similar vein to what he'd written. He thought about it and said that for Holy Roller specifically, a lot of it was inspired by early Batman comics (I believe he said Batman Year one) and that he was currently reading some of that with his daughter - turning his children into little nerds apparently! He went on for a little while like that and to be honest I do not remember all of what he was saying about it, except for at the end he did say "...that's a lot to remember."

Joe then asked me if I had the rest of the books (Holy Roller and Rifters) as he had copies of every single issue on the table. I have to preface this by saying I was a dumbass and didn't think to bring anything to be signed, so I had run into the bookshop earlier and bought an older issue of both Holy Roller and Rifters for the signing. I said yes, I was subscribed and had them at home, even if I hadn't read them yet, and he clarified "I wasn't doubting you, I just wanted to make sure, otherwise I'd give em to you".

Sidebar, he was signing anything people brought, including art, and someone's FUTCT CD. He asked where they wanted it signed and he helped them work it out, noting that, "In the past, people have had me sign on my photo. Yeah, this one, where I'm like...ten years old or whatever". He also signed a memoir or two (mine was signed when I bought it or I might've done that too).

I then asked for a picture and he said sure and he was very glad that "we (the band) helped to bring you friendship". I then asked hi for a handshake, which I got, and stepped over to meet Rick, giving him a little hello and telling him I enjoyed the books, as it was the first comic series I'd ever subscribed to. I then held up my phone for a selfie, which Joe saw us taking, and so he made this face, and then proceeded to laugh about it to himself, which was so SO sweet.

Just before I walked away I told Joe "oh by the way, my (not really mine but) discord server Fall Out Bastards say hi" and he looked mildly confused and said "I do not know them...but pass on my greetings".

I realized a few minutes later that I had forgotten to take a picture with the disposable camera I brought, so I waited for a gap in the Fall Out Boy fans and kind of timidly went, "Hey, Joe...can we get another picture with my disposable where I'm holding the sign?" He said sure, and so I went back over and posed, all the while he was giving us instructions for the camera. ("Make sure you do it with the flash on, I really recommend that...yeah, it's the little switch on the front. Is it on? Okay, good.")

I left the meet up so so happy, and when I sat down on the train to go home, I ended up chatting to the person next to me a bit. She was a casual Fall Out Boy listener it turned out, and when I opened up the sign to show it to her, I noticed that next to Joe's signature-

-he had drawn me a little smiley :') just something that made my heart soar that much higher.

Meeting Joe was genuinely one of the best experiences I've ever had. He gave his full attention to you as you talked, one knee on his chair, wiggling his flip flop sandals and chewing his nicotine gum (I know it's nicotine gum because we audibly heard Rick offer him some and he said yes and took it). Such a sweet guy and I would absolutely recommend that anybody meet him if they have the chance because though I've had to come home to my nine to five and all the issues in the world and in my own personal life...I cheer up a whole lot when I think about this interaction and see that photo of us together.

I do have to say, even as a 5'1 girlie, Joe is SMALLER that I thought he would be! Yes, he looks tall next to the rest of the band, but he is a SMALL BOY and do not let anyone tell you otherwise. Yes, he was leaning over on the table and I was elevated slightly above him, but even when he was standing straight, he did not come across as tall.

I do partially blame this interaction as the reason I went ahead and bought tickets to Innings Fest as well shdfjlsjdlhf but I'm glad I did! I hope to meet and make many more moots there and keep cheering Joe and the others on from wherever in the crowd I may be!

Maybe YOU shouldn't meet your heroes...but if your hero is Joe Trohman, I think you're better off giving it a shot. Here is a bonus photo or two of him being a very good listener.

[oscars-wifeyyy]

Smoking

The school day was already off to a bad start. The fire alarm went off, and everyone had their class walk to the front of the school. Lina stood with the other teachers while Janine stared at the substitute for her class with disdain and tsk’d.

“Janine, you good?” Lina asked.

“What you tsk’ing at, Tsk’in Teagues?” Gregory asked.

