#hence the simple edit

[emblazons]

He is more of myself than I am.

Day Seven of @bylerweek2023 - Soulmates aka: Byler x (Emily) Brontë + how he looks at you when you're not looking

[hoppipolla]

DA YEOL & TAE HYUN + touch

[homochihuahua]

Yo people think of this

Dick a lone hunter. Living on the skirt of town, all alone and isolated with only his two hounds as company. His relationship with his extended family is strained, especially after the death of that boy Bruce took in his place. The one who would look at him with worship in his eyes, like he had been searching for something all his life and had finally found it. His demise. His passing had broken them all. Dick didn't form that much of a relationship with him to began with. Too angry at Bruce and too involved in his work and life to care for one more stray Bruce plucked from the streets. But god it had left him wounded. And while the wound had closed it has yet to heal even now.

Dick spends a relatively simple life now. Long gone the glory he once bathed in with his team to a life of tending to cold hollow house with no one to wait for him in it.

Dick first met him after slipping from a cliff where he got himself injured. Something near fatal if he didn't get help as fast as possible. Apparently he separated far a way from his hounds way too far for them to find him in the right time. Not like the poor animals would be able to think of bringing in human help before setting in to find their master anyway.

As he was finishing that thought, He appeared right in front of him. From the snow like a soft blotch of blood with his red fur, a fox. It looked at him and he looked back at it in return. Tentatively inching to where he lay, Dick gripped the knife inside his pocket, ready for the worst, if it decided to attack for whatever reason. But just a few inches from him the fox looked into his eyes. This close Dick can see them now a beautiful haunting teal colour, something he hadn't seen on any other creature before, almost otherworldly. And in it's gaze Dick found something familiar, he doesn't know how, but it feels like this fox recognised him. And Dick in turn recognised him too.

He went away after that, leaving him all back alone. Dick contemplated his departure, somehow feeling lighter of his impeding end. After some time, that couldn't be even an hour long if his estimations were right, Dick heard the sound of dogs and people. He screamed his lunges out for them, with as much strength he musterd after much blood loss. Harsh haltings and the sound of shuffling through the snow, Dick looked up in time to see some of the town's hunters with their own hounds and his, coming his way.

"Richard! Thanks the Deity we found you"

"How?" He managed weakly.

"Your hounds came back to town following a fox! Our own joined them and we followed them to get them back to home, because for some reason they weren't listening to orders.", "and we also worried of your dog, as we know of how well trained they are and how they would not dare leave your side... we worried something happened to you"

Dick didn't really pay much attention past the "Fox" he looked around willing to catch him again and he did. It looked at him from far away. Kept on looking for sometime and then trotted away.

Dick thanked the fox and he thanked the gods for sending him to Dick.

The second time Dick met him, was when he was nursing a heavy fever amidst a snow storm. Harsh knocking on his door had awaken him from restless slumber. He wondered what person out of their mind would be out and about at this time, or it simply could be someone seeking refuge at his shamble of a house. Either way Dick readied his hunting knife and riffle. He opened his door with a harsh gush of storm air entering his house blocking it from him, almost protectively, was a younger man. Dick's high fever faced with sudden cold made his mind all fuzzy and dizzy, because he recognised those eyes, and that face looked like it belonged to someone who never got the chance to grow into it. His illness took the better of him, Dick fell into a strong, warm, chest. Wide shoulders and powerful arms engulfed him, warmth seeping into his quivering body.

"Shush, I got you now"

Tears filled his eyes for some reason, from his illness, the cold or the unexpected surge of weird emotions, he doesn't know. He Couldn't have put his fingers on it even as his life quite literally depended on it. With this stranger at his doorstep, and him in such weakened state.

But Dick felt safe. This man would keep him safe.

Dick woke up. His hounds were laying by either side of him. He looked into his room to find doctor Thompkins in a chair by his side.

"Good morning Dick. How are you feeling? Last night must have been a hard one on you."

"I had a simple fever. What are you doing her Dr Thompkins ?"

"I am afraid it wasn't as simple as you'd like to believe.. if not for that young man taking care of you through it, you might have not gone through last night Dick.", "which, answering to your question, was the one to seek me after you had stabilised a bit. Quite the young man he was, to seek me and drag me through the storm to get to you"

Dick's braind was still fuzzy with the memory. He had thought it a hallucination and nothing more. No person should have had those eye. Especially not him.

"Where did he go" he said instead "I don't know. After he got me here he just left without a word, and you know me I don't ask unnecessary question and would rather spend the time and effort tending to my patient" a beat of silence "you don't know him either" a statement not needing a confirmation "you don't know who I know or might not know", "But I do Dick. Everyone dose know how isolated you are and it's a face I haven't seen around town before"

Dick didn't have anything to say to that. He only thought "Maybe it's an envoy from the deity, a guardian angel, if you Will" he declared. And even through the dizziness and fuzziness he felt, he could confirm. That the weight he felt propping him was very real and human.

"Don't be ridiculous, I never sought you as a religious person"

"Hmm" Dick allowed, signalling he wanted the conversation to end. which Leslie allowed easily.

As she finished with directing him to each medicine he was supposed to take, she made a promis to come check on him in the early evening then she left him to his cold empty house again.

Dick stroked his hounds thinking, yearning, was the fox only going to come to him in times of need? Did he only allow himself in Dick's life only when death was at his door steps waiting for him? Did Jason only come to ward the angels of death away from him, because he regarded Dick as something precious to him,but his anger for Dick's neglect and detachment of him made Jason punish Dick by never returning back to his life properly?

Dick left his hands to his eyes slowly. As the weight of his loneliness settled on his shoulders, the tears started to flood. He hoped his hands were enough to shield him from Jason's ever watching eyes, least he be watching now, and so he might blame Dick's pain on his own self.

[thatsuhboldchoice]

me trying to connect every single person of interest involved in the development of geology as a science at the beginning of the 19th century so i can write a play about them

[ghostinacardboardbox]

It’s probably never going to happen just because I’m always busy but I love the idea of running a fanzine. I just don’t have the time and I’m only ever going to get more busy. But I think about doing zines a lot.

[nastasya--filippovna]

Crush Culture; Conan Gray x Beatrice and Benedick (Much Ado About Nothing 2011)

For me these two will always be ace icons. Thank you Shakespeare for writing Ace characters that can and do fall in love.

There's this general misunderstanding that just 'cause you're Ace ergo you're also Aro. Aro and Ace are two separate identities. Some people on the spectrum identify a both Aro and ace hence they're Aroace (simple really!)

And I think that's the same misunderstanding these two have internalized. They've been told that just because you don't like someone "like that" also means that you are not capable of loving.... that love is just "not for you".

So here's to all the Ace people who have those who will find their love, their soulmate, and whoever matches their freak. I love you all!

Lovely moots: @a-singing-lunatic @shadesofecclescakes @suburbia-and-brentwood-market @glitterypin @angie-words

@davidtennantgenderenvy @dreamsfrozenincandyland @turtleneck-crowley @dtmsrpfcringe @princeloww

@consanguinitatum @mystic-mae @cranberry-sniffer

It would mean so much to my pathetic low self-esteem ass if you checked out my edit!! Lots of love 😘

[queers-gambit]

All Mine

title citation: song by Brent Faiyaz

prompt: ( requested ) you and Tangerine break up, and the man you date after is a serious downgrade. on a night out, Tangerine decides your story isn't yet finished.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 7k+

note: did i use this gif already? yes. but it fits the theme of this story.

warnings: same drill - Tan's government name is Aaron, Lem's is Brian. cheater!Reader (not on but with Tan, you'll see), some angst, break-ups, but overall hurt and comfort, happy ending, small NSFW, random "State Farm" quote (not sponsored), smoking indoors, brief domestic aggression, brief violence (it's Tan), term "going postal" used, not edited. "not all men" only applies to Tan i don't make the rules.

We begin today by discussing the concept of soulmates.

World renowned Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato (born Aristocles, not to be mistaken for Aristotle), once theorized that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces. The Greek God, Zeus, motivated either by fear of man's potential power or the need to reprimand their arrogant pride, decided to punish humans by severing them into two perfect halves - dooming them to roam the Earth in search of their whole self.

According to Ancient Chinese mythology, The Red String of Fate (tied by the Lunar matchmaking God, Yue Lao) says lovers who are destined to be are tied together through lifetimes by a red string - the color that symbolizes happiness - regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This string might stretch or tangle (like all relationships), but will never break.

Some Western cultures believe in the idea of simple "soulmates", two people destined to meet and love one another unconditionally. They thought their souls are someway, somehow intertwined - be it in the stars, by the cosmos, or even some intrusive, baby-presenting, diaper-wearing, winged fucker named Cupid. "Soulmates" operate as two halves of one whole, yet still remain two separate individual persons. The idea originates from Plato's theory, but essentially affirms: there's a perfect someone for everyone.

Other cultures might say their religious deity or just faith in said religion is peoples one, true love. Some argue a "soulmate" isn't a romantic partner at all, but instead, a person's twin. You know, same womb, same "soul", that kinda reasoning.

Akin to the Greeks, theosophy claims God created androgynous souls, and these souls were individually split into the two genders they once were. Each half seeks the other, and when their karmic debt is paid (being a reason they were split in the first place), the two halves will return to their whole, true self.

and before anyone says anything about gender, remember, these theologies originate from a time that a modern day Taco Bell dollar menu burrito would literally make the theologists implode!

Some New Age philosophy says a soulmate is a totally separate entity (meaning, not split or derived from us), and who spends lifetimes as your friend, lover, co-worker, partner. Soulmates are the greatest union of the heart, no matter the shape or form it presents as; being two connected souls. Hence platonic soulmates, as well.

Other common literary soulmate idioms:

cut from the same cloth -> meaning being so in-tune and similar in characteristics, demeanor, and / or behavior, you "must've" come from the same place.

apple of my eye -> while, yes, it means being extremely important to a person, it also could mean being the "core" of your lover's heart and / or soul; similar to how an apple core keeps the fruit's integrity.

better / other half -> it's 2 am, this is pretty self explanatory.

ride or die -> again, self explanatory - but indicates that a soulmate will live life loyally with you in good and bad times.

match made in heaven -> being absolutely SO perfect for each other, your love was crafted by divine intervention in the eternal kingdom of heaven - where a thing or two about "soulmates" might be known.

my heart and soul -> your love being so strong, so right, it takes over logic and emotion; and intoxicates your very soul - your entire being.

No matter what approach you take, what you do or don't believed, there was no denying: Aaron was your soulmate.

That arrogant, smug, sarcastic, devilishly handsome, mysterious, devious, sneaky, alluring, intelligent, bitchy, suave, charming, intuitive, opinionated jackass who used the operative codename Tangerine.

But to you, he was Tan. Tangie. Aaron. Ace. The love of your life.

You couldn't avoid it. There was no wishing him away, no genie to appear for your third wish. There was no point in trying to avoid or deny your feelings anymore, they were an 18-wheeler and there was no crosswalk in sight; and that's where everything fell apart - realizing you were ready and willing for this emotion to come barreling into you. When things got serious, when you were ready for distinct, specific commitment, Aaron suddenly reared back and put so much distance between you, it was as if he catapulted into a different timezone.

You had been at a mutual friend's birthday party, and after several rounds of alcohol, where everyone was good and buzzed and happy in their own little worlds, incidentally toppled into a public showdown.

"What's the rush?" Aaron asked you, tears inconceivably dribbling down your cheeks one-by-one while stood in a packed-out bar. "Huh? What's your rush to get married? Things have been so good, doll - so fucking good - and you want to ruin that? This isn't - "

You barked, "'Ruin that'? Ruin, what, exactly!? Aaron, we've been together five years - five fucking years, half a bloody decade - how could you possibly say you don't know if you want to marry me or not yet!?"

"It's not you, love - "

"It's not me, it's marriage that scares you!?" You snarled, so used to hearing it, you can quote him.

"Yes!"

"It's the same difference! You love me, but marriage is so scary, it's not worth it, even with me! No matter how much you say you love me, right? You just can't - no, no! - you won't love me enough to marry me! Because you're capable of it, you're capable of loving me enough, but you're much more comfortable being an emotionless jackass - "

"No, no, don't go putting words in my mouth," he groaned, head tilting back, shaking his curls as he rightened to look at you. "Baby, just listen to me, please, neither of us are in a state to have this conversation - "

"We never are, according to you! It's never the right time, the right energy, right setting! What's the issue, Aaron? Huh?" You felt your anger crack and chip away like a hard boiled egg, revealing the soft emotion inside. "What's the real problem being with me? With marrying me?"

"We're just - we're so young!"

"Try again."

"You're just not thinking about - "

"Oh, no, but I am!" You snapped, setting your nearly empty glass to the bartop and shocking yourself (and the eavesdropping bartender) that it didn't shatter. "I am thinking, Aaron, I'm finally thinking about myself - for once - and I know what I want! And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore to ask for what I know I deserve!"

Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as he did when faced with confrontation. "Neither of us are drunk or sober enough to get though this conversation, so... Let's just..." He trailed, brows furrowing when you shook your head with a hateful scoff, yanked from his grip, and stormed away. But he quickly snatched your upper arm, halting your escape, demanding, "Wait, wait, wait, hang on, love. What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away from you - "

"They haven't even cut the cake, baby, c'mon, the night is still early - "

"Excuse me while I don't want to stand around here with my ex-boyfriend in front of our friends pretending to be happy."

"What're you - ex-boyfriend?" He stuttered in genuine hurt and confusion.

In that moment, like divine intervention to semi-prove your point, Brian, Aaron's brother, who used the codename Lemon, dropped in. Tangerine let go of you to not make it look like he was holding you in place. "S-Sorry, I know this looks tense, but, uh, bruva," Brian showed Tangerine his phone, "we've gotta go, man..."

"We're in the middle of something, Lem."

"I get that, but... Duty calls, mate."

Tangerine sighed, hand through his hair, turning to you in what you used to think was real empathy. "I-I'm so sorry, love, I have to go - but we'll finish this conversation when I get home, okay? Yeah?

You sniffled and nodded sadly, "See? You see? You love your job more than me, that literally in the middle of a fight about marriage, you're gonna go. Did you see how easy that was for you? Yet you can't love me enough? In a much less high-stakes situation?" With another nod, but this time out of realized confirmation, you breathed, "I'm done, Tangerine." He knew you were serious when you reverted back to his codename; stripping the personal warmth from your tone. "Okay? I'm done. I can't do this anymore, it's absolutely unfair. You've made it clear, you don't want to marry me, so, that's fine, but I'm not in the business of wasting anymore time than I already have. Now," you took a breath, "we can talk later about getting your shit outta my place, probably after your mission, but until then, just please, leave me the fuck alone."

You swore that was going to be the end. It was supposed to be. There was never supposed to be a relapse. Never an epilogue. The Tangerine / Aaron chapter was closed, the entire book was supposed to be closed!

But when you're single for the first time in five years, you kinda forget how to casually date.

There's dating apps, which, as some might know, is just a nightmare experience. There's sometimes local singles events - but they're not always the vibe you usually want to spend your energy on. Matchmakers were (apparently) thousands of wasted dollar. Dating coworkers is typically ALWAYS weird unless you're Jim and Pam, or Meredith and Derek, or whatever other couples TV romanticized. Reality dating shows? That air out all your business? PASS. Taking your mother's recommendations? PASS. Especially if she has her little "church friends" trying to set you up, too? HARD PASS. Sometimes, you just start praying for a hunky Italian Mobster to abduct you - it honestly sounds a little easier (read: this is sarcasm)! Your friends try to set you up, but it usually doesn't click, or it's a strange experience that makes you reject further offers. You could always hope a guy spills your coffee and offers to buy you a new one, which turns into you talk the day away - but life isn't a Glen Powell movie.

Oh, and don't even get me started on ghosting - fuck you if you ghost people, you immature coward.

