#i WILL wake up tomorrow to a new and improved vibe

[this-doesnt-endd]

The vibe had been so off like hello its my last part of summer i shoulf be engaing im tomfoolery, going to the pool, seeing movies, having fun and im here in my house applying to like 20 scholarships a day then scrolling im bed for the rest of the day

[skyborn-reads]

🎆 Message From The Universe

“...for when you hear thunder, it's only the Universe clearing Its throat to drop more tea on you.”

Pictures source

Sky 1 — Pathways

Cards drawn: Eight of Swords, Four of Pentacles

There are mainly three groups who choose this pile. Some of you want to escape the current rhythms of life. Some of you want to stay. Some of you don't know whether you should stay or leave. You stand right where you are but your eyes are darting here and there. I hope this reading helps all of you in your quest, whichever way you wish to go or remain.

To people who want to break free from the past rhythms of life — no longer will you be bound to stagnancy. The worst has passed and you have bore witness to its trials and tribulations. Now the Universe is asking you if you dare to make that one choice to free yourself from the burden. Be aware, as the crossroad is nigh.

To the ones who want to stay — there's something you're holding onto. You won't want to leave because you still feel there's gold to be mined where you are, metaphorically speaking. You still see the benefits of staying where you are, and you're right, but it would take a struggle to mine the gold, and you won't always get what you want. The Universe trusts you to make the best decision for yourself. So whether to charge towards the next stop or lay low in wait, the choice is up to you, always up to you.

To people whose eyes are darting around looking lost — ask yourself what you want and what your priority is. You have many options and it seems like every path bears fruit, but there is one path that is meant for you, and you're the best person to decide which one it is. Good luck, because you might meet challenges on your path that will strengthen you and help you become stronger and wiser than you are now.

To all of you — the next months will be an eye-opening experience for you. You'll see the true face of many people, see your situation from different viewpoints. You'll understand the rhythm of things and even be able to predict how it would eventually lead. You're safe and guided. You'll land where you want to land, but first as already mentioned there will be tests, and fortunately luck will be at your side 🍀

Your journey will be easier if you know what to hold onto and what to let go. You seem to want to hold onto more than you can but some of those things no longer serve you. Do you see their true value? Do you know what's good for you and what will ultimately cause you more sorrow? Release them now. It will be painful, but it will be worth it in the long run. There is an end to everything. By releasing them you will see joy and freedom as never felt. I wish you guys a lot of love and a lot of happiness 💚🍀💚

Sky 2 — Gifts

Cards drawn: Ace of Wands (reversed), Page of Wands

You lose something, you gain something. You've recently let go of something, but you'll be a lot grounded from your experiences and will have an inner knowing of what's good for you and what's not. Imagine waking up from a restful sleep to a cool relaxing morning. You'll feel recharged, there's nothing in this world that you cannot accomplish. You'll gain true inner strength, my dears, but not overnight. The next coming months of your life will be one that your future self will look back to and smile, for you'll transform a lot, you're the mountain in the woods — grounded, serene and wise.

Also, some new opportunities are coming your way 💚 For some of you you'll meet new people who bring you fortune, some of you will receive money, or a new investment. For some of you, your future partner will be stepping into your life in the coming months 😁💕

You'll also have a new goal. This goal will make you feel hopeful and giddy. There's a lot of love vibes here so the goal can be in the romance apartment. Some of you will be going on a date! You'll find your heart overflowing with love and the ecstacy of new love 💖 Congratulations to you!!

For others of you, your heart will be a desert no more and the warmth of self love will flow through you. By showing love to yourself, you're manifesting your future lover into your life. Take it step by step and don't rush. They will enter your life surely, and if you practise self love you will be on your best state to welcome them.

Sky 3 — Blocks

Cards drawn: Eight of Swords, The Star

This pile shares the swords card with the first pile, but unlike the first pile which is active in their quest, there's a very oppressed and stagnant energy here. I hope you guys are okay. Someone doesn't want to move forward, I feel this someone is you. You might fall victim to your limiting beliefs, believing that you are restricted, but your current situation will not improve if you don't actively make a move. I hear “make a different choice”. If you feel stuck in the same situations over and over again, it's time to make a different choice. Stop being passive. Choosing the same doors every time won't bring you to new destinations. I feel you already know that, but there's no action from your part that affirms that you want a change.

I'm sorry to say that nobody will be able to help you if you choose to remain where you are. You must first make a move. When you do, even if the road ahead might be rocky, you'll encounter people who will help you. For some of you you have kept something in your heart for a long time. You want to say it but you fear what would happen if you do. Your current situation is what happens when you don't. You're called to make a decision — which way will you choose?

You might have also recently left a toxic part of your life, be it environment or people. Your heart has tears flowing, but the Universe congratulates you on your decision to leave this situation. Soon flowers will blossom from your tears, and you'll see that they lead you to a happier place, one where you'll feel you finally belong, one where happiness resides deep within your soul ❤️ Pile 3, are you ready to welcome this change into your life? Lick your wounds for however long you need. When you're ready, the stars will shine bright for you, and you'll know where to go.

“Be it rain or blizzard, my heart stays with you.” — someone who loves you.

Sky 4 — Pillows

Cards drawn: Death, Ten of Cups

You feel tired, dears, worn out. What you've been through must be rough. Please take a rest before you continue on your path, and don't argue with me. You need the rest.

You've seen lots over the past few months of your lives, things that made you question loyalty of people who you once loved. You are starting to have doubts whether you've made the right choices all along. You have, you're just going through setbacks but the sun still rises at the darkest times. Tomorrow we'll rise and try again, shall we?

The Universe advises you to spend time in solitude to reassess your life. Don't take everything in one go, try to adopt a slow and peaceful eye to your inner thoughts. Immerse yourself in your hobbies, this time not to make money or stress yourself out, but to take the time to enjoy them as only hobbies that are meant to bring you joy. They will make you feel so loved, and you'll start to see that there's warmth to every melting candle, there are things to appreciate in every low point in life. The Universe will be gifting you a change of perspective, my dears. Because in order to grow one must first see that there is more to life than how it used to be. Soon, you'll grow wiser in mind.

But a change of perspective isn't all that the Universe will offer you. You'll soon receive an offer, an invitation if you will to make a choice. This choice will pave the way to your future family, a loved one who will adore you like the diamond you are, and most importantly, true emotional connection. For some of you this person is a soulmate. Please note that this is only the beginning towards meeting them. This path will have its own challenges, challenges on you, on your future spouse, and on the connection between you two. So take my advice and rest up first my loves, you'll need it for what's next 💖💤💖

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Sherry Cola, Good Trouble

You may recognize comedian, actress, and writer Sherry Cola as Alice in Freeform’s Good Trouble. Additional TV credits include jewelry maker Natalie on I Love Dick, special agent Lucy Chen on Claws, and the iconic Lil’ Tasty. On the big screen, she can be seen in the upcoming Endings, Beginnings with Shailene Woodley, Jamie Dornan, and Sebastian Stan, and in the indie Sick Girl with Nina Dobrev and Wendi McLendon-Covey. No stranger to ambition in comedy, Sherry is also a successful stand-up comedian, performing regularly at The Laugh Factory, The Improv, and The Comedy Store. Sherry took a few minutes to chat with us about comedy, Good Trouble, and more. Check it out:

What is your experience of portraying comedy-aspiring first-generation Asian-American Alice? Can you talk about any similarities or differences between you?

I’m grateful to play a character that I never saw on TV when I was growing up. The deeper we get into filming these episodes, the more I realize how much it’s been missing. From speaking Mandarin to her best friend/ex-lover to diving into stand-up as a queer Asian female, Alice’s journey is so specific and overdue. Alice is adorably apologetic and she’s still finding her voice.

I’d say I’m more outspoken than she is, but we’re also similar in people-pleasing to the point of getting us in trouble. I heavily relate to Alice because I also have an immigrant mother who wasn’t well-versed about the LGBTQ+ world at first, but the more we show these stories on the screen, the more we can open minds!

Can you tell us about any funny or wholesome moments on the set of Good Trouble?

The scene in the pool for Malika’s birthday was super fun. It was almost 4 AM, and we’d already been floating in the water for 2 hours. I gotta give it up to our incredible crew for nailing all the messy shots of people jumping/falling in. It was hilarious being in that cloudy, chlorine-less human soup, just splashin’ around like little kids. Our entire cast adores each other so we’re always in good company. It’s a celebration when we have those big group moments.

Do you have a routine before you go up on stage to do stand-up? What is it, and how did you come up with it?

I do lots and lots of breathing because I’m nervous right before I hop on stage, no matter what. I also get very thirsty so I find myself going to the bar last-minute to get water. This happens every single time. I never think ahead and have the water prepared! I look over my jokes to remember which ones I wanna do. Then when I get up there, the throwing-up feeling disappears and I’m on cloud nine!

What is something you wish people knew about being a comedian in the industry as it is today?

Sometimes people take comedians too lightly. We deserve more props! There’s heavy stuff happening behind that microphone. We have the power to educate and touch the audience, in an almost brain-washy fashion, but not in a bad way. I can use jokes to shine a light on something like climate change, and people will walk away with a new perspective. Pretty cool!

If you could give any character on Good Trouble some advice, who would it be and what would you tell them?

This is the first time I’m officially saying this, but I’m team Callie and Gael. Y’all have something special, damn it! The fiery chemistry! It was spicy, but also tender...like a chicken nugget! Please give it another try and make some perfect babies!

Can you tell us a funny joke?

I saw this on a popsicle stick when I was in elementary school, and I’ll never forget it:

Q: What did the girl melon say to the boy melon after he proposed? 

A: We’re too young, we cantaloupe!

What advice would you give to your ten-year-old self?

STAY TRUE TO WHO YOU ARE! Things that made me self-conscious back then like non-American food that I’d take to school, or the fact that I never wore make-up, and just the general vibe of being unordinary - now I fully embrace it!

Who do you look up to?

I can’t even count on my fingers/toes/teeth/strands of hair how many people I look up to! From Sandra Oh to Lena Waithe… I have respect for all women of color who are pushing the culture forward. They motivate me to keep going so I can make just as strong of an impact.

Who inspires you?

My mom inspires the hell out of me. She came to this country and busted her ass off to make sure I have a comfortable life. Money means nothing compared to the feeling of making her proud. I get all my work ethic from her, from giving 110% to the importance of being on time, so she gets all the credit!

Can you tell us how Lakers-loving, jersey-wearing, Timberland-rocking Lil’ Tasty came about?

Lil’ Tasty is dear to my heart! She was a viral queen in 2016 because she was a breath of fresh air who said the most darn things. My friends Adam Episcopo and Rick Schaberg started a mockumentary-style series on Facebook called “Luber” which showed the lives of drivers who got rejected from Lyft/Uber. They asked me to create a character and naturally, as a lover of hip-hop, I knew this girl had to come equipped with obnoxious freestyle raps. Then I found an old Kobe jersey in my closet (RIP to the GOAT) and the rest was history. We shot these silly videos on a whim. We never expected to hit millions of views. Since then, Lil’ Tasty has built quite a fanbase, and I still have some things up my sleeve, so stay tuned!

If you could wake up as one of your characters tomorrow, who would it be, and why?

Waking up as Nuocki Mum would be dope. She’s an older Vietnamese lady who tries to keep up with the times. She’s completely oblivious but means well. She hits the nightclubs every weekend to stay young. I wouldn’t mind that!

Thanks for taking the time, Sherry! Check out the Good Trouble Tumblr for more.

Photos: Storm Santos

[gra-sonas]

WHAT BETTER WAY TO CELEBRATE THE RENEWAL OF ROSWELL NEW MEXICO FOR SEASON 4 THAN WITH A MALEX FIC! 👏

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is all @prouvaireafterdark​‘s fault btw. Lynne posted the screenshot of a tweet yesterday:

A few weeks ago, I tried to literally bore my 3yo to sleep by telling him everything I knew about nuclear and particle physics. It's a fair bit, it was my speciality once. Every night since then, as he's falling asleep, his little voice pipes up: "tell me about atoms daddy."

And she captioned the post Tell me these aren’t Michael Guerin dad vibes, I dare you

Well, I started writing what I thought would be a short ficlet in reply to the dare during my lunch break, but somehow there were a couple more words left to write.

So here are 2.3K (PG) words of dads!Malex and their son. The fic’s also been posted to AO3. 

~*~

It’s Michael’s turn to go through bedtime routine with Matt. Alex snuggles deeper into the warmth of the colorful throw Rosa gave them for Christmas and listens to his two favorites having a deep discussion about the necessity of flossing in the bathroom.

“Papa said I have milk teeth and that they’ll fall out when I’m older. I don’t need to floss,” Alex hears their three year old argue. He snorts. “They will fall out in about three years, that’s a long time for you to still rely on those milk teeth. Come here, Daddy’s gonna floss with you.” Michael’s reply makes Alex smile. He’s so good with Matt. Always happy to explain things, and answering their son’s million questions with the patience of a saint.

He loves Matt’s intriguing mind and his enthusiastic curiosity, but having to explain the ins and outs of cyber security to a toddler after a long day working on improving other people’s cyber security could be a bit much at times. Alex is just grateful that he gets to relax on the sofa and can leave it to Michael to take care of Matt tonight. He takes a sip from his red wine and closes his eyes. What a beautiful evening, and depending on how fast Matt will fall asleep, he has plans to make out with Michael like in the good old days. Just the two of them, in front of the roaring fire.

When he hears the pitter-patter of tiny naked feet on the hardwood floor, he opens his eyes just in time to see Matt speed around the corner, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Look, Papa, my teeth are clean and Daddy showed me how to floss!” He fletches his teeth at Alex, who leans forward to thoroughly inspect Matt’s teeth.

“Wow, you didn’t miss a spot. Excellent job!” Matt flings himself at Alex and wraps his small arms around Alex’s neck. “Daddy has promised to read me a bedtime story. Do you want to come?” Alex wraps Matt into a tight hug and breathes in his scent. Rain, just like his Daddy. Alex presses a kiss into Matt’s dark curls. “I’m a bit tired tonight, Matt, is it okay if I stay on the couch?”

“You stay on the couch and relax, Papa, Daddy and I can handle bringing me to bed.” Alex has a hard time keeping a straight face. “I’m so glad to hear that. Sweet dreams, sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning.” Matt plasters a flurry of wet kisses all over Alex’s face. “Me, too, Papa. Goodnight!”

He lets go of Alex, and storms out of the living room, passing Michael on his way out, who’s leaning against the door frame. “I won’t take long, we agreed on one bedtime story and me telling him something about the stars. That should put him to sleep quickly. Prepare to be ravished when I come back.” He throws a kiss at Alex who pretends to catch it. “I’m counting on it. I have plans. Wicked plans. I’m in dire need of a mind-blowing orgasm. You up for that?”

Michael pretends to adjust his jeans. “Not yet, but I’ll be, no worries. I’ll blow your mind, and if you’re asking nicely, also your dick,” he smirks. Alex laughs. “My husband’s a sweet talker. Go, get our kid to sleep, and then come back to me. I love you.”

Michael’s wicked smile turned soft. “I love you, too. I hope it won’t take longer than 20 minutes.” He turns around and leaves, the living room door falling shut behind him without Michael touching it. “Showoff,” Alex murmurs fondly, then he wraps himself up in the blanket again and allows himself to drift off for a nap until Michael’s return.

~*~

“Hey, sleepyhead, you still up for that mind-blowing orgasm?” Michael whispers into Alex’s ear almost an hour later. Alex feels Michael’s lips nibble along the sensitive shell of his ear. “Wh—whaaat? How long was I out? Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

Michael laughs. “Because we have the most inquisitive kid, who wouldn’t let me drone on about astrophysics as a means to bore him to sleep. Instead he thought it was a lesson and he kept asking questions. Dear god, what did we get ourselves into with him?” Michael rubs at his eyes. “He shouldn’t even be able to understand what I’m talking about, that didn’t keep him from asking questions, though.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m not the one with the genius brain who’s literally from another planet. He can’t have it from me,” Alex jokes. But Michael isn’t having any of it. “You’re the smartest man I know. You’ve hacked into NASA secret servers to get a blue print for me. There are very few people on this planet who’d be able to pull that off, and I’m certainly not one of them. He clearly has it from both of us, his current interest is just focused on asteroids and black holes.”

Alex pulls himself up into a sitting position. “Well, I feel quite refreshed and still very, very horny. What do you think about going to bed and working on those mind-blowing orgasms there? I just really want to fall asleep right after in your arms.”

Michael takes the blanket, folds it and puts it down on the couch. Then he offers Alex his hand and slowly pulls him into a standing position and into his arms. He presses his crotch against Alex’s, his dick already getting hard. “I’m very much up for your suggestion.”

~*~

Three weeks later, Alex returns home late after a meeting with a client that went on much longer than he would’ve preferred. The project will earn him a small fortune, though, so he didn’t feel like cutting things short. He takes off his jacket and washes his hands in the kitchen. He grabs a water bottle from the fridge and guzzles half of it down. The long drive back from Albuquerque’s made him thirsty, but he didn’t want to stop for water on his way home. When he hears voices coming from Matt’s room, he smiles.

Alex places the half-empty water bottle on the dining table on his way to Matt’s room. Matt and Michael look up from the book they’re reading (a story about the Milky Way) when he enters, and his heart grows at least five sizes in that moment. Matt may have his complexion and dark hair, but he has Michael’s curls and nose, and they look so much alike, Alex can barely handle the amount of love flooding him.

“Papa, Papa, you are back. I’ve missed you!” Matt scrambles up from the comfortable position in Michael’s lap to stand up, his arms reaching for Alex. When he’s close enough, Matt flings himself into Alex’s arms, and he’s glad that he expected this to happen, or else he might not have been able to catch Matt without stumbling.

He’s still grateful for the invisible force of Michael’s telekinesis steadying him. He keeps standing and holds Matt in his arms, while Matt tells him everything about the exciting day he had at kindergarten. Michael gets up from the bed and kisses Alex’s temple softly before he joins the family hug.

This, this is how Alex hopes it will always be. The three of them, a loving unit. Matt’s running out of things to tell eventually, that’s when Michael scoops him up in his arms. “Come on, buddy, your Papa had a really long day and he looks like he could use a break.” He turns to Alex. “Have you eaten yet?”

Alex shakes his head. “No, they served coffee and cookies during the meeting, but I could eat something more substantial. Like you said, it’s been a really long day, but I booked the job.” Michael’s face lights up. “Alex, that’s amazing. I knew you’d ace the meeting. I’m so proud of you!”

“I’m proud too, Papa,” Matt crows. Alex smiles. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll go to the kitchen and see what I can throw together real quick, I’m not really in the mood for cooking. Are you two good to do the bedtime routine on your own?”

Michael nods. “There’s leftover casserole in the fridge, ready to be warmed up. We’re almost finished here, I’ll join you when Matt’s asleep.” Michael leans forward and kisses Alex. Matt hooks his arms around Alex’s neck from his position and presses a wet kiss to Alex’s cheek. “Goodnight, dearest Papa. You did good today, I love you.”

Alex is ready to melt into a puddle right there and then. “Oh sweetheart, that means so much to me. Thank you. And I know you’ll be a good boy for Daddy and go to sleep without making a fuss now. Goodnight, sleep tight, and—“ “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Matt finishes the sentence. He giggles. “Goodnight, Papa.”

Michael kisses Alex. “Go, eat, I’ll join you shortly. Love you.” Alex tousles Matt’s and Michael’s curls. “Love you both so much!” With that he turns around and leaves for the kitchen. The last thing he hears Matt ask is “Tell me about atoms, Daddy."

~*~

20 years later

It’s a beautiful and sunny day in Massachusetts when Matthew Norman Guerin, an athletic young man with a wide smile and unruly dark curls walks up to the podium at MIT to give this year’s graduation speech. He doesn’t have a script (he doesn’t need one, he’s memorized the speech days ago), but his eyes search the front row until his face lights up and he smiles.

There they are, his papa, Alex Guerin, a dark haired man with attractive graying temples, and his dad, Professor Michael Guerin, sporting honey golden curls that look so much like Matt’s. His parents are holding hands and look up to the podium with such love and pride in their eyes, Matt has to swallow around a huge lump in his throat.