“I mean, look-look at this. My kids are just meandering. You know what I mean? You know, she’s not even using the buddy system. I-” Janine hummed.

“What even set off the alarm?” Jacob looked at Barbara.

“Don’t look at me,” Barbara replied as the fire captain walked out, “church and home are the only places my candles are lit,”

“What’s not lit is another call from Abbott. At least it’s not a full fire this time. Just smoke,” the captain gave Barbara a look, “it looks like someone lit a cigarette in one of the boys’ bathrooms,”

Everyone started making noises of surprise.

“Seriously, who still smokes cigarettes?” Jacob asked.

“Single dads, criminals…” Greg listed off.

“Morton. Where is he? Probably lightin’ up in a back alley behind a dumpster. Scumbag,”

“Hey. A cig after a night of drinking kind of hits differently,” Lina shrugged.

Melissa and Ava walked out with a student, “We got him. Melissa sniffed him out,”

“Oh, yeah. You got menthols; you can run, but you can’t hide,” Melissa smirked, “One whiff, and I am 14 again…” Melissa paused as she saw the cameras, “Thinking I’m gonna wait a couple of years before I try one of these,”

“That would only make you 16,” Janine looked confused.

“The smell always reminds me of my uncle,” the captain said.

“Oh, my aunt used to sit in a chair with a cig and a glass of Pinot Grig and recount ‘Moonlighting’ to me,” Melissa recalled.

“Yeah, my uncle used to do the same thing to me, except it was scotch and the Phillies game the night before,” the captain smiled.

“Childhood,” the two said in sync. The camera panned to Ava and Lina as they gave the camera a look and a smirk.

“Nah, but this is a real problem,” the captain emphasized.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Where did you even get a cigarette?” Melissa asked the boy.

“The guy around the corner sold it to me for a dollar,” the boy said.

“A dollar? Inflation is crazy. But you are in big trouble because cigarettes are banned,” Ava said.

“Not on any of the signs I saw,” the boy retorted.

“What?” Lina asked as all the teachers and captain looked around the front and saw that there wasn’t a no cigarettes sign on anything.

When everyone returned to their rooms, the teachers and Janine went to the office with Ava and started looking for rules on the school district website. However, none of them could find anything.

“On the school’s website, we got ‘no skateboarding, no vaping, no loitering, no horseplay, no weapons, no open flames, no bullying, and no gambling.’ There is nothing here about cigarettes,” Ava said, “did y’all find anything?”

“Well, I saw a sign on the hallway that said ‘no,’ but whatever was under it was graffiti over it,” Janine said.

“Yeah, that was a no graffiti sign,” Barbara said.

“The e-mail from the top of the year lists everything, I mean everything, including bringing a live spider to school, is grounds for expulsion, but it definitely doesn’t list cigarettes,” Gregory said with his laptop in his hands.

“Fidget spinners, banned. Cigarettes just seem to have evaded every sign we’ve seen,” Lina shook her head.

“Wait, so many new hazards have come out that we forgot to put cigarettes on the ban list?” Janine asked.

“Gee willikers, I have nothing helpful to say, so I guess I’ll just restate the problem that we’re all aware of,” Ava mocked, “That’s you,”

“Yeah, I got it,” Ava muttered.

When the meeting ended, Lina continued her day and taught her classes. She felt her phone vibrate, so while her students began a math worksheet she had provided, she pulled her phone out to see a text from Manny.

Hey! Does this Saturday work well for a date? I've always wanted to try this Italian spot near my place.

Lina smiled and replied yes, saying she was excited about it. Then, she shoved her phone back in her pocket and checked her emails. It wasn't until lunchtime that she went to the teachers’ lounge and sat with Janine, Gregory, and Jacob when Ava entered.

“How can cigarettes not be banned?” Barbara asked.

“Yeah. Somebody really missed the mark on that one,” Melissa glanced at Ava.