So, sometimes, you get real lonely, start to feel a little self pity, like you made a mistake breaking up... And maybe you seek company in alcohol... And that alcohol can sometimes help you reminisce... Which exasperates the loneliness... And eventually, maybe that little devil on your should convinces your to text your ex... Which in turn, starts an entire precedent about it being "okay" to go back to him in times of need and desire, of desperation, sometimes of boredom, or even times of comfort.

Aaron had left you alone after the break up, he knew to give you space; so, when you start casually fucking about a year after ending things, it was you pulling all the strings. Women in power, ammirite? Though, Aaron didn't mind your use of him, he always thought the break-up was a fluke of some kind, something fleeting, temporary - hence why he left you alone to sort your feelings. Aaron knew he wasn't perfect, but neither were you; resulting in plenty of "negative" aspects of your relationship, but there were far more positives - more ups than downs - assuring you both know, this was real. This was love. This was true love. It was eternal and raw and passionate... But you couldn't wait forever for him to face his fears.

Until... One night, after hours in his sheets, from the side of his bed, you declared, "This was the last time, Aaron."

He watched you hook your bra, cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" He mused, having heard it before. "All right, sweetheart. Same time next week, yeah?" Aaron laughed at his own joke, casually flicking ash into the bedside tray.

"No. I'm being serious, Ace," you sighed almost sadly. You stood to yank your panties and leggings up in one move; shifting your hips, wiggling a bit to adjust the feeling of tightly wadded cloth cutting through raw coochie. "Ryan and I, uh... We're, uh, you know," you cleared your throat, trying to situate your tee shirt without looking at him, "we're going exclusive."

"Uh-huh, is that so?"

"Yep."

"When was this decision made?"

"Oh, uh," you blanched, "the idea was proposed a couple days ago, but we're making it official tonight - "

"I've seen you 8 fucking times this week and it's only Tuesday - "

"I know - "

"What the fuck, Y/N!?"

You glared, "What do you want me to say, Aaron!?"

"That you're not being serious! We're supposed to be together, not whatever - "

"You knew that we were just fucking to blow off steam and fill certain voids, we weren't back together! You always knew one day, this was bound to happen."

"Why? Huh? Why fuck me, but date him?"

"Because you're allergic to committeemen and Ryan isn't!"

"So, why do you keep comin' around? Why keep comin' back t'me, huh? If he's willing to commit, why're you the one fucking around on him? With me?" But the look on your face said it all, making Aaron laugh spitefully, "Ohhh, no, oh, sweetheart. Oh, don't fucking tell me, doll, he's not fucking you right?"

"For fuck's sake, would you please get off your high horse a single moment just to fuck off - "

"Why else would you keep coming back?" He demanded, smug as could be. "Don't wanna date me, but you'll fuck me? Oh, poor Ryan must really be lacking - "

"I told you, this is the last time."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," he laughed, leaning back, hands behind his head. "They all always say that before they come crawling back in my bed."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" You snarled, feeling more hurt than you should've. And Tangerine could read it all over your face. "I told you every man I slept with - granted it's only been two this past year, but still - are-are-are you saying there's been others? That you haven't told me about? Have you been fucking other people while fucking me?"

"Hang on, love, listen, I didn't mean - "

"I think I need to go, this was a mistake - all of this - coming back here, fucking you. I need to go," you huffed, stepping into your Crocs (for a quick escape), and rushing to grab your jacket, purse, and keys. The entire time, Tangerine was trying to amend what he said, but it felt like the (final?) nail in the coffin you had been waiting on; assurance that you needed to be without Aaron. See, upon your casual fuck, you agreed to date and sleep with others if you wanted - you weren't exclusive - but for reasons deemed useless now, you were supposed to tell one another about other partners. And he couldn't even do that?

So, you left his flat, and when he followed you out, he saw you disappear at Olympic sped down the staircase - key to his place left on the hallway floor.

"Well, well," his elderly cougar neighbor leaned in her doorway, watching you go with crossed arms and a smirk, "looks like li'l miss is gone finally, huh? This mean you're available for dinner tonight?"

Tangerine snatched the key from the ground, "Not tonight, Mrs. Roberts."

"It's 'Ms' now," she informed, but Tan didn't even hear; just slipped inside his flat, shut the door, locked it, and stood in the foyer, palm flat, looking at the key as if it were a foreign object, for 37 minutes.

Knowing how upset you were, Tangerine didn't try to contact you. Yet one week after your fight, when he knew your standing "Soul Cycle" class took place and you'd came by after, he set up his flat. He got you dozens of apologetic roses all mixed with bright sunflowers and dotted with baby's breath - bouquets he put together himself. Candles lined the place, all lit within fire code restrictions. He played light, modern instrumental music because he knew it had been on your Spotify playlist - not that he was checking it or anything. He cooked your favorite meal by hand. He cleaned himself up, styled his hair, wore the cologne you got him for your first Christmas together (that he's never changed), and wore the baby blue button-up he knew drove you crazy. To top it all off, he got a very dainty golden bracelet - one that was nice enough to convey the amount he spent (as if money = sincerity of apology) but still simple enough that Ryan wouldn't notice if it became part of your normal jewelry box. In fact, nobody would - except you and Tangerine, the way he likes things. The bracelet is even engraved with a subtle 'A' because no matter who you date, he always knew you'd be his and he'd be yours - but wouldn't point this out to you... Yet.

Your class ends at 6:30, you were never later than 7:05. He was ready and waiting at the door, going over his apology by 6:15. He changed into a new, identical shirt at 6:33 after sweating through the first; drying himself, spraying extra antiperspirant over his torso. He changed the tissue wrapping of his offering bouquet so it wasn't wet from his sweaty palms when he gave it to you at 6:41. At 6:46, he began pacing. Aaron began impulsively checking his phone at 6:53. He didn't have your location anymore (a con to the break-up he strongly protested out of fear for your safety) so he couldn't check if you were lost, in trouble, in traffic, at that smoothie place you loved. 7:15 rolled around, no key in the lock. At 7:22, he called Brian in a panic.

"What's wrong? She's just late, Aaron, take a breath, mate."

"She's never late."

7:30 turned to 8... Then to 9... And finally, at 10, Tangerine realized you were serious - that was the last time together.

The hurt suddenly set in, realizing you're not coming back. Selfishly, he knew, he could fill a void no man - even one as objectively good as Ryan - could. He knew you must've felt lonely; craving adventure and spontaneity, something exciting that he knew you lacked with Ryan - or any man.

For days, he agonized - trying to get in your head.

Without him, were you lonely? His job makes him travel, but did Ryan ever take you anywhere? Did he surprise you? Open your doors? Send you flowers? Keep you waiting? Did Ryan communicate with you in the way Tangerine knew you preferred? Was he kind? ...Were you alone?

He knew for a fact, when together, no matter what, he never made you feel unloved, under appreciated, devalued, taken for granted, but perhaps that changed when he began his allergic reaction to the prospect of marriage.

Two years. Two years since breaking up. One year since you ended your Friends with Benefits situationship. One year, you've been with Ryan, and by God, did it drive Aaron insane. For months, Brian felt a responsibility for his part in pulling Tan away that night instead of leaving him to work things out with you, but his brother assured it was a long time coming... Though, Tan had to admit, he never thought it'd go this long.

Like a good neighbor, Jake from State Farm is there! But like a good brother, Brian is there to take Aaron out for a night of necessary debauchery. This was an otherwise mundane activity, something to blow off steam and remove oneself from reality - yet fate works in really funny ways.

The club Lemon chose was packed to the brim; stuffed with bumping, sweaty bodies; strung out to blaring music in various zombified states induced by drugs, alcohol, or maybe both. Luckily, their group had an elevated position in the club's VIP seating, keeping away from the dance floor; giving limited advantage in height when surveying the area.

That's how Tangerine saw you after a year.

Judging from the glittery sash and cheap tiara on your friend's head, he guessed you were there for a birthday party; feeling his stomach knot itself into a noose when he noted Ryan hovering around your flank. He wore khakis, loafers, a creased, pale yellow button-up he guessed was thrifted; holding his drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, bobbing and nodding awkwardly to the thumping music.

When you moved, so he Ryan. When you threw back a shot, Ryan looked away with a long, heavy sigh and curled lip. When you tried to dance, Tangerine saw Ryan snatch your upper arm to reprimand directly in your ear; a couple of your friends even shooting him looks of distain.

A hand clapped heavily on his shoulder, Lemon appearing at Tan's side. "Only you would come t'a club, mate, crawlin' with babes, yeah?" He gestured to the scantily dressed women dancing provocatively around them with his hand holding a drink, "And stand here, like-like, you're Lurch or some shit!"

"'Lurch'?" Tangerine repeated, eyes never straying from where you were in an obvious disagreement with Ryan.

"Like - you know - from the Addam's Family? Tall fucker? Just stands 'round, leering?" Lemon listed intentionally, seeing his brother unmoving. "Jesus, fuck, mate, just go talk to her already! Swear, you stand here any longer, watchin' people, they'll toss us out 'cause of the complaints. Shape up, mate, time t'shit or get off the pot. Move it."

Tangerine finally adjusted his stance, sniffling, shaking his head, "Nah, mate, don't know what you're talkin' 'bout - "

"She's right fuckin' there," Lemon pointed, outing his brother completely, "and you've been a bitch for too long about this. When are you gonna get another chance like right now? Swallow your fuckin' pride, yeah? And just go talk to her! Go apologize! Get her back! 'Cause, just look at her, mate," Lemon paused, both watching you, "think she's happy with a bloke like that? Treats her like that? Only time I ever saw her look at you like that was the night youse two broke up..."

Lemon offered a pursed-lip-smile, patting Tangerine on the shoulder twice and backing up a couple paces. It was like he watched the final bit of confidence Tan needed inject itself into his heart; shoulders almost doubling in size as he shed his suit jacket too casually. Lemon materialized to accept it, laying it in their private booth as Tangerine lit up a cigarette, pocketed his solid gold cuff links, and began rolling up his sleeves while surging through the VIP section and into the general population.

Lemon followed swiftly, several others on their tail as the promise of excitement was too good to pass up.

"I'm telling you, you're being fucking embarrassing!" Ryan was heard snarling. "Let's go home before you make it worse! I have a reputation to protect, imagine what anyone would say if they saw my girlfriend acting like a fucking fool!"

"Oh, Jesus, I have two shots and you think I'm wasted? That I have to go home? You think you can treat me like I'm some child? I'm not going anywhere with you," you snapped back.

"I told you we'd be here an hour - it's past that - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a birthday party! We weren't ever going to stay just an hour!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, now let's fucking go!" Ryan grabbed you again to emphasize his point, but you didn't even get a chance to struggle because Tangerine was imposing himself between you; plucking his smoldering cigarette from his lips, French inhaling the smoke. Ryan snarled, forced back a step, "The fuck - "

"She said she's not going anywhere with you, so I suggest you walk away," Tangerine growled, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ryan scoffed, looking close to laughing.

"That's my girl you're fucking with, so, again, walk away," he lifted his cigarette for a puff.

"Tangie," you spoke gently, holding the back of his designer black shirt and gently tugging him backward, "Tangie, c'mon, baby, back up, let it go."

"'Your girl'?" Ryan actually laughed at Tan, not hearing you over the deafening music, but the two men were clear as day to one another. "Got it fucked up, playboy, if you're tryna tell me what's what about what's mine."

"Yeah?" Tan nodded, grinning slowly. "Think she's yours?"

"She ain't nobody else's - "

"That why she was coming to me this whole time?" Tan taunted. "'Cause you couldn't make her nut, couldn't fuck her right. What a fucking shame, then she had to come to me 'cause I don't disappoint her. She likes the way I fuck 'cause it's the only time I get rough with her, not like you - "

The gathered crowd gasped when Ryan swung first - everyone saw it. The punch never landed, Tangerine keeping you behind him as he adjusted to upper cut Ryan. It spurred an entire altercation; your girlfriends quickly scurrying out of the way as Ryan and "his boys" tried to take on Tangerine, Lemon, and their entourage. The smoldering cigarette was dropped. Security had to step in, blood making the linoleum floors slicker than spilt alcohol made it sticky, both parties being escorted out of different exits of the venue.

You were faced with a decision.

"Y/N! C'mon!" The birthday girl called, holding up her bloodied boyfriend. Ryan paused and glared at you, face fucked, nose broke, eye darkening, jaw swollen, blood smeared; waiting for your decision. You shook your head and let the drunken crowd swallow your form.

Unsure how, you were let into the VIP section to grab Tangerine and Lemon's belongings, quickly jogging in your glittering heels towards the back exit.

"Should've fuckin' killed him - did you fuckin' hear him!? You saw him, what he did!?" Tangerine was raging, pacing the alley as his group watched on; unsure what to say or do to calm him down. "He fucking grabbed her, too, should go find him - put his fucking face in the Goddamn pavement - "

"Hey."

Tangerine froze when your voice was heard, meekly standing there with suit jackets in arm.

"Baby girl!" Lemon barked, laughing happily and opening his arms. "Oh! There she is! C'mere!" He happily growled, hugging you tightly. The others picked up on the hint, excusing themselves to find the cars while Lemon greeted you and Tangerine almost shit a brick.

"Oh, uh," you breathed when Lem pulled away, "I grabbed your jacket, sweetie."

"Thanks, love, can always count on yah," he beamed, accepting the apparel. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "I, uh, I'll go help find the car. We'll be at the end of the alley, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding; squeezing his arm softly before letting him pass. Almost sheepishly, you approached Tangerine, lips rolled between your teeth, noting the split lip and disheveled curls. His hands were on his hips, pacing a small circle, head tilted and unable to meet your gaze. "You, uh, got a li'l something," you gestured at your mouth.

His head lifted, seeing the small teasing glint to your eyes; making him smirk and joke back, "Yeah, just a bit, huh?"

"And you left this," you held out his suit jacket.

When he took it back, Tangie nodded and rushed, "Come home, doll."

"Aaron - "

"Nah, nah, c'mon, come home, baby, please. I know I've been the worst, I know you didn't deserve it - but after losing you... Actually losing you... I mean, when you didn't show up, like you said - I felt everything at once and I knew that I'd never be the man who deserved you, but I owed it to us to try. So... I made the decision to love you better."

"That's nice to hear, but - "

"But without action, it don't mean shit, I know," he finished for you, stepping closer to caress your cheek. "If you let me, baby, I swear, I'll love you better."

You couldn't verbally answer, just sigh and lean forward to rest your forehead on his chest for just a moment of peace. "Thank you," you mumbled, "for earlier, when Ryan got aggressive."

His arms came around in a vice, keeping you close and enveloped in his warmth. Tangerine promised, "Never gotta thank me, baby. Never." A horn blared from the mouth of the alley, knowing it was Aaron's people and you needed to make a decision. Right here. Right now. Yet, your ex just sighed and pulled away, offering, "We can drop you home, if you like. Or I'll get'cha a hotel, can crash with Brian - "

"Can I stay with you?"

Tangerine gulped, appearing shocked but agreeing, "Of course, baby, yeah, yeah, 'course, c'mon, let's go, this way, watch your step, love."

He quickly dropped his arms only to pull his jacket over your shoulders; keeping you at his side as he lead you to the idling car. Unknown to you, Ryan was at his own car, watching, waiting; seeing you leave with Aaron made his blood boil - but when his eyes connected with Aaron's over the roof of his car, seeing him grin, Ryan swore he could've gone postal.

"Are you guys alright?" You checked, Tan keeping you so close, you were practically on his lap. Brian was driving and two other guys sat passenger, all giving varying assurances that they were okay.

"Them frat fucks couldn't hit for shit, love, swear," Brian chuckled from the front seat. "Don't nobody fuck with our girl, yeah?"

"'Our girl'?" You repeated in amusement.

"You's Tangie's girl, yeah?" The guy next to you, codename Fuji, softly explained, "Makes you's untouchable, it does, yeah?"

You just chuckled slightly, readjusting so your arm around Tan's neck tightened; his own around your hips doing the same, silently snuggling closer. The car ride was entertaining to say the least, the lads filling the space with meaningless but very loud conversation about everything and nothing. To your relief, Lemon pulled up to Tan's building first; you two piling out of the car to the sounds of three randy lads cheering.