He clears his throat. “Before I begin my speech, please allow me to tell you something about myself and the two extraordinary people who raised me. It all started about twenty years ago, when my dad would try to lull me to sleep by telling me fascinating details about space and the universe that should’ve gone way over my head. I was only three years old at the time, and yet there was something about the things he told me, that intrigued and excited me. Instead of falling asleep, I kept asking him questions for almost an hour, and he answered them all.”

Matt runs his hand through his hair, a gesture that is so typical Michael, Alex can’t help but smile. Matt continues. “Both my parents have always answered all my questions. And if they didn’t know the answer, we’d look for an answer online, or call my aunt Liz. My family instilled this huge hunger for knowledge in me, and the excitement to do research. I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you without them, and I certainly wouldn’t have been offered a job with the NASA Deep Space program, if it wasn’t for them.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Alex notices the tears pooling in Michael’s eyes and he squeezes his hand. Michael squeezes back. “Dad, Papa, I’d like to thank you, for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for always answering my questions, for giving me access to knowledge, for encouraging me to search for answers. I couldn’t have done most of what I’ve achieved in my life without your love and support. I love you.”

The crowd around Alex and Michael erupts into applause. They both have tears running down their faces now, but they don’t mind. This is such an important day, and their boy is up there, best of his class, a bright future ahead of him. Alex leans over and kisses Michael softly on the cheek.

Later, when all the speeches are over and every student has received their diploma, Matt finds his parents in the crowd. His entire family’s in attendance, his grandma, Liz and Max, Isobel and Greg, and all his cousins. But Matt only has eyes for his fathers. He walks up to them - he’s taller than both of them “he’s got that from me,” Greg likes to claim - and wraps his arms around their shoulders.

Alex and Michael close the circle by hugging each other, and for a long moment it’s only the three of them. “I love you, Dad and Papa. Thanks for everything,” Matt says in a hushed voice. “We love you, too, Matt. And we are so proud of you. Thanks for being the best son we could’ve possibly asked for,” Alex says. One final squeeze, and then Matt’s swept up in hugs and congratulations from the rest of the family.

Alex and Michael stay where they are, arms wrapped around each other. “His existence alone is an absolute miracle, a kid carrying both our genes, but this day is up in my top five moments for sure,” Alex says, keeping his voice low. This is for Michael’s ears only. Michael nods. “Yeah, I think our first time, our wedding, and his birth are higher up on my list of favorite memories, but today’s a great day for sure. We did an amazing job with him.”

“I’m so proud of him, and I’m proud of us, Michael. And I love you more than words can say. Thanks for going on this adventure called life and raising our son with me.” Michael smiles and pulls their clasped hand to his lips and kisses the back of Alex’s hand. “I love you, too,” he whispers. “And I have every intention to show you later in our hotel room.” Alex laughs. “You are impossible, Michael Guerin. But yes, please do, I’ll never get tired of you showing me all the million ways you love me.”

And with that, they join the others in celebrating their son.

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 7

Scarlett woke up quite early this morning. She was feeling pretty good, apparently talking with someone and going out were pretty much what she has needed. She wanted to return the favour by preparing Severus's breakfast this morning. She dressed up and headed to the kitchens. She wasn't the brightest chef so just made cheese toast, scrambled eggs, cherry tomatoes to the side and fresh orange juice. She took the tray and headed to Severus's room happily. It was hard to hold the tray and knock on the door at the same time but she managed to do it without causing a mess. Severus opened the door couple of minutes later with a sleepy look on his face and a messy hair.

"Oh, i guess i woke you up this time..."

"We are even now. Come in." Severus showed her the table and she put the tray on.

"Today's breakfast is from me, hope you like it."

"It looks delicious, thank you." He sat down after her and took a bite of his toast.

"I did improve my kitchen skills tiny bit, i can show you sometime." Scarlett grinned proudly. She was not the best in the kitchen since her family always had house elves for the cooking. And when she was together with Severus, he was doing most of the cooking and he had a talent for it. His caramel brownies were Scarlett’s favourite.

"If you say so, i am excited to see then."

"Don't get your hopes too high tho."

"Ah i already did, they changed from 1 to 1,5." Severus smirked at her.

"You are a jerk Severus!" Scarlett chuckled and slapped his leg lightly.

He laughed, he loved to annoy Scarlett like that. "Jokes aside thanks for the breakfast Scarlett."

"My pleasure." She smiled softly. "I better leave so you can do whatever you want, i already woke you up early on a Sunday morning." She stood up to leave. Her mood has started to change, she felt like she’s being a burden for him.

"It is totally fine, i normally wake up early anyways. Last night i marked some papers so i went to bed quite late."

"Rest then. You already spent the last two days with me and i was pretty tiring with my nonsense."

Severus shook his head in disapproval. "I like spending my time with you Scarlett. We can all have problems time to time, life is not always easy and fun so don't feel guilty or anything."

"You do me good Severus, i feel better when i am with you..."

Hearing those words made his heart melt. He was very happy that he was actually being helpful to her.

"I will take the dishes and come back then. And meanwhile you can get dressed." She smiled and fixed his messy black hair slightly.

"Thanks..." Severus smiled shyly while she was leaving.

~~~~

    Scarlett was walking back to Severus's chamber when she came across with Professor McGonagall.

"Ah Scarlett i was looking for you! You need to go to Albus's room; you have a guest."

"Guest? Who is it?" Not many people knew she was staying at Hogwarts so she wasn’t expecting any guests.

"The new deputy minister."

Now Scarlett had a even more confused look on her face so McGonagall continued. "I know you are not in the mood for such meeting, so i tried to send him back but he was pretty persistent."

"That's weird but i guess i have to meet him... Thank you Minerva." She smiled and headed to Dumbledore's room. She knocked and walked in after hearing the headmaster’s invitation.

"Oh hello Scarlett! Someone wants to meet you, i will leave you alone." Dumbledore greeted her and then left, leaving her alone with the new deputy minister. The tall man has stood up, Scarlett took a look at him and first thing came to her mind was he was looking like a human version of a husky dog with blond hair. His light blue eyes were so piercing and made her feel uncomfortable in a way.

"Hello Miss Rose. I am Amos Langley, the new deputy minister." He held his hand out for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Langley." She shook his hand but his grip was strong enough to hurt her hand.

He looked at her head to toe attentively. He has seen her before but mostly on newspapers and magazines. She was the type of woman who so many men would dream of to be with. Even though she wasn’t looking her best right now, she still had the captivating aura. "I heard the news. It's such a shame you've been cheated on, you are such a beautiful and intelligent woman Miss Rose." Amos sent a tiny smirk to her way while sitting down. She was feeling extremely uncomfortable with him and just wanted this meeting to end as quickly as possible.

"My personal life is none of your business and I am asking you to be respectful. Beside that I am guessing you didn't come here just to meet me Mr. Langley, may i ask what's the real reason? Because i don't have much time." Scarlett replied firmly.

"I thought you have plenty of time Miss Rose since you are unemployed now. Anyways, the real reason is that i want to abolish a law which you legislated."

"You know you can do it without asking me, right?"

"I know but the minister wanted me to consult you first, he is still very fond of you Miss Rose." He made an unamused expression.

"Which law is that?"

"The one that causing death eaters to serve in Azkaban for rest of their lives."

"Why would you want to change that one?" Scarlett raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"I think it is very cruel to put someone in jail because they chose a different side than the majority."

"It is not about choosing a different side but the side they chose murdered innocent people and caused a war."

"Everybody deserves a second chance Miss Rose, even the "bad" ones."

"I am not the decision maker anymore; you can do whatever you want since you are the new deputy minister but if you ask me i don't think this law should be abolished." Scarlett stood up, she had enough of this man.

"Thank you for sharing your opinion Miss Rose but like you said, you are not the decision maker anymore. I just come here because the minister wanted it."

"Well okay then. Have a good day."

"You too Miss Rose, you too." Amos Langley watched her go with a challenging look on his face.

~~~~

Scarlett was so confused and annoyed, it was such a weird conversation and made her extremely uncomfortable. She went to Severus's room directly after it ended.

"I thought you got lost on the way." Severus said while letting her in.

"New deputy minister came here to "meet" me. But it was actually a showdown." She sat on a chair while murmuring angrily.

"By looking at your face, i am guessing you didn't like him?" Severus sat in front of her.

"I hated him. Severus he was just... so weird."

"What do you mean?"

"He kept calling me "Miss Rose" in an annoying tone, literally crushed my hand while shaking it, mentioned the cheating situation and he wants to abolish the law that i made about death eaters."

"I wasn't expecting that much fuckery to be honest. What is his problem?"

"I don't know but i got such a bad vibe from him, something is off with him but i can't put my finger on. I will write a letter to the minister later."

"That's a good idea. Don’t think much about him, probably he was just trying to annoy you."