“I know my fit is going off today, but don’t look at me,” Ava said, “I blame…Janine. What are y’all even doing down there at the district? Shuffling papers? Doing the Jubi slide? The children are smoking,”

“What’s that Jubi slide?” Barbara asked.

“It’s where you put your foot down and move in the opposite direction,” Jacob explained while holding himself to demonstrate.

“I do not want to live in a world where white people explain dance moves to me,” Barbara put her hands together while Jacob looked at the camera, dejected.

“You know, I just don’t get it,” Janine started, “I thought we beat cigarettes with the truth campaign. It’s just so retro,”

“Well, maybe they’re getting cool again. I mean, clogs are back. Anything’s possible,” Melissa said.

“There are some cool clogs, though. Granted, I only wear them inside or when I want to dress bummy to go to the bodega or something,” Lina shrugged.

“I just can’t believe that children are smoking ragweed,” Barbara said.

“I know! Don’t they know that smoking kills?” Jacob said.

“Jacob, don’t you literally vape?” Lina asked.

“Ok, that’s different, and don’t you use the nicotine pouches? What are they called…zyns?” Jacob said.

“Yeah, but vaping is worse. You’re literally inhaling thousands of toxins. Zyns are also discrete and give me that nicotine push I want,” Lina said, “which reminds me that I need to stop at the bodega so I can get some more,”

“You inhaled all through ‘Saltburn,’” Ava pointed out.

“Yeah, well…Janine and Lina smoke weed every day.” Jacob tried to get the heat off of him, which caused everybody to gasp.

“We knew about Lina because she’s basically like a person in the military with her Zyns and energy drink consumption, but damn, Afroman,” Ava smirked.

“Nope. Not every day,” Janine shook her head.

“Janine,” Melissa shook her head.

“Reefer. Ganja. The Devil’s lettuce,” Barbara smacked the table.

“That’s why your feet so big,” Mr. Johnson said.

“It’s medicinal, and it’s considerate. If I didn’t smoke, I’d be an insufferable Energizer Bunny,” Janine said.

“Like you’re not already?” Lina raised an eyebrow, “if I didn’t smoke, then I would just be mean and a ball of anxiety,”

“Who would have thought? Janine is off that loud,” Ava smirked.

“Ava, you can’t talk. You’re a hookah head,” Gregory defended Janine.

“Mmhmm and microdosing. I just eyeball it and say, ‘Yeah. That’s enough,’” Ava said.

“Now, I don’t smoke, but I do enjoy a protein bar edible on the weekends,” Gregory tried to relate to Janine but failed, “You know, research actually shows-”

Ava cut him off, “Wow, this man just made drugs boring,”

“I suggest you all drop your vices and take a hit of my drug of choice - J-E-S-U-S. Street name, Christ,” Barbara put her arms out like she was on a cross.

“Uh, you’ve been known to demolish those little bottles of Chardonnay,” Melissa said.

“And you snort that liquid marijuana,” Barbara snapped back.

“You don’t snort it. It is CBD oil, and I rub it on my joints,” Melissa defended.

“It’s a gateway ointment,” Jacob peeped up.

“Your lungs are literally dust,” Lina pointed at Jacob.

“Crackheads. Speaking of joints, you ever submerge yourself in the essence of-” Mr. Johnson started, but Janine stopped him.

“Do not finish that sentence,” Janine said as she spotted a student recording their conversation.

“Franklincense and rosemary. I bathe in it while I hit a blunt,” Mr. Johnson continued as the teachers rushed out of the lounge.

However, amid the chase, Lina got a call on her phone to see it was Manny, so she stopped and took a deep breath before answering.

“Hey!” Lina smiled.

“What’s up, beautiful?” Manny’s voice spilled through her phone.

“Oh, stop it.” Lina blushed with a little giggle. How is your day going?”

“It’s good. Busy. How about yours?” Manny asked as he sat back at his desk with a smile upon hearing her voice through his phone.