"C'mere," Tan huffed, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other offered the tinted car The Bird. He lead you towards the building, nodding to the doorman in greeting, "Big man."

This doorman had manned your building since years before you ever moved in; grinning at the sight of you, "Well, well, well... You two look real smitten, you do. There some reason? Aye?"

"Oh, I don't wanna hear it!" You whined jokingly, Tangerine laughing in triumph.

"Got my girl back," Tan clapped his hand into the doorman's, "huh? Told you."

"Aye-heeeyyyy! Welcome home, Missus!"

"Tuh," you barked with a fake laugh, sending Tangerine a sharp look over your shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas," you squeezed the man's arm as you passed.

"Ma'am," he tipped his hat, letting Tan go after you, before securing the door shut.

"Hear that?" You shot at Tan, the lobby attendant sitting up in attention behind the welcome desk. "Even Tom - "

"Don't start before we even get in the door," he chuckled, sighing, nodding to the pimply teen nephew of the building's owner before approaching the elevator bay.

"Don't be a dick - "

"I'm not trying to be, love, I just - I want us to get inside before we do. Yeah?" He frowned, petting hair from your forehead as the elevator dinged upon arrival. "I want us to talk 'bout it, alluvit, doll, but let us get home first."

You sighed and agreed, the machinery traveling up to your flat's floor; which required a key to access. There were only four flats on this floor - all having two stories - and when the elevator dinged to announce your arrival, one of the doors flew open.

You gasped, hand slapping to your mouth to hold in the shrill laughter that rammed into your lips in a desperate attempt to escape. Your eyes widened. You stopped short in your place when Ms. Roberts sauntered into her doorway, leaning on the frame in brand new, expensive, racy lingerie. Her greying hair was curled in stiff ringlets, her make-up heavy and obvious, smelling like she had bathed in perfume by the way it choked you in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, there. About time you got home - OH!" She purred in a low, sexy rumble before jumping in fright when she caught sight of you under Tangie's protective arm. With a squeal, she ducked back into her home and slammed the door; leaving you and Tan froze in place.

"Oh... My... God."

"Get inside, let's go, c'mon, inside, inside, inside, I won't survive if she comes back," Aaron laughed, ushering you to the door.

"I don't think she would, either," you couldn't help but giggle; entering over the threshold after Tan unlocked the door.

The lighter energy surrounding you two evaporated as you took note that Tangerine hadn't changed anything in the year (and change) you've been separated, a haunting comfort to see now. There was the familiar ghost of who you once were, but all of that was forgotten when Tan's hand slid around your waist from behind.

"All right, love?" He asked in your ear, mouthing at the shell in the way that made your head fall to the side.

"Just a lot of memories here," you whispered, holding his arms to your waist.

Tangerine licked at your exposed neck. "We'll make more," he promised.

"I'm sorry I missed so many."

He paused, sighing; forcing you to shiver from the shock of air over your wet skin. Tan straightened up but kept you in his arms, assuring, "It's my fault. But, uh..." Your head turned to look, watching Tan pull his wallet out and sigh sheepishly, open it, then pluck a gorgeous diamond ring from the bill slot.

"What the hell is that...?"

"When I found it, I first kept it in the box, always on me. Just in case, you know, the moment was right - that you'd believe me when I ask you to marry me. But the box kinda," he shrugged, "fell apart from me openin' it, movin' it around."

"So you put a," you squinted, holding his wrist to look at the ring pinched in his fingers, "3 karat diamond ring in your wallet?"

"3 and a half..."

"Aaron," you sighed, turning to face him fully; unable to tear your gaze away from the ring. "I don't want this ring if - "

"No, no 'ifs'," he rushed, "I swear, it's what I want - it's what I've always wanted and just couldn't admit. After tonight, I don't think I can keep this ring - it needs on your finger and that bastard needs put in the ground - "

"Can you not ruin this proposal by threatening to murder my ex?" You laughed, watching his split lips spread into a grin.

"This a proposal?"

"If you word it right, could be."

"Lemme get on my knee - "

"No," you stopped him, nodding, whispering, "just ask me."

Aaron blinked once in confusion, then simply asked, "Will you marry me?"

You levitated into his arms; arms coiling around his neck; lips to his; sucking air from his lungs into yours, mumbling, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. In surprise, Aaron stumbled back a few steps but caught himself, chuckling, fully hoisting you into his embrace.

"Right answer," he teased, carrying you through the apartment and to the nearest piece of furniture - the couch. Dropping down with you straddling his lap, he chuckled, "Here, put it on, yeah? Keep it safe." You grinned and accepted the ring, letting him slide it on, but unable to admire it in full as it became a free-for-all frenzy; tearing clothes from the other, lips suckling, teeth clashing, spit smearing. Breaking apart for a moment, Tangerine growled, "I don't know if I love or hate tonight, huh? Seein' you with him, sayin' you'll marry me, comin' home - "

"Ace, Tangie? Baby?" You smirked, holding his cheeks to keep his face in front of yours, "Tonight's good - it's a good night. Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"It's a good night - say it."

"A good night - great night."

"Great fuckin' night," you agreed, "now, I need you to fuck me before I spontaneously combust - "

Aaron's mouth was on yours before the words were fully formed. You gasped, holding on tightly, encouraging his tongue to tangle with yours as the night's emotions overtook you both in a searing heat of passion. His hands planted on your hips and began guiding your movements in slow, languid strokes over his growing bulge you were seated on.

With a small growl, Tangerine pulled back only to flip you over; laying your back to the cushions so he could hover over you, his hips grinding between your spread legs. "Mine," he grit, licking into your mouth as he pushed his cock directly into your moistening center, "all mine. Hear me? All fucking mine - you won't ever be with another man. Yeah?"

You weakly whimpered, nodding; his teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling. Your breast was palmed by a hot and heavy hand; gasping when Tangie pinched your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

"Nah, nah, nah," Tan grumbled, "wanna hear you say it, baby. Need to hear it."

Boldly, you reached out to rub the heel of your palm into his leaking member, managing to speak against his lips, "I'm all yours, Aaron. Never anyone else's."

"Yeah?" He grit.

"Yeah," you nodded, giving a flex of your hand that made his shoulders stiffen, "and no other man will know me - nor will I know another man. It's you and me."

"About fuckin' time; ain't never lettin' you go again, baby," he breathed, taking both wrists in his to pin over your head. "Now... Let me make up for this past year."

Ms. Roberts wore noise canceling headphones the entire night and began researching new apartment buildings available for move-in ASAP.

Dawn broke, filling the room with a warm, bright light that accentuated the smoke wafting from Aaron's mouth. Neither of you got any sleep; exhausted in the best way possible, laid in bed, your head on his shoulder with arms bent to mindlessly twiddle together in the air.

"Remember that first retreat your company sent employees on?" Aaron asked softly, his other hand flicking his cigarette ash into a nearby ashtray.

"Hm... The one to Cancún?"

"Yeah."

"The one I missed 'cause we had a 48-hour romp?"

Tangerine laughed slightly, "That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Just... Laying here made me think of it. How fucked-out you were, how you missed your damn plane."

"You made me miss it!"

"That sounds accusatory."

You grinned when he lowered the cigarette to your lips, letting you puff it before pulling away. On exhale, you reminded, "You're the one who couldn't cut me a damn break."

"Since when do you want me to go easy on this pussy? Huh?"

With a snicker, you mused, "When you're whiskey-drunk and I'm drinking champagne?"

Tangie paused, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, that's fair. Whiskey dick ain't a joke, love."

You hummed and turned on your side into him, hiking your leg over his hips; snuggling into his warmth, new angle allowing you to gaze up at him. His arm laid around you in a secure hold, the other lazily smoking. You added, "Neither is being champagne drunk, makes me queazy."

"Probably not the best combination for fucking, huh?"

"I don't recommend it."

Aaron was quiet a moment, inhaling toxic smoke with a hiss through his teeth, "Bet they got champagne on them planes to Cancún."

"Bet they got champagne for other destinations, too," you teased. "Besides, why do you care? You're banned from popping bottles."

"Huh? Since when - why?"

"Since you sprayed me with a bottle that cost more than $3,000 USD!"

"If I can't spray my girl in luxury, what the fuck is this all for?" He smirked, looking down at you fondly.

"That bottle was meant to shmooze the German Ambassador!"

"Well, someone should've put a label on it!" You laughed his name, feeling his arm tighten. He tacked on, "Y'know, I gotta admit, just doesn't feel real yet."

"Hmm?"

"You... Back in my arms, in our bed - our home," he gave a great big deep sigh.

"It'll get real when people know we're back together."

"Is it wrong I want it to just be us for a bit? Private, intimate, just being together without everyone's outside influence or opinion?"

You smiled softly, "No, it's not wrong... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the same."

"Then how about we catch a flight outta here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he beamed, suddenly struck with renewed vigor; positively radiating with excitement. You pulled off his chest in time for him to sit up, insisting, "Let's do it all again, baby. Let's catch a flight, change the weather to celebrate us promising forever."

"Tangie, baby, what're you talking about? We can't just up and leave - "

"Why not?"

"We have jobs! Or at least, I have a job with a consistent schedule."

"Oh, c'mon, doll, don't think too hard - let's go, let's catch a flight somewhere warm and sunny."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Tangerine shrugged, "Not likely. Can think of it as some engagement celebration - but just between us. I mean, it's never gonna be 'just us' again, you know?"

With a sigh, you agreed, "All right... Let's go."

"All right?"

"Yeah, all right, fine."

"Yeah? All right? Fine?"

"Oh, fuck about - don't parrot me, Aaron!"

He chuckled with a grin so wide, you wondered how it didn't split his face in two. Your fiancé playfully dropped onto your front; jostling the bed, arms planted on either side of you to keep his weight balancd while dotting rapid kisses around your face.

When satisfied, he pulled back and all but bounced out of bed while encouraging, "Let's go, c'mon!"

"Baby, wait - "

"You grab the passports, I'll pack for us!"

You paused to watch him rush into the walk-in closet, laughing and muttering as you climbed out of bed, "I'm gonna be in questionable clothing this whole vacation, aren't I?" There was a fond smile on your face.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[mspaesthetic]

Tidbit: The "Threshold" Effect of Desaturated Objects Due to Increased Contrast

If you've ever asked how to replicate an effect like this...

...it's likely someone told you to apply the threshold filter, which converts any light colors to pure white, and any dark colors to pure black. And it's perfectly fine to do so. It's simple, straightforward, efficient. But I take issue with the assertion that it's definitively the only conceivable way Hussie did it when the evidence points to the contrary. Scrutinize the following examples under a microscope:

Did you see it? The singular detail that distinguishes these images from ones that have been thresholded? Congratulations if you noticed that these contain not only black and white pixels, but GRAY pixels as well! A threshold filter's conversion is binary; a pixel is either black, or it is white. No in-between. The presence of these gray values rules out its use, then.

One thing is clear, at least: these images are black and white in the traditional sense of the term, i.e. "grayscale", even if it's in drastic form. They've been stripped of any color, hue, chroma. Completely desaturated, in other words.

So from this observation, we can reason that they were converted to be grayscale at some point in the process of editing.

Of course, this is still lacking in the pure black and pure white departments. If only there was a way to adjust the intensity levels and push them both to their extremes... oh wait, THERE IS! Using the Levels adjustment tool!

Pushing the black input levels slider to the right makes all dark colors turn darker, and conversely, pushing the white input levels slider to the left makes any light colors turn lighter. This is a great way of increasing the contrast and adjusting the brightness. Speaking of which, the Brightness/Contrast adjustment tool in Photoshop with "Use Legacy" enabled also accomplishes a nearly identical effect.

This timelapse demonstrates how the Brightness/Contrast adjustment is basically equivalent to using the Levels one when used this way

I say nearly identical because raising the contrast all the way to 100% with Brightness/Contrast makes it actually identical with the Threshold adjustment tool. The black and white input levels sliders can't fully join in the middle because of the gray input level slider occupying the space, hence why there are some stray gray pixels even when pushing them to their limits.

Well, there could be several reasons explaining why there could be gray pixels other than the contrast not being high enough to clip them, but I'll spare you another needlessly complicated and overly technical rambling on how I can tell it's most definitely the Levels adjustment tool always.

This post is getting a little long, so I'll stop here and elaborate a little more on pertinent things under the read more link, like semi-opaque pixels, scaling down, sharpening, and the gamma slider. Also here's the potted plant PSD if you wanna check it out I guess.

ADDENDUM

Semi-opaque pixels

When separating objects from a background, it's usually easiest to do so with a magic wand selection tool, which selects regions of similar colors. There's an option to make the selection anti-aliased, smoothing the edges of whatever you've cropped. Unchecking it will make the pixels hard and jagged. The wine bottle and picnic basket are a good example of each, respectively.

If you've already cropped out something with anti-aliasing enabled, there's still a way to sharpen the edges after the fact. Duplicating the layer multiple times will increase the semi-transparent pixels' opacity. Do it enough times and they'll eventually become completely opaque. An analogy would be stacking multiple panes of tinted glass on top of each other. Stack enough of them and you wouldn't be able to see through anymore.

These semi-opaque black pixels would appear gray on a white background, and so would semi-opaque white pixels on a black one. That's the reason for the gray pixels around the edges on some of these examples.

Scaling down/Sharpening

Suppose you've already gone ahead and went through the whole rigamarole of editing the object to be black and white before deciding firmly on the size of it in your composition, and now you think it could be a little smaller. You could always resize it and scale it down, but with the interpolation method set to none/nearest-neighbor, it's going to look kind of shit, and with it set to something else like bilinear or bicubic, the anti-aliasing is going to make it a bit blurry (introducing these gray values). You could increase the contrast again, or you could use the Sharpen filter to do it.

Not to suggest that this particular example was scaled down after editing, it's just the one that looks closest to it since I'm too lazy to make one.

Sharpening repeatedly will bump up the contrast, plus Photoshop's Sharpen filter has the added benefit of hardening any semi-opaque pixels as well, making the edges sharper.

GIMP's Sharpen filter doesn't do that latter part, unfortunately, but if the layer has an opaque white background, it'll do the same.

Gamma slider

This effect might not be so obvious, but really take a good look at these board games:

Actually, maybe this Problem Sleuth bonus panel shows what I mean better:

The dark values are cranked up very high, and so are the light values a bit, but there's an inordinate amount of midrange values that are on the lighter side than what would be normal. That's because of the midtones input levels slider, the gray slider, the gamma slider, whatever.

I'm toot tired to explain any more than that, so make of that what you will. The end.

[p1nk-matter]

✧ yan!gojo who stumbles upon you on the subway

✧ yan!gojo who excuses himself and offers to help you, his body crashed with impact as you got off and you fell on your wrists / wasn’t something major after all

✧ yan!gojo who gets you home and cooks for you, you can’t use your hand properly so he wants to make up for his clumsiness

✧ yan!gojo who kisses you goodbye, not wanting to break off the kiss. you don’t either, hence he’s pulled inside and you straddle his lap with meaning

✧ yan!gojo who learns the way your body functions, always aiming to please, experimenting with his fingers inside you and studying your expressions

✧ yan!gojo who's still submissive to all your sexual needs; he’s super sensitive and groans with just a simple touch on his waistband, cock pulsating through his boxers as you rub and giggle

✧ yan!gojo who sees light in your eyes, you are the first person he thinks of when he wakes up; a vicious cycle really because it’s not like he doesn’t see you when asleep, you're part of his subconscious mind

✧ yan!gojo who suggests something serious between you two, you nod and he smiles, he’s fully yours now

✧ yan!gojo who texts your friends from your phone then deletes all messages, you notice they rarely hit you up but presume they’re busy at first

✧ yan!gojo who knows most people use VPN to protect themselves but he just uses it to talk to you and stalk you unbothered, wanting to test your loyalty (and check your whereabouts!)