"He was so weird..." she mumbled to herself once again.

~~~~

    Around 8 pm Carina and Remus turned back to Hogwarts after spending their weekend with Sirius.

"I will come with you, i want to see Scarlett as well." Remus followed Carina to her chamber.

"Sure, uncle Rem, hopefully she is doing better. I couldn't stop thinking about her."

"Her letters sounded good though. I think she is doing okay."

Carina nodded and walked in her chamber but it was dark and Scarlett was not here. She immediately started to worry, thought the worst and run to the Professor Snape's room, knocking it in hope to find her there. Nobody answered the door, now that made her even more worried if it’s possible.

"Where are they!? Did something happen to mum and he had to take her to the hospital...?" Carina was panicking and pacing around. Remus held her softly to stop.

"Don't worry if something has happened Severus would let you know for sure. Maybe he is in his class, marking papers? Let’s check there."

He walked her to the potions class and Carina rushed in with worried eyes. Severus and Scarlett turned to see the person who interrupted them.

"Mum!" Carina run to her. "I couldn't find you in the room, i was scared!"

Scarlett hugged her daughter and caressed her hair to calm her down. "I am fine, we are playing chess here."

"Oh... i am sorry that i rushed in Professor..."

"It is okay." He smiled slightly.

"How are you doing Scarlett?" Remus asked her while kissing her cheek. That caused him getting a deadly glance from Severus.

"I am good, pretty good actually. Thanks to Severus, he took care of me really well." She smiled softly at him.

"No doubt he did... Anyways, you are having the dinner with me tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, i would like that."

"Okay then, good night everybody." Remus waved at them before he left the classroom.

They wished him good night except Severus.

"Mum i will be in the room, okay? You can continue your game. Good night professor and thanks again."

"Good night Carina." Severus smiled at her and turned his attention back to Scarlett.

"I was taking your queen." Scarlett grinned and knocked his queen down. "Aaaand checkmate!"

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

[every-marveler-ever]

Another Will Come Tomorrow

Prompt: Pre Dawn for @tonystarkbingo June Flash Bingo (🎡)

Summary: Bucky enjoys the quietness of pre dawn

A/N: I’ve never written for Bucky/Tony before so I think that why it’s quite weird but I’ve signed up for the Stark Bucks Bingo because I wanted to improve my range so this was like a first attempt. Also, this title is giving me major Annie vibes and that was not what I was going for.

Also can be read on A03

Pre dawn is Bucky’s favourite time of day, the small silence he has before the sun decides to wake everyone else up in the city.

If New York wasn’t the city of lights he thinks he would like it more.

Not that he doesn’t like it. New York is great, there’s Stark Tower and that where all his friends are and the Yankees play there which really makes Steve wind up. So he does like it, just not as much as Brooklyn.

Tony wakes to a cold bed which isn’t unusual he knows they both have an unregular sleeping schedule and Bucky enjoys dawn. Tony prefers sunsets watching the world pretend to fall asleep to only be so much more alive 2 hours later.

Every morning like clockwork Bucky is out of bed to watch the sunrise.

Tony wakes up as soon as he can feel that Bucky’s gone.

“Enjoying it?” “Yeah” “Good.”

They’re content to sitting next to each other in the quiet, Tony bringing coffee for them both as they watch the sunrise.

When the sun is awake Bucky can hear the below floor yelling at each other over breakfast. “I should go before Steve catches me.”

Tony can see the thoughtfulness in Bucky’s eyes the knowing that this was okay. They just weren’t ready for everybody else to know. “You enjoy your run, Pete’s coming over today so I want to go help with breakfast.”

“Good luck.”

“I’m a great cook!”

“Sure, doll.”

Bucky gets up first kissing Tony’s forehead before leaving.

He might enjoy one thing more than sunrise and thinks the shiny gold ring on his finger symbolises that well.

Tony likes to stare at his ring as well. Other than the Dodgers one other good thing came out of Las Angles. A wedding. Just the 2 of them because that’s all they ever needed.

His phone breaks the silence. He has worked, and peter and breakfast to cook as well as a long list of things to do. The silence is broken now so the only thing to do is start.

“Yes Pepper I have the paperwork for you, Juliet should have put it on my desk, yes… no? Peter’s coming today.”

Bucky waves through the window still watching his husband on the balcony and Tony takes the time to wave back before rambling back to Pepper.

They’ll have another sunset tonight and another pre dawn tomorrow morning, all will be okay.

Masterlist / Tony Stark Flash JUNE Flash Bingo Masterpost

Bingo card:

[thexam-union]

So you know how I said yesterday that tagging that many things is a nightmare?

Disregard that. We’re doing fun facts about District 199 + Amity folk because 1 - I can, 2 - They’re my favourites and 3 - They’re both areas dealing with the end of life as is considered typical.

Let’s go!

Also this is the second time I’m writing this post, but we’re vibing! ++ Part 2 tomorrow !! ;3

Volans isn’t actually really in charge of the Sector. People go to them for assistance, sure, but they’re in charge because apparently someone had to be. At most they just check in to make sure no one’s imploded and hand-deliver the mail, most of their time’s actually spent doing tech support for WWTP radio. They also never get angry, and only raise their voice beyond inside voice levels to call out to you outside or to get your attention from halfway down the coridoor. They won’t be mad at you for anything. At most, they’ll be disappointed and give you pointers to improve.

Kalausi is the sort of person to dive headfirst into danger to get the story. Not a surprise to anyone on the planet, given that they voluntarily love being around Castula of all people. She also is the most likely one to dig up any given information, but again: Not a surprise. What might come as a surprise is that she’s utterly hopeless as far as romanticism is concerned. You say one romance-leaning word to Kalausi and she’ll panic and be more of a disaster than usual and pull in Volans to try and wingman them because she knows she’ll mess it up.

Nembus loves to take photographs of people when they’re just roaming, alongside their landscaping. Just because she can. As well as that, taking people to the tower and make them have a crack at their milk puzzle. Mostly because suffering can be fun if it’s not life-threatening! Also, people absolutely get given the photographs Nembus takes if they’re of them. What happens past that point’s down to them, and honestly? You can catch some really cute photos of couples around the island, too!

Wasat will absolutely be happe to tell you how they drive! Pile both you and herself into her car - very uncomfortable, and you will be on her lap the entire track length - and then go “ah, fuck, I don’t know what to tell you” because of their method of driving. They will say how they drive, at which point their qualifications are very much put into question. But people tend to enjoy it, even if the advice of “just follow intuition!” doesn’t land properly. But, they will also tell you the secrets of the Speedway track, given that they treat it like a second home.

Muphrid, despite it all is a relatively reasonable person, all things considered. A mostly unknown detail is that he used to record a lot of audiobooks back before the Swarm started nesting. More of a side project, because he already liked reading for leisure, and the accessible nature of it’s something they appreciate so much more these days. He mentioned it in passing to Alphecca one time and they came by with a rack of books that they mentioned being into, and also proposed the idea of “hey, if I can make side projects to put myself in harm’s way, can’t we use it to calm people down?”. So that’s a thing now!

Alkaid spends most of his time either at WWTP Radio or in District 199, because the skills are transferable and because officially he works there, respectively. They also always retreat into the break room when someone from the District comes in to use the photocopier, and feel just as much panic when something breaks in the District and they have to go check it out. They’re so much closer to the WWTP Radio staff than the News 16 staff, and much more distant towards the people that live in the District.

Antares - as everyone knows - is allergic about being emotionally vulnerable, and makes sure people keep the fact they have more than one (1) human empathy to their name a secret. What only one Jordan “Mortality Tax Fraud” Wakely knows is that they love looking at Catcrumb. Yes, the arsonist and violent shovel murderer sees cute MS Paint cats and that makes them so happy. What they’re relatively more open about is that their favourite album is Danger Days, and that playing music in general makes it a lot easier to put up with the Swarm making noises. That plus comfort album means they’re cosy!

Merga being so quiet about everything means they’re mostly considered a nonentity by the more action-first people, and aren’t out enough to be bothered and clowned on by Hornets. Wonderful news, since Merga really likes to not be stressed. If you come in without announcing yourself and Muphrid isn’t busy either - very rare - you’ll hear soft lofi in the room. Not loud enough to throw anyone off their rhythm, but it’s music that they both like a lot, and it’s calming, so! They both want the infirmary to be a relaxing area. Well, as relaxing an area it can be.

[fyexo]

200925 SuperM Dives Deeper with Super One

We meet the game-changing and boundary-breaking supergroup everybody needs to know.

There’s a rumble in the ground, a rupture, a star shining in the sky. Like a meteor landing on a quiet plain, SuperM – the Avengers of K-pop – landed in our lives, igniting the industry in unprecedented ways. With K-pop now considered a global phenomenon, how much more innovation is required to demand attention? The answer lies in the Capitol Records and SM Entertainment supergroup: the first K-pop act to debut in the US who immediately stole the show and made music fun again with their record-breaking 2019 introduction. SuperM consists of a diverse group of stars hailing from different groups: Taemin from SHINee, Kai and Baekhyun from EXO, Taeyong and Mark from NCT 127, and Ten and Lucas from WayV. They are the future, the charismatic force managing to both elevate and inspire. With Super One, the group’s first full-length album released on 25th September, they graduate from simply jumping and popping (Jopping!) to invoking the sincere emotions of listeners while simultaneously lighting up the room in the way that only they know how.

Baekhyun – the soulful vocalist, humble leader, and oldest member of SuperM – opens up about their growth: “When we first met, I could tell that the younger members were feeling a little nervous. But aside from working and performing together, we also naturally spent a lot of time together off stage, too.” In fact, their chemistry is palpable: “From sharing the same rooms when we were on tour in the US to shooting a reality show together recently, we made a lot of memories. Now, we’re like close brothers. We feel very comfortable with each other.”

Since joining the supergroup, Baekhyun’s Delight, released in May, became the first album in 19 years by a Korean soloist to sell over 1 million copies. Baekhyun says, “Shortly after completing my solo activities with ‘Candy’ [the lead single], I regrouped with SuperM, and I definitely feel more at ease in a group.” As evidenced by their discography, which fuses elements of hip-hop, pop, and various other genres, “We are always experimenting with different styles and trying to create something new so the synergy that we bring to the stage is very distinct and unique.”

Taemin has found similar success with his solo endeavours, recently releasing his best-selling project to date just this month. His 3rd Korean studio album, Never Gonna Dance Again: Act 1, hit number 1 on several iTunes Top Albums charts including the US and Canada. The graceful performer ponders the importance of embarking on this journey with the rest of SuperM. “Through our individual teasers, we wanted to tell a personal story about our beginnings—from how we developed our dreams to how we got to where we are now. They are reflections of our past that allowed us to become the artists that we are today.” For Taemin personally, who first debuted in SHINee in 2008, “This experience helped broaden my boundaries as an artist and I’m very thankful for that.”

Taemin’s wisdom is apparent in how he interprets his growth, “Although I’ve performed abroad many times before, SuperM was formed with the global market in mind so I took this as a new challenge and a great opportunity for me to learn and grow even more. Through SuperM, I was able to get closer to my international fans and learn more about their cultures. Because of the opportunities I’ve had more recently to perform on a global stage, my stage performances and mannerisms have improved and this has made me a stronger artist.”

Branded as fast-moving and dynamic, there were certain expectations for them to continue on this path. The motifs are intentional, but fitting, and as the endearing Hong Kong rapper Lucas puts it, “‘Movement’ and ‘speed’ for us carries a deep meaning and represents our strength and energy. It also describes how SuperM is always moving forward no matter how difficult the situation may be. There is no better tomorrow if you’re not moving forward.”

Taemin further reflects on this. “I think fans will be surprised to hear mellow, medium-tempo tracks that are not performance-based. Incorporating the performance element is of course one of the most important parts of what SuperM does in our music, but this time, we also wanted to emphasise a message of hope.”

Kai, lead dancer of EXO and Gucci ambassador, who will also be embarking on his solo career soon, shares that “I really want to perform ‘Infinity’ and ‘Monster’. Together, they form our title track, ‘One’. I’m excited to perform ‘One’ as well, but also would love to showcase the two tracks separately, as I think that would bring a different charm on stage.”

The love for this track is echoed by Taemin, an expert when it comes to this fusion of songs as SHINee also had a combination of tracks with 2012’s ‘Sherlock’, a mix of ‘Clue’ and ‘Note’. “With K-pop, you often have a gradual change of genres in one song, but ‘One’ brings together two completely different songs, so it’s fresh—but it still sounds very natural and seamlessly put together.” He adds, “The members’ vocals really stand out through these tracks so I hope fans enjoy!”

B-sides like ‘Together At Home’ and ‘Wish You Were Here’ are like a comfort blanket for fans, suitable for the current world climate. Kai recognises that impact and describes it as intentional, “Music can really lift your spirits when you’re feeling down so I hope people find healing and happiness while listening to our music. That would make us very happy.”

“FROM SHARING THE SAME ROOMS WHEN WE WERE ON TOUR IN THE US TO SHOOTING A REALITY SHOW TOGETHER RECENTLY, WE MADE A LOT OF MEMORIES. NOW, WE’RE LIKE CLOSE BROTHERS. WE FEEL VERY COMFORTABLE WITH EACH OTHER.”

Prior to the official album drop with title track ‘One’, several songs were released, each accompanied by their own electric music videos. The single, ‘100’, has lyrics written by youngest member Mark, who explains, “For ‘100,’ I wanted to really bring the energy of SuperM, because my verse opens up the track, and I wanted to really complement the song while emphasising our strength as a group and that we have the capability to be at the top.” The Canadian rapper, whose positive energy is contagious, says, “Taeyong and I also wrote our verses for ‘Together At Home,’ and I think we tried to keep the lyrics closely tied to the overarching message of the album. So for that song, we tried to envision what it’s like to be “together at home”, so staying connected to the fans and our loved ones while we are physically apart.”

Ferocious single ‘Tiger Inside’ was released on 1st September, and NCT leader Taeyong describes it best, “as a hip-hop song with an Asian-themed vibe. One part of the lyrics says, “Wake up the tiger inside” which I think describes SuperM’s energy really well. He eloquently personifies the group through a more artistic lens. “SuperM coming together is almost like a painting created using these different colours, to create a new work of art.”

Though promotions are hectic, Taeyong opens up about life outside of the spotlight, sharing, “I personally spent a lot of quality time with my family and also creating new music.” Mark has also been in tune with his rhythmic side, adding, “I’ve been listening to a lot of the new music that’s been coming out… Recently, Big Sean’s new album and Dominic Fike.”

The fashion of the group ranges from traditional Korean wear to modern hip-hop stylings, reflecting the merging of cultures, sounds, and themes apparent in their music. Lucas took a special liking to the outfits they wore for this comeback. “I wore a black outfit in the ‘One’ music video and it made me feel like a fictional character from a film or a book. I really liked the concept of that look. For ‘Tiger Inside’, I wore this beautiful emerald colour outfit with gold embroidery and intricate Asian-themed details—that was another one of my favourites!”

With everything going on in the world right now, Ten, the multilingual Thai singer and dancing king, says, “Right now, our biggest goal is to interact closely with our fans in the best way possible given the current situation. Even though we can’t meet each other in person, we want our fans to know that we are always thinking of them and that we are always trying to create opportunities to make us feel close.” He mentions ‘Beyond Live’, the platform SuperM spearheaded earlier this year to provide a virtual concert experience for fans.

“We are always thinking of fun and innovative ways to interact with our fans so we are definitely planning on doing many more online promotions that bring us closer together.” He elaborates, also sharing that he’s excited to finally perform songs off of Super One.

This album is a new era for SuperM, whose journey as a group has been far from ordinary but delightfully rewarding. As Baekhyun concludes, “When SuperM was first announced to the public, it may have been odd to see members from different groups come together like this to form a new group. But in spite of that, our fans have always cheered us on from the get-go and we’re incredibly grateful for their support.” SuperM’s awareness of the times they’re in and ability to adapt allow them to be a tantalizing force in the industry.

Though awards and accolades are nice, what makes this group special beyond their obvious talent and charm is the passion, grit, and hard work they put into what they do, and Super One is the ultimate care package and culmination of their gifts. Through music, they remind us that we all have the power to unite together as one no matter where we come from.

Ashlee Mitchell @ TMRW

[sakuwriteshere]

The Apple Pie in My Life - Chapter 9 : Lies

Summary: What happened between two best friends when someone messes with their lives? Can the past changes the future or can the future changes the past?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Female!Reader, OC Abbigail, OC James, OC Alex, OC Purson

Words count: 3707 words

Warnings: Angst, cursed words, mention of vomiting, betrayal

A/N: As per usual, this is unbetated and I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes or error spelling. Comments are loved!

Chapter 9 : Lies

Everything around you felt heavy and weird, like in an eerie dream you knew you were having but couldn’t wake up from. You didn’t know how long it has been nor how you ended up here, but there you were, sitting in the brothers’ motel room, surrounded by people that felt like strangers. The five of you were silent, except for the few sniffling sounds Abbigail made as she calmed down slowly. You took the glass of cold water Sam handed you and drank it at a slow pace. To be honest you didn’t know what you were doing, you went on autopilot mode since James had dropped the news like a bomb: they came from the future and you and Dean were (or will be?) their parents.

“H-how?” You asked in a strangled voice, your throat feeling dry despite the water you’d just drank.

Sam looked at you pitifully. You would think he would be more whiplashed than that after a news like this. He should feel the same way like you or his brother were feeling right now, unless…

Your head snapped in Sam’s direction, the both of you having a silent conversation. Slowly his pitiful face turned into an apologetic one.

He knew. That bastard knew and didn’t say anything!

You looked away, refusing his silent apology and your eyes fell on his big brother. Dean was sitting on the floor, in a corner of the room, his knees bent, elbows resting on them while his hands supported his head. Judging by the way he was staring at the floor, Dean was as shocked as you were.

“How long?” You asked Sam, avoiding his eyes.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck and took his time to answer you, he was choosing his words carefully.

“I suspected something very quickly.” He started to explain. “I just had the confirmation a few days ago.”

“And you kept it from us? From me ?” Dean finally spoke for the first time, an angry glare directed at his brother.

Sam shifted from one foot to the other, feeling bad for betraying his own brother.

“I thought... I thought you suspected something too.” Sam tried to justify himself. “I mean, look at them! It’s kind of obvious when you think about it.” He waved a hand towards the twins but you refused to look at them.

“‘Obvious’?” You chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, Sam! Meeting your kids from the future is something so obvious! Why didn’t I think about that before?” You didn’t care if you hurted him at this point.

“Look, I’m sorry, ok?” Sam said but the tone of his voice didn’t sound as sorry as he said. “They didn’t want me to let you know. They were scared it would change the future if you knew the truth.”

You understood their reasons but you weren’t going to let them know that. You had every right to feel angry. It wasn’t the first time a Winchester betrayed you, after all.

“The thing is,” Sam said after a moment. “I think the past has already changed. Your actual past is different from the one they know.”

Since no one spoke, Sam kept on going with his theory.

“Something happened between the both of you in our past and I think Purson is behind all of it. If we don’t do something the kids might disappear.”

Dean and you reacted right away hearing this. The idea of something happening to them felt like a slap in the face.

“What do you mean?” You and Dean asked at the same time, and for the first time you look at each other in the eyes.

“In their...huh...time?” Sam wasn’t sure how to explain this. “The two of you are like two peas in a pod but here you’re at each other's throat, literally.” You and Dean nodded, agreeing with that fact.

“I’ve been researching and there’s not a lot of information about this demon. I just know that he’s the guardian of the past, present and future. So, I think for whatever reasons, he went to the past and changed yours and Dean’s which will affect your future and by extension, the twins’.”

Dean stood up and came closer to Sam, the shock of learning he’s a father subsided a bit, leaving him in hunter mode.

“If you’re right and that demon really changed our past, how come the kids are still here?” He asked his brother.

“We’re not born yet, in this timeline.” James thought out loud, then turned his face to look at his sister.

Abbigail cocked her head on the side and thought deeply.

“We’ve followed him in this kind of portal. Maybe we’re not dead yet because we’re not even born here?” She tried.

“Yes. Yes!” Sam snapped his fingers, understanding where the kids were going. “All of this resulting in some kind of a…”

“Paradoxe.” Sam and the twins concluded at the same time, realization written all over their faces.

“Calm down Dr. Emmett Brown.” Dean said to his brother, and you couldn’t help but smile at the reference.

“No but Dean we’ve got something working with.” Sam ignored him, you could hear the gears working in his brain. “And I think I know exactly when Purson did something to change your past.” Sam added, making a face when he thought about it. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“What happened during that prom night?” He asked you and his brother.

Once again, the both of you had hard faces at the mention of that particular night.

“Nothing!” You and Dean said at the same time, the anger lacing your tones.

Sam gave you a bitch face, the way you acted was clearly a sign that he was right.

“Ask him!”

“Ask her!”

You said again in one voice. Dean mirroring the surprise on your face but quickly it was replaced with bitterness. How dare he? He was the one responsible in the first place and he was going to drop everything on your back?

You crossed your arms upon your chest and focused on the ugly, dirty wall next to you, refusing to look at anybody.

The room fell silent for a short moment, and Sam’s desperate sigh broke it.

“Y/N.” Sam called your name gently. He knew he wasn’t going to win over his brother so he went for the less difficult person. “Please.”

You shut your eyes and bit your inner cheek. Your resolve to keep it a secret breaking slowly. You hated thinking about that night. It was your most painful memory. That night you learned the hard way that having a normal life wasn’t possible for you. All your dreams and hopes were crushed in one second.