“Oh, nothing super out of the ordinary. Just had a conversation in the lounge about drugs, only for a student to record it. Same, same,” 

“What? About drugs?” Manny sat up with interest, “what do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you everything tonight, but right now, I’m pretty sure everyone caught up to him, and I’m 90% sure that he posted it online because students are looking at me,” Lina sighed, “I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“I’ll do you one better. Want to hang out at my place tonight?” Manny asked, “You can even bring an overnight bag if it runs too late. I don’t want you out and about after 10 for your safety,”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Just a fair warning that I do have some homework and things to grade, so I’ll be multitasking while we hang out,”

“That’s no problem. I can even help you out,”

“Ok. Thanks, I’ll see you tonight at 8?” Lina asked.

“Sounds great. See you then, pretty girl,” Manny smiled.

Lina hung up and walked to her class when Janine approached her with a smirk.

“Who was that? I’ve never seen you with such a big smile and blushing,” Janine asked.

“It’s somebody that I’m getting to know, and he is an absolute angel of a man,” Lina smiled, “anyways, I gotta head back to my room and teach,”

The two split, and Lina went back to her class. However, she was put off by the questions her class had for her. It was towards the end of the day, and all the kids had gone home. She went to the front to see all the other teachers gathered around.

“These kids are out of control, and this needs to stop,” Lina said as she leaned on the desk.

“What do we even say to them? We can’t just have our kids undermining us,” Gregory said.

“Ok, but how do we tell them not to smoke or do drugs when, one, they know that we do them, and, two, we can’t just say anything to them except for ‘just say no’?” Jacob said.

“Ok, well, Janine, you’re at the school district. What’s our move?” Melissa asked.

“We do have one more resource at our disposal,” Janine said with a reluctant face, “I think it’s time to call in a professional,”

The teachers nodded again before dispersing into their own directions. Lina quickly went to her room and grabbed her bag and lunch box before rushing out of the school and saying bye to her fellow teachers, who looked at her in confusion. Janine looked at her rushing figure as Gregory stepped out of his class to ask Janine what Lina rushing out was about.

“She has this little fling, I guess, and I think they’re hanging out tonight,” Janine smiled.

“Oh, ok,” Gregory nodded and returned to his classroom. Janine took her phone out and texted the district group chat to see if they wanted to get a drink or two afterward. However, Manny responded, saying that he had plans tonight. Janine looked at the message and wondered if these two were talking to each other, but she shook her head and went about her day.

Lina finally got to her place and showered before putting on her undergarments. She was walking around her room as she looked at the clothes she laid out for tomorrow's workday. She settled with a pair of black slacks and a simple white long-sleeve that will be topped with a cream and brown flannel. The teacher moved onto her pajamas that she would wear at Manny’s place for the slight possibility that she was staying the night and settled with white and red plaid cotton shorts and a black crop tank top. At the last minute, she grabbed her workout stuff just in case they could sleep at a decent time so she could go to the gym before. When she figured that out, she looked at her closet and quickly settled with her black leggings, oversized Philly crewneck, and white Crocs with Jibbitz on them. Her hair was down in her natural waves, with her front pieces framing her face. Lina then gathered her toiletries and shoved them in her bag.

She gathered her ungraded assignments and schoolwork and started her way out. When she got to her car, she realized it was colder than she had thought, so she ran in and grabbed her brown Carhartt beanie. She connected her phone to her car and started her journey to Manny’s place. When she arrived, she realized there were reserved parking spaces, so she called him.

“Hey. I just got here and don’t know where to park,” Lina said.

“Oh, shit. I forgot. Come closer to where my building is, and you’ll see me stand where you should park,” Manny said. The sounds of him putting his shoes on could be heard over the phone.

“Ok, see you in a little,” Lina hung up the phone and drove deeper into the buildings to see Manny standing outside with no sweater. She quickly parked the car and got out, “What are you doing?! It’s freezing. Get back inside, and I can get my bags,”

“What kind of a gentleman would I be to let you bring in your bags yourself?” Manny smiled, opened the backseat to grab her 2 bags, and put an arm out. She wrapped an arm around his own, and he led them into his place.