✧ yan!gojo who goes through your chats with a coworker, he told you your hair looks nice and gojo can’t think straight. he goes missing a couple days later, your boss saying he’s suspended for investigation but no one hears from him after

✧ yan!gojo who of course never really stumbled in the first place, he’d been following you for about a year once he spotted you walking carelessly back home (seriously how could you not look after yourself more? it was dangerous out there)

✧ yan!gojo who laughs and presents himself as this playful guy but really, people just don't give him enough credit, he thinks

edit: wrote a full fic on this

[your-local-uwu-artist]

me: 'haha i should draw alcor if he was funkin on a friday night, just nice and simple 5 drawings with very simple quick squash and stretch bounce style animation'

also me:

-ended up drawing seperate frames instead of just squash and stretching it

-needed to do wings and tail separately so that the movement/timing looks better (i think this is called follow-through?)

-wants to ad glow effect because the background (which i actually let myself have a break with it's just the skid and pump bg with a lot of color editing + added shading) is a little too dark

-realizes that because the wings and tail are seperate I can't just do my usual copy paste to make glow effect

-REALIZES I CAN JUST SELECT THE TRANSPARENT THEN INVERSE SELECTION TO DO IT

-gets ready to export as gif only to realize that my colors are too powerful even with dithering (hence the .mov lmao)

-anyway yeah so i wen't overboard as I do! but it was fun!!!! :DDDD

heres the other pose sketches btw

sense these are just poses and not like the idle animation these should stay simple animation wise!

anyway! I was gonna wait til it was all done to post this but argh I love drawing I love art I love fandom and I love sharing >:DDDDD

I'm posting this like right after finsihing so I hope it's actually good lmao XD

[mitsvriii]

LOVE LANGUAGES

ft. genshin men

bell's note: sorry if the matte looks weird or too bright it's my first time messing around with it, might want to read it on a dark/darker mode just in case, experimenting with a more descriptive writing style so if we like let me know, no specific reader type, not proofread or word counted so if there are mistakes let me know, ga-ming is not included because i haven't been up-to-date with genshin and do not want to mischaracterize him

also date is weird because i accidentally posted and had to edit privately so oopsies

words of affirmation

kazuha, thoma, baizhu, neuvillette, zhongli, diluc

Whether it be a small word of encouragement or a simple, "you're doing great today", he always seems to know what to say and when to say it. His words soft as a dew drop falling from leaf to leaf in a misty morning, hitting your ears with such motion that you cannot help the smile that graces your lips, and lifts up the corners of them; like the movement of a picnic blanket being spread out on a flowery field.

quality time

kaeya, ajax, diluc, ayato, itto, gorou, neuvillette, wriothesley

Despite his busy days or numerous tasks for the day, whenever he gets a break he always goes to spend it with you first. Strolls down moonlight paths, childish games galore among hushed giggles, silent remarks exchanged between the flipping of a book's pages, or adoring smiles with stones that fail to jump the stream's waves like dolphins in the ocean. While your time may be short together as duties will call him back, your graceful smile and happy laughter will fill his lungs with purpose and a calm spirit for days to come.

physical touch

freminet, wanderer, tighnari, lyney, thoma, venti

A lingering hand tracing stars onto your back, each touch making your stress dissolve like sugar on your tongue. In other situations, it's a slightly calloused hand latching onto yours perfectly, as if your two hands were magnets meeting each other as one. A firm yet gentle grasp of his hands onto your hips as he oh-so-softly moves you to the side, your shoulders brushing against each other as he walks ahead of you. It could even be the way his thumb traces your cheek on quiet nights in bed, but no matter what it is your stomach is akin to churning butter whenever he touches you.

acts of service

neuvillette, zhongli, tighnari, alhaitham, heizou, xiao, cyno

Holding open a door amidst the sunny heat waves, waiting oh-so-patiently for you to reach it in your midst. It's even the simple offer to do the dishes or clean up around the house for you after a long day of work. Your clean clothes that were previously in a messy pile on the bed the moment you left your shared home for the day were put away neatly in their respective places in your bedroom by the time you returned home. Food prepared early with a little note, with sweet whispers decorated with ink on the note attached to the plate. Although he might seem cold or awfully busy at times, the things he does for you just because he can, says completely otherwise.

gift giving

xiao, zhongli , neuvillette, ajax, lyney, ayato, diluc, venti, kaveh

A bouquet of freshly picked flowers lying on your doorstep. Or an odd trinket from Archons knows what but he's so proud about acquiring it for you that you can't help the laugh that leaves your lungs. If you're lucky he'll find the ingredients to make his special dish, placing it beside you before retreating back to whatever he was busy with that day, but not before giving your temple a soft kiss. On rainy days he'll appear soaked to the bone, a boyish grin lacing his pretty face, with a chipped-off gem in his hands, claiming that the rain smoothed it out for him; hence why he had to get it instead of waiting for the rain to pass. No matter the gift he brings, though, you always cherish them no matter what

[katsurinssims]

Big DSB sailor separates set!

This top comes from a DSB TM outfit, and is the base for my seifuku meshes- plus I made a recolour and age conversion of it a few years ago ^^ I wanted to make a separate top version of it, too, but the main thing holding me back was that it's got parts that overlap with the textures for a bottom, so wouldn't display properly with most bottoms if everything was in one group. So finally, here's a mesh with a 'noblend' group, which will now work with all sorts of bottoms! It's admittedly the first time I've done this, and the mesh files aren't the cleanest in the world, but it's working and I'm very pleased with myself ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

There's 8 selected Aelia colour mixes plus 4 patterns. Ages CU, TF and TM, casual only. The textures are based on the DSB originals but with quite a few edits, as I edited the mesh a lot, too. TF is a bit more flat chested than a typical TF mesh, but I'm much more happy with the CU mesh than my seifuku defaults, as it doesn't have the extra shading in the chest area (being a conversion from TM). It did take a lot of adjusting and maybe not 100% perfect, but all the same I'm much more happy with it. Available standalone or other ages/genders repo to TM, fully compressorized and labelled with swatch in the file.

Download DSB sailor top standalone

Download DSB sailor top repo to TM

I made three sets of bottoms to match the tops. For TF, @persimmonthusiast's shoeswap of Cat's French Farmer skirt with boots, with textures based on @goatskickin's lovely pleated recolours. For CF it's pretty much just those textures popped onto my Fruits kid skirts. For CU and TM I made a fairly simple recolour of @godlimpingby's Elias trousers with Pixicat’s docs- these come either standalone or repo to TM. It was pretty hard to keep the colours consistent between the tops and bottoms, I've done my best to keep everything matching. Everything's casual but the French sailor skirt and Elias sailor trousers are also categorised as outerwear as they're longer and cover much more aha. Everything's compressorized and labelled, with swatches and meshes in the files (the colour names vary slightly from the tops, hence the additional swatches).

Download French sailor skirt for TF

Download fruits sailor skirt for CF

Download Elias sailor trousers for CU + TM Standalone

Download Elias sailor trousers repo to TM

Buy me a coffee? I have a Ko-Fi!

additional credits: maxis for some base textures, Trillyke’s pattern bundle, Sedma's plaid patterns

ETA:

Forgor I made a recolour PSD for the top that some may find useful! You can grab that here ^^

[blu3haw4]

Hi, hello, remember when i posted a little fic two years ago called 'loved your parting gift (dead people are my favorite)' and then last year i talked about how that world lives in my mind rent free and how I've imagine that very cathartic scene of Lexa bleeding at Clarke's place and her calling Anya to watch Lexa while she feeds from countless people because the sent of Lexa's blood makes her incredibly thirsty? Do you remember?

Well i didn't write that scene (actually i did but it's not edited and I'm not sure i want it to be precisely like that so) instead I wrote a little night months after, a little look into their abettor-ship.

I feel like in the first installment it looks a little like these two are pretty serious, but in my head this fic is a little cracky. Like sure Lexa is Commander of the 12 clans full of werewolf packs (this isn't abo btw) sure she's the most powerful alpha of her people, sure she can control other alphas as though they were her beta's. But also she's just a girl. She's practically 21yo (210 in reality (215 actually, which makes Clarke want to celebrate her sweet (2)16's) but she's a wolf so its the same) and she just really likes this very pretty girl, mysterious and possibly incredibly dangerous but also just a girl who with all her power (and years on earth) is actually just chilling.

So here's that little night

For Clextober 2024, Idea 16 (already on ao3)

The Halloween Party

“A Halloween party? Seriously?” Lexa deadpanned.

“A custom party” Clarke clarified, covered excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, I got that part”

“Don’t sound so excited” She rolled her eyes.

“Of course I’m not excited Clarke, I’ve seen enough terrible representation of my kind? Don’t you hate those of yours?”

“Why would I?” Clarke laughed “few are exaggerated versions the fictional character created about us, and most are pretty simple and very accurate representation of how we really look like... humans with fangs and blood dripping down our mouths. And, by the way, I think the latest tv shows have done a pretty good job at representing your kind”

“When was the last time you saw a werewolf?” Lexa narrowed her eyes, she can’t remember the last time she saw a werewolf custom or tv show, but they were never flattering, and the few movies she knew about weren’t great either.

“I’m standing right in front of one!”

“Before that” Lexa rolled her eyes.

“Irrelevant, trirku, I’ve seen you fully and partially wolfed out as well as human size, you’ve got to admit they’re getting it right -finally”

“Trikru is not-“

“Your last name, I know, but you don’t have one, so suck it up” Clarke interrupts, with that sweet, little flirty tone she used to mock her -and to calm the bad guys she dried to feed- “You’re the one who rejected Woods”

“Because that’s just stupid-” before Clarke could jump with some retort again, she railed the conversation back “Why is it necessary? To go to this party?”

“Because!” Clarke rolled her eyes sighing, it had been an intense few months since they met, what started as just tense avoidance quickly turned into a series of unfortunate events that landed them on a weird abettor-ship. The vampire had to get used to sharing a city with a huge clan of werewolves’ packs, all the while making sure they weren’t sniffing around where they shouldn’t, whatever that’d be other super-natural creatures’ business or outright hunter houses. She hadn’t done the best job at it from afar, hence their fragile alliance.

“You said you wanted in on the majority of non-humans around here, this is your way of mingling”

“But why a Halloween party?”

“Because it’s fun! Because we hide every day, most have a lot more covering up to do than you and I. Halloween is the perfect opportunity to hide in plain sight, is the one occasion they get to be themselves around those they call friends without any judgment”

‘Do you have friends?’ Was the question in Lexa’s mind, but she kept it there, the line between professionalism and friendship or whatever with Clarke were blurry enough already. She’s made enough mistakes the past six months that led her down dangerous paths, she owed it to her clan to stay focused, to mend those mistakes, no matter how much she just wanted to get to know Clarke.

“You sure it’s a good idea?”

“Yes! For one you’ll get to do something fun, and two, how else will you know who’s pissed that you and your clan are here and who doesn’t give a shit?”

“Isn’t that the point of our agreement?”

“I agreed to help you, not do you binding” Clarke deadpanned “Look as far as I’m aware there hasn't been a pack around for about fifty years, most witches I know don’t care about you, but there’s plenty of vampires around who love to feed into our animosity. This party is your chance to check the field, some ghouls hide perfectly and won’t care that you pissed off hunters, there’s fairies though I’m sure would love to help them, there’s a variety of chimeras that-”

“Okay. I get it. Plenty of creature, perfect night, perfect chance”

“Exactly. Efficiency” Clarke winked at her.

With a sigh Lexa stood up “Fine, I’ll be here at seven”

“You better be in a nice custom!” Clarke called after her “You don’t want people to think you’re a boring ass human!” Lexa rolled her eyes yet started to plan her outfit for the following night.

She showed up at seven sharp, in simple black jeans and a white shirt, cut and styled to look worn, her hair braided and held by a bandanna at the top of her head, her make-up was exaggerated, all meat to portray a pirate. She thought she complied to Clarke’s petition, yet her hopes for a compliment fell when the Vampire opened the door.

“You didn’t come as a were?!”

“No! I am one!” She huffed.

“That’s the point!” Clarke chuckles turning around, in her plain fitting black dress, black high heels and… a cape. Because of course she was a vampire. “Such a wasted opportunity” she rolled her eyes, cheeky grin fangs out and all, clearly pleased with her own ‘custom’. Lexa felt a little silly, knowing she spent all day crafting hers.

“I mean don’t get me wrong-” Clarke cut her train of thought, looking her up and down, still grinning, licking her left fang -it was always the left one, same side where that beauty mark sat atop her lip- not that Lexa paid attention or anything. “This fit is… damn, hot as fuck, Trikru, you really leaned into it” And okay, Lexa wasn’t expecting that, so who could blame her if she blushed a little.

“Well, you… said to make it nice”

“It is nice… very nice” Clarke nodded, looking her up and down again as she kept licking that damn fang, how was Lexa supposed to focus on the mission. And okay, it wasn’t really a mission, but she was still supposed to focus on making connections not on… well. Clarke.

They left shortly after, and Lexa was informed on the way that this Halloween party was, actually, several parties. A few different parties they would go to through the night.

And so, they spend about an hour -and a half sometimes- at each party, Lexa meets all of Clarke’s contacts -all witches- and learns to recognize the faces of few vampires who don’t seem to like her. She asks how come they don’t approach them and seem to back away from Clarke, but she deflects, says she’s not sure and bets they’re just smart enough to not mess with Lexa. But she knows it can’t be just that, she doesn’t push it though, just hopes Clarke will trust her enough one day to tell her, after all their relationship at the moment pretty much consisted of exchanging information.

By midnight Lexa had a pretty clear idea of how most creatures felt about her and her clan, she met a few chimeras that lived with packs and seemed to hope that they’d protect them from the hunters, while lone ones kept their distance from her. Ghouls and fairies alike seem all over the place, some wanted to meet her, some seem scared of her, others just outright grossed by her presence. It gave her a good feeling of what she would be dealing with for the next few years of their stay.

So, with her mission accomplished, she finally listened to Clarke and agreed to have fun. With the elixirs provided by Clarke’s witches friends, the pair was able to enjoy the nice numbing of their drinks -not that Clarke wasn’t already a little drunk and high from the few humans she fed from.

Lexa learned over the course of the first two months after her arrival that Clarke had a method of feeding that didn’t involve drinking them dry, and didn’t even leave a mark. The watching had begun with Lexa following her after their first face-to-face encounter, feeling the need to check that Clarke’s victims were in fact the predators she claimed them to be.

That’s how she found her flirting with people at bars and promising a good time, offering them a vape and saying it had weed to cover up the later dizziness, taking them a out to a more private corner and making out with them, Clarke would kiss their necks, nibbling and licking to activate the sedative from her saliva and then biting them to drink from them, they would think she was leaving a hickey when in reality she was only drinking a little of their blood -the equivalent of two exam doses, she would later learn- before licking the wound to heal it close. She’d take them back inside and leave after a while.

Lexa had memorized the pattern, Clarke would drink from four different people per night, and she would skip three nights if she drank someone dry. She wasn’t sure if Clarke was aware of it, she had an idea that Clarke could scent her every time, but she had stopped following her after the first time they spoke. Falling to the conclusion -and promptly ignoring it- that her obsession with the habit had come from wanting to be a part of the rotation of… donors.

-It meant she didn’t realize when the pattern changed, after the night she bled at Clarke’s place, the vampire started to feed every night even if she dried someone, the number of doses per night increased and even some were taken during the day. Clarke didn’t tell her, afraid to accept the reason of her newfound insatiable thirst-

And so, she found herself at the last party mildly drunk, doing everything in her power to keep Clarke’s focus on her, because her inhibition was low and her instincts her directing her more than her conscious, and Clarke kept looking for humans to woo and drink from, not because she need it -or so Lexa thought- just because she wanted to, because she was having fun and she wasn’t -technically- hurting anybody. And Lexa didn’t really want to stop her, she just… wanted her to not kiss other people.

And Clarke kept telling her that she was no fun, that she should let loose and enjoy the night, and Lexa was really trying, but she didn’t know how to without completely exposing herself. Because even her wolf wanted Clarke to bite her, her big bad alpha soul wanted to be bitten, and how was Lexa really supposed to deny that.