“Nothing happened.” You muttered sadly, you wrapped your arms around you as you fought against the tears. You hated how hopeless you felt every time you thought about that horrible night.

Since no one spoke, you kept on telling your story. “I’ve waited for your brother the whole night. He never came. See? There’s nothing to say.”

“You got balls!” Dean exclaimed, walking back and forth in the middle of the room. “Of course I wouldn’t come after what you did!”

“‘What I did’? I didn’t do anything!” You jumped from your spot, fists trembling from rage against your sides.

Behind you Sam gave the twins a reassuring squeeze, at least you were talking about that night. It was some sort of improvement.

“Oh right! Because you’re a saint! No better, you’re just like those Angels, real dicks!”

“Dean. What did she do?” Sam interfered, he needed to know Dean’s side of the story.

Dean glared at his brother, a vain attempt for him to tell his brother to let it go. He had built a strong wall around those memories. Never did he feel so betrayed since that night. Seeing you with someone else was one thing, the words you threw at him, those really hurt.

“Dean, do it for James and Abby.” Sam pleaded.

Dean shut his eyes and breathed deeply. His resolve crashing down.

“I…” He cleared his throat, the waves in his voice betraying him.

“I came the day before. I wanted to surprise you.” Dean said, a sad smile on his lips as he recalled that day.

You turned around, your brows furrowed as you didn’t remember seeing him.

“I was waiting for you in front of the highschool. When I spotted you, you were with that douche.” He spatted the last word, his face showing his disgust.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend, Alex.” Dean gave you a face, not falling for the dumb act you were giving him.

“What? No! Why are you making up things?” It was your turn to be angry. It was really a low move from him to lie and turn you into the mean one.

“It’s the truth!” Dean yelled and you were speechless when you saw the pain in his eyes.

“When I came closer you- you were so cold and distant. I didn’t recognize you.” Dean kept on going, truly decided to tell the truth.

“You could have simply told me to leave but no, you had to be mean, you had to hurt me. You were my best friend Y/N, how could you use my deepest secrets to hurt me?” He asked, tears pooling in his eyes.

*FLASHBACK*

As soon as he spotted you in front of the big main doors, Dean climbed out from his beloved Impala, excited to see you and show you that his dad let him borrow Baby for your special night. He wanted to make it special for his best friend.

His smile fell once he stopped a few meters away and saw Alex’s arm draped over your shoulders. He swore you’ve smirked when you saw him. Dean blinked at that thought and the next second he saw you kissing Alex deeply.

Dean didn’t let this bother him and came closer, greeting you and ignoring Alex perfectly.

“Hey Y/N. Long time no see, huh?” Dean tried to be casual but there was something strange about you, he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” You asked, and Dean could hear the disgust in your voice when you said his name.

“Hmm, the prom night? It’s tomorrow, remember?” Once again he tried to ignore all the weird vibes he got from you. Maybe you just had a bad day?

“Right.” This time he couldn’t be mistaken, you really smirked. “The thing is, I don’t need you anymore. I’ve found better.” You said as you wrapped Alex’s neck with your arms, looking at him lovingly.

“Alex? Really?” Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that. For sure you were playing him, it was a very bad joke but Dean couldn’t understand your humour sometimes.

“Hey don’t act like you’re better than him!” You replied angrily. “You Winchesters, always thinking so highly of yourself. You’re just trash! A real pain in my ass.”

Dean couldn’t speak. He had never heard you speak like that. The lack of response just fuelled you to keep going.

“We all know that you’re not the one you pretend to be, Dean. Underneath your whole ‘I could give a crap,’ bad-boy thing that there is something more going on, something ugly and so true. And you spend so much time trying to convince people that you're cool, but it's just an act. We all know that you're just a sad... lonely little kid.” You told him, the dark smile on your lips growing the more Dean’s face fell.

“And you’ll end up alone, Dean. Mommy left you, I’m leaving you. Your dad doesn’t care if you’re on your own or not…” You trailed off, at some point you had let go of Alex and walked closer to Dean, whispering all his darkest secret fears. You were so close to him, your body touching slightly and you laughed to yourself when you felt his body shaking against yours. Slowly you brought your lips to his ears and whispered what you hope would be the last nail in the coffin.

“And one day, little Sammy will leave you too.”

Dean pushed you from him violently, he looked at you with so much hate, his eyes teary. Inside you were gloating.

Without saying a word Dean left, running towards his car. The door cringed and slammed powerfully. You watched him driving away, a pleased smile all over your face.

A job well done.

***

Everyone in the room was speechless once Dean finished to tell his side of the story. You couldn’t believe your own ears. You didn’t remember any of it.

“Why are you lying?” You asked in a shaky voice.

Dean brought his face closer to you and planted his gaze in yours.

“Look into my eyes and tell me if I’m lying!” He yelled at you.

You stepped back, shaking your head no. You believed him but you knew you didn’t say those things to him. Even after all those years and the bitterness you felt towards him, you wouldn’t say it. You knew Dean was scared to be left alone, his family was everything to him.

“I didn’t...I would never...You have to believe me.” You choked on your words, feeling the air leaving your lungs as you started to panic. You didn’t know what was going on anymore.

Sam pressed his body between you and Dean, a hand on each other’s chest, separating you a bit more and he gave you a reassuring smile.

“I believe you, Y/N.” He said gently.

“Sam!” Dean argued, hurt that his brother preferred to believe you instead of him.

“And I believe you too Dean.” Sam said quickly, his voice strong, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

You and Dean gave him a questioning look, not understanding how he could possibly believe the both of you. Sam’s hands fell from your chests and took a step back.

“Remember what we’re hunting. Purson is a demon. I believe you Dean when you say that Y/N had acted that way and I believe you Y/N, when you say you don’t remember any of it. There’s only one explanation possible…” Sam said calmly, everything had finally clicked together.

“She was possessed.” James and Abbigail gasped when the realization hit them.

Hearing this, your heart stopped. How could it be possible? You didn’t remember anything, you weren’t the best hunter in the world but you would remember being possessed if it happened to you.

“Think about it, Y/N. It makes sense. Purson possessed you, demons can read into your minds, knew everything you knew and used it against Dean to hurt him.” Sam explained, oblivious of your distress state.

“I would remember if it had happened. Possessed people can remain conscious, trapped in their own body. I should remember this!” You tried to find a flaw in Sam’s theory, you had to. There was no way you would accept that you’ve been possessed without knowing. There was no way something like this could make you feel so helpless.

“Not if it didn’t want you to know.” And with that simple sentence, Sam destroyed your last hope. Seeing the defeat crawling over your face he quickly added “I’ve been possessed, I know what I’m talking about.”

Knowing that even Sam could have been possessed didn’t make you feel better, on the contrary it made it worse. If even a Winchester could be possessed then, there was no hope at all.

Bringing a shaking hand over your mouth, you started to feel sick, a heavy weight down your stomach. You didn’t care anymore that you were crying, the tears falling freely down your cheeks. Without a warning you rushed into the bathroom and didn’t care if the people behind you could hear the disgusting sounds you made as you threw up into the toilets. You barely register the sound of something crashing in the other room and Dean yelling a ‘Son of a bitch’ at no one in particular.

“Why us? Why do things like these keep happening to us?” Dean asked his little brother, he knew Sam wouldn’t have all the answers but he hoped he would have this one at least, for his own sanity.

Unfortunately, just like Dean feared, Sam didn’t know, a slight shake of his head as a silent answer. Dean sighed and let his body fall heavily on one of the beds, covering his head with his hands while he thought about all those years he had lost, all the pain, fear and rage he had felt, all of this for nothing.

“Dad…” A soft and scared voice came from behind him and Dean tensed at the word, he couldn’t help himself but jerked away at the soft touch falling on his shoulder.

Abbigail stood next to him, hurt written all over her face because of his rejection. He felt bad, so bad, when he saw her face. As he learned the truth behind his past, he had forgotten that Y/N and he weren’t the only ones pushed down into this hellish mess. But Dean couldn’t help them at the moment, he knew the children, his children, needed him more than ever but this was too much, even for him.

As he gave Abbigail an apologetic glance he saw James coming closer, wrapping Abby’s body with his arms, giving her the comfort she needed.

“It’s alright Abby. Give them time.” James whispered into his sister’s hair as he embraced her strongly. Then James stared into Dean's eyes, a strange but somewhat familiar glint in his Y/E/C’s eyes. Dean knew this feeling, he’s seen it in his brother’s eyes a few times, hell, Dean knew he had this kind of flame burning in his own eyes so many times. He knew this feeling. A silent promise.

Everything’s alright. We’ll deal with it. I’ll protect you.

Even though your stomach felt empty, you stayed into the bathroom, sitting on the cold, stained tiles, one arm braced over the toilet bowl, your dizzy head pressed against it. Everything was strangely calm around you, no sound could be heard. It took you time to understand that the Winchesters and the twins had left the motel room. You accepted the loneliness gratefully. There were too many things running into your mind to let you care for the others. Your whole life was a lie, every decision you made since that awful night had been dictated because of a demon who played you. You sniffled a few times as your breath slowed down, coming back to a normal rate. The last of your tears falling down your already wet face, tears coming from the efforts and the pain as you thought about the time you lost.

Suddenly a warm, big hand came over you, stroking gently your back in a soothing manner. You felt another hand pushing away your hair on one side.

“You alright?” Asked a deep but soft voice. You squeezed your eyes even more, a sad smile lifting your lips up.

After everything, he was still the one taking care of you. Knowing what you now knew, you couldn’t understand why he was here. Between the both of you, he was the one who hurt the most. Even though it wasn’t really you, the fact that his best friend was the one who voiced his deepest fears was still a real thing. And yet, despite everything, here stood next to you, Dean Winchester. Your best friend.

Your former best friend.

It was so easy, knowing the truth, to forgive him. You still felt the pain of the betrayal of course, but how could you be mad at him for not coming that night? Who would have come after such horrible words? You pushed him away gently, giving you room to stand up. You didn’t dare to look at him as you walked toward the sink, to rinse your mouth and wiped your face with cold water.

The silence between you wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be. Dean gave you the time you needed to compose yourself.

“Here.” He said as you turned around, finally facing him. He handed you a necklace; a silver pendant in a form of a sun surrounded by a pentagram.

You took it, narrowing your eyes at the strange object.

“To prevent demons possessing you.” Dean explained and you fell down that hole again. You thought about all the mean things you told him that day, tears pooling into your eyes once again.

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t.” Dean ordered you quickly, his voice a bit raw.

“I should be the one apologizing. I was the one who let you down.” He said, staring at the ceiling as he avoided your eyes, fists clenched tightly against his sides.

“Dean, no…” You trailed off, unsure of what you could say to make him feel better. Why did he always feel responsible for everything? You understood why he did it, you would have done the same thing. The betrayal he felt that day should have been ten times worse yours.

“We’ve lost so many years.” You murmured as you curled your fingers around one of his fists.

The touch surprised him slightly but he let you do it anyway as he lowered his gaze to see that it was your turn to avoid his eyes.

A soft smile stretched his lips as an unknown feeling warmed his body. Without thinking, Dean wrapped one arm around you, pushing your body against his, your face pressed against his warm chest. Your eyes widened at the unsuspected friendly gesture.

“It’s alright.” Dean murmured against your temple.

You closed your eyes and wrapped both of your arms around his waist, accepting the peace even if it was just for a short moment. His silent promise warming your heart and calming your nerves. You pushed back the scary ideas in the back of your mind and just enjoyed the embrace, one you’d missed for so long even without knowing it. However, deep down you knew. You knew it wouldn’t be alright.

It was already too late.

TAPiML tags:  @fandomoverdose666​​​​ , @eternaleviee , @slytherinrising​​​​ , @vicmc624​​​​ , @music-is-all-i-need​​​​ ,

[eutaerpe]

the kim social test

pairing — jungkook x reader 

word count —  15.4k

genre/warnings— fluff, friends to lovers au. domestic!jungkook, jungkook in a towel, kissing, mentions of sex. and they were roommates! trope, namjoon is attractive (even though we all knew this), mentions of drinking because Taehyung creates the Kim Social Test while drunk and Jimin prompts to get wasted maybe more than once. who knows. rom com undertones?

summary —  “I’m moving out.” These are the first words Jungkook hears on a fatal Thursday morning, hands holding onto the kitchen counter. A mixed feeling paints his expression. “I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think we both know that it’s the right thing to do. I can’t stay here anymore.”

alternatively, “it takes more than five exhibits for you to prove that Jungkook is a zero, according to the Kim Social Test”.

notes —  i accidentally started writing this in first person. 3k words into the story i realized my mistake lmao i thought about changing it, but it would have affected the writing style of TKST which was supposed to be a short thing about jungkook and the reader shy panicking, moving in together, becoming friends and guk eventually getting a blowjob. life really be like that sometimes, huh? anyway i hope you all don’t mind because tkst is my baby ♥︎ it might be flawed and i, for myself, can already see space for improvement. reading my a smoking party draft, i can see how much i’ve improved. this style is something fresh and new for me lol i’m so excited to share something i’ve worked on since january. let me know what you think  ♥︎

THE KIM SOCIAL TEST

(or “it takes three attempts to realize that Taehyung can be, indeed, right too”)

“I’m moving out”

These are the first words Jungkook hears on a fatal Thursday morning, hands holding onto the kitchen counter.

A mixed feeling paints his expression.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think we both know that it’s the right thing to do,” I add, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“So, you’re moving out. Definitely,” he ruffs his own hair, voice steady and low, his typical morning voice. Even though it seems like he’d like to add more — start asking questions, clear any doubt — I interrupt him, trying to sound as firm as possible.

“Absolutely,” then he nods, slowly, “I’m moving out.”

 HYPOTESYS: JUNGKOOK IS A ONE

— 6 months earlier —

It starts like this.

“I’m moving out,” I declare, as Jimin opens a bottle of beer. “Tomorrow, as a matter of fact.”

Taehyung beams, excited, “Y/N! That’s amazing!” - he engulfs me in a friendly hug, laughing openly - “With this short notice? Fucking fantastic. Where are you going to stay, then?”

I see Jimin filling our glasses, a satisfied smile on his lips, too.

I can’t help but sigh at the sight. Things are going to run smoothly from now on. I can feel it. All according to my plan, nevertheless. God knows how much I wanted that job - (“Hello, Namjoon! Yes, it’s still me, any news on the… yes, I know, trust me, I know it’s only been a couple days, yes, they usually take a week or two to choose the interns, let alone the newcomers… That can do! What’s four, five more days? I can wait for weeks. It’s not like I have a place on the line. Or my whole life. Mhm. Yeah. Yes,” smiling sardonically, I start tapping my fingers on the desk, “Always a sweetheart. Thank you again, Namjoon!”) - wanted out of that small, reeking apartment I had, up until yesterday, to share with two guys I hope I’ll never meet again in my life (as Jimin once said, get wasted with me and you’ll forget them. As Taehyung once replied, have sex with me and you’ll even forget your own name. I agreed to the first reasonable proposal, but apparently even getting drunk with Jimin doesn’t help. Especially if, after the second Negroni, sometime before sipping from the glass Jager, you stop thinking clearly and end up at your place with a heavy Jimin partially covering your figure. Ergo, we went home. We woke up with a terrible headache just as my I’d-rather-forget roommate greeted us, more than partially naked, definitely wasted, absolutely stenching).

“I-uh, I think you know the guy? At least, mentioned him a couple of times over the years? Jeon Jungkook?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, tongue wetting the upper lip. “The Jeon Jungkook?”

“Roommate of Min Yoongi? The one and only?”

“Yeah, he’s leaving for an internship abroad he didn’t think would win, so he left Jungkook with such a short notice he had to actually go look for someone to pay half the rent with,” I explain, “What’s up with the tone, though? He seemed nice. Over the phone he almost sounded shy. And I’m the one saying he seemed shy. I couldn’t talk to any of you for the first weeks of high school even though we walked the same way home and had known each other for years. Me!”

“The chances of Jungkook being shy are the same as me being a virgin,” Jimin explains, rolling his eyes.

I furrow my forehead. Things don’t add up. “I don’t believe you,” My purple haired friend drops dramatically his head on his hands, “Not the virgin part, I know you won’t tell me whom you had your first time with, which, by the way, rude, but I’m pretty sure there has been one to begin with— “

“Trust me, there’s been even more than one with that same person.”

“Taehyung, gross,” I exclaim, “Not the point. I’m not interested in your sexual life— “

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Tae shrugs. Jimin groans. I close my eyes, red staining my cheeks—See? Shy! I told them. I’m the shy one. And I can sense a shy one around me. Jungkook gives off this… timid vibe. I’m sure of it, I can’t be wrong, for God’s sake.

“I don’t believe you, at all. Twenty bucks says the guy’s a timid, socially awkward introvert too nervous to muster up the courage to even talk to me.”

They look at me in disbelief. I can’t believe them. I have good instincts. They know it, too. So what? They mentioned the guy a few times over the years. It’s inevitable—they’re friendly, outgoing, extroverts. They know people. They inevitably bump into people when they’re out partying and going to class and joining groups and going to the gym.

Apparently, there are people who can juggle between three different activities while at college. Activities that don’t include showing up to classes, calling your mother at least once a week, and searching for a job. Duh. Who knew?

People nowadays judge before getting to know others. It’s something millennials and elders have in common, every now and then.

Plus, rumours are worse than the Black Plague. You wake up and tell a friend you feel this is your lucky day, then it turns out people say you got up flexing on how you got lucky. And you had your walk of shame. While sore. And naked. Because in this fucked-up scenario, you’re born confident in your own body. And your walk of shame is very valid, even though it’s in your own house. (Read: this is a fucked-up scenario) Gasp! How rumours fly. How much stories are accurately changed and automatically deterred with a simple misunderstanding.

It’s 2019, for Christ’s sake. Give the kid the benefit of the doubt.

“Agreed,” Jimin says, a smug grin on his lips, right before Taehyung shakes my hand, smirking openly.

 EXHIBIT A

Okay, so. In hindsight, it’s 2019. Never trust first impressions. Or your superb instincts.

Jungkook? Older than me. Just slightly, however. Bigger than me. Bulkier than what I imagined him to be. Sure, he had a sweet voice but what’s the point, huh, when you’re almost six feet tall and as intimidating as Jimin when he’s dancing? Or Tae when he plays the piano?

“I call bullshit, what the fuck,” I hiss, holding onto my phone, “You agreed to this even after I told you ‘I can’t believe you, you’re fucking making this up’?”

“Especially after that,” Tae sighs, and I want to punch him, “I can’t say no to free money. Well, fairly earned money.”

“Where’s fairness in all this? You let me move in. With a guy. That is—how can I say this?”

“Hot? Very fuckboy-ish?”

I refrain myself from answering. What have I gotten myself into? So much for things finally running smoothly.

“Very Not Shy,”

“Oh, what a curious phrasing. Have you talked to him yet? Or better—proved my Kim Social Test right?”

The Kim Social Test – also widely known among your friends as the infamous Kim Taehyung’s third attempt to be right – is something he made up while tipsy (because he can’t possibly hold his liquors, although one would never hear this coming out from Taehyung’s own mouth), frowning and frustrated. It’s more like an investigation of all sorts aimed to prove one’s social skills, ranking from one, id est a nice, cute introvert who, given the chance, will surprise you, to twenty-three, as in the years Tae and Jimin had known each other when Tae made this test up. Not that I’ll ever admit it to him, but I suppose there’s partial truth somewhere in between all those steps, fuelled by the dark-haired friend of mine’s interest in psychology, reverse psychology, communication, and his instincts.

Step one: talk to the person in question.

Step one failed.

Unless Jungkook’s the one trying to test the KST on me.

“What I’m trying to say,” I begin, unsure, “Is that he smiled. Offered to help with my things. Explained how things work here – anything from the absurd no dating slash no couples! policy, to how to deal with neighbours. Turns out that the landlord is staying on the floor below ours, while the landlord’s son in on the floor above. But I’m digressing,” Taehyung snorts, the great friend, “He was being nice—borderline over friendly, then said not to mind his absence, every now and then, because he needs to de-stress, if I know what he means, and I’m always free to try his car with, uh, him, if I know what he means.”

“So, your paranoid ass is trying to tell me he hit on you twice?”

“I’m finally out of that squalid place even you promptly detested and I knock into this splendid flat – you should see how neat and spacious it is – only for it to be inhabited by some horny guy who’s keen on getting laid. Tell me how I should feel, Taehyung.”

Taehyung stays silent for a hot second, slightly worrying me that he hung up on me.

“I’ll tell you what,” – the best friend suggests, while I start twisting my ring – “Jiminie and I are coming over this evening. He’ll see us, he’ll understand, he’ll back off. In this precise order. You in?”

“Roger that, captain.”

This prompts Taehyung’s laugh, loud and dazzling, the comforting noise filling my ears.

 EXHIBIT B

Step one: talk to the person in question.

A month ago, this mere action would have terrified me. Which is a solemn hypocrite thing of me to think, now, because, as a matter of fact, it threw me off. Not one bit of me was safe and sound, after I non-talked to Jungkook when I moved in. I didn’t think I’d ever muster up the courage to converse to him—maybe just to politely decline his feeble and frantic advance.

(“Fuck, you’re so dramatic,” were Jimin’s first words when I opened the door that night. Maybe so, Park.)

However, I was substantially right. I soon realized that maybe my roommate – twenty-two, almost 6 feet tall, shows a playful tendency to wear only commonly dark clothes – really is shy. After Jimin and Taehyung came over, that very same day, he turned into a mess, avoiding altogether eye contact with me, backing away even when my friends – not anymore concerned – offered him dinner.

A spur of bravado, we agreed later on that day. Known that – understanding that maybe he was just as excited and terrified about the new intruder as I was—made us magically forget altogether about that small… incident. About the awkward spur of bravado, I mean.

“Tough Tuesday shift?”