When they went inside, Lina looked around to see it was clean and had a nice feel to the place. She noticed the dark green walls and the dark furniture to go with the walls. It had a nice, homey feel to it.

“This is a really nice place,” Lina said as she looked around.

“Thank you. I try to have it as clean as possible and looking as aesthetically pleasing as possible, too,” Manny said as he put her bags on the couch, “Now, what do you want for dinner? I have steaks and chicken,”

“Oh, it’s fine. I can cook for us,” Lina smiled.

“No, no. Sit down and do whatever you need to do, and I will cook us dinner.” Manny smiled. Which one do you prefer?”

“Steaks,” Lina said, “medium rare,”

“Alright. 2 medium rare steaks coming right up,” Manny winked and went into the kitchen as Lina grabbed her stuff and settled onto the dining room table that had a clear view of the kitchen, “tell me about your day,”

“Oh, it was good. Stressful, but good,” Lina said. The two had talked about both of their days while Lina graded her students’ papers and Manny was cooking their dinners. However, Lina couldn’t help but watch Manny cook and let her eyes roam. His posture was straight, and he moved with fluidity around his kitchen, but the main thing that caught her eye was the way his muscles rippled as he moved his arms or gripped the pan with the steaks cooking on it.

Manny felt her gaze and couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of her watching him, so he turned his head and gave her a wink, which caused her to blush. She forced herself not to look away. The two stared at each other until Manny looked away to check the steaks. Lina turned away and finished her grading, so she put her stuff back into her bag and sat back down at the dining room table with her body positioned towards the kitchen. Dinner was done, so Manny grabbed a couple of plates, plated the steak, and removed the potatoes from the air fryer. He took the two plates and set one in front of Lina and the other in front of the chair that was across from her.

“Would you like some red wine?” Manny asked.

“Yes, please,” Lina smiled.

Manny got up and grabbed two wine glasses and the wine from the fridge. He put one in front of Lina and poured the wine out, which drove Lina crazy as she felt his body heat behind her. Lina thanked Manny as he sat down and poured his own glass of wine. The two continued talking and eating until it turned into them talking and drinking their wine. However, it was disrupted by knocking on his door.

Manny looked confused as he opened the door, which revealed Janine, Emily, and Simon.

“What are you guys doing here?” Manny asked.

“I told them that we shouldn’t, but they kind of came here anyways,” Janine said as she saw Lina sitting at the dining room table, “Lina?”

“Heyy, Janine,” Lina awkwardly smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t know you had a female over tonight,” Simon rubbed the back of his neck, “We’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Yeah, see you,” Manny glared at the three of them before shutting the door and turning to Lina with a small chuckle, “Sorry about that,” 

“You’re fine,” Lina giggled, “they seem nice. I already know Janine is, but your friends are,” 

“Yeah, but they can be a bit of a handful.” Manny shook his head. " Do you Want to relax on the couch?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lina nodded and turned towards the time to see that it was 9:30, “Oh, shoot, it is kind of late. I like to go to the gym at 4 am,”

“Really? Me too! My apartment has a gym, so we can use that if you would like. I got extra towels for you to use,” Manny pointed toward the other end of the apartment.

“Really? Ok. I’m definitely down to do that,” Lina blushed, “Want to watch a movie then?”

“Yeah, what do you want to watch?” Manny asked, “I have every streaming service there is,”

“Let’s watch…” Lina tapped her chin in a thinking motion, “The Greatest Showman,”

Manny laughed, “Ok. Let’s put it on,”

The two started watching The Greatest Showman, and Lina couldn’t help but start singing along to the movie. It was by far her favorite musical movie that ever existed. Manny stared at her as she started singing and couldn’t help but smile at her antics. In a surge of confidence, Manny moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She smiled as she leaned her head on his shoulder and felt the fatigue hit her.

“I’m getting kind of tired, and it’s 10 at night. I can take the couch,” Lina said as she rubbed her eyes.

“No. Take the bed, and I’ll take the couch,” Manny said.