So, she showed her she could be fun, she drank and danced with Clarke, and she did her best at flirting, and she noticed when Clarke noticed. She noticed when Clarke stopped looking around for humans, she noticed her flirting turning up from her natural, and she noticed how she danced differently with her. She noticed the way she wouldn’t stop licking her fangs and biting her lips.

She noticed she was breathing heavily “Why are you breathing?” Lexa asked.

Clarke giggled, tilting her head to rest their foreheads together “What?” she sighed with a drunken laugh.

“You don’t need to breath” Lexa hushed, giggling a little too as they stumbled more than danced “Why are you doing it?”

“Oh… well-” and again with the fang-licking, Lexa was sure that a few more time and she wouldn’t be able to hold back the need to capture that tongue “The feeding, y’know how I get drunk because they’re drunk?” she asks, motioning vaguely with her hands and chuckling when Lexa pulls her back to her after she stumbled back.

“It happens because… I kinda… absorb a little of their life. Not like… take from… their time, just-” She tasked, and Lexa couldn’t decide if she should fixate of her mouth or her eyes, bluer than she’d ever seen them “like the blood makes me… alive, for however long it takes my body to… fully…” another giggle, another misstep “absorb it”

“Oh yeah?” Lexa nodded, unable to contain the smile on her face, she bumped her nose with Clarke “Sounds fun” she hushes, because if they stop talking, she might end up kissing her.

And okay, it was what she wanted, but she knew it was a bad idea, and she didn’t want to initiate it anyways.

“It is” Clarke nods, grinning widely “It’s why my eyes are lighter… or bluer… I guess”

“Really?” Lexa leans back, wanting to get a better look, and Clarke unconsciously leans forward, almost chasing her.

“Yep” she sighs this time when their foreheads press together again, there a slumber looks in her eyes now “You know how they’re… black, before I feed?” Lexa only hums her agreement “That’s the… monster”

“Hey, no, don’t call it that. That’s the hunger” Lexa says, and she’s had both arms around Clarke’s waits this whole time, so she lifts one up to cares the side of her neck. “You’re not -We’re not monsters” Clarke eyes her, not buying it.

And Lexa knows, she knows that this is not a worry Clarke carries every day, she knows the vampire is self-aware and has probably lived longer than Lexa is capable of wrapping her head around. She knows these are drunk insecurities that won’t be there in the morning- or in a few hours- but she needs to calm them, because she also knows that is a worry that comes from deep, deep down in her core.

“You are cable of feeding without killing. And even if you had to kill to do it, you wouldn’t be different than an animal. You wouldn’t be different than a werewolf. We’re not that much different than humans”

Clarke’s hands have moved from Lexa’s shoulder to her arms, up her neck and into her hair in a sequence since they started dancing. In the breath after Lexa finishes speaking, one hand moves back into her hair and the other stays holding her arm, a subtle tilt of her head it’s all that’s needed for the lips to connect as she pulls Lexa closer in every way.

Lexa’s breath catches in her throat as her arms instinctively wrap around Clarke and she answers the kiss eagerly. It’s slow for a second, they adjust to the press of Clarke’s fangs in a tight press of lips. Then it intensifies, there’s a brief separation before they both lean in again, stronger, deeper. They pull each other close and sigh into each other’s mouth, Lexa gasps and Clarke smirks every time her fang nibs Lexa’s tongue or lips, and they absently move out of the makeshift dance floor.

They don’t bump into anyone, their super senses kick in and helping them navigate the crowded room without even looking. Clarke sucks on Lexa’s lower lip with a softness that makes Lexa forget there’s sharp fangs behind those lips. She licks into Clarke’s mouth anyways, learning each time where to go and how to enjoy it, Clarke’s tongue guides her too, she absolutely enjoys that part the most.

Lexa is leaned against the hallway wall, the window beside them is open and the breeze is a nice contrast to the warm of their bodies pressed against each other, hands pulling and wandering as they exchange heated kisses.

Lexa gaps and turns her head away from the kiss suddenly, her reflexes kick in when Clarke leans for -a kiss to- her neck and her arm goes up to grab Clarke by the throat. She pauses, confused, still holding Lexa close, and then she hears it too, the faith distinguished howl of a wolf; Clarke can tell is a werewolf, Lexa understands the entire message.

“I need to go” she says, still looking out, eyes red now, fangs out.

“Do you need help?” Clarke sobers up, she doesn’t move though, neither of them do.

“No. You shouldn’t come” and finally Lexa pulls away, Clarke takes a step back with her and their arms drop when Lexa moves to go back into the main room “Clarke. I mean it. Don’t follow” she says, and she tries to ignore the looks on her face, tries not to read too much into the flash of darkening eyes, and leaves without looking back.

[dragonmarquise]

How to Deal with Windows 10/11 Nonsense

This is more for my own reference to keep all of this on one post. But hopefully others will find this useful too! So yeah, as the title says, this is a to organize links and resources related to handling/removing nonsense from Windows 10 and Windows 11. Especially bloatware and stuff like that Copilot AI thing.

First and foremost, there's O&O Software's ShutUp10++ (an antispy tool that help give you more control over Windows settings) and App Buster (helps remove bloatware and manage applications). I've used these myself for Windows 10 and they work great, and the developers have stated that these should work with Windows 11 too!

10AppsManager is another bloatware/app management tool, though at the moment it seems to only work on Windows 10.

Winaero Tweaker, similar to ShupUp10++ in that it gives you more control over Windows to disable some of the more annoying settings, such as disabling web search from the taskbar/start menu and disabling ads/tips/suggestions in different parts of the OS. I think ShupUp10++ covers the same options as this one, but I'm not entirely sure.

OpenShell, helps simplify the Start Menu and make it look more like the classic start menu from older versions of Windows. Should work with both 10 and 11 according to the readme.

Notes on how to remove that one horrible AI spying snapshots feature that's being rolled out on Windows 11 right now.

Article on how to remove Copilot (an AI assistant) from Windows 11.

Win11Debloat, a simple script that can be used to automatically remove pretty much all of the bullshit from both 10 and 11, though a lot of its features are focused on fixing Windows 11 in particular (hence the name). Also has options you can set to pick and choose what changes you want!

Article on how to set up Windows 11 with a local account on a new computer, instead of having to log in with a Microsoft account. To me, this is especially important because I much prefer having a local account than let Microsoft have access to my stuff via a cloud account. Also note this article and this article for more or less the same process.

I will add to this as I find more resources. I'm hoping to avoid Windows 11 for as long as possible, and I've already been used the O&O apps to keep Windows 10 trimmed down and controlled. But if all else fails and I have to use Windows 11 on a new computer, then I plan to be as prepared as possible.

Edit 11/1/2024: Two extra things I wanted to add onto here.

A recommended Linux distro for people who want to use Linux instead of Windows.

How to run a Windows app on Linux, using Wine. Note that this will not work for every app out there, though a lot of people out there are working on testing different apps and figuring out how to get them to work in Wine.

The main app I use to help with my art (specifically for 3D models to make references when I need it) is Windows only. If I could get it to work on Linux, it would give me no reason to use Windows outside of my work computer tbh (which is a company laptop anyways).

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Plus Baby Makes Three {One-Shot}**

Title: Plus Baby Makes Three {One-Shot} **

Lewis Hamilton x GF Reader

Words: 5.8k

Warning: Mild Angst, Fluff, Fun & Games, NSFW, Mild Breeding Kink, Preggo talk, Preggo Prank, Preggo Fic, Crude Language, Dirty Talk

Summary: It was supposed to be a retaliation prank. A simple, easy prank to get back at Lewis for the one he’d pulled on you months before. You didn’t expect it to turn out like this.

As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Your entire relationship with Lewis had been a never-ending frat party. You enjoyed the same pastimes, including video games, nature, traveling, and pranks.

Hell, your relationship had started on a prank you'd done to your friends pretending to be in the middle of getting it in when they walked in. Everyone's reactions were the same "finally". You both were speechless as they all confessed they knew it was a matter of time before you saw the sparks and finally did something about it.

After admitting it was all a prank you were alone later that night when your first kiss happened. That torpedoed into your first night together. Hence beginning a beautiful, fun, and stress-free relationship

Now 3 years later, things were still going strong. You pranked each other often, a few of those pranks playing out through social media.

Everyone loved your relationship even the diehard Lewis thirsters who wanted him for themselves. They saw how happy he was with you and how unproblematic you were and fell in line to support you.

It had been a while since you pranked him and you could tell he'd lowered his guard. You’d spent weeks laying the groundwork. Weeks dropping hints and playing up faux symptoms and your period symptoms just to make this an easy sell.

You decided this would be a perfect thing to record so set up your filming equipment that you used for your gaming streams and makeup vlogs then got yourself ready.

"You are evil for this."

Snorting, you dropped onto your back and cackled.

"It’s not that bad."

"Not that bad? Y/N he is going to flip. I just don’t know what, a table or himself."

You laughed some more. Your best friend, Zoe was right. It was really 50/50 how this would go. You suspected it would be on the flipping-a-table side though. You hesitated momentarily, wondering if you should reformulate and try again. However, within seconds you committed.

You attached the ultrasound picture that you'd gotten from a lesser-known pregnancy website and edited with an arrow pointing to the blip of an embryo. You’d inserted a few words onto the picture.

"Little Hamilton says hello and can’t wait to meet you guys".

After scanning the picture again for typos and to make sure it all looked good, you started on your caption.

"What are you going to write?"

"Short and sweet right? Anything extra will be suspicious. Let's see. Ummm...ooh I know."

You began and read it aloud as you typed.

"I wanted you guys to find out at the same time as @lewishamilton. Omgg guys 🥺. I am so excited.🤗 Thank you @lewishamilton for this incredible gift. I love you more than words can say and am so happy and honored to be on this journey with you. Can't wait to meet you baby Hamilton. You are already loved so much.❤️🤰🏽👶🏽🍼 #babyhamilton2024 #surprisewerepregnant #bunintheoven

#babybyhamilton

#heshotupmyclub

#sunsoutbutthisbunisstillcooking #filledwithlove #coming2024

"Oh my god. The world is going to lose their shit," Zoe said.

"The world? He's gonna lose his shit. And---posted."

You turned your notification sound all the way up then placed your phone beside you and picked up the TV remote.

"Ready? Let’s see how far we get."

You pressed play on the movie you guys had selected on Prime and settled in. Before the movie had even gotten past the black screen, your notifications went blaring one after the other at rapid fire.

"Holy shit, your bestie squealed.

By the time the opening credits showed up, your phone began chiming with texts.

"Oh my god, barely 2 minutes. Is it Lewis?"

You looked while being very careful not to go into the messages. You wanted to play this very calm, cool, and collected. Sure enough, there was Lewis' name with the circled number indicating how many unread messages remained, increasing with each second.

"Oh my god. He is flipping out I bet."

You put it down and cackled. It was no use playing the movie because with the rapid-fire sounds from your phone, it would be impossible to pay attention. You didn’t click into Lewis' messages and instead read what showed up in the preview.

MSG Lewis: Why aren’t you answering your texts? Baby? You just posted that no way you walked away from your phone. Are you okay?

You snorted then went into IG to look at your post. It already was well into the hundred thousands of likes. The 4th comment, Lewis', had you pinching your lips.

"@y/nthaunicorn what?! This isn’t the kind of thing you post on social before telling me.

You giggled and continued reading the comments replying to him with congratulations and you’re going to be an amazing dad. The number of #mercedesbaby and #babygoatcoming hashtags only made you roll more.

The man was going to learn today that his last prank was too far. He'd canceled your appointment with your OBGYN and had one of your friends pretend to be you to make your appointment as a pre-pregnancy appointment with the intention to conceive.

Lo' and behold, when you’d gone to the appointment you were confused why your doctor was going over your estrogen and progesterone levels and checking the placement of your uterus. When she mentioned that you were in good health and should have no problems conceiving, you nearly passed out.

You tried to tell her you had no intentions of planning a pregnancy but she took it as you getting cold feet to which she then spent a lot of time trying to soothe your “fears”. When you went home with prenatal vitamins and a calendar on your best days for conception Lewis played along saying he was on board if you really wanted a baby.

He was so supportive about it that he freaked you out. He kept the ruse going so long that while you made love that night his whole dirty talk was about putting a baby in you. It was a slight turn on which shocked you because babies weren’t a topic you'd spent a lot of time talking about. For the most part, it took you off guard.

The following morning over breakfast was when he came clean. The way he cackled and ran around the house clearly pleased with himself was so over the top that you silently vowed revenge. You would make him rue the day.

Today was his retribution.

Your phone rang and Lewis' name appeared on your screen. You chortled and stared at the camera as it rang out. The man it feels good to be a gangster sound played in your head while your face evilly smirked. Seconds later, a message from him came in.

MSG Lewis: Why aren’t you answering your phone?

MSG Lewis: Are you okay?

MSG Lewis: Is this real? Are you being for real?

MSG Lewis: Did your IG get hacked?

MSG Lewis: Y/N!

Another call came in and again it was him. Zoe laughed loudly as she wiggled her legs in the air.

"He is losing his shit!”

MSG Lewis: Y/N. Jesus Christ. You're killing me. Pick up the phone baby.

You snorted. He was realizing assertiveness was not going to win. Now he was trying sugar.

MSG Lewis: Sweetheart. Are you pregnant? Is that why you've been sick lately?

MSG Lewis: Why you've been feeling so bloated?

MSG Lewis: Your boobs!😮 Oh shit. Why aren’t you answering?🥴

His texts came in one after the other each one more and more panicked. You just sat back and let him make his descent.

Placing another guac and salsa dipped chip into your mouth, you read the previews of his messages.

MSG Lewis: A baby? Our baby. Oh my god.😳

Your phone rang again, and again you let it ring out. A few minutes later, you got the notification of a voicemail. Once you hit play on the message, his voice came in and you and your bestie listened in.

"Y/N, I don’t know why you’re not picking up and it’s freaking me out a little. You know how I feel when I can't reach you, especially after what happened that last time.”

At that, you perked up because he’d nearly had a panic attack the last time he couldn’t reach you and it was because some paps were chasing you in your car nearly making you crash. He’d had to show up at the police station dropping everything. The pause in the message made you get ready to swipe to your phone app, but then he continued.

“I thought about it for a while and figured maybe you’re afraid to talk to me. Maybe you’re scared that I’m going to be angry or disappointed by the news. Maybe you think I’ll tell you to terminate or that I'm not ready. I thought about it and I wish I was there with you right now instead of halfway across the fucking world. Fuck.”

His sighed in a hefty huff.

“I wish I could hug you and hold your hand and tell you while looking into your eyes that it's going to be okay and that I’m not angry. I’m not disappointed.”

Your brows rose. He wasn’t, you questioned.

“I’m surprised, yes. So fucking surprised. I didn’t think this would happen and never really thought about the possibility of it happening which is so stupid because we don't use condoms. Like at all. I’m shooting your club up every day, multiple times a day. Why wouldn’t it be possible?”

You pinched your lips as your friend gave you a look that said she wasn’t surprised how y’all got down. You rubbed your brow to avoid her side-eye. It wasn’t that you were ashamed. You weren’t it was just embarrassing. You took a few sips from your cherry limeade and continued listening.

“Uggh, I’m rambling. I'm not mad and I wish you’d pick up the phone and let me tell you that plus how much I love you and want this."

A spray of cherry limeade shot from your mouth through the air, "What!!”

You bolted up in shock with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"A baby. Our baby. A piece of you and me. We didn't plan this, but we've been given this soul for a reason, and I am going to welcome and love them with everything I have. I’m going to be there 100 percent. You’re not in this alone, you have me. Call me, please. I love you so much."

Your eyes were wide. Had you heard him right? Was he actually happy about this? Your head snapped to your friend who was also wide-eyed.

“Well shit, plot twist!”

“Was he--.”

“Happy? Yep.”

“Did he say--.”

“He wanted this? Oh yeah.”