Jungkook is spread on the couch, his long form lost among all the cushions. He’s holding what I assume are papers he needs to grade, several of them scattered on the coffee table before a mug of tea and three red pens. Being an assistant teacher suits him, in a way. He’s tidy, neat, precise – I’ll never stop repeating this sudden realization in my mind. He revealed, on a late night, the movie long forgotten, that doing the laundry calms his nerves. Can’t quite believe that this is the same person who implied he needed sex to relax.

“Let’s say Namjoon doesn’t forget easily,” I try to joke as he grins warmly, adjusting on the couch so that he faces me more comfortably. He studies me as I take off my coat, his inquiring gaze following every move I make – including me staring back at him.

“Seokjin-hyung came by, an hour ago or so,” he announces, passing a hand on the dark grey sweater hugging his torso, “Left something he prepared because he’s convinced I can’t cook. The very same person who taught me how to properly feed myself—can you believe it?”

Although his tone is teasing, tainted by almost pure disbelief, he keeps on grinning. I chuckle. “Yeah, how rich of him.”

“If you’re not planning anything, we could have real dinner together. Finish Haikyuu!’s third season on the couch. We could even just complain about your boss, really. If you’re up for it, I mean,” he rubs the nape of his neck, discarding on the coffee table the papers that moments ago he was holding.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’s his very own person, discreet, kind, nonetheless quiet. He does things a lazy eye wouldn’t even notice; someone uncaring would not bat their eyes at his deep, silent actions that speak more than words could ever. It’s more than just wearing his heart on his sleeve – it’s caring and being attentive not just because sometimes it’s convenient or it casually happens. There’s meaning beside his every action, led by his desire to truly be helpful. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s really not the person people make him out to be, and I mentally scoff at Tae and Jimin’s antics when I said ‘Jeon Jungkook?’ and they had answered with ‘The Jeon Jungkook?’, staining his… persona. His kind soul.

I hum, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, it sounds amazing. I’d like that.”

His bunny smile makes a bashful appearance.

***

Step two: pay attention to the body language. Spot the differences between how the person in question talks and acts.

The first time I hear about Mina it’s on a Wednesday afternoon, and Jungkook’s not home.

Following Namjoon around for the entire day meant that the smart, charming new leader of the Publishing Department – a promotion he got a few days after I became his colleague – got, at the same time, amused by my… consistency and tired of having me as his new shadow.

He, of course, understands what it means to be new, fresh out of college and passionate about my new job and has tried, for the past few days, to challenge my abilities – perhaps soon, yes, but the glint in Namjoon’s dark eyes tells me that he sees in me the same young guy he was himself, not even a long time ago. Hence the try-doing-this-on-your-own with its thrilling sequel I’ll-be-here-when-you’re-done he’s thrown on me lately.

Which is a nice way of saying you’ve become bearable but as the new leader I’ve got more work on my hands, so I can’t guide you through this new world slash don’t make me regret trusting you. I swear, this man has a way with words Hemingway could never.

Anyway, this explains why I’m working on this novel – the debut work of a young writer Namjoon firmly believes in – in our living room, laptop on my thighs and manuscript in my hands. On a Wednesday afternoon. Alone. Because Jungkook’s Wednesdays are, in this order, full of assholes actual-professors that expect the most from him, gym, kick boxing with Yugyeom, and finally coming back home to hit the shower and fucking rest.

Apparently, however, Yoongi isn’t aware of his former roommate’s schedule, because he’s Skype-calling him, in this very moment. I’m not snooping into his stuff, not at all, it’s just that the last time they did this – having a video call like two adorable siblings – Jungkook used my laptop and forgot to log out.  Which is a very good explanation for why Min Yoongi’s eyes are staring into mine.

“Y/N?”

“Hi,” I splutter, as surprised as he sounded. “Seems like Guk forgot to log out since you last talked.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, hands in his wet, mint hair. “Is he home? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him, but the kid’s been avoiding all my calls.”

That doesn’t sound like Jungkook. Sure, he’s not winner of the year for the fastest replier ever existed, but in decent time – which can vary between two hours and two days – he gets the message (pun intended) and decides to grace his acquaintances with an answer. Or a call back.

“No—Wednesdays are usually the worst week-days for him,” as I explain, though, I can’t help but notice the deep sigh Yoongi exhales. Or the tiredness of his expression. “…but as soon as I see him, I can deliver a message for you, if you want? He’s gonna be tired, no joke, but I’ll make him call you back, I promise.”

The sympathetic smile he sends my way makes me want to punch my roommate. Which would probably hurt like hell, if the ungodly hours he spends at the gym are anything to go by.

Still: Min Yoongi being exhausted because of him is a good reason why I should at least try to hit him. Min Yoongi is Jimin’s… idol, famous in the music department with a deceiving reputation of being anything but sociable. Wrong, terribly wrong. He’s not. He’s a small loving and caring friend in the body of a small human. The amount of times he called to make sure Jungkook was okay is— truly admirable. (He even helped Jimin with a project of his, once. Hence the epithet of the one and only. I have a terrific theory of him being somehow linked to my Jimin, but no one has still dared to answer me. Jerks. Tae and him both.)

“Sure. Tell him his to talk to his girlfriend. I’m tired of having her blabbing no stop about how much of a jerk he’s turned into lately and disputing whether declining her calls means he’s cheating on her or a strategy of his that will end with Jungkook surprising her on their anniversary.”

Wait, what?

“Jungkook has a girlfriend? He’s in a… romantic relationship that doesn’t involve playing Overwatch with Taehyung on Friday nights?”

“You don’t know about Mina?”

“What the fuck is a Mina?”

He stills for a second. “I… I don’t understand. Are you shitting me?”

“I’m not. I know there’s a strict rule about not bringing your dates over and not fucking in this apartment, but I’ve never heard of her. He never mentioned her. I’ve never seen this girl, never even knew she existed before you told me.”

Yoongi begins scratching his forearms. He tilts his head, staring into the void of his room.

“What the fuck,” is the final summary of his train of thoughts. Yeah, what the hell. “I’m not sure I want to be part of this helping circle anymore. We always joked that Jungkook would turn out to be the reason why Jin-hyung will have grey hair, but I never imagined he’d be mine too. I swear, this kid.”

“I can still talk to him, though. This isn’t lying, not even sure if it counts as lying by omission but…” I shrug, “I don’t know. I’m wondering why he kept his mouth shut.”

Yoongi mutters something I can’t make out, then asks if I can still deliver the message and abruptly ends the conversation.

You live for a month with a guy and think you know him. It stings in a funny way knowing you don’t.

Jungkook finds me on the couch when he comes back home. He has tiredness written all over his face – his crinkled forehead, his sweaty appearance; I can sense it among the silent grunt and deep sighs he exhales thinking I’m not in the living room.

“Hey,” I pout, eyes on the manuscript.

My roommate turns around in a swift move, eyes wide open. “You still up?”

He’s tired. I know he’s tired. His velvet voice doesn’t betray his shape. I don’t buy it.

I hum, turning on the couch so that he can’t see my face, my eyes still on the novel. I can see him pausing and wondering what’s going on in the periphery of my sight.

“Yoongi wants to let you know you should stop ignoring him and your girlfriend so she can stop pestering him. Virtually hugs you and sends a thousand kisses, too.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but then I hear his footsteps and I see him in front of me, licking his lips, lost in his thoughts. His fingers move continuously on the bag he’s holding. As I focus my gaze on his face, I realise that what hurts more is that he didn’t trust me enough with this information rather than not fully knowing him, my roommate. It doesn’t concern this specific piece of information, per se, more the fact that he didn’t feel comfortable enough in sharing something that is supposed to make him cheerful and proud. Maybe I projected much, I don’t know? Just because you share a flat with someone it doesn’t mean he’s your friend.

“I didn’t mean to keep this a secret—I swear…” he trails off, and I bite back a laugh, delusion hitting me.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jungkook. I’m not your mom and sure as fuck I’m not your confidant. I’m just your roommate. I’m sure it would have come up, if you had to sexile me because of her. Don’t worry,” I spit out, at once regretting my harshness, “I get it.”

“You don’t, though. You don’t know me,” he begins, following me when I get up.

“I know I don’t!”

“I don’t mean it that way, fuck! Y/N!” - he grabs my wrists, eyes darting into mine – “We’re… we’re just in a bad place right now. We needed a pause, I begged for it, but she didn’t want to, so I’m—uhm, choosing not to deal with her at the moment. We’re going through a lot,” he says, pondering his words, thumbs moving on my hands. I freeze at the contact.

“Yoongi doesn’t know. Because she’s mad at me for something that happened a long time ago when we weren’t together. And, fuck, I don’t want Yoongi to think about that time. I don’t want to think about that time. I didn’t think she’d pester him, shit”

The high-pitched laughter he lets out almost frightens me. Jungkook’s fidgeting look pushes me to intertwine our hands. I don’t have time for disbelief towards my own gesture—his former, floating discomfort strays gradually from his body as I do so.

I keep the eye contact with his doe eyes—it happens then. His breathing comes back to normal, his fingers grasp firmly mine. I’m here, I want to say.

I only manage a quiet: “It’s okay. It’s okay, Jungkook” that has him nodding, sure.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” he announces.

“Sure,” I breath out, “Listen. I know I’m not probably the person you’d want to have this conversation with… but if you don’t feel like bothering Yoongi – which you’re not. Unless you call him in the middle of the night – you can always talk to me. Count on me.”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his noise.

“Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“Of course not, you giant baby.”

He chuckles. “Alright. Wait for me?”

“I’m ready when you are.”

***

“Is there a way to turn sad stories into happy ones?”

My hands fall around the mug. “Have you always been this dramatic or did Yugyeom punch you so hard you’re not well functioning?”

He bites back a laugh. “We both know I’d need a stronger hook to lose consciousness, c’mon.”

“I don’t know,” I play pretend, “The other day Jin barely slapped you and you looked like you wanted to cry.”

“Hey!” his hot cocoa is long forgotten, “I’ll have you know he’s older than me—”

“Oh, so now age matters?”

“—and has been playing kick-boxing for a lot longer than I have. Obviously, he knows what he’s doing!”

“It was just a friendly slap!”

He scoffs, still smiling.

“You know, when Yoongi called he asked me if I knew about Mina and I answered, ‘what the fuck is a Mina?’ which, in hindsight, it’s not a very kind thing to ask.”

Jungkook bursts into a quiet laugh, back against the wall. Maybe being on the carpet isn’t a suiting position to have a talk—about serious matters, too. But Jungkook’s comfortable, and as long as he is, I really don’t care.

It was weird seeing him, even if just for a fraction of a second, losing control.

Maybe he needs a friend more than he knows.

“I met Mina a long time ago. Sophomore year, maybe? I had been dating Sowon for two years then—Sowon and I met in high school, she was my first girlfriend. A bit older than me. When I got into college, we started fighting for the most meaningless things, though. For the last months, ours was an on and off relationship. We broke up and made up all the time; it was actually a relief when we broke up for good. That somehow changed me. I dreaded for anything but a relationship. Jin-hyung likes to say that I turned up to be a handsome fuckboy,” he laughs, staring into the mug, “Yoongi-hyung says it was terrible having me around. I was always off to parties and spent most of my nights in girls’ sororities. I’m not exactly proud of that period. Sowon had disappeared from life by then. I only saw her once again, when she found out I had been sleeping around. I don’t know, she got mad. Really mad. Tried to fuck Yoongi-hyung to get back at me.”

“That’s…” Jungkook looks at me, lips parted.  I find out I don’t have it in me to continue my sentence.

“Not ideal, huh?”

“Far from ideal.”

“The hyungs helped a lot, back then. Mina, too. She was one of the girls I had been hooking up with. I can’t say what exactly changed in our relationship, or what she did to make me realize I didn’t want to be careless anymore. One day I started looking at her differently and…” he shrugs, “The rest is history.”

“Damn, and I thought for a solid second that my relationships of five months were a huge fucking goal.” He snickers. “How long have you two been together, then?”

“Two years? No, wait. Almost two years and a half. But lately she’s been hinting that she wants more. Her parents got married very young, and so did her sister. I think she kind of expected me to pop the question, half a year ago. But I haven’t. Which made her think I was cheating on her. Which I’m not. She thinks I’m twenty years old Jungkook all over again. Which, for the third time, I’m not.” He huffs. “I don’t know how to make her understand that we’re young and there’s so much we could be doing rather than worrying about getting married. Christ, I’m twenty-two. I’m barely studying for my master’s degree. She thinks I don’t love her, and it makes me so fucking mad. I begged for a pause. We need some time apart.”

“But you said she refused. Hence why you’re avoiding her.”

“Yeah.” He finishes his hot cocoa off. “Do you think I’m insane for wanting to distance myself for a while?”

“No, I don’t. It may sound cliché, but people who love each other don’t always see eye to eye. They change. Long term relationships require many compromises, and sometimes it’s hard to do that.” I throw my head back against the wall. Jungkook follows my movements with his gaze. “Sometimes you fall out of love, too. Things… happen. People change. There isn’t always a valid reason why. I think that recognizing change is brave. Forcing things to never shift it’s dangerous.”

A peaceful silence falls between our bodies. I can’t help but realize it’s very late. I sneak a look at Jungkook, who’s looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed. I’m glad he decided to trust me.

“You know, for being so short you’ve got an insane amount of wisdom inside of you.”

“Fuck off, Jeon”

He deserves every pillow I’ve thrown him.

 EXHIBIT C

 “And you expect me to say he’s not a jerk?”

“Well,” Lisa breathes out, downhearted. “I don’t think he knows the very meaning of kindness.”

As an ungainly rustle of papers fills my ears, she exhales, turning to Yuna, a scorn adorning her face.

“Look, have you seen the guy? He’s got a promotion and boom!, there he goes thinking he’s better than all of us combined. Don’t let him get to you, girl. He probably thinks that a discussion on the oxford comma is first date material. Fuck,” she then smiles, a curve void of sympathy, “The guy probably thinks he’s too good for a date. Do you recall the last time he looked as if he fucked someone’s brain out?” Yuna doesn’t answer, instead she opts for smoothing her shirt and Lisa smirks, proud. “My point exactly. He’s a poor jerk. Leave him be.”

It’s not considered eavesdropping if they’re sniping about Namjoon out in the open, right? I’m thrown aback for a solid minute, because, yes, Namjoon is a lot, a deeply wholesome and complex guy to have as your boss, but he’s not that bad. Sure, he has his moments – like any of us has – yet he’s attentive, caring, a tall mentor I’m delighted to have around.

Not to mention the fact that he’s attractive. It’s undeniable. He’s charming because he extrudes confidence when he arguments whilst gesticulating, when he talks back and smiles sharply, when his ideas are picked because original, fresh, on the spot.  He trusts and gives, in a manner that can swipe anyone off their feet when adorned with his dimples.

Namjoon’s an attractive man, period.

I frown.

I plop on my chair, coffee in my mug.

Oh my God. Namjoon’s attractive. He’s hot. He’s smart. He’s sarcastic. His humour amazes me first thing in the morning when he hasn’t had his shots of coffee yet and has to talk to people.

Stop, Y/N. Okay, so what? He can be nice to have around. I’m at loss of words – thoughts – when a picture of Namjoon wearing slacks and a white shirt pops in my mind. White shirts fit him so well it’s unreal. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice startles me and, as my eyes widen, I turn towards the person in question, “Mind helping me with these?”

Namjoon – fit Namjoon, Kim I’m-wearing-beautiful-glasses Namjoon - points to papers a now hidden part of me I know she recognizes, and I find myself nodding like an idiot before I can even think of an eligible answer.

Think of unattractive people. People you’re not attracted to. People you would mind undressing you. Touching you. Hugging you. Think of…Jungkook.

Jungkook isn’t… my type. He’s warm, he’s soft with his bunny smile and happy eyes. He wears dark t-shirts on a daily basis. He snorts when his students write absurdities others would cry for. He once tried to inhale six packs of ramen just because Taehyung dared him to. I mentally chuckle at the memory. Think of Jungkook, I repeat to myself.  The same Jungkook that swears when playing Overwatch. The same Jungkook that pouts when he studies and frowns as he focuses so hard.

Jungkook would never slam his partner against the door, hands in their hair. He’d never command them to go down on their knees before him. He’s only been in long term relationships. The guy’s probably not even a fan of PDA.

Jungkook is soft around the edges, and shy and cute and definitely someone I’m not attracted to.

“Sure,” I breathe out, a smile tugging at my lips, “Let me see.”

 “So,” Jimin begins in a quiet whisper that has me wondering why he can’t speak out loud, “You want to bone your boss.”

I mentally scold the office policy and its daunting, cryptic suggestion to keep a semi-formal appearance. Which translates into high heels. I have to wear high heels. They would be heels – just heels, comfortable, classy, lovely heels – if only there wasn’t what Jungkook defines as height discrepancy. Which translates into I’m short. And it’s 2019. So short people are expected to be tall, in certain circumstances. Like office attire. Even though, to be honest, it’s also my fault. My fault for being so enamoured with the classy and charming – when I told him, Jungkook sneered so hard I thought he was seconds from combusting – clacking heels make on smooth floors.  

“That’s—” absurd, I want to say, but I settle with a mellow “—right.”

He’s not wrong. I am in the wrong, though. I open the front door of our apartment building, almost soulless.

“You can’t have feelings for your boss,” Jimin sighs, and I hear in the distance a vague shuffling of clothes. “You can’t be sexually attracted to your boss, either.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” I greet our neighbours with a nod — actually, neighbour. The landlord, who is now heading out — and, as soon as she leaves, I groan loudly. With cattiness, I push the elevator button, my forehead pressed onto the wall next to it.  

“We have to do something about it. This is not happening. And this clearly refers to you drooling over someone you can’t possibly have, for perfectly good reasons.”

“We?” I ask meekly, opening our place’s door. Jungkook’s not home yet, he’s got a late afternoon class that usually drains all his energies, which only means get in the shower before Jungkook does. Ergo, translation sponsored by the creator of the roommate language, thank you very much, the roommate who had to shower multiple times with cold, freezing water, in order to avoid such fucking loathsome situation, should enjoy her roommate’s absence. Especially since he wants all the hot water in the world for himself for the following half hour. Jungkook is caring just like that, yes. I am the luckiest gal in the world.

“Well, it’s not like we can handle you being all gross when talking about this guy’s dimples while sexually frustrated because, and I quote, he’s so fucking attractive.”

“I-I never said I was sexually frustrated, though?”

“Really,” he deadpans, “You did not. So, we didn’t go through a detailed erotic novel based on how you’d call him daddy despite you not wetting yourself at the thought of calling someone your daddy—or how you’d drop on your knees—”

“I think that’s enough, Chim.”

“Yeah,” he groans, “me fucking too.”

I ponder whether asking him what’s bothering him, because there’s clearly something I can’t quite picture troubling one of my best friends. Jimin is altogether the perfect comrade one needs in their life (he’s cool, he gives great advice, he listens, he’s always giving, which applies to a wide range of things, spacing from his shoulder to more practical, capitalistic things you didn’t even know you’d need) and the worst interlocutor one could ever have (he despises talking about his feelings, his thoughts, and never shares unless something huge happens). Jimin’s a solid seven, based on the results of the Kim Social Test. Tae had nodded his head, gravely, then wrote something on the papers he had been holding the whole time he questioned his soulmate.

How I wish I knew how to properly read people like Tae does. Jimin and I once planned to get him tipsy enough to sneak into his chaotic room for plenty of time, so that we’d discover the secret papers – the KST secret papers. Needless to say, we still know shit regarding Kim Taehyung’s enigmas. One day, Chim. One day we’ll discover all of the answers Taehyung hasn’t shared about the infamous twenty-seven steps test.

The moment I take off my shoes, though, something moving in my periphery catches my attention. Something white moving. Proper phrasing, Y/N. Namjoon expects better from you.

Someone… in white… moving?

Ten points to Gryffindor.

Wait.

It’s Jungkook.

My roommate. My shy roommate. Wet. Wearing just a white towel around his waist. Can people actually have a waist this tiny? And since when Jungkook has abs? What the fuck?

“’Min, I’ll call you back.”

“Oh,” Jungkook has seen me, moved in my direction and I shoot my gaze directly on his face. Not an inch below. Nope. I won’t stare at him. (Sure, the guy goes to the gym. The guy has muscles. But abs? Shit.) “When did you come back? I didn’t hear you coming in.”

Jungkook is handsome.

“Seconds ago. Really.”

He looks at me with a lopsided grin, hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. If he notices that my posture is somewhat frozen and my gaze won’t, incidentally, meet nothing but his, he doesn’t say anything, and I’m immensely grateful for that.

It just—struck me in a funny way, I guess. Not everyday you expect your almost naked roommate to greet you like this, coming back home. Nuh-uh. Especially not a roommate you didn’t realise had abs, thank you very much.

“When did you—uhm, when did you come back, though?”

“As soon as I heard my class was cancelled. I’ve been working on those fucking essays ever since, goddamnit. I needed a break, so I hit the shower enjoying your absence very much.” He shoots me a sardonic smile and, for a second, I’m tempted to hit him. But I don’t. He’s fucking naked. His skin is glistening because he’s still wet. He’s… he’s basically a whole adult now, and he still hasn’t learned how to properly use a towel.

Fucking fuck.

He’s wetting the kitchen floor.

Oh my god, get a grip, Y/N.

Eyes up.

“You were right, by the way,” he furrows his eyebrows, adjusting his towel with a hand and opening the fridge with the other, “I had to write them a long time ago. Procrastinating is fucking me up.”

I suppress my next thought as soon as it’s formed and carved into my brain. My heart is burning at how quickly this conversation could take a turn for the worst, so I spur, without thinking, “You’re fucking me up.”

Also known as the very, exact thought that my brain didn’t manage to stifle.  Which could mean a lot of things, really! Out of context, yes, it could seem like I meant that in a… sexual way? But in reality—of fucking course not! Have you seen me? Have you seen Jungkook?

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise so much I’m afraid they faded into his hairline. Flush creeps into my face, so I hasten to add: “I’m supposed to take a shower first, you know. I deserve the hot water too. This means you only won this round.”

He grips the fridge door tighter, takes his time licking his lips and—I stop following his movements when he chuckles, his laugh almost lost in the awkward silence I brought myself upon.

“Yeah, war’s still on, shortie.”

I gasp, a loud sound that has him vibrating against the fridge. I’m seconds away from touching his back and get a hold of his attention but I refrain from doing so because—because he’s showing so much skin, smooth skin that would feel like silk under the touch. I can only imagine how my thumbs’ pads would feel, running against his bare body.