“How about both of us just sleep on the bed,” Lina shrugged, “we’re adults,”

Manny cleared his throat. " OK, we can do that. " He stood up and put a hand out for Lina to take. He held her hand as he guided her to his room, holding the bag of her clothes and toiletries in his other hand. He set the bag on the bed, let go of her hand, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Lina opened her bag and grabbed her pajamas, night and day skincare routine, toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash. When she entered the bathroom, Manny had just spit out his toothpaste and returned his toothbrush to the holder. He softly smiled at her and walked out, closing the door to give her privacy as she changed. She quickly changed into her pajamas and neatly folded the clothes she wore before brushing her teeth and opening the door again in case Manny had to use the bathroom while doing her nighttime routine. Manny turned his head at the sound of the door opening to see her in her pajamas, and he couldn’t help but stare at her voluptuous behind, which was thanks to her consistency in working out and wanting to be a muscle mommy.

She was unaware of the staring as she finished brushing her teeth and skincare routine. When she walked out of the bathroom, Manny successfully made it seem like he wasn’t looking at her. The two lay in bed silently until Lina turned to look at Manny.

“Good night, Manny,”

“Good night, Lina,” Manny said as he turned on his side to look at Lina too.

The two drifted off to the best sleep of their lives. Hours of slumber passed until 4 a.m. when both of their alarms went off. The two slammed their hands on their respective phones in an attempt to turn them off. Groggily, they opened their eyes to see that they were spooning, so they quickly got up and apologized to each other simultaneously.

“I’m so sorry!” Lina blushed.

“No, I should be sorry,” Manny blushed as well, “should we just get ready for the gym?”

“Yes, please,” Lina chuckled. The two went to the bathroom and performed their morning routines. They were done at the same time and were out the door.

Lina wore spandex shorts with a pair of oversized sweats over them and an oversized shirt tucked into the back of her sports bra. When they entered the gym, Lina looked around to see if they had the machines and weights she needed, so she nodded and stretched her legs out. The two were stretching together when Lina asked what he was working out. Manny was working out his arms while she was doing legs.

The two separated and did their own workouts, but both were distracted by the other whenever they did an exercise. Lina was finally feeling a pump in her glutes and legs, so she took off her sweats, continued her workouts, and blushed whenever she felt Manny’s gaze on her as she worked out. When they were done, they went back to the apartment and to the room.

Manny took off his sweaty shirt which didn’t go unnoticed by Lina who spared a glance at him. He turned to her, “you can take the first shower. I’ll make us some protein shakes. Is strawberry banana protein shake sound good?”

”Yeah, I’m good with that. Thank you,” Lina smiled and went into the bathroom, closing the door.

After her shower and freshly washed hair, she took out her hair dryer that she packed with a diffuser attachment as she dried her hair and made her curls pop more. When her hair was done, she put it in a half up, half down hairstyle with the front pieces to frame her face. Her clothes that she packed before were on her body and she walked out to see Manny walk into the room with 2 glasses of protein smoothie shakes.

“Hey! I’m sorry I took so long. I’m done here and I’ll hang out in the living room,” Lina said with a smile, “thank you for the shake by the way,” Lina grabbed a glass and took a sip, “this is really good!”

“Thank you. I tend to want good tasting protein shakes,” Manny chuckled. Lina chuckled along with him and nodded before grabbing her overnight bag and heading to the living room.

She spent that time on her phone, scrolling though TikTok while hearing the shower start up again. 15 minutes had passed when the shower had stopped and she determined that Manny was done with his shower. She went to the sink and put her dirty glass in before starting to clean the dishes. In the midst of her washing the dishes, Manny walked out dressed in a plain black shirt, black pants, and a brown cardigan over with his work shoes.

“Hey, you didn’t have to do the dishes. I can do them when I’m back from work,” Manny said.