You went over the message in your head again.

“Was he--.”

“The sweetest and cutest about it? Yes. Oh my god, Y/N.”

You played the message again and listened to it in its entirety. You didn’t stop at once, or twice. You listened over 5 times but each time you were still flabbergasted by his words.

“Oh my god.”

“Well look on the bright side—he’d never be one of those asshole deadbeat celebs trying to make their girl get rid of a baby they helped create.”

“Why does he want this? Why isn’t he mad? We haven’t really talked about kids. This is so out the blue?”

“You want him to be mad?”

You paused and thought about it. Any other answer besides no was ridiculous. This was an ideal reaction if the situation was real. This was how every man should react to an unplanned pregnancy. He was being major goals right now and it made your heart swell with love and pride.

Your notifications went off some more and you checked them to find some of his fellow F1 drivers commenting about the news. They all were sweet and thoughtful, which made you think again about this prank.

“Shit. How do I tell him it was a prank now?”

Zoe laughed loudly. “I suggest starting with apology head then let him shoot your club up for real and voila baby.”

You smacked her across her stomach while kissing your teeth.

“Be for real.”

“I’m being as for real as your man is.”

A text notification came in then.

MSG Lewis: The jet will be landing in a few hours. It’s not planned but come see me this weekend. I really want to be close to you right now.

“Oh my god.”

Your friend laughed again as she teased you about your prank gone completely wrong.

~~~~~~~~

Just as he’d said, Lewis’ jet arrived 4 hours after he’d texted. The call from the pilot came at nearly midnight. You were packed and ready for the weekend with a possible week’s extension, but you were also still debating how you were going to make this right. He thought he was going to be a father and that prospect had him in his feelings. You felt horrible.

MSG Lewis: Did the pilot call?

You’d replied to his text after the message about spending the weekend with him because you knew staying quiet longer would make him more anxious. You were messed up, but you weren’t cruel.

MSG: Yeah. Guess I’ll see you in a few.

MSG Lewis: Don’t be scared. Everything’s going to be all right. I love you.

“Uugh. I’m an asshole,” you said, hanging your head.

The chauffeured car took 40 minutes to get to the airfield and the whole time you tried to come up with a way to easily let him down. If he had been angry you would have been obnoxious with it and laughed in his face, but seeing how sweet he was about it there was no way you could now.

Of course, the flight to Barcelona didn’t take long. The pilot even had the audacity to cut what was a 2-hour and 20-minute flight to just 2 hours flat. The nerve! The whole flight your nerves toiled which made your stomach uneasy. Nothing helped, not ginger ale, 7-up, Sprite, cranberry juice, tea, nor sports drinks. You suspected it was your anxiety manifesting in an upset stomach, so you didn’t stress the flight attendant with helping ease it.

Now it was 3am Barcelona time and you were steadily approaching the penthouse that Lewis was staying in. The closer you got the more nervous you got. When the car began to slow down in front of a cute building with adorable Verona-style balconies you groaned. It was time to face the music. The driver unloaded your bags and helped you inside to the door. As he was about to ring the bell you stopped him and told him you could take it from there.

Once you were alone in front of the door you took a few breaths and tried to get control over your nerves. Before you could ring the bell though, the door opened and there stood Lewis in a white sleeveless T-shirt and grey sweat shorts. Instantly you pouted and waited for him to speak first.

“C’mere,” Lewis said holding open his arms for you.

Without hesitation you rushed into his arms and allowed him to hold you.

“It’s okay,” he whispered as he stepped back into the penthouse taking you with him.

He lifted you off your feet and carried you inside. When he placed you down on a soft couch, he kissed your forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lewis disappeared for a few minutes. You assumed he was bringing in your luggage and rolling them into the bedroom. By the time he came back, you still had no idea what to say. He kneeled in front of you and lifted your chin.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

Your stomach churned then and you clasped your hands over your mouth while gagging.

“What’s wrong?”

You pointed to your throat, and he got it instantly. Lewis rushed through the halls showing you to the bathroom. Dropping to your knees, you allowed every drink you’d consumed on the flight to empty into the toilet. As you retched Lewis dipped beside you and rubbed your back like the perfectly sweet man he was. It only intensified your “you ain’t shit” feeling and you began crying.

“What? What’s wrong? It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No baby. Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s a baby, a blessing. Not the end of the world.”

You cried more and repeated your sorries. It was all you could get out. You remained on your knees in front of the toilet vomiting with Lewis rubbing your back and whispering soft words to you promising everything would be just fine. After, he got you in the tub and washed your body for you as you relaxed against him. He rubbed every knot out of your muscle, massaged every tension from your scalp, while making your skin gleam and glow.

When he got you in bed he topped it all off with a body massage from head to toe. You didn’t deserve it at all. When you laid on his chest, you tried to find the words.

“Lewis,” you began with a meek voice.

“Princess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I don’t know when along the line of our relationship you got the impression that I was some asshole who would be angry about something like that. I’m not,” he assured.

“You’re not an asshole. I’m the asshole.”

Lewis rolled over to peer into your eyes. “What?”

“How? Why?”

“I—I lied,” you quietly finished.

“Lied? About what?”

“The baby.”

You watched worry and fear wash over his face.

“What do you mean?”

“It—it was supposed to be a prank.”

Lewis rushed a breath out then dropped on his back to stare at the ceiling.

“It was supposed to be payback for your last prank on me with my OB appointment. I didn’t expect you to take it like this. I thought you’d be mad and freak out a little. I didn’t think that you—want it.”

He was so quiet and so unreadable right now you worried he was really hurt.

“I’m sorry baby. I feel like shit now. I didn’t mean to--.”

“So you’re not pregnant.”

“No,” you quietly replied.

Lewis scoffed, covered his face. “Wow.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Wow. Wow. Wow. I was really—I truly—jeez.”

He sat up and stared out into the darkness. You didn’t know how to make this better. You could sense his disappointment, sense his hurt that it wasn’t real. You were speechless and so confused about how long he’d been secretly wanting a baby. Right now didn’t feel like the right time to inquire though.

“Okay. You got me.”

You leaned forward to study his face. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. You got me. I really thought you were pregnant, especially with the way you’ve been acting the last few weeks. Ha! Good one.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Angry that you had the balls to prank me like this or angry that you’re not pregnant?”

You thought about it for a quick minute. “Both.”

Even he looked to think about it. “I’m not angry about the prank. I'd been wondering what you’d do to get me back, but I let my guard down. It was a good prank, ballsy, especially putting it on social but it was good,” he explained.

“And the other?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m angry you’re not pregnant. I’m—disappointed. I should be relieved because as you know our lives right now are chaotic. You with your business, me, and F1. Adding a baby in now would be nuts.”

You heard a but. “But?”

Lewis chewed the inside of his mouth for a few moments then he laid back down. “But the longer I sat with it and thought about what it meant the more I wanted it. I wasn’t mad, or freaking out for the most part, I was relieved it was with you.”

Your heart melted. You rolled on top of him and splayed yourself across his chest. “I’m sorry baby.”

Lewis wrapped his arms around you and traced his fingertips up and down your bare spine.

“How do you feel about a baby—our baby?”

You thought about it for a few moments dividing points into pro and con columns in your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. Our lives are hectic right now. You just signed a contract extension with Mercedes which means more racing, more time away from home. My lingerie line has been blowing up and I just opened a second store location. Things will only get more and more hectic.”

“I want us both to be present,” Lewis added.

“Yeah.”

A contemplative silence filled the room. Both of you were lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you want to have a baby with me, though?”

Your head popped up meeting Lewis’ eyes.

“Only you. No one else.”

A smile slowly spread across Lewis’ lips.

“Only you, no one else,” he repeated.

You kissed him gently and that kiss intensified within seconds. Soon your hands were pushing down Lewis’ shorts with urgency needing to get closer. You were already bare for him, but he needed to catch up. Once his shorts were rumpled at the foot of the bed, you straddled his hips and lowered yourself on his ready and waiting member.

Both of you sighed out in unison relishing the pleasure you only found in each other. As you slowly rocked back and forth on him, Lewis’ hands gripped your hips helping you move. Bit by bit he picked up the pace taking full control of the way your body moved. Back and forth, round and round, up and down.

When you began bouncing on him, Lewis abandoned your hips to cup your breasts. His moans filled the room as his eyes drank in every inch of you. In no time, you felt your orgasm creep up on you. Lewis flipped you onto your back, placed your ankle on his shoulder then took over. That was the final push to send you over the edge.

“Fuuuuck!”

“Mmm!”

Lewis brought your other leg to join the first then held you off the bed as he flicked his hips forward with such force the bed jerked giving the craftmanship a run for its money.

“Yes, baby. Right there!”

“Yeah right there? Like this?”

He slowed his moves, then pulled out fully only to slam his hips into you filling you to capacity. Every time he did it you yelped unable to control yourself.

“Like that?”

“Yes!”

“Mmm, I’m going to fill this sweet little pussy up. You’re gonna be so fucking full of me you can’t walk.”

Lewis ground his hips against you making you feel how impossibly deep he was. Instinctively, you pressed against his abs hoping to keep him at bay, however, he wasn’t having it. Lewis dropped your legs, hovered over you then began rocking into you in the most artful way. His body rocked, ebbed, flowed, rolled, and torpedoed you into yet another release.

As you clenched around him, Lewis groaned.

“So fucking tight. You loving this dick baby?”

“Yes, I love your dick baby. Fuck me.”

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, you’re so beautiful when you take this dick.”

You cupped your breasts, holding them out like ripe fruit for him. Lewis dipped down and bit down on your nipple making you wetter than ever.

“Fuuuuuck!”

Lewis lowered his lips to your ear as he fucked into you. “You’d look so fucking pretty with my baby in you. Makes me want to fill this tight cunt up.”

“Fill me, baby. I want your hot cum, I want it now," you whined.

Lewis locked eyes with you just as his hand wrapped around your throat. Rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you let him use you as he wanted.

“You want me to cum deep in this pretty pussy?”

Yes!”

“You’re gonna keep every fucking drop, right where I put it.”

“Fuck Lewis, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum with me princess.”

His thrusts sped until you were seeing stars and rainbows. It was an impossibility, but it was what you saw. Your moans matched, desires synced and desperation for one another took over. Lewis flicked his hips forward then came so hard and so deep his grunts were all you heard as he released stream after stream. Your body broke out into shivers at the thought of him intentionally trying to knock you up.

Lewis pulled back and dropped his attention between your legs. Slowly he pulled out only to shove himself back inside. It was like he was trying to keep every single drop of himself inside of your body.

“Fuck baby, this pussy looks so good with me dripping out.”

“How good?”

“So good I’m gonna fill you again.”

With that, Lewis crashed his lips to yours and in seconds round two had begun. You felt sorry for him tomorrow because he would be useless with how little sleep he would have gotten. He didn’t seem bothered in the least though. His only thought was fucking you into oblivion until he’d planted a seed.

The next afternoon, you woke alone with a note on Lewis’ pillow.

“See you on the paddock. Love you.”

You sat up and a sea of nausea filled you. Quickly you ran to the bathroom and heaved the contents of your stomach into the toilet. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand what was going on. You’d confessed about the prank you weren’t anxious anymore. Why were you sick? Could it have been jet lag? You’d never experienced nausea with jet lag before and the flight was only 2 hours long. As you went through the possibilities, you continued to heave.

After 20 or so minutes, you got back into bed with your phone and began googling reasons for nausea when first waking. You’d barely put your head on the pillow before the first result popped up. The result had you bolting upward with wide eyes.

“No fucking way.”

You kept scrolling but your mind still lingered on the first result. You thought back over the last weeks to a month trying to debunk it. You’d only made it a few seconds before your eyes widened even more. You swiped open your love tracker and scanned through the last few weeks. There were so many red colored in boxes, that signified every day you’d been intimate, throughout the month you began to panic.

“No way. Right?”

You sprang out of bed and hurried to get dressed. As you did, you tried to find the closest drugstore. In record time you found yourself in the back of the chauffeured car that Lewis had left behind for you to get to the racing grounds. As the car zipped through traffic, your brain was going almost as fast as a Mercedes race car. You were afraid to put your hat in any basket because you just didn't know what was going on.

With your dark sunglasses on and one of Lewis’ bucket hats tipped low, you dipped inside the store and did a once around the store to be sure no one had recognized or noticed you. You then walked in the general vicinity of where those items rested. If you were a NASCAR driver and this was a pit stop, you would have been the fastest back on the track. In less than 5 minutes you were back in the car and headed back to the penthouse.

Soon you sat in the bathroom at the edge of the huge porcelain tub staring at the 14 boxes of pregnancy tests. You couldn't decide on which one, so you bought 2 of every brand, 5 from brands you knew and the other 2 from unheard-of probably local brands. With a large juiced vegetable and fruit blend in hand, you attempted to finish it off. Since you'd returned another bout of nausea hit you that took nearly 30 minutes to pass.

Right now you were stalling. You had to pee so you could easily take them but it was the thought that crippled you. Right now the unknown felt like a comforting place to be. In 10 or so minutes you would either be disappointed or happy. You were in Lewis' shoes in reverse.

You sighed, guzzled the rest of the juice, then slammed it on the sink counter as a wave of determination filled you.

“Okay, Okay, okay. I got this. I got this. I got this!”

You grabbed the disposable mouthwash cup then tackled it head-on. Once you’d finished and ripped open every bod, you dripped the tips into the cup and laid them all out on the counter. You’d told yourself to sit right back on the edge of the tub, but your legs would not obey. So, you paced the room. Back and forth, back, and forth, round and round, corner to corner, wall to wall.

By the time your phone went off indicating time was up, you were perched on the porcelain tub staring out to nothing thinking of everything. You remained there for a minute more trying to control your breathing then you stood and approached the mess of tests on the counter in organized chaos.

Hyping yourself, you took the first up and stared at the window. Your breath hitched and you moved to take another test up. Glancing at it, you were met with the same answer. You sifted through the tests, taking them up, looking at the results, and moving to the next. You checked once, then twice and every single one of them mirrored back one collective and cohesive—positive.

“Plot fucking twist,” you said.

Your phone sounded making you open your messages to see Lewis’ name.

MSG Lewis: Feeling better?

You scoffed. His timing was impeccable. You took another calming breath before you replied.

MSG: Not much but I’m okay.

MSG Lewis: Still throwing up?

MSG: Here and there.

MSG Lewis: You can stay in bed today. I’ll see you after.

MSG: Not a chance. I’ll be there. Wouldn’t want to miss your P1.

MSG Lewis: Don’t push yourself.

MSG: Says the man who only got like an hour of sleep because he kept pushing for round after round.

MSG Lewis: Wasn’t much pushing needed. You know I can go for days.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was always cocky; it didn’t matter about what. You stepped back and took a picture of all the tests making sure a few showed the results then you began getting yourself ready.

~~~~~~~

By the time you got to the racing grounds, it was packed. With two of Lewis’ guards flanking your left and right, you walked through saying hello to the drivers, waving at faces you knew, and taking some footage for your socials. You even had some approach you to congratulate you on the pregnancy. It tripped you up for a second because you’d just found out but then you remembered your prank that had gone wrong and was not right back on track. Every time someone came up and said it you couldn’t help but giggle. It was all so ironic.

Once you made it to Mercedes, the crew saw you first. They began clapping and as you approached. When you were close enough many of them patted you on the back as they expressed their happiness over the news.

“Our first Mercedes driver baby. Congratulations.”

“Uh, thank—you.”

You smiled and tipped your head at the others who were smiling from ear to ear. Toto approached with a grin.

“Such great news, Y/N. You and Lewis are going to be amazing parents. You can count on Suzie and me up for babysitting.”

You nervouisly giggled. “I think we’ll hold you to that.”

“Eh-em.”

To the left Lewis approached with his brow crooked.

“There he is, the soon to be dad.”

He looked evidently uncomfortable as he stood beside you.

“About that," Lewis began.

“He’s going to be such an amazing dad,” you said while staring at him.