Get a grip, Y/N.

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mhm?” – he blinks, playing pretend – “What did I say?”

I hastily grab his banana milk from his hands, shoving it away from him and barely above my head.

“Come again, you coward.”

He now faces me, the tip of his tongue wetting his upper lip.

I fucked up, I realize, eyes widening.

I probably have three seconds to surrender before he’ll say or do something that will worsen the situation. The situation being his presence – his mostly naked presence – hurting me and making me flutter and thinking things and…

“You do have a chance of winning the shower game, baby…”

I’m fucked.

“But you lost this battle a long time ago.” his velvet voice whispers as his eyes dart into mine, falling into the darkness of my pupils.  

Jungkook grabs the banana milk bottle, his fingers brushing mine and burning me while I can only stare back, mouth agape. He spares a look at his hand making contact with mine, but it’s gone as soon as it begins, because he’s back to staring into my soul and past lives and future ones.

I’m fucked, period.

I gulp when his phone starts ringing and that catches his whole attention.

More so, I feel like I can breathe again.

Jungkook blinks a couple times, his doe eyes darting to where he placed his phone last and, in that moment, I realize that Jimin is right: we have to do something about it.

We need to do something about it as soon as possible.

 EXHIBIT D(enial)

Step twelve: what kind of relationship have you established with your person in question? Let yourself find out.

Jimin shakes his purple head from side to side, his thumb stuck in mid air as he stops scrolling down his phone.

“I just don’t understand,” he frowns, smacking his lips, “What am I supposed to tell you? You declined all my plans.”

If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was whining, the sound loud and deafening, able to soften his features and make him look a lot younger and innocent.

“I know,” it’s my turn to whine and show despair, I now get to crumble under Jimin’s scrutiny. “But I don’t want to date. I don’t want to put myself under all that stress—constant anxiety, fear of not knowing what the other is thinking, undeniable concern because our schedules wouldn’t match… and,” I add, allowing myself to breathe, “I want it to happen casually. I don’t want to force a relationship. The last time I did this it turned out to be a complete failure.”

Jimin sighs, blocking his phone and throwing it away on the couch. Taehyung and Jimin’s flat is suffocating. Hence why we avoid hanging out together at their place—one could say it’s nice, it gives off a cosy vibe and, yeah, in a way I agree. But having to shove Tae’s clothes in order to enter home, cramming into a small place both the kitchen and living room and debating whether the tiny veranda can be considered a new room is too much. (And frankly, concerning. Once, Jimin went outside to fetch underwear. Yeah, underwear.) I’d rather live anywhere but here.

My mind likes to be a bitch, because in a hot second I’m picturing Jungkook doing the most domestic and unfathomable things, like… like, laundry. I see him crouching on his knees, an attentive look offered to his dark clothes only, forehead showing, and tiredness written all over his face. He always smells so good after taking care of his clothes, the detergent’s distinctive smell sticking to his skin for longer than necessary.

“And I don’t want hook-ups. Especially not with people of your choice.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll admit that Tae and I have tried one too many times to match you with… not good fits.”

“Not good fits is a fucking euphemism, Park.”

He snorts, a hand in his hair. “Sorry, sorry. I know. Still, that leaves us…” he pretends to look at a paper in his hands, expression contorted into a delusional one. “Masturbation. Rub one off in the good, old way. Should be fine for a week or two.”

Doctor Park earns a swift prod of my elbow against his thigh, and I’m rewarded with his high-pitched laugh.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, that hurt.”

“This whole conversation hurts, Jimin.” – I sigh, slouching on the couch – “I can’t believe I’m letting you help with this… problem.”

“My dear dramatic friend,” he starts, propping an elbow on a cushion, “you’re just horny. Frustrated. And I don’t know how to help you.”

“That reminds me, you useless purple-haired good-looking friend—”

“…That’s not an insult?”

“…is everything okay with you? I mean – you live with Taehyung, so clearly something is wrong with you, but I mean emotionally? You’ve been a little off these past few days.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” my smile is inevitable, “Oh.”

Did he really think people wouldn’t notice? Me, of all people, wouldn’t realize something is wrong from his behaviour?

“No, just—same old, I guess.”

“My Jimin translator is currently fucked up so I need you to repeat what you just said in an understandable way, Min.”

Scratch that, my Jimin translator has always had problems. If it had ever worked, I wouldn’t find myself here, knees brought up to my chest, struggling to hear Jimin talking about his feelings.

He passes a hand through his locks. “I’m holding up just fine? Studying, working, hooking up unlike you.”

“Don’t make it about me, jerk. What about the person you were with, when we talked on the phone yesterday?”

“What do you mean, the person I was with?”

The look on my face makes him groan, hands now covering his eyes. “What gave it away?”

“Happy post coital Jimin is very different from frustrated but not sexually Jimin, I’ll have you know.”

“I don’t even want to know, what the fuck.”

“But I do,” I plea, tugging at the end of his shirt, “Tell me what’s wrong, Min.”

The whining tone of my voice has to do the trick, I reckon, because he’s throwing his head back and hastily grabs a cushion to hold—or to suffocate himself with, I can’t tell.

“I’m sort of—getting over someone. It’s harder than I thought.”

Oh, Jimin.

I’m dramatic, okay? Jimin knows, Taehyung laughs because of this and Jungkook finds it amusing, too. Everybody knows. So, I developed several different scenarios – a wide range of possible things Jimin would share (finally) with me, but none of them resemble in the slightest the real thing. And it’s somewhat frightening.

“You don’t have to tell me… I didn’t know you even liked someone in the first place. Really, it’s okay. I thought it was something trivial like trying to survive in this place or a fight with Tae, I don’t know.”

This makes him smile. “No, it’s—it wasn’t an unrequited crush, you know? Only, things happened, and we stopped seeing each other. Turns out it’s difficult to get over him.”

A pause, the tip of his tongue wetting his plump lower lip. “Do we know him? Me and Taehyung, I mean?”

“It’s—complicated. But it’s not a big deal, really.”

“How can you say that? Your feelings are at stake and seeing you hurt haunts me.”

He bites the insides of his mouth, eyes glinting with disbelief. “You really are dumb and dramatic, what the fuck. I’ll get over him, don’t worry.”

He throws a cushion at me, while I stare him, eyes wide and mouth agape because of his reaction, calm and composed. As if it’s really not this big of a deal.

“If you really feel sad, though… buy me a drink. Or two. Or three. Until me suffering stops haunting you.”

The audacity of Park Jimin, ladies and gentlemen.

  [15.38] you: okay min

[15.38] you: you were right. i’m horny

[15.40] jimin: what else is new bb. What did he do this time

[15.41] you: bold of you to assume he did anything in the first place. But no. he didn’t do anything

[15.41] you: Beside getting a terrible haircut. I hate it. I kinda wanna punch namjoon in the face for this, and not in the kinky way

[15.43] jimin: Is there a kinky way to punch someone? Maybe you meant spitting in his mouth? On his dick? I’ll stop with these bc I don’t want you to get worked up over my texts

[15.43] you: shut up

[15.43] you: anyway one of his friends passed by. Red hair. Mouth hearth shaped. Adonis body. 10/10 would bang or kiss or hold his hand

[15.43] you: 15/10 would prefer the banging. Anyway, I don’t have a crush on namjoon, I’m just in need of a good dicking

[15.46] jimin: I’m screenshotting this and sending it to taetae

[15.46] you: blocked and reported

[15.46] jimin: you’re my dick deprived friend and I love you. Taetae says he’s not up for dicking you good because he’s in love with a girl that is about to blow him, sorry don’t be mad I don’t make the rules

[15.48] you: what the fuck did I just read

[15.48] jimin: just say you love me and you’ll go out with us tonight. Let’s partayyyy. I’ll help you find someone to go down on you, trust me

[15.49] you: what the fuck did I just read, the reprise

[15.51] jimin: no ok ok ok. Seriously. Go out with us. Me, tae and guk. We made plans a couple of days ago. Come with us. If you’re not up for a hook up you can just loosen up a bit and have fun with us. I promise

[15.52] jimin: please

[15.54] you: I’m in

***

One thing Jungkook doesn’t notice about me straight away is the feeling of uneasiness and worry that creeps up my face.

Jungkook’s curious, mostly alcohol-hazed, look scurries away before meeting my eyes: he checks me out (I wish I didn’t have to say this—but one has to come to terms with this admission after being looked at with dark, hooded eyes for a good five minutes), tilts his head in what I assume it’s his flirting expression, comments on the dark, sometimes transparent dress Taehyung bought me online and clicks his tongue in a mocking way, when said Taehyung hits him with a can of cheap beer and a couple of dirty jokes.

I would like to wrap Taehyung like a burrito with a warm, inviting plaid instead of having him dragging us all in a packed bar, for the simple and yet abhorrent (to him, of course) reason that he’s shit at pregaming. To be completely honest, he’s shit at drinking. Can’t hold his liquor if his life depended on it. Jimin blocks his phone and groans loudly, then proceeds in wrapping his arm around Tae’s waist and escorting him outside our apartment, murmuring a regretful “I’m doing this because I need it, you shithead. Don’t make me regret I came with you.”

I chuckle, amused by the two.

It’s only seconds later that my wrist is playfully grabbed by one clearly upset Jungkook. He blinks, twice, before wetting his chapped lips. I shoot him a questioning look that I hope doesn’t feel like I’m in need to get away from him because I’m being weirded out by his behaviour.

“I didn’t know you were coming with us.” he says, even though it sounds like a realization he wrongly pronounced out loud.

“Am I gonna be a problem for you?”

His doe eyes widen at that, but he’s quick to reassure, voice steadier: “Of course not.” He furrows his eyebrows, “I just meant…” A shrug. “I thought you didn’t do this.”

“What? Hanging out with my friends?”

He’s smiling an empty smile how, lips twisting into a crude exhibit of disorientation, like he doesn’t know how to answer that.

“Right.” He nods, stopping holding my wrist. “A friends’ night out.”

He steals a glance at me, short, devoid of emotion, before grabbing his jacket and following Jimin and Tae.

‘Right?’ I’m not—I’m not interrupting a guys’ night. I am not imposing. I can be pedant and dramatic and clingy to Jimin when drunk (remember the Incident with the former roommates of mine? Or better—don’t. I don’t wanna reminisce those moments. Just acknowledge that Drunk Me can turn into a cuddly, clingy friend) but I’m sure as fuck not imposing. God. I’m not.

As I play with the short cuticles on my middle finger, I gnaw at the inside of my mouth.

It’s funny how I am the one wondering ‘Right?; it’s in moments like this that I want nothing but to shove Jungkook against a plain, stone cold surface and ask him to talk to me. This crumbling show resembles so much the Mina Thing that I am feeling uncomfortable even asking. I thought that having a roommate meant gaining a friend; now I say: maybe. It depends. I guess that sharing a house with someone means you’re bound to come into contact with this other person, and there are times when this connection turns into something deeper, like friendship. Still, it’s not the usual friendship path, so you have to be careful and make sacrifices along the way. Right now, the sacrifice I’m making is taming my – how did Jimin call it, once? Mom-friend attitude?

Tone it down, Y/N.

Especially since I know I am not nurturing the boys into spending time with me and showering me with attention.

I sigh.

The question that fails to be answered is only one…

What’s gotten into Jungkook?

***

“Plan for the night,” Taehyung smirks, hands in his now longer hair, “I’m getting wasted.”

“Very mature,” Jimin snorts.

“You’d be too, if the fuck of your life didn’t call you back.”

“Oh my god,” I groan, “It happened a long time ago. I remember I was still wondering whether asking your roommate to wash up was decent human being behaviour or not.”

“Or not.” Tae blinks, hands in his pockets, “You once told me, too. You were rude.”

“You threw up on me!” Jungkook chuckles. “Besides, it was freshmen’s week.”

Jimin nods. “Banging on freshmen’s week doesn’t count.”

“Especially if that’s a grad student sorry excuse to get wasted.”

“She is a hot grad student, thank you very much.” – Taehyung moves into the crowd stalled at the entrance and points towards the bar – “You’re gonna find me right there until the love of my life comes back.”

“She won’t—”

“Don’t ruin it, shortie.”

The audacity. “Have you ever considered that, perhaps, you weren’t the fuck of her life, instead?”

“Way to hound me, woman.”

Jimin shakes his head and pushes his soulmate out of the way. “Grab me a drink while you’re there.”

“Make it three!” my voice follows him, now definitely swallowed by the crowd.

The place is packed. Tae mentioned the location being renewed over the past week, but I hadn’t given him much thought. (I still remember the ruin pub tour in Budapest, for god’s sake. A tip for the future: never let Taehyung plan your holidays. No matter how much promising his ideas look) and I must admit that I like the new touch.

My gazing the surroundings is hastily interrupted by a now awaiting Jeon Jungkook: he looks at me with an arching eyebrow, his lower lip enveloping his upper one.

“What?”

“Again, what do you want?”

Knowing who pissed in your Cheerios?

“I,” I shrug, “What do you mean?”

“Grab her a Long Island, Guk,” Jimin’s voice cuts in between our bodies, “I take whatever Tae’s having.”

Right. The drink. Of course.

Jungkook disappears before stealing a glance at the both of us, a je ne sais quoi of unsaid still clear between us.

“I hate to ask. You know I do.” Jimin’s fingertips brush against the leather of my jacket. “But… is something off? Between you two?”

The soft indie music that welcomed us when we got in slowly turns into a more upbeat, loud mix of sounds and I spot in Min’s eyes the need to go dancing. I instantly remember that this night it’s for him as much as it is for me.

“No, Min.” I shake my head along to my words, a quick smile on my lips. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Better not, shortie.”

Dancing is a harder activity to excel at, especially when you’re not Jimin nor you haven’t got Taehyung’s confidence, somehow perfectly balanced by his carelessness – he doesn’t give a fuck about judgements and stares and what-not, and this freedom only fuels him. I find myself juggling between being either of them or, well, striving to channel either of them into my limbs and inner self.

It’s all about matter of attitude, in the end.

This matter of personality traits you-can’t-quite-inherit-unless-you’re-the-soulmates-themselves corners me in a delightful position: I’m very close to dancing without restraints in the middle of this place, still placing a decent amount of attention on the music itself and the crowd that has managed to swallow me whole in the past half hour.

I’m exhausted.

Don’t get me wrong—it’s insanely freely to disinhibit myself and let go, every once in a while, but I feel as if there are matters yet to be discussed that stop me from giving one hundred percent myself out on the dancefloor, as Jimin called it.

These disturbing matters present themselves right on my side in the form of one very attentive yet not-so-sober Jeon Jungkook, when I shake my head and decide to buy myself another drink.

His bouncy, fluffy hair is sticking in every unfathomable direction when his gaze crosses mine, and I don’t further inquire his state, despite my expression probably giving my thoughts away. He cocks his head, licking his lips.

“What’s up?”

That definitely sounded like a staggered what’s wrong? Where did I fuck up?

I cross my arms and place them on the mahogany counter, shrugging my shoulders.

“This place is starting to stink.”

“Well,” he mulls, a finger in his freshly formed curls. “I hope you weren’t expecting flowers and, fuck, I don’t know? Soap? Ginger ale?”

“Damn, there you go crashing my hopes and dreams.”

“Jeon Jungkook, professional heartbreaker at your service.”

I scrunch my nose. “Be more creative, c’mon.”

“International playboy?”

“I was thinking more of laundry fairy, though? Or black clothes enthusiast?”

He stares at me with an uncanny expression, blinking twice. He then shakes his head, the tip of his tongue poking out, his hands moving with emphasis in a c’mere, I just wanna talk gesture.

“You take it back,” he says, unable to hold back a laugh, “Take it back now.”

“You’re a fucking menace, is what you are.”

Jungkook chuckles while placing his elbow on my shoulders, enhancing his tall person privileges. “It’s still early, you know,” he mutters after a while, waiting for me to order before talking.

“For what?”

“Jimin said he promised to get you a hook-up,” he explains, eyes on the people still dancing in front of us. His voice is softer when he speaks next, and I find myself unable to look away from his profile even though he’s not even glancing in my direction. “It’s still early, you have all the time in the world.”

Oh.

Funnily enough, I had almost given up on the quest. I just assumed Jimin and I were living knowing the second part of our deal was taking place right around us, ergo us just having fun. Brushing aside the stress of the past few days.

Jungkook thinks I’m here to get laid? For fuck’s sake. My face heats up at just the thought.

“I’m not that desperate, Guk.”

“I know this.” He takes a strand of my hair between his calloused fingers. “I’m just saying… there’s nothing stopping you.”

“Stopping me?”

He’s so close his laugh resonates against my side, his little smile not disappearing from his lips.

“Fishing for compliments, huh?”

He chooses the moment I frown not so delicately to turn around and look at me. “Am not.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he sighs, turning me around and placing an arm around my shoulders. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Oh.

How to survive from getting compliments by the one and only Jeon Jungkook, an autobiography by yours truly.

I can vaguely feel my fingers trembling.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” I retort, putting up the bravest smile I could muster up. “Try again.”

He hums, closing dangerously the distance between our bodies. I am flushed. Tingling. Burning. His breath is nudging my ear, his fingers playfully tapping my shoulder.

“Let me rephrase this, then,” a pause, “You could get anyone here.”

I follow his stare into the crowd, a bubbly, commercial song now playing. His deep, soft voice continues, “Literally anyone. From that guy on our left that has been staring at you for the past half hour to the girl on your right with the black straw in her mouth.”

As my eyes catch a glimpse of the people he’s mentioned, a vivid, powerful weight drops in my stomach. I swallow, frowning slightly. I just. I just don’t want them. I don’t want random people. I don’t want casual anymore. I’m throwing myself toward a better goal, a blazing direction, an ardent feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something that resembles a stable relationship. Domesticity. Tenderness. Urgency. Passion. The whole package, I can practically hear Jimin shouting. I want…

My mind must love playing tricks on me, because suddenly I’m surrounded by muffled sounds and I can only think: Jungkook. This one right here. This warm body next to mine. This kind soul.

The bubble bursts as rapidly as it had grown around me in the first place.

This Jungkook with a girlfriend. This taken man. This body that is used to warm up another girl’s sheets.

I fight the instinct to cry.

“Not interested in anyone, sorry.”

Jungkook’s tone is crushed when he speaks next, but I don’t care. I don’t even want to know why. It doesn’t even matter. I don’t want to think about it.

“Right.”

I grab the freezing drink with one hand, the other in my hair.

The cold feeling against my skin sends a shiver down my spine and I can’t help but feel as if that’s the only ending I’m getting. The only road I’m supposed to enter—the average one, the ordinary, already paved, already walked on by thousands before me.

The only time I’m thinking seriously about someone it’s—it’s about a taken one. Well played, Y/N. Good fucking job.

“See you at home?”

It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but who cares, right? I’m leaving Jungkook’s periphery before he can even form a decent answer.

Turns out I can channel one of the soulmates, in the end. It’s Jimin. It’s what the purple haired friend always does when his feelings are at stake. When he puts his defences up and plays around like me and Tae can’t fucking see he’s hurt.

I’m making sure feelings can’t get to me.

***

“Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi’s alarmed tone is the only clear sound I can properly hear. I giggle uncontrollably, hand covering my mouth.

“Ooops. Wrong number.”

My back slides against the wall, and I sigh as I sit down on the bathroom floor.

I don’t know what prompted me hiding in here.

I don’t—I didn’t think this through. Properly. I’ve never aced hide and seek, as a kid.

“Don’t worry… are you—are you alright?”

I gulp. “Yep. Yup. Positive, sir.” Now I’m hiccupping like someone who can’t hold his liquor. Someone I’m not. Taehyung in his purest form.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice reverberates in my ear, “Have you been drinking?”

God. Why on earth am I on the phone with him?

“I don’t know, you’re the one who called me.” I said that out loud? Oh, shit. I burst into a fit of giggles, once again. This is so embarrassing. “Are you alone? Is Jungkook with you?”

“No, god. No.”

“Is Jimin with you, then?”

“Dunno. Might be outside the women’s bathroom. Might not.”

Have been here for the past twenty minutes, looking far worse than I sound, of course I don’t know. The freezing tiles melt me and my first instinct – my primal reaction to this unexpected, rude cold is staring at the ceiling. Not batting an eye. Throwing my head back on the wall, hoping the goose bumps will fade in seconds. Hoping the childish, irrational tears won’t wet my cheeks.

I hate this state of raw, sick vulnerability. I hate knowing it doesn’t go away with a snap of fingers, with the silent, hushed promise to myself that I’ll do better next time, I’ll take care of myself in such a good way this will only feel like a bad dream. A short-lived nightmare.

“Can you reach him? Please?”

It’s a sequence of blurs, then – getting on my feet, meeting Jimin’s worried eyes, brushing away Taehyung’s confused, warm hand. Jimin nodding, grabbing his jacket, scanning quickly the room. The buzz dissipates around me, numbing me to the point that I don’t recall going home, in the end. Neither Jimin’s precious care nor the quiet sobs that don’t stop.

Nothing but an unexpected text, bright and deadly, blurred with tears for me and myself only.

[01.26] jungkook: staying at mina’s tonight.

 EXHIBIT E

Step fifteen: when in doubt, ask for a rematch. Challenge your opponent. Scoot closer. Drop the formalities. Let that stake be higher.

I’ve been through worse.

I’ve literally shoved my fingers down Jimin’s throat so he could throw up. I’ve studied the wrong assignment more than once. Once, I only ate birthday cakes for a week. Emphasis on cakes.

Harbouring silly, illogical crushes for someone doesn’t even make the top ten list. When you’ve known Taehyung and Jimin for longer than five years, you know it doesn’t even make the top twenty stupid things you regret doing in your life chart.  

That’s why it doesn’t matter—okay, Jungkook looks good wearing black. Passing his hand through his messy locks, therefore showing his forehead. Making eye contact when he talks (that has lately turned into a reason why I’ve been blushing more around him, for Christ’s sake).

So what? It happens. It happens when people are cute. And smart. And funny.

“Morning,” Jungkook mumbles, voice drowsy and thick with sleep.

I’m thrown away by his appearance, which can only confirm the fact that he didn’t spend the night here, at home, his bedroom next to mine. He’s slouched on the couch, eyes still closed, his thick eyelashes catching my attention.

I try not to focus on the feeling in my belly, a weight in the pit of my stomach that dropped when I got his text last night and hasn’t disappeared ever since. He’s got a girlfriend and I have no right whatsoever to feel saddened by this crucial statement. Honestly, a part of me feels guilty because it’s nothing I didn’t know before yesterday. Does it make me mad, knowing that his girlfriend has been away from him for so long? That, while he pushed her away because he needed space, feelings for him started spurring in my stomach and mind and every limb of mine? Yes. Yes, ten thousand times yes. But—what can I do about them? I’m so used to dealing with feelings on my own – how many crushes did I suppress because my feelings were unrequited? I lost count – that it shouldn’t even surprise me. Yet here I am, yet here my last shred of hope flees away. I’m delusional. I’d laugh, out loud, dry, not at all sympathetic if only Jungkook wasn’t here.