“What kind of guest would I be if I didn’t do something to help you out as a thanks to letting me stay the night,” Lina blushed, “besides, I can hear my mom yelling at me in my head about not helping the host out,”

“Ok. Thank you, pretty girl,” Manny smiled, “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yeah, let me grab my bags and we’ll go,” Lina dried her hands on the towel that hung on the cabinets below the sinks.

“No need,” Manny held up her bags, “I got them,”

The two left the apartment and Manny walked her to her car. They hugged and bid each other a see you later since they had a date that weekend. When she got to school, she saw the FADE organization there so she went inside and gathered her class to go to the assembly. When she got there, she saw Gregory and Janine talking so she put the kids in their seats and sat at the back with the rest of the faculty.

When the assembly was over, Lina had to look through her students’ bags to see if they snuck any contraband on school property. She felt bad as she looked through each bag so she went to the lounge when lunch came around and walked in a few minutes after Ava came in.

“When you bring a substance in, you get suspended,” Barbara said.

“This seems like overkill to do all this,” Janine said, “without even having an honest conversation with Curtis or any of our students,”

“Well, that’s the system for ya,” Melissa said, “we’re not allowed to say anything except ‘drugs are bad,’”

“It just all seems ridiculous. Curtis is a good kid,” Gregory said.

“He’s an ‘A’ student. He doesn’t bother anyone. It’s kind of uncharacteristic that he smokes,” Jacob said.

“Smokes or smoked?” Lina asked, “Do we even know if he’s done this before?”

Everyone was looking at each other in thought as none of them knew whether he did it before or if it was only a one time thing.

“We let this thing get so out of control,” Barbara said, “We forgot to ask the boy what happened,”

“So, I guess I got to suspend him,” Ava said.

“Hold on. Let me talk to him. He’s been spending a lot of time in my classroom and I think he’s comfortable with me,” Gregory gathered his stuff.

“I’ll go with you. As a former child smoker. I can probable cough up some advice,” Melissa stood up and started walking before coughing, “See, it’s not funny,”

“Yeah, let’s see what else you cough up,” Lina muttered with a chuckle.

The day continued, and it was towards the end of the day, and all the teachers, Ava and Mr. Johnson stood at the front desk. Everyone encouraged Jacob to let go of his vape, which he stared at in front of his face. Everyone was cheering when he dropped it in the trash, and Melissa recorded the monumental moment when Jacob dove right into the trashcan to get it back. Everyone started trying to stop him in disbelief as he resubmerged with his vape. Mr. Johnson and Gregory wrestled it out of his hands and threw it back into the trash as Gregory kept ahold of Jacob. Lina couldn’t help but laugh at that before gathering her things again, walking out to her car, and driving out of the school.

[fumiyami]

FUMIKAGE SLEEPY HEADCANONS!!

1. has a bunch of sleeping problems (insomnia, sleep paralysis, nightmares you name it)

2. makes bird noises while sleeping involuntarily (birds in the wild do this to scare away predators!!)

3. a sleep cuddler!! has to be holding onto something or next to someone (usually next to dark shadow as seen in the volume 38 back cover!!)

4. sometimes while sleeping he’ll randomly sit up and say something like “they are coming.” in a deeper voice than normal then just immediately flop back to normal sleeping (thank you to my beautiful lovely girlfriend who gave me this idea by talking about how her brother done this once!!)

5. DEEPEST SLEEPER EVER. someone in 1A once tried to wake him up and genuinely thought he was dead

6. moves around so much in his sleep he ends up on the floor at least once a week

7. dark shadow is his personal alarm clock (this wasn’t a choice)

8. sleeps with the lights on due to dark shadow (kinda canon in the mha smash manga but apparently none of that is canon so😢)

9. if he isn’t sleeping with the lights on then he has either candles or nightlights (lets dark shadow choose the nightlights and they always end up choosing like a cartoon duck or something)

10. maladaptive daydreams to get himself to sleep (not projecting with this one guys!! haha!! 😄😄 /j)

11. has the worst bed hair ever (except I headcanon him to have like hair and feathers mixed together so he’s gotta brush it AND preen)