The two of you stood there staring at one another. You in complete love and adoration of him, and he in utter confusion. Gradually everyone took the hint and went back to what they were doing before you got there.

“What’re—what’re you doing? Shouldn’t you be telling them it was all a prank?”

“Maybe that’s how it started but—we’re past that now.”

“What do you mean?”

You laced your fingers with his then smiled.

“I—I’m pregnant.”

Lewis looked even more confused.

“What? Is this about last night? I’m sure it’s too soon to be--."

You snorted as you rolled your eyes. “Seriously?”

“What? You said it wasn’t real.”

“It wasn’t, not then. Or maybe it was but I didn’t know. You didn’t put a baby in me last night. There was already one in me. I got sick again this morning and that made me look back into some things on my calendars which had me taking 14 pregnancy tests and they are all positive.”

Lewis’s eyes widened.

“What?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m pregnant.”

“For real, for real?”

“So for real for real.”

Lewis looked down to your stomach area, then to your face. He smiled before he lifted you into the air. You laughed as he spun you around. Your combined laughter brought the attention of nearly everyone around you.

“Oh my god. We’re having a baby?”

He put you down then peered into your eyes. “Yep.”

He snorted then laughed heartily. “What a fucking plot twist.”

“Right! oh my god.”

The two of you cackled together before he kissed you, not caring who was watching. When his hand cupped your backside you squealed.

“Behave.”

“Not a chance. I can’t believe I put a baby in you.”

“Me neither.”

“Are you happy?”

You smiled and nodded. “Very.”

The way he smiled back at you made your heart swell. You were sure you looked like fools in love giggling with each other like idiots but neither of you cared. Lewis cupped your cheek and then softly caressed your skin.

“You and me.”

You took his other hand and put it on your stomach.

“Plus baby makes three. And with Roscoe--.”

“Makes a home,” Lewis finished.

A stray tear rolled down your cheek, but Lewis’ thumb flicked it away then kissed the spot it once laid.

The news must have been what he needed because a few hours later he stood on that podium claiming that P1. You beamed at him while you tenderly held your nonexistent bump, feeling closer to him than ever before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (8/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 7.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: I hope you enjoy, I will add all the extra links later. Please please please let me know your thoughts you have no idea how much it helps me. Enjoy!

Prev | next

m.list | series m.list | wattpad

10 years ago.

You have circled around Dionysus Lake at least three times, in a failed attempt to calm your nerves. In all honesty you aren’t sure why you’re so nervous, it was a simple tutoring session with your friend's brother. Yet, the hammering in your heart and the pressure around your neck was impossible to ignore.

You know this has nothing to do with you finding him attractive. You can find someone attractive but not be attracted to them. Hence Jungkook. You know it has nothing to do with the fact that his meeting place of choice was the one cafe that was slightly out of the budget you set aside for iced coffees on the weekday.

What you do know is that it has everything to do with the fact that this is something new. A little hiccup in your perfectly curated daily routine. From now on every Tuesday and Thursday you will be meeting up with Kim Namjoon at seven o’clock at Serendipity Cafe. Who by some miracle will hopefully have you understanding the PEMDAS rules that you’re hundred percent sure we’re taught wrong to you. No more will be your days in which you stay at HYBE U’s seven floor library, cranking down on research or polishing essays after math class. No more will be your days that you decide that maybe it was time for some me time, and enjoy a nice long relaxing bath with different bath salts, bath bombs, and candles in an attempt to relax your racing thoughts and aching muscles.

No, now you have to squeeze in a half an hour walk after your algebra class to give yourself a breather. So, you don’t have to face your friend's brother all frazzled and annoyed that you have successfully sat through a math class without understanding a thing. Really, your nerves are really due to the fact that you don’t want to seem incompetent; but is it your fault that you’ve had incompetent math teachers or lack of math teachers throughout your academic year? It’s not your fault they couldn’t explain complex terms in a simple form. Or that they took advantage of the system to get close to younger children. You were cheated out of a decent understanding of math because the academic system simply worked against you.

It’s a thought you have been turning over and over in your head since you woke up this morning. You’ve been trying out every other excuse in the book.

“I’m sorry they had us do flawed computer programs in middle school instead of actually teaching us something.”

“You see I couldn’t really do my math homework growing up because I had ballet class at four until eight.”

“I’m actually really smart I just don’t understand how the fuck I have to apply an exponent when there’s a parenthesis involved.”

All of these excuses were dumb. A mask for the actual truth. Math was uninteresting, impalpable. It stayed constant and lacked excitement because you couldn’t see the puzzles laid out before you. That, and sometimes you sneakily read a book in the back of the class or whispered about the next big boy band with your equally as boy crazed friends Shalimar and Ruth.

Still, after your third wrap around Dionysus lake, you’ve decided that if questioned you’d just come clean.

“I’m stupid and I absolutely have no idea why we have to have letters and numbers mingle with each other.”

Hopefully he'll appreciate your honesty and grow a soft spot for you. At least that’s what you hope for. And you keep hoping for as you steadily approach the large wooden doors of Serendipity. There’s still about ten minutes until seven, but you figured you’d get there a bit early to grab a good seat. One in a section that’s quiet but not too quiet because the last thing you want while you sip on your peppermint tea is to be consumed by your overwhelming thoughts while you wait for your tutor.

You approach the counter, gripping the leather strap of your purse, going over your order in case you stumble upon your words due to pressure.

“Welcome to Serendipity whe—oh hey you’re Kookie’s girl.” The man behind the counter says in awe. While you cringe at the fact that you’re being referred to as Jungkook’s girl. You remember the doe eyed man referring to the man now wearing a button down with what seems to be condoms printed all over it as Hobi. Though his nametag states that his name is Hoseok. You try not to dwell on it for too long because he’s looking at you curiously. Probably wondering why you haven’t greeted him back or placed your order.

You shake your head, circling your moon shaped bag back to the front of your body, attempting to hide your discomfort. “Oh, hi, um, Jungkook’s just a friend.” You swallow, while he smiles in acknowledgement.

“I see, things are complicated. I get that.” He brushes you off before turning to the iPad in front of him. Before you can counteract with a ‘no it’s actually very simple, we share classes and he’s unfortunately picked me to annoy.’ He speaks up and gets right to the point. “What can I get you cutie?” He finishes, looking at you through his bangs.

The heat in your body erupts. No guy has ever been this forward with you but you’re positive this is just part of his customer service training. If he ever had one. Either way he’s talking you up and making you feel seen, which you assume is a specialty of his and probably why the cafe is crowded with many young adults.

With a grin you say. “Just a hot mint chocolate latte.” You nod in assurance before opening up your purse and taking out your wallet. When you fish your card out and go to swipe it across the reader a hand stops you. Startled, you look up to find Hobi or Hoseok smiling wide at you.

“No need, it’s already paid for.” He takes his hand away and gives you a white buzzer instead.

You furrow your brows in confusion. How has your drink already been paid for when you’ve just entered? You aren’t complaining, you did just save some money, but that small amount of happiness doesn’t mean that you aren’t confused.

The cashier seems to read your confusion and he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Namjoon paid for you earlier when he ordered his drink.”

“What?” You glance down at your phone to see the time. Did you get it wrong? The two of you agreed on seven, and you even confirmed it this morning through a quick text just to be sure. So, why does the analog clock on your phone read 6:55, and Namjoon has possibly already been waiting for you.

You curse under your breath and quickly put your wallet in your purse before turning around to look at the almost empty cafe. There’s only a couple of people occupying the circular tables. All of them fully immersed in their books or laptop screens. Namjoon is nowhere in sight. You look back at Hoseok—you’ve decided to refer to him as such since it’s what’s on his nametag—and he laughs at your confusion.

He lifts up a finger signaling up, “he’s on the second floor, got here about an hour ago.”

His statement doesn’t do anything but worsen the panic already coursing through your veins. Maybe you did misinterpret the time, still it wouldn’t make sense because wouldn’t he have texted you by now asking where you were?

“Um thank you…”

“Call me Hobi.” He waves a hand in front of your face. “Any friend or special friend of the boys gets the privilege to call me Hobi. Plus Hoseok—” He points to his nametag with a boney finger. “Sounds too serious.” He shrugs.

You nod your head. “Thank you Hobi.” You rush out the acknowledgement and turn around and speed walk to the industrial style spiral staircase.

It’s a dizzying journey up, but once you make it to the final step you spot the man that has your nerves at an all time high. He’s sitting in the far corner next to a floor to ceiling window. His back is hunched as he types away on his laptop. Today he’s ditched the beanie and you can see his dark brown hair. A few strands of his bangs sneak their way behind the thick rims of his black glasses. He’s wearing a simple gray long sleeve, with black sweatpants. He looks relaxed, the opposite of what you’re feeling because the thing you hate most in the world is keeping people waiting.

With quick steps you approach the table, halting when you get to the front of a chair. “I’m sorry, I thought we agreed on seven.” You rush out instead of a proper greeting. In a quick motion he lifts his head and takes off the earbuds inside his ears, and you feel like more of an idiot than before because of course he would be wearing noise canceling earbuds.

“Hey, you’re here. Did you order something? I told Hobi that I would just pay for what you wanted.” He grins and stands up, extending his hand for you in a handshake.

You put your hand in his and feel a shiver run down your spine when his cold one meets your clammy one. “Am I late?” You tilt your head to the side.

Namjoon shakes his head, and lets go of your hand before sitting down again. “No, you’re right on time. I just got here a bit early to get a head start on an essay due by the end of the week.” He reassures you, and finally you can let out the breath you had been holding in.

You feel calmer now. Relieved. You set down your stuff on an empty chair and take the seat directly in front of him. You place your white buzzer in front of you, tracing the circular ridges. Now, that you’re not in such a panicked state you can finally show your gratitude to his selfless actions. “Thank you for the drink, you didn’t have to pay for it.”

The busy man smiles and waves his hand in front of his face to brush you off. “It’s no big deal, Hobi gives me discounts anyway.”

“So, I’ve heard.” You whisper recalling the first night you met him a week ago. Since then, Jungkook snuck his brother’s phone number to you the next day at the library. He didn’t say anything, he just passed by you with a green drink from the only smoothie place on campus and a sticky note saying:

Text Namjoon, he’s forgetful. -JK

It took the whole day to muster up the courage but finally you sent a simple text regarding your name and the fact that his younger brother had been the one to sneak you his number. In case, he assumed you had gone through multiple deep dives on the internet to retrieve it. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t question it and just replied with a simple greeting. Then the two of you got into a brief conversation that lasted about two days because you’re also forgetful and forgot to reply to his messages. Basically coordinating a plan further than the one you had discussed the first time you met.

It was strictly business. Yet, a part of you felt a little happy that you were meeting and talking to somebody new.

Just as you’re about to take out your small notebook and pen from your purse your buzzer comes to life, filling the spaces of silence in the air surrounding the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes tear away from his computer screen, and you’re about to stand up when he beats you to it. He quickly grabs a hold of the noisy device saying, “Don’t worry I got it,” and he disappears down the stairs.

You’re now sitting by yourself, wallowing in your over consuming thoughts. Most of them involve the story Jungkook told you about his very eventful weekend while the two of you were walking to your math lecture earlier today. Truly, it was so odd knowing that he had run into Taehyung at a club in the rich part of town. The two of them stayed together the entire night and even brought home two girls to Taehyung’s apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t share further than that, but he did share that he was in love. In which you rolled your eyes so hard it gave you vertigo.

In the few months that you have known the man. He has claimed that he has been in love with every single girl he’s slept with. Which surprisingly, given his flirty nature was not a lot. What was surprising to you was Taehyung being at the club. It’s not out of character for him, but Saturday nights were always spent at Jimin’s one bedroom apartment catching up on life, and binge watching One Piece. When his text message came through on Saturday evening saying that he wasn’t feeling very well and skipping out. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad because you hadn’t seen him in a while.

Taehyung was always out and about, chasing every new adventure he could grasp. He called it inspiration for his art, but you always knew there was another underlying reason. One he never cared to explain because in all honesty it only made sense to him. He was a tough book to get through. Sometimes it keeps you questioning why you even have a soft spot for it. Though, you suppose it is the backstory the two of you share. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt knowing he had chosen to not ditch you but Jimin as well.

The night wasn’t a bust and you managed to finally make a significant breakthrough on the anime. Twenty episodes in one night was something that needed to be awarded. It did feel a bit awkward when it was just the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible ceiling slowly crushing you, because on Saturday for the first time ever the two of you found yourself stuck. Nothing to talk about. No updates on life, only the sound of the anime doing its best to fill the void of Taehyung not being there that the both of you unspokenly felt.

It made you question a lot of things. Like was it maybe time to finally part ways? A chilling thought that sent shivers down your spine and one you pushed so far into the back of your head. One you really don’t want to think about now, especially when you’re about to succumb yourself to a full extra hour of torture. Otherwise known as: College Algebra.

“Hobi says that if you take a picture of his latte art to tag him if you post it.” Namjoon voices, placing a small tray in front of your open notebook. A white mug with a beautiful Jack O'Lantern drawn in white foam decorates the top of your warm decaffeinated latte. It’s impressive, surely puts all those swans and hearts to shame.

“He’s a big fan of Halloween, and he always says that fall time means it's Halloween everyday.” Namjoon finishes with a chuckle, as he takes the seat in front of you again.

You laugh a little, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your jean jacket. “I can get behind that.” You say as you click on the camera app and snap a couple of pictures.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon is watching as you rearrange the contents on the table. To get the right aesthetic for your perfect picture. He can’t lie, it's a little endearing, seeing somebody so excited over latte art he has grown accustomed to seeing. It’s something he will definitely spill onto Hoseok before he leaves. His friend was crazy talented in many areas and he hates that instead of sharing all his passions out with the world. He’s stuck running Serendipity because his grandfather wanted the neighborhood's hub to stay in the Jung family. When he should be out in the world sharing his clothing designs with anyone who’s willing to listen.

Namjoon’s thoughts are interrupted by your extended hand, holding out your phone for him. “What’s his instagram?” You grin, and his eyes make their way to the small phone screen. A beautifully taken picture, showing off the spooky pumpkin with a caption reading,

Halloween should be all year round @--

Namjoon lets out an ‘ah’ before taking your phone and quickly typing out his friend's handle. He reads the caption again, double checking to see if he made any mistakes, Halloween should be all year round @uramyhope.

He nods in approval and hands you back your phone. Deep down he feels a surge of something foreign. He can’t necessarily put his finger on it but regarding Hoseok’s statement when he first met you last week, when he asked both his brother and him for your number. He feels a little strange, knowing that he’s basically given the two of you a way to start communicating outside of him and Jungkook. Knowing the aspiring designer, he won’t miss a beat, and that makes him feel a bit odd.

He shrugs it off though, pushes away the churning in his stomach, concluding that it was because he chose to consume caffeine so late in the evening. He looks back at his computer screen, while you type away on your phone. He continues to ignore it, saves the document on his computer two times before closing the lid. He pushes it aside, and clears his throat, catching your attention.

Quickly you lock your phone and stuff it into the pocket of your jacket. You look over at Namjoon, his hands clasped in front of him and a scowl prominent on his face. It resembled the same one he transformed into the first night you met him. When he coldly stated he was done with blind dating thanks to his mother and step brother. Though, this time it does feel less intense, probably due to the fact that he knows you’re just here to be his tutee and not his future wife.

Still, it lets you know that time was ticking and it was finally time to get down to business.

“How have you gone on this long without understanding the basic principles of algebra?”

Namjoon is serious. He means business and you’re about to pull out the hair from your scalp.

“Maybe because I never had a permanent math teacher, they’d all leave in the middle of the year.” You pout, crossing your arms in front of you and slumping down in your seat.

He lets out a sigh before sliding your notebook to his side of the table. The metal spiral scratching against the wooden surface, letting out an unpleasant noise making you cringe.

“That’s a good excuse.” He says, grabbing his red pen and making all sorts of marks along the paper. You don’t need to know what steps you got wrong while solving the math problem. You know exactly where you went wrong. It was the second you signed up for the class even if you didn’t have much of a choice.