As I bit the insides of my mouth, I can only hum in response, not gathering the strength to form a proper greeting.

“Tired?”, Jungkook asks as he starts playing with the rings on his fingers. I turn around, facing the kitchen counter and the mug I’ve just grabbed.

Tired doesn’t even begin describing what the fuck I’m feeling.

“Yeah.”

It’s all I can muster up.

“Mhm.”

I can hear a vague shuffling of clothes – he must be standing up, stretching his limbs, suppressing a groan. Only a glance. I spare only a glance at his tired figure that disappears from my periphery.

That’s how Jungkook retreats in his room.

I never hated Saturday mornings as much as I do now.

***

Maybe that was an idiotic hyperbole. Because, my internal voice almost stutters, this is what sucks. This is what I hate: a whole week (a whole ten days) without Jungkook. Scratch that. A whole ten days with Jungkook in it and my usual Jungkook missing from my life altogether.

He scraps his neck, doesn’t meet my eyes, doesn’t stay in the same room as me anymore. Which is understandable. I’m a rational human being, not at all baffled by emotions of any kind, of course, so I get it. An inclination of sorts erupted between us during that night out and it unequivocally brought to surface my limits (read: my feelings) and his desire to stray as further as possible away from me. I get that. I would have flirted with him and said things to him if the girlfriend package didn’t cross my mind. I have feelings and a deep, vivid imagination to support said to-be-neglected feelings and Jungkook must have sensed that. Must have had an epiphany somewhere in between this horrific, awkward week without me.

Makes sense! It’s alright! I can manage without him.

It’s the only right turn of things, after all.

As I hold the key in my hand and open the apartment’s door with a sigh, the stillness of the living room hits me at once. I don’t know whether blaming the shredded, dying light of the day breezing past the sunblinds or the overbearing tidiness of the stuff in the room. Just a glance towards the awfully tidy space, crammed with magazines precisely positioned on the coffee table, the couch, unused for days, taking up too much space, and the TV turned off since the beginning of the week… makes my stomach drop.

I’m suddenly burned out, feeling the weight of a never-ending week of work and innumerable talks with my mind crashing on me and trapping my chest. I let out a drawn out, exhausted breath, feeling for the first time in a long time like a guest just waiting to go back home.

A black mop of hair distracts me from this dying scenery, and I meet for the first time in too many days Jungkook’s big, doe eyes.

“Hi,” he puffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hungry?”

He’s standing with his fingers interlaced and a white tee too big for his figure that’s swallowing him fully. I can’t help but steal a glance at his bouncy, almost curly hair that look so, so incredibly soft at the touch.

“No,” I shake my head, voice low, already taking a step forward my room. “I’ve got a huge load of paperwork to do before tomorrow.”

He nods, and my heart breaks just a little because having dinner together was a thing I got used to too fast for my liking. There was something about his jokes and disparate comments on whatever show we were binging. Or about the soft chuckles he let out, the way he relaxed against the couch and, when it became too late, made sure to wake me up with that husky voice of his when I fell asleep on my end of the couch.

Upper lip between my tooth, I decide against standing like a fool in front of him when he made it extremely clear, in the past ten days, that doesn’t really want me around. Which is—hurting me, but I guess there are things I can’t control in life. One of them being his friend, right now.

As I retreat in my room, I feel so terribly stupid, without any doubt crushing once again on the wrong person.

***

Thursday morning finds me padding softly through my room, reaching the kitchen with my eyes half closed and hair purposely sticking in multiple directions to make me look like a mess in front of my roommate, because, of course. Jungkook’s in the kitchen.

It feels like a nightmare. One where I’m supposed to bump into Jungkook in the worst of times, looking desperate while he’s the very definition of boyfriend material. And I’m internally screaming. And dying, of fucking course.

He’s on the phone, humming at his interlocutor while tracing patterns on his thigh, his little dimple on full display.

“Hyung, no—”

He groans, and I can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene, his dark locks in his eyes. “I don’t know if… I mean, I hope we can make it…”

Jungkook turns fully around and faces me, his mouth agape and eyes wide, still able to melt me into a puddle of softness and quick heartbeats. I stare back like a stupid, crushing human being while I flush and he mouths a silent “morning” that steals a smile from me, anyway.

I can practically hear Jimin whispering whipped on repeat in my head and the implication alone makes my heart flutter.

(Maybe so, Park)

He stays like that in front of me, not moving, not even an inch, focusing his morbid eyes into my messy hair and brushing gently the tangles out. I freeze, unable to do something that’s not burning under his caring touch and pretending I’m not about to reveal my deep, inexcusable, unrequited crush to him.

I’m guilty once again—observing for a fraction of a second his lips, soft because of the melon lipbalm he insists on buying and when I look up, his eyes, ablaze, lock on mine and I believe there’s something resembling a flicker in them—a fervent flame shattering its surroundings.

“I’ll call you back, hyung. Yeah, yes, I know.”

As he places his phone down, he rasps, “Yoongi hyung is back. Just… just for a few days, though.” He hesitates, eyes still fixated on my bed head. “He invited me to his friends’ night out. Invited us, I mean. It’s nothing more than him pretending to be annoyed by us and being a good hyung, nonetheless. You know,” he furrows his eyebrows, “He’ll tell us we can’t hold our liquor then will buy us drinks and food. He’s gonna watch us eating like we’ve never had that much food in our lives and smile like an idiot at us bickering. It’s always the same with him. So,” he shrugs, his eyes darting to find mine, a bit insecure, “Are you free tonight?”

I blame the whole boyfriend attire. The softness of his request, the gentleness of his touch, his big eyes, my deep desire to feel a part of his life once again. Just for a night. Like the old times. Like we’d never put these barriers in between us. I want it so bad, even if it’s just for delusional fractions of a single, ordinary day.

“Yeah,” I whisper back, barely nodding, “Yeah, I’m in.”

 EXHIBIT F(ucking finally, kid)

“Okay, so, you’re being paid for doing something you love?” Taehyung look absolutely gobsmacked by the idea that in this alternate universe there’s someone being paid for that exactly. “Hyung, it seems fake. Are you sure you’re being paid? Like, have you actually checked your bank account? Counted the money? Got that bread?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin whispers to himself, grabbing Taehyung’s hand and shoving him back. “You can’t ask people that, Tae.”

The soulmates glance at each-other, and Yoongi exhales a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I did. Had to buy Jin-hyung a Yankee candle as a thanks for the airport ride.” He looks at the eldest now, a frown and a pout adorning his face, “That shit costs a fucking fortune, though.”

“Not my fault my nose is delicate. I’m allergic to most things, you should know by now.”

“Most things?” Jungkook asks, confused. “I only knew of pollen?”

“Cheapness, kid. The acrid smell of an Ikea fruity candle. Yoongi’s crappy softener.”

Yoongi quite literally stabs Seokjin with his icy stare. “When did you smell my softener?”

“It’s lavender,” Jimin nods, solemnly. “It’s not bad.”

Before I can ask wait, how the fuck did you know that?, Yoongi shakes his head and comments on something twenty-one years old Seokjin did, once upon a time, that earns him a pout and a high-pitched reply by the eldest. I’d focus on how close the two – Jimin and Yoongi, of course - are, sitting with their shoulders almost brushing and thighs just inches separated, but I decide against it when I notice the way Yoongi smiles – all gums, all eyes turned into crescents – when Jimin throws his head back and laughs openly, clasping his hands together.

Oh, my mind offers, and I bite back a smile.

When Jungkook had told me about this night out, I didn’t imagine this scenario. This well outlined scenario with the bright cameo of Jimin and Taehyung, also known by anyone but me, thank you very much, as Yoongi’s friends. Or, well – acquaintances. At least on Tae and Yoongi’s part.

I fill my glass with water, eyeing the close two – Yoongi and Jimin – with sharp eyes, enjoying the calm aesthetic of this place, promptly suggested by a very euphoric Seokjin. (“It’s my brother’s restaurant,” he had explained, pride in his eyes, “I’m almost offended to hear you didn’t give it a try yet, but I’ll forgive you because you’ve put up with Jungkook for longer than I expected you to.” He smiled a proud, dad smile, all soft and bright, and before I could ask him to explain what he meant – or tilting questioningly my head, Jungkook had complained, loudly, a whine on his easy pout, “I’m hungry. Can we go in?”)

Turns out that we, yes, can go in, but, to Jungkook’s great dismay, we’re waiting for the last two friends to arrive. Jungkook has gone quiet beside me, his rings-filled fingers tapping a melody only he knows on the edge of table. I eye him for a second – a second that turns into two or three, definitely intrusive, because he snaps out of his hazed state and looks back, orbs all inquiring and able to make me burn under his scrutiny.

“I thought you’d be moping by now,” Seokjin begins, pointing his chin at Jungkook, a hand on the back of his neck. “You know, about…”

“His sorry relationship?”

Seokjin sneers at Yoongi’s remark. “More about that… all of that ended.”

“It ended a long time ago, though.” My roommate replies, while it’s my turn to become quiet and process the words I’m hearing. Does this mean what I think it means?

I swallow.

“Hyung,” Guk says, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “You know it had to be done. Wasn’t fair for either of us. Hasn’t been for god knows how long.”

“Wait,” Taehyung snaps, the bestest of friends, “You broke up?”

“No, wait,” Jimin says, a hand covering Taehyung’s, frozen in mid-air, “You were dating?”

Seokjin snorts, then shakes his head and goes for the first alcohol bottle on the table. Mood. Fucking mood. I’d grab that bottle or snatch it from his hands myself if I weren’t completely in a desperate, freaking out mode. My mind’s running towards ends and assumptions I don’t even want to hear, for my own sake, while my heartbeat is too fast paced for a chill, night out with friends. Friends only.

Oh, god. I wish Jungkook wasn’t smart and quick-witted. I’m so hoping he doesn’t connect the dots. I don’t want him to pick up the pieces and end the whole puzzle, so that he sees beyond the longing gazes and words and touches—or lack thereof and… gets it. Gets that my crush is insurmountable. And that it broadens itself like oil, dense and clear and unavoidable.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook smiles, then shakes his head as if to shrug off his shoulders this whole conversation. “You’re both being rude.”

“Hey, I’m not!” Tae replies curtly, “I just wanted to know if I can finally tell you how idiotic our last conversations have been! You know, all those ‘hyung, I need an advice’, ‘what if she—'”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, so what about the hideous ‘I jerked off to—'’

“For fuck’s sake.”

A napkin has been thrown in Tae’s direction.

“Nice touch” I say, because I’m an idiot that only points out the most useless thing out of this whole thing – fucking hell, this gigantic conversation slash vase of Pandora.

“Glad to know Jungkook’s still a brat,” a loud, chirpy voice to our left says. Remember when I said I didn’t picture the scenario like this? Well, scratch that. It turns out I didn’t picture the scenario at all if I’m being graced with Namjoon and Red hair. Mouth hearth shaped. Adonis body. 10/10 would bang or kiss or hold his hand himself. Oh my god.

What fucked up scenario is this?

What drama am I on?

“What the fuck.” That’s Namjoon’s greeting. I would snarl, but that would ruin my shocked expression. “What the fuck.” He repeats, blinking.

My boss, y’all.

What fine elegance. What charming behaviour. What snarky attitude. You wouldn’t believe that he is an editor, writer wannabe with that cool lexicon of his. His gentle manners, his perfect choice of words.

“Y/N? Why are you here?”

“Wait,” 10/10 would bang or kiss or hold his hand says, pointing fingers and retreating them soon after that, adjusting his shirt’s buttons. “Do we know you?”

“Kind of,” I say, offering a hand to him in greeting. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jungkook’s roommate? Wait—” 10/10 pauses, eyes wide, “Namjoon’s terrible intern?”

“I’m not that terrible, c’mon—”

“—you’re Namjoon?” Jimin almost shrieks, while 10/10, in the same, terrified tone asks: “Namjoon’s terrible intern is Jungkook’s roommate?”

As Jungkook casually throws his arm around my shoulders – most specifically, on the edge of my seat, I think, flushed, crushing, that this is the story of how I meet best friends Namjoon and Hoseok, number one Yoonmin stans, lukewarm coffee enthusiasts, great friends of Jungkook.

(He’d whisper to me, half an hour later, voice husky, “I didn’t know my Namjoon was your Namjoon.”

Then, Jimin would squeal, muttering to himself, “That Namjoon?”, ignoring Yoongi’s curious stare.)

***

Jungkook has broken up with his girlfriend.

Which means that he’s, now, single. Girlfriend-less. No girlfriend package. When I think of him, from now on, I’ll only be picturing a single, tall, package. Handsome, clearly. Good. Warm. All smiling and friendly. Caring.

“Have I seen you somewhere else, though?” Hoseok asks, eyebrow furrowed, while Jungkook stops eating and joins him in a collective scrutiny directed to me. This Jungkook is… just him. No relationships involved. No girlfriend. No love interests. No love interest?

It’s seconds later that I realize I didn’t answer Hoseok’s question, so I shrug my shoulders. “Work, maybe?”

My feeble, yet vivid and convincing hope has to die down. Because… Because what gives me the right to think he’ll want to jump off into another relationship? What makes me think he’ll like me? He’ll want a relationship with me?

Taehyung snaps his fingers right in front of Jimin’s face. “Screenshoot guy? 10/10?”

This is insane. I can’t believe I risked thinking I could make a move. Me, a shy coward. I can’t even fathom into thoughts – into words – the desire to laugh out loud at myself that I feel.

Idiotic. Truly idiotic.

“Yeah, Sherlock,” Jimin says, mocking, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Took you long enough.”

I send him back a tentative smile, that earns Hoseok’s genuine confused expression. Then I sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, not noticing a pair of eyes following my actions. Not until he scoops closer and props his elbow on the edge of my seat, eyes covered with worry.

“You okay?”

It’s in these moments that I find myself wondering– what if I’m just imagining things? Just projecting? Just putting myself in the worst possible, imaginable scenario?

What if there’s more behind Jungkook’s care?

Right in front of me there are his soft lips, stuck in a pout, and I urge myself to lift up my gaze and meet his comforting eyes. “Yeah,” I nod, “Yeah.”

Jungkook’s hand then meets the back of my neck, brushing against it with a gentleness so sudden it almost makes me tear up. “Okay,” he murmurs, voice a tad louder than a hushed whisper.

The burden of my worries, as well as the unbearable weight of my thoughts, flutter away like a wave with his tiny, barely noticeable gesture and I find myself burning with affection for this soft, quiet boy.

***

“You’re drunk”

“I’m hardly drunk. I’ve sobered up,” sounding almost offended, he raises his hands on either side of his head, as if he was proving his innocence, “Would a drunk guy be able to sing a song of your choice without fucking up? Just say the name, I’ll prove it to you.”

(The chill, quiet night around us reminds me once again that right now it’s only the two of us. We said goodbye to the other guys ten minutes ago, each of us going in a different direction – ours is towards Jungkook’s car – and… I can’t help but recall Jimin’s fingers brushing Yoongi’s slender ones, crooked and willing to wrap around the younger ones. My heart. My poor heart is bursting with hope and fondness.)

Jungkook leans closer, eyes fixated on my face, causing heat to colour my cheeks. He doesn’t seem fazed by my lack of answer. My gaze moves from his exposed collarbones up to his doe eyes, eventually meeting his comforting but never questioning stare. He’s here, quiet, his presence never imposing, yet dominant.

He comes impossibly closer, chest brushing mine, a tentative hand gently caressing my jaw. I suck in a breath. His presence is numbing; the mere tracing patterns on the juncture between my face and neck is—is overwhelming. Too much.

I flush, inevitably, head ducking.

“Eyes on me,” he blinks, voice lower. “I want to…” his voice falters, just as a short circuit takes over my whole brain: his intoxicating closeness, his eyes on my lips… God.

Terribly close, yet so, so—

He doesn’t even see me exhale, nor wet my lips—my mouth meets his before my thoughts start making sense.  Jungkook shudders at my lips pressing against his, gasping, mouth parting.

He presses his mouth harder on mine, flushing his body against my own, his slender fingers at the nape of my neck.

God.

I pull him closer, so tight I let out a whine that allows him to explore my mouth, tongue demanding, hands clutching at either side of my neck.

Moaning drives him mad, makes the kiss hungrier and more urgent and I’m suddenly gasping for air, tugging at the end of his hair, pulling him to me.

This riles him up—one hand strokes my cheek, gently, as opposed to the licking of his tongue, definitely different from the digging of his fingers at the small of my back.

He draws out his name from my mouth so gently that, for a moment, I think I didn’t speak at all.

“I want you,” he mutters, eyes shut and mouth indefinitely close to mine. “Want you so bad”

“Car,” he kisses me again, “your car, Guk.”

The next actions are a blurred mess (his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwined, my body pushed between the door of his car and Jungkook’s toned torso) but also have me collapsing against Jungkook, his heat pressed against mine.

God.

“Fuck,” he takes a breath, “you’re gorgeous.”

His hands tentatively roam on my hips, descend onto my thighs, grip them, all of this while I lose myself again in his kisses.

“Shit, baby”

Jungkook’s patience runs out when he feels my pebbled nipples against his chest, because he tugs at the end of my thin sweater, then kisses me harder, and I feel him everywhere, when he grips my ass, when he grinds himself against my center, drawing a long moan out of me.

Jungkook is intoxicating.

He draws my breath right out of my lungs, fingers teasing, grinding once again against me.

“Jungkook, fuck”

I whimper, he chuckles. The glorious, idiotic kisser trails pecks all over my neck, sucking on a sweet spot beside my ear.

“Guk, please…”

I don’t know what I’m whining for, but it’s enough for him to smile and close the distance between our mouths once again, savouring me slowly, in a wet, calculated kiss.

Just as my pulsating heat meets his in another tentative grind, Jungkook’s phone brightens the calm darkness of the car.

Oh.

He takes it out, swearing.

I wish I was groaning for other reasons. Sweet, good reasons. Like Jungkook pushing my legs apart, settling between them, lowering to—

“What the fuck do you want, Tae?”

As I listen to my best friend’s voice through the phone, I push myself off Jungkook’s warm body, sliding onto the passenger’s seat, legs crossed.

God.

He looks at me with a questioning look, eyebrows furrowed, and face flushed. His lips are wet from the ministration of my hungry kisses and I instinctively bite mine.

Don’t think about Jungkook’s eating you out, don’t think about Jungkook’s eating you—

“No, we were–we were going home. Yeah, that can do. Don’t worry, give us a minute”

He sighs loudly when the call ends, throwing his head back.

The sight’s almost comical.

“I swear, I didn’t mean to answer. It’s just–the phone was vibrating against my dick and you, too, were very close to my dick and I- “

I interrupt him with a kiss. He melts into it instantly.

“One more,” he hums, “before turning up the engine? Please?”

I erupt into a quiet laugh, obliging.

(What am I gonna do, say no?)

“In case it wasn’t clear,” he rasps, eyes on the road to pick Tae up as he has probably now realised he’d been left all alone without a ride back, “I like you. Have been since managed to eat half a cake in a sitting. Or since you fell asleep on me while watching Princess Mononoke. Which, incidentally, I don’t condone.”

I hold in my breath. “Yeah?”

He waits, then offers his palm to me, “Yeah.”

I intertwine our fingers.

It’s all quiet. It’s all silent. Yet, all warm. A graceful wordless full minute that warms my heart and makes me think this is not real. This is not possible. I think, my mind says, hazed, replaying Jungkook’s kiss once or twice or thrice, this is not really happening.

Oh god. I point with my chin at the next stop. “Pull out for a minute. Just a minute.”

“Something’s wrong?”

When he does, I feel my body aching for him, alive, burning. I can’t believe this. I brush my lips against his, all swollen and tasting, despite everything, still like melon. “In case it wasn’t clear,” I say, softly, “I like you.”

“Yeah?”

I pull back. His nose is touching mine, our foreheads brushing. Jungkook chases me, cupping my cheek with his hand, tracing circles, and letting his tongue delve into my mouth.

“We gotta pick Tae up.”

“Right,” he says, not moving an inch, “Right.”

“I’m gonna trade picking up my best friend for a kiss. Or two.”

“Cockblocker,” Jungkook replies, nodding, “But deal. Wait, no. A kiss. Or two. Hundreds, of course. Along with making out in the car.”

“I’m always free to try your car with you, if I know what you mean, right?”

Jungkook groans. “Let me live.”

“Of course.” A kiss. “My best friend’s waiting.”

“You asked me to pull out.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Of fucking course, do I look dumb to you?”

 ((“I’m moving out”

These are the first words Jungkook hears on a fatal Thursday morning, hands holding onto the kitchen counter.

A mixed feeling paints his expression.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think we both know that it’s the right thing to do,” I add, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“So, you’re moving out. Definitely,” he ruffs his own hair, voice steady and low, his typical morning voice. Even though it seems like he’d like to add more — start asking questions, clear any doubt — I interrupt him, trying to sound as firm as possible.

“Absolutely,” then he nods, slowly, “I’m moving out.”

“Thank god,” he murmurs, hands already cupping my face, “For all the sex we’ll be having.”

“Jungkook!”

“Think about the bed,” he says, smiling like the attractive idiot he is, “The couch. Because you’re getting a couch. Think about all the places Taehyung can’t reach. Baby.”

“Jerk,” I say, kissing him lightly on the mouth.

“I’m celebrating for you, you ungrateful, amazing ass. Think about how easy blowing me will be.”

“Oh my god.”

“Think about how easy it’ll be for me to eat you out.”

I throw my hands around his neck.

“Not complaining anymore, huh?”

“Ass.”

“You love me.”

“That I do, baby.”

That I do.))

[metatiki]

I have no excuse. I wanted to write crackfic so I wrote crackfic. It’s not good, but it made me laugh and that’s what I needed so I thought I’d share. Short & sweet.

---

Everybody Has to Start Somewhere

As told by Philliam! The Bard

It is said that when times are darkest, a hero will appear to save the day. They arrive on a pure white horse with flaming sword held aloft, cape billowing in the wind--preferably in slow motion to get the full effect--as they ride to the rescue of whatever malicious malcontent has dared to menace the masses. The variously sized bosoms of maidens and other, lesser known species of virgin may heave at the very mention of the hero’s name, stars filling their eyes as they dream of the moment when they will meet and fate will take its romantic course. Nobles and merchants may vie for the chance to encounter the hero, hoping to bask and benefit in their glory. These are the tales where word spreads far and wide of their magnificence and might, and where capes never tangle, swords never rust, and bears...well, there are no bears. Not in these kinds of tales, at least.

This, however, is not that sort of tale.

Nor is this a tale about a stalwart young woman who, with a face of determination, grabs her grandmother’s rusty sword from the wall and rides out on the family nag to kill the flock of darkspawn endangering her village and thusly find her way into the storied ranks of the Grey Wardens. Indeed, it isn’t even yet the tale of the servant who escapes a life of cruelty to find their fame in the shadowy cabal of the Antivan Crows, mixing contracts with conscience as they silently shape the future of Thedas by deciding who among the powerful shall live and who shall die. One might even expect it to be the tale of a clever young man who takes the pittance of an inheritance and builds it up through wit and charm into a merchant empire spanning Thedas from the tip of Rivain to the highest reaches of the Anderfels--with maybe even a corner shop or two in the Imperium.