12. in the morning when he’s super tired he’ll forget to speak in like a gothic way and class 1A was so confused the first time

13. arranges his pillows on his bed to be sort of a nest but will make it look normal during the day just incase anyone goes into his room

14. his sleeping schedule is on the same level as Aizawa’s😨

15. morning voice is way deeper than his usual one and it’s concerning

16. before his morning coffee he’s way more like assertive like not taking any mean remarks from anyone (the first time he talked back to Bakugou’s “birdbrain” nickname 1A didn’t stop talking about it for so long)

17. refuses to yawn??🙁

18. dark shadow knows all of class 1A’s alarms and mimics them at 3AM😊😊 (TY TO SOMEONE ON TIKTOK FOR THIS ONE!!)

[witchermonstermayhem]

The first of December is coming closer and closer! And you can still claim a prompt for the Witcher Yuletime calendar.

For the prompts that have not been claimed yet, I've added alternative ones, maybe one of them tickles your creativity?

But there can be more than one entry for the same prompt. The more, the merrier!

No time to create something new? Not a problem! You can also share an old work of yours or recommend somebody else's work! Any form of fanwork (except AI) is welcome as long as it fits the spirit of the season.

The overall goal of the event is to have at least one entry for every day that other people can enjoy during Yuletide as their daily dose of The Witcher.

If you have questions, please don't hesitate to send an ask!

1 - cold / freezing

2 - (shooting) star / comet / bath (tub)

3 - old friend / friends

4 - shelter

5 - hot beverage (coffee, tea, cocoa etc.) / alcoholic / chocolate / decorations

6 - fire (place) / hot

7 - cat

8 - flowers / bouquet / candle

9 - hot spring

10 - tree / forest / Christmas tree / turkey / fish / dinner

11 - dog / puppy / goat

12 - mistletoe

13 - snow / snowflake(s)

14 - lips / kiss

15 - (Christmas) cookies / baking

16 - moon / moon light / night

17 - snowman / roast chestnuts / market

18 - wool / knitting / crocheting

19 - dice / cards / game

20 - unicorn / book / story / surprise

21 - gloves / mittens

22 - sleigh / sled / sledge / toboggan / ice skating

23 - present

24 - heart / love / make up your own prompt

Please share this post so that many Witcher fans can join the event. Thank you!

Rules/FAQs below the cut.

Claim a day/prompt (or more than one) and post something for it before your day, tagging @witchermonstermayhem and #yuletidecalendar so that I can find and share it with everybody on the day the calendar door opens.

What can you share? Fics, Poems, Art, Edits, Recipes, Mood boards, whatever you like! It should fit the prompt and the season and must be related to The Witcher somehow.

Do I have to create something new? - No! You can also share an old work of yours or recommend somebody else's work. The only thing that's not allowed is AI created stuff.

How do I claim a prompt? - Please send me a message to let me know which prompt(s) you'd like to share something for until 30th November.

Is NSFW allowed? - Yes! Just tag it properly, please.

Are modern AUs and crossovers allowed? - Yes, definitely!

I missed the deadline to claim a prompt. Can I still participate? - Yes, no problem! Just post before the day of the prompt and tag me so that I can share it. The claiming is just so that I can see which days have not been claimed and can find something to share myself.

Can I combine this event with other events? - Yes! As long as the other event allows it, combine as much as you like. For example there's @fluff-cember, @whumpcember, @hurtcember, @12daysofchristmas or maybe you have a bingo card that is not done yet.

Can I combine different days of the event? - No, not really as each entry is for one specific day only. If you want to write a single fic for several prompts, it will work only if the prompts are used in different chapters and in chronological order.

Can I be a completionist? - If you want to share something for every day, that's awesome and then you're definitely a completionist! But it's also great if you share something for just one day.

Is there an Ao3 collection? Yes, it's here: WitcheryYuletideCalendar

(You can already post to it, but it won't be revealed before 1st December)

If you have questions, please don't hesitate to send an ask!

Please share this post so that many Witcher fans can join the event. Thank you!