You groan, throwing your head back. “It’s not an excuse. My eighth grade teacher left in the middle of the year because she got pregnant, my ninth grade teacher unfortunately was diagnosed with cancer. Then my tenth grade teacher was accused of being a pedophile so he was fired an—“

“Okay,” Namjoon cuts you off, setting down his pen on top of your notebook. “I understand, your school was just shitty at keeping teachers around.” He grins, placing the notebook in front of you again. “But did you ever do your math homework?” He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

Unfortunately you’ve been caught. “No,” you whisper, dragging your fingernail down the spiral.

The sound he lets out tells you enough. He’s proven his point with the sarcastic hum that escapes his mouth. “In my defense I had dance practice everyday after school from two to four and the ballet from five to eight.” You add but it does little to prove your innocence. Instead, it makes you look guiltier or maybe not you but your parents because who would choose an extracurricular activity over academics. Especially when they knew their daughter was absolute shit at math. They did try though, but even the math tutor they hired back in high school could not get through to you.

“I see,” he puts a pensive hand on his chin leaning back. The look he gives you makes you feel small. You can’t tell if he’s judging your upbringing or the you now who can’t seem to understand the simple PEMDAS rules.

“Your problem isn’t even that bad. It’s easy to fix. You know what each operation does. You just get confused with the order along the way.” He leans forward, picking up the pen and pointing to the problem you just finished doing. “You know to do parenthesis first, but then you forget that parenthesis don’t really go away. That’s your first mistake.”

It’s like a lightbulb has suddenly flicked on inside your head as you watch him solve the problem while thoroughly explaining each step. Writing out every single step even if it was unnecessary, but it helps.

“So the answer should be seventeen and not twenty-two.” He finishes, and the puzzle slowly starts to connect itself before your eyes. The steps are laid out perfectly and neatly. The parenthesis stay until the equation is factored to the lowest it can go. And you’re about to jump across the table to give the man before you the biggest hug. He’s the only one who's been able to point out what you’ve done wrong your whole life and then explain it easily.

You lift your head up, wide eyed and say “oh, that makes sense.”

Namjoon laughs, almost as if he’s relieved but also disbelieved. You start to feel bad because for the past hour he’s been trying to explain to you the basic principles in every way possible. And it was only until he explained it to you in baby terms that you finally understood. You’re about to apologize, but instead you’re left stunned by his next words.

“I’m giving you homework for the next time we see each other on Thursday.” He hums, flipping to the next page. Your eye twitches a little at the thought of math homework. If you never did it while you were in school and getting graded for it, why would you do it now?

“Homework?”

He hums, and begins to write down a bunch of different math problems. He can sense that you’re about to fill him with different complaints, so he speaks up. “Do you want to pass math class?

“Yes, but do you really need to give me homework?”

“How many hours were you in dance class growing up?”

“I don’t remember like five hours, but what does that have to do with you giving me math homework.”

“What were you doing for five hours?” He lifts his head, handing you your notebook. You take it looking down at the ten perfectly curated algebra problems.

You want to throw up.

“Practicing.”

“Exactly, and how are you going to pass math?”

You huff, seeing exactly where his question was heading. Proving a point or whatever. Jungkook did mention his brother was a bit of a smart ass. Now you’re unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end.

With a grunt you close your notebook. “Fine, I'll do the homework.”

Namjoon smirks, tapping his ear, leaning in further into the table. “No, I want to hear you say it please.”

You stuff your small spiral notebook into your purse, snatching your special pink mechanical pencil from his side of the table. You spent too much money on it to let—your stupid math tutor who is now giving you homework to make you suffer—steal it.

“I need to practice math.” You mumble, zipping up your bag, and putting it over your shoulder.

Namjoon laughs, letting his red pen fall against the wooden table with a clank. You roll your eyes before standing up. At least your suffering was amusing to someone.

You cross your arms in front you waiting for his laughter to die down. When it does he looks at you, watery eyes from joy and you feel a slight tug in the inside of your chest. You push it to the side, convince yourself that it’s just the irritation bubbling up inside of you.

“Are you done?”

He nods, shuffles around the table to put his stuff away. “How are you getting home?” He questions, standing up and hoisting his vintage messenger bag over his shoulder.

You shrug, “the bus.” You state, pulling up your phone to check the bus schedule. If you can catch the next bus that comes in ten minutes then you’ll still be able to get home with a couple of seconds left of daylight.

“I’ll go with you then.” He states firmly, standing up abruptly and walking past you. It leaves you no room to argue against him.

You’re quickly starting to realize that once he says something firmly enough to be believed as the truth. There is absolutely no room left for a final say.

And they call you stubborn…as if.

The bus arrived a minute late. A minute that felt longer than what it should’ve felt. The two of you were the only ones standing side by side under the dim light of the bus stop.

It’s one thing to be in the same room as your tutor while the only thing the two of you talk about is math. It’s another thing to have him offer to walk you home. There’s no conversation. There’s no way to start a conversation. The only thing you really know about him is that he’s still studying, he is Jungkook’s step brother and he’s a philosophy major. The only philosophers you knew off were the ones from Ancient Greece. All the readings for your Introduction to Modern Rhetorics course that you were assigned to do were somewhere buried in the back of your mind.

You don’t want to start up a conversation in which you know you won’t be able to keep up. You remember very little about the readings and somehow the things you do remember blend into one another. So you can’t differentiate between what one philosopher said and what the other said.

Instead, Namjoon and you walk in silence. At a safe distance but close enough to still feel the presence of the other. Then you stand in the bus stop. Neither of you sit on the cold metal bench because it’s still not cold enough for them to turn on the bench warmers. And when you see that the bus is a minute late, you start to feel the slightly awkward air around the two of you get thicker.

You’re about to bite the bullet, take the embarrassing moment for some sort of small talk when the bright blue bus turns the corner. You watch it approach the stop fast. At least that’s what it feels like and soon enough the driver opens the double doors to welcome the two of you.

Surprisingly it’s not full. There are a few people occupying the seats, but there’s enough room to not feel like you’re being squished upon one another. Namjoon lets you enter first. Once you click your transit card against the reader you scan the rows for an empty seat. And of course, there’s two left in the far back. You walk to it quickly. Pass the exhausted bystanders and take the seat against the window.

After all, you will be here for the next twenty five minutes. Though, it’s not only occurred to you that you don’t know where Namjoon lives, until he takes up the seat next to yours. You want to ask if he’s going out of his way or if his place is along this route. But you don’t want to pry too much. You’ve only just met him officially. You also don’t know what you would do with yourself if it does turn out that his place is out of the way. Probably, apologize profusely for being such an inconvenience.

To save yourself from the discomfort you sights upon the buildings outside the window. Your daydreaming only lasts a few seconds when you feel a light tap against your shoulder. In a quick motion you turn your head to face the man sitting next to you. You tilt your head in question and he opens his mouth to speak.

“What’s the deal with you and Jungkook?”

The question feels like you’ve been hit by whiplash. It’s not the first time you get asked about it. Your longtime friend Jina has brought it up a few times, but you always reply with the same exact answer. “I guess we’re friends.” You shrug.

Namjoon hums in acknowledgment, nodding his head. He looks ahead for a few minutes before looking back at you. “Are you sure?”

Now, this question takes you aback. Nobody’s ever questioned your honesty. At least until now.

You quirk a brow and nod. “Yes, we share a few classes and sometimes we study together. But it always feels like I’m there to study and he’s just there to talk because he never shuts up.” You rant.

“Ah,” he chuckles, moving his head in confirmation. “That sounds like him, when he was younger he never talked, but then he turned fifteen got a little confident because he found out a few people found him cute and he just never stopped talking then.” Namjoon reveals, making you smile. “He also talks in his sleep.” He adds, smiling when he hears you let out a giggle.

Suddenly, it doesn’t feel as awkward as before. It feels a bit simpler. And you find yourself leaning into his aura a little more.

“I think he likes you though.” He adds, making your eyes grow wide in surprise. Maybe you’re dumb or you just don’t understand flirting thanks to the two very unserious relationships you had between the transition of high school and college. But from what you do know is that Jungkook holds no romantic feelings or a liking towards you. That’s something you’re very confident in.

“I don’t think so.” You scoff. “He would be stupid if he did.” You wave him off, and look out the window. You catch his reflection in the glass. He’s looking down at you, smiling in amusement. It somehow makes your cheeks get a bit hot and you divert your gaze down to the metal border of the window.

“He sat me down on our couch last night and laid down some ground rules.” He speaks up, looking ahead again. He lifts his hand and starts, “I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight, I have to be nice to you, and Hobi is not allowed under any circumstances get your number, which somehow I failed at doing.” He shrugs and counts with his fingers as if that proves his statement.

You stare at his hand before looking up at him again, you’re at a loss for words. Your thoughts are all jumbled up. Somehow you know tonight you won’t be able to sleep. You will now be questioning every single interaction you’ve had with Jungkook in the past few months.

Clearing your throat you say, “that doesn’t mean he like…has feelings for me.”

He lifts his hands up in defense. Your tone is harsh and he finds it amusing. He continues, “don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just relaying information on something I’ve observed.”

You finally turn to look at him. Your eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl. “No offense but your observation is stupid.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting like a child. It makes Namjoon laugh loud enough to turn heads, causing you to look at him alarmed. It only makes him laugh harder and when you’re about to reprimand him, the automatic voice sounds in the speakers of the bus. It announces your stop and you scramble quickly to press the bright red button to stop the bus.

This shuts Namjoon up, he looks around, biting the inside of his cheek before nodding his head in confirmation. “This is your stop,” he voices just as the bus comes to a halt.

You nod, taking out your bus card from your purse and standing up. He copies your movements, makes his way to the card scanner and places his card against it. He doesn’t wait for you to exit he simply does and stands outside on the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. You scan your card and take the leap of faith from the bus stairs to the sidewalk. You land next to him, thanking your lucky stars for catching you and finally you voice out the question that’s been dying in the back of your throat.

“This is not your stop is it?”

“It’s not but, I promised Jungkook you would get home safely.” With that he turns on his heels and escapes the light of the stop, appearing again a few feet ahead underneath the street light. “Are you coming?”

“Do you do everything Jungkook says?” You grumble. The argument in which you state that you’re a big girl who is more than capable of walking home by herself escapes you. Only because when you’re finally standing in front of him. His head towering just a few inches above yours, it finally hits you. The jolt that springs in the pit of your stomach. The tug inside your heart that will have you up all night because it feels like a terrible case of heartburn. And the seed, his soft gaze plants inside of your mind.

It’s a mistake, a big one and you’re now regretting taking up Jungkook’s offer to have his brother tutor you. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen at all. The slow cascade down the wall you’ve built surrounding your emotions. You can feel it crumble already, ready to run down a dead end street, because that’s what it feels like. Whatever you’re feeling inside.

“I don’t.” The soft timbre of his voice brings out, you’re thankful it helps you find your way back down to the ground, but you’re not a fan of the way it paints goosebumps across your arms.

He continues, “I don’t want him to lecture me for not looking out after his friend.” He emphasizes the last part, combining it with a wink. You know what he is implying and you can’t help but feel a bit of the drink you had an hour ago threatening to make its way up your throat.

“You’re not going to give up are you?” You walk past him. It’s best to have him a few feet behind than right next to you. The space gives you time to regain yourself, yet it doesn’t last because in seconds he’s right next to you. His arm is so close. It almost brushes against yours. Thankfully it doesn’t but you can smell his cologne. It’s soft, and warm. Like fresh laundry on a sunday morning. It makes your insides burn and you know that from now on you will be looking for that scent everywhere so you can call it yours.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I’ve never seen him this protective over someone apart from his mom.” He whispers now, and the lower his voice gets the lower it sinks inside of you. “You must be special to him.” He concludes.

“I think I’m just the first girl who's never kissed his toes and finds him annoying.” You halt in front of a street light, and he stops with you. The little man signals red—do not go. You turn your head from side to side questioning your safety. If you run now, you will likely still be alive but most importantly away from the man next to you. Honestly, you’re a bit confused. When he was talking about algebra the only thing you could focus on was how to get from point a to point b while solving the problem.

Now that the moon is dim and the streets are emptying out. The only thing you can think about is how soft and ethereal he looks. Nothing like how when you first met him, but something straight out of a modernized fairy tale. It’s hitting you unexpectedly and you begin to wonder if it’s because your exhaustion is finally settling in, making you delusional.

“That could be true, but I think that you’re here to stay for a long time.” He chuckles. The little man switches to green and he takes the step.

“Why do you say that?” You walk fast to catch up to him. You realize that he is blindly following you and you to him. Sure, you’re almost home, but he’s leading the way as if he knows where he’s going. As if he’s done this before with you and has been doing this with you his entire life. It doesn’t do anything to calm your beating heart.

He stays quiet. He keeps on walking, stealing secret glances your way to see if he’s still at the same pace as you. It stays this way until you stop in front of a cute town house. The door is decorated with an autumn reef. The worlds ‘welcome fall,’ take up the entire circumference. There’s a red bell on the handle, to signal when someone is home since the doorbell has been broken ever since you could remember.

You’re home. But for some reason it had already felt like you were home.

“If it’s not Kook then it’s Hobi. Plus I need to make sure you pass math.” He voices.

You look at him, tilting your head in confusion. Until your mouth widens in a silent ‘oh’ recalling the question he had failed to answer a minute ago.

“I think your brain has been corrupted by reading into things while you do your research.”

He chuckles, “again don’t shoot the messenger, it’s not surprising though.” He shrugs, “My brother never shuts up about you, and Hobi hasn’t stopped asking for your contact information since you first walked into Serendipity a week ago.”

You roll your eyes, turning away from him and pressing your palm against the keypad of your house. It lights up, showing numbers and you quickly enter the code, wait for the little lock to signal it has been unlocked and you turn the knob.

Before you walk in you turn to face him again. “I won’t argue with you against the whole Hobi thing. But I know Jungkook doesn’t have feelings for me. If he did he wouldn’t tell me about all the dates he’s gone on and ask for advice whenever he has relationship or situationship problems. Plus he says he’s in love with someone he met this weekend.” You reason.

Namjoon takes his hands out of his pockets, raising his hands in defeat again. “Fine I’ll drop it, but I do think he finds you special. That’s all.” He states firmly and once again you’re reminded of that tone. He’s gotten the last word and you won’t bring up another one because if not then you’d be walking a tight circle around each other.

“Agree to disagree.” You smile, taking one step inside your house. “I’ll take your word for now. Thank you for walking me home. You didn’t have to even if Jungkook asked you to.”

He buries his hands into his pockets and grins. “I also wanted to.” He takes one step back. “Good night, I’ll see you on Thursday.” And with that he turns around, starts his way down the same path that led the two of you here.

Home.

You’re left astounded. In a rush to feel comfort once again, you hurry through the door, slamming it behind you, pressing your back against it. For a moment you’re scared your parents might find you in this state, wallowing in feelings you can’t begin to understand. Then you remember that they were at dinner with their friends, and you’re thankful that you still have some time to regain yourself.

Namjoon’s words cut deep. Not what he said about Jungkook. You know as well as you know your name that romantic feelings between the two of you are nonexistent. But you also know that he said he wanted to walk you home.

Chivalry might not be dead but the bar is low, because he wanted…he wanted…he wanted to wa—

Beep.

Your phone goes off signaling a message. With all the ditzyness a girl with a school girl crush can have. You fish out your phone with a haste, what if it’s him.

Though, that thought dies as quickly as it was conjured. It’s not him, but it’s a notification that in the same right births a little flame inside of you. Maybe not as bright as the one Namjoon left behind, but it has the potential to grow into something more.

uarmyhope wants to send you a message.

Your smile gets wide when you swipe across the notification. It opens up to your Instagram and it quickly directs you to your DMS.

You open it, and you feel a spark when you read the few choice words that were chosen. They’re simple but they’re enough. And they’re the start of a long night of getting to know someone else.

Your next latte is on me cutie.xx