But no. This is the tale of Harold.

His saga began like so many do, with a catastrophe such as the world had never known. In his case, it was kicked off vigorously and with an overabundance of enthusiasm when a large green explosion ripped open the sky, an explosion so monumental that it shook Thedas to its very foundation. Rifts burst into existence across the lands, demons fell from the sky, Templars and mages fought each other with no respite for--Oh, wait. They were doing that already.

All right, never mind that. The point is that these were dire times indeed. The Divine and all her retinue perished in the flames of oblivion, along with the most sacred site for the Chantry, the Temple which had cradled the ass and ashes of the most Holy Andraste for Ages upon Ages, and in the wake of the cataclysm chaos reigned. Who had done such a dastardly deed? Would the world ever be able to recover? And who would step forth to lead us into a bright new world of tomorrow?

The answer, unfortunately, was Harold.

Harold ended up at the Conclave by sheer accident--an accident which involved a nug, a golden-fleeced ram, two bears, a bucking bronto, and an entire squad of surly Fereldan farmers who wanted nothing more than to get Harold out of the beds of their sons and daughters as quickly as possible. He stumbled upon Haven because it was the end of the road to which he'd been driven, and he stayed because large amounts of people usually meant large amounts of food. One more man amidst the crowd didn’t really draw a lot of attention, so, nugwich in hand, he explored the vaunted ruins. It was a simple way to ignore more pressing questions, like what he was going to do with his life and whether or not his father would ever forgive him for the incident involving the Revered mother, the Knight-Lieutenant, and fifteen lace whips of despair.

Don’t ask. You really don’t want to know.

At any rate, after the world exploded, Harold woke up in chains, head pounding with the pain of a thousand hangovers. It was, in his own words, a ‘harsh vibe, bro’ , and it didn’t improve for some time. Accused of murder, paraded in chains for all to see, and forced to take up arms for the first time since he’d been kicked out of Templar school for herding all five hundred of Farmer Mukawk’s brontos into the armory, Harold’s future looked bleak indeed.

And then he encountered his first rift, which I shall relay using his exact words from when I spoke to him on the matter for this very saga:

And it was, like, all green and glowy shit like, whoa, and I was like, dude what is that? And then the dwarf--Varric, my man, my bro, my main dude--yelled at me about some demon or something. Totally harshing my vibe, you know? He didn’t get it back then, but we cool now, no worries. But oh yeah, then the glowy green thing made a noise like *krchow* and *bzzzt* and *zzzap* and I realized that, bro, this was a real problem, ya know? And then the bald dude--Solasbro, my Fade dude--grabbed my hand and pointed it at the green glowy thing and then it was like the sweetest ride ever! Just all this tingly shit going up my spine and out my hand and I was like, whoa, and then it kinda exploded a little and I was all like, whoa, and then there was like a burst of green light that was just completely whoa and then it was gone. So amazing, bro. Man, I had such a boner. Too bad Cass hadn’t gotten that stick out of her ass yet, though let’s be real I'd let her hit me any time. And not just with a stick, ifyouknowwhatImeanandIthinkyoudo.

All verbatim, yes. Also the hand gestures. And the facial expressions. And the--Look, let’s move on.

While Harold’s... unique command of language is literally incredible, he at least managed to persevere through to the Temple, where he met the man who would henceforth be known to the Inquisition as Cullenbro. From there, with some heroic difficulty, he dispatched the Pride Demon by serving as a very effective distraction. After all, running around a demon in circles while telling it to Just stop with the zapping already, my dude! would probably distract even the best of us.

Singed but undeterred, Harold went on to acquire his first proper title: the Herald of Andraste. It would be the first of only two, but would become the most iconic: Harold, the Herald of Andraste, whose tale will be told in this, the greatest work of Philliam! The Bard:

The Saga of the Himbo Herald!

[laristocratebohemienne]

30 day self-care challenge I’m starting today

I’m starting a self-made 30 day self-care challenge. I will update you on my Snapchat about my journey: @aristocratebabe (well, everyday except day 4, see bellow).

Day 1 - get glamed up and take a hot selfie

Make yourself feel glowed up. Put the nicest outfit on, do your makeup, do your hair and take that selfie. Or find someone to take your photos, even better.

Day 2 - get 8 hours of sleep and wake up by 9 am

As a person who got used to waking up at noon, I feel like I’m done with this. I love nighttime, but I feel so guilty when I wake up late. So join me in this challenge and wake up by 9 am if your sleep schedule is crushed like mine or 1 hour earlier if you already wake up at 9 am. Just make sure to get 9 hours of sleep.

Day 3 - go for a hike/swim/run/speed walk with friend/s

Do some fitness activity outdoors, but make sure to so it with a friend or two. Why? If you’re an overthinker and you want to start taking care of yourself, socializing will help you so much. And also, taking a good workout will help you get the dopamine boost and you’ll get one step closer to your healthier self.

Day 4 - don’t go on social media for a full day

Social media isn’t the root of all evil, but it can be the root of envy and comparison. Today do not check your social media at all. Remember, it’s just one day, you’ll be back at it tomorrow. Tell your friends and family to text you on Whatsapp or other messaging app or simply call you, because you won’t be available on it this particular day. Extra challenge: at the end of a day, journal how you feel without Facebook, insta or tiktok. Is there a difference in your day? What did you do instead of checking SM?

Day 5 - Meditate & visualize

Do this challenge right after your previous challenge. Why? Social media might make you think that you want some things that you actually don’t want. When you visualize your life, you should visualize what YOU want, not what a random person in your hometown wants. This is YOUR life. Live it for yourself. And meditate before you visualize to ground yourself better.

Day 6 - Reach out to someone new in your field

Go to Linkedin or somewhere where professionals you want to be like reside, and reach out to them. Whether is it an e-mail or a Linkedin message. Do this. Tell them you’d like to be in their position once and if they could give you any advice. Try this with someone who seems active online.

Day 7 - Invite someone for coffee with whom you’d really like to meet

Maybe you already know this person, maybe not. But today you will invite someone you’d be wanting to become friends with or simply engage in conversation with. If you already have someone in mind, keep them and do it.

Day 8 - Make dinner for friends or family

Today you will connect better with your friends or family by making a special dinner. Or if you really don’t know how to cook, take them out and put the bill on yourself.

Day 9 - Make a gratitude list

Something easier than a few previous days, but today make a gratitude list. Write down everything you’re grateful for. It can be the birds in the sky or having a home to live in. Or it can be something more, anything you want, write it down!

Day 10 - Ask someone who seems “out of your league” on a date

I’m pretty sure everybody has that someone with whom they’d like to go on a date with. But maybe they are too scared that they are “out of your league”. First of all, if you’re a woman who takes care of herself (and by this day, you really are), no man is out of your league! Same goes for men and everyone else. If you’re taking care of yourself, loving yourself and getting your vibes up, no one is out of your league. Text them!

Day 11 - Read a book with topic that is unfamiliar to you

Knowledge is power. And it really is. Read any book (non-fiction) which is centered around a theme which is quiet unfamiliar to you. For this, I will go for a finance book. Because I definitely need to work on my money management!

Day 12 - Eat super clean

You need a detox. I’m pretty sure. On this day, you have to cut out all processed foods, added salt, sugar or saturated fats. You’re going on a detox. If you’re a smoker, you can’t smoke today. Just one day. I’m a smoker, too, so I completely understand the difficult this challenge might present, but that is what challenges are for.

Day 13 - Share this challenge with a friend or someone you know

Nobody likes to feel alone. You don’t have to keep this challenge a secret, you’re already on day 13. Tell someone you’re doing it and ask them to join you. Tell them how much your life has changed since doing this challenge.

Day 14 - No complaints

“But how am I gonna do this? I’m complaining all the time.” - stop it, sweetie. I know you’re complaining a lot and where did all these complaints lead you to? You were miserable, let’s see what’s gonna happen after this “no complaints” day ends.

Day 15 - Apply for a job position you dream of

I desire to be a model for example. But I have never felt eligible to apply for a modeling job before. I’m sure there’s a job position which you have been dreaming of for a while, but you didn’t even dare to apply. Today, you have to.

Day 16 - Do something creative

Pretend you’re an artist, musician, singer, photographer or other arts professional. Make a music video, take great photos, paint a full picture, write a short story. Today you will explore your artistic abilities.

Day 17 - Visit a place in your town where you usually don’t go

Choose a different coffee shop, place or a restaurant which you usually don’t visit in your area. Explore new places.

Day 18 - Do a brain dump

Write every idea, thought, memory, regret etc. that is on your mind. Get clarity and get inspired.

Day 19 - Track everything you did today

Track every activity you do this day and at which time. This can feel obsessive, but is extremly effective for your time management.

Day 20 - Write down your bucket list

The craziest, most exciting and thrilling things you will achieve in your life will be written here. Write about places you want to go to, activities you want to experience, romantic pleasures, financial goals... this is an extended brain dump.

Day 21 - Flirt with a stranger you find attractive

If this isn’t on your bucket list, i don’t know what is. Maybe you’re dating that person from day 10, if so, flirt with them and make them feel like they’re living in a movie. Dress up nicely, move like a siren, and talk seductively. Find your flirting style this way. Do something similar with an attractive stranger in your grocery store.

Day 22 - Plan your day so the majority of it you spend outside

Try not to stay so much inside your home today. If you’re working or going to school/University, after those, don’t go home. Go to a park, sit by the beach or anywhere to be outside. Invite a collegue with you. Or grab coffee with them. Just try to be outside more than inside today.

Day 23 - Do something out of your comfort zone at work/school/University today

During a lecture, answer to professor’s question or ask him something in front of everyone. At work, think of something you want to do so badly, but didn’t have the guts to make it. Today you have.

Day 24 - Join a class where you can learn a new and valuable skill

Whether it’s a dancing, yoga, improv, digital marketing, language or any other class where you can learn a new skill. Do it. And I know it’s corona happening now, but try to do it where you can be connected with other attendees. If it’s done on Zoom, make sure it’s a public class and nothing private. You want to be around people. This could also mean joining a gym.

Day 25 - Get a tattoo or a piercing you’ve been wanting to have for a long time

It’s important to get out of your comfort zone and make things happen in this self-care challenge. If you’ve been wanting to get a tattoo, but you delayed it because you didn’t know which one, brainstorm today and make an appointment. Same thing for piercing. If you don’t want this, dress the way you have always wanted to dress today. Treat yourself with style of your choice.

Day 26 - Do not use any technology

On day 4, you didn’t use social media, today you won’t be using your phone, laptop, tablet, play station, TV or any other tech device. Be analog and vintage. Let’s see how it goes. Note: announce this to your friends, family, partner.

Day 27 - Plan a country you will absolutely visit in the near future

If corona is stopping you at this, do this the next year. Plan a vacation for a foreign country that you absolutely will visit in the near future. You don’t have to have the whole itinerary planned, but set the date.

Day 28 - Learn an easy dance

Imagine when you go to the next party and show your friends those new moves! Learn some simple dance today, take an hour out of your day and broaden your experience.

Day 29 - Make a vision board

In the past 28 days, you have challenged yourself enough to get the idea of where your life should go. You stepped out of your comfort zone and took care of yourself. Maybe some of these habits remained with you. So today make a vision board. Vision boards are awesome because they help you focus on what lifestyle suits you and your goals. And the more you see it, the more your subconcious will think you already have it, and that is the key to manifesting goals.

Day 30 - Challenge your beliefs

For the last day of this challenge, take initiative and do something yourself. When you wake up today, ask yourself: “if I could do anything today, what would I do?” Find the closest possible solution to that problem and do something different today. Something which is very specific for you situation.

And there they are! My 30-day challenge is done. It’s a mix of self-care, productivity, and social challenges. All essentials for one’s growth and happiness.

Check my Snapchat: @aristocratebabe where I will update my progress!

[sirenfromthelostcity]

The Most Pt. 1

A/N: Okay so this is my first ever John Wick fic! In a nutshell, it’s basically like a mentor X student AU. I don’t know why but i couldn’t get that idea out of my head and i really wanted to write it, so here! It’s called The Most bc it reminds me of the song with the same title from Miley Cryrus’s new EP. I wouldn’t say the fic is inspired by the song, not entirely at least, but idk to me it just vibes with it (if that makes any sense? i feel like once the second part is out it might make more sense?). This fic is intended to have a second part so that shall also be posted shortly as i have another mini John Wick fic i wanna start and i also want to write the second part to my short Spider-Man fic. I’m so excited about this story y’all! I hope you all enjoy it! As always, feedback is always appreciated. Without further ado, enjoy! :))))

Words: 2.7k+

Today marks the fourth and a half year that you’ve been under John Wick’s tutelage. Only six more months left and John will have had completed his marker. Initially, John was rather reluctant to be your instructor but the marker held by your father gave him no other choice but to abide by your father’s request to turn you into a formidable assassin. Who better to teach you than the infamous John Wick himself?

In the beginning of your training journey, John didn’t bother to hide his reluctance in your father’s request. This made things rather difficult until one day you decided to confront him about his behavior. He was in his study, probably searching for a way to get out of having to train you, when you knocked to let your presence be known then proceeded to enter.

“Evening, Mr. Wick, call me crazy, but I’m getting an inkling that you don’t want to train me.”

He scoffed.

“Believe me, I get it. I bet you’d really rather not have me intercepting with your lonesome peace and quiet but the bottom line is that I have to do this too and I have to learn it all to be as good as you. Maybe not exactly as good as you, but good enough to have me not die immediately as that would be, despite your current opinion of me, quite upsetting.”

He silently glared at you for a long minute, still not very much pleased with his current situation, “Why do you want to do this?”

“Want, who said anything about want? You may be bound by a marker, Mr. Wick, but I’m bound by my family to learn and master everything that there is to know about how to thrive in this lifestyle to survive in it.”

The room remained uncomfortably silent for sometime but you still didn’t falter in your stance.

“Before me who did you train with?” he asked.

“Well I was being trained in Krav Maga by Gabriel Avdeyev for some time but he and my family had a falling out and-–”

“I heard,” he sighed. “.... Based on the results of your initial assessment you have a lot to improve on. For starters, the way you initiate your attacks are okay but they will need to be refined or you will be killed. Get some rest. Tomorrow at dawn we will continue your training.”

Despite knowing John couldn’t actually purposely hurt or kill you, he was still very intimidating and the confrontation was rather hard to execute. But, it paid off.

Training with the notorious John Wick also meant living with him and sometimes that involved taking care of each other. Along with being a good fighter and shooter, John also stressed that one needs to know how to properly patch themselves up. He’s given you medical lessons before but to really teach you, one night he decided to not go to his usually doctor for a patch up but to go directly to you instead and see what you’ve retained from your lessons. When that great idea struck him it was in the middle of the night and he gave you quite a fright when he went into your room all bloody. You almost shot him with the gun you had hidden under your pillow if it weren’t for his quick reflexes which actually made you feel really impressed considering he was critically injured.

“Are you serious, John?” you asked, rather irked at being abruptly awoken at three in the morning.

“No, I’m bleeding. Now get up, this is part of your training. Time to see how much you’ve retained from those medical lessons,” he grunted as another pang of pain struck his lower abdomen.

You promptly threw your covers over your body and got out of bed before leading him to the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. After finding the source of his bleeding you unbuttoned his shirt and got to work. Under the circumstances, seeing John shirtless wasn’t at all awkward. However, ogling his exposed chest was the last thing on you mind considering how he was bleeding an awful lot from his lower abdomen.

“Jesus what did they nick you with? This looks really bad,” you comment as you inspect the wound.

“Broken bottle of champagne. Try to avoid those in the future, they can be pretty tricky to fix.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you proceeded to clean the wound and remove any stray traces of glass, subconsciously taking quick glances at him whenever he winced. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“Do you happen to have bourbon in any of these cabinets?”

“No, but I wouldn’t really recommend that considering how alcohol consumption can actually thin your blood out and make you bleed more.”

“But it does help with the pain.”

“Mmmmm, I’d still wager more on the pills designed specifically for that.”

John huffed. At this point you’re finally starting to stitch up his wound but his pained grunts make it a little difficult to focus.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“That’s so sad, John,” you paused to briefly glance at him. “Also super broody. We get it, you’re a badass.”

“A bad ass? That seems rude,” he sarcastically replied.

“Oh, my god, you’re actually joking with me for the second time this night. Don’t think I missed that dad joke earlier with the ‘No, I’m bleeding,’” you imitated his gruff voice and lightly laughed. “Good one, John.”

The small smile subconsciously remained on your face for a few seconds longer and John couldn’t help but admire how nicely it adorned your face. You caught him vaguely looking at you but simply assumed blood loss had something to do with the way he was looking at you. He turned away before you could even question your hypothesis.

“Well, we’re all done now. With the abdomen wound at least,” you noticed he’s also bleeding from his head and move to inspect it but his hands reached out and gently grabbed your wrists.

“It’s alright, (Y/N), I can take care of the rest, you’ve done good with the ugliest of them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John, I’m here now and I’ve got this for you.”

Never one to waste words, John remained silent which you took as a go ahead.

Thankfully the injuries on his head were nothing more than a few small cuts. At least on that night they were. Some nights John would come back with much rougher cuts, clearly showing that whoever he had fought had certainly put up a good fight but not quite good enough to best John Wick. Still, not only did cleaning his injuries provide you with insights to his battles, it helped you both establish a sense of trust between you two.  

After that night, rather than go to his usual doctor John began going straight to you for his patch ups. Could he have chosen to start going to you simply because it’s quicker than stopping by The Continental first and then home? Possibly. The reason for him basically appointing you as his patch up doc never really came up but you didn’t really care. By then your affection and attachment to John was beginning to grow so you didn’t mind being the one to help him feel better after a difficult job. Not to mention that tending to his wounds meant having a good excuse to touch him. Not while overstepping your boundaries, of course, but sometimes it was just nice to be able to be able to grab his hands without it being weird. Tending to the cuts on his face was something you always saved for last. It was your chance to really admire his facial features up close while simultaneously healing it. Sometimes you were so gentle with him that he actually managed to doze off and you were able to tell when it happened because he’d look so relaxed and serene. When you had to wake him up, although you didn’t want to but you knew he’d sleep much more comfortably in his bed than in a stiff chair, he’d always apologize for falling asleep which in effect often lead you both to joke about it. However, you swear that you caught him blushing the first few times it happened and when it did it just felt so, human…

You and John have really come a long way in terms of tolerating each other and actually bonding together. You both truly did. Because John is your instructor and you are over a decade younger than him, your relationship with him was purely professional. However, after about two years of training with him, your feelings for him continued to evolve into a much more stronger and different kind of admiration.

Are you in love with The Baba Yaga?

The answer to that would be a very strong perhaps. When you and John were briefed on the deal of the marker, you were supposed to learn about weapons training, fighting forms, assassination techniques, melee weapons training, etc. You were to learn how to become a proficient and deadly assassin, such as John, not about love or anything else that might be considered a weakness.

You hardly ever give yourself the chance to ponder on your feelings for John, much less at the possibility that he could possess the same feelings of affection towards you. It’s not as if you believe that the less you think or talk about it the less real it is, you aren’t that naive. You’ve simply decided long ago that you’re not going to act on your feelings for John. Love or anything remotely close to that is just not in the cards for people like you and John. At least that’s what you keep repeating to yourself.

Still, with your training nearing to an end you’ve been feeling really glum about it. Training with the notorious John Wick hasn’t been easy but living with and falling in love with the real man behind the legend was so foolishly easy. John is an extremely proficient killer, that much is true, but he is also a man. John is a man with dry humor, a latent love for the simpler things in life, a fun penchant for stunt driving and cars, kind and gentle eyes, and, surprisingly but also not really, a man of a very chivalrous nature. Despite the initial turbulence in your mentor-student relationship, you and John inevitably became good friends which really allowed you to see him under a different light. He often took you out to nice dinners claiming that he wanted a change of scenery from an uneventful day or simply because you did very well while training. Either way you enjoyed your outings with him and also simply appreciated being in an entirely different place, not being reminded of the person you’re supposed to become. However whenever you got injured while training to become that person, John would actually help patch you up. Although he’s taught you how to do so yourself, John would claim the medical lessons were mainly for when you are by yourself and have no one to help you and he’d remind you that he’s there with you now. Which is pretty similar to what you’ve told him the first time you helped patch him up now that you think of it. For an assassin who’s extremely well known for his brutal techniques and merciless takedowns, it astounded you to learn that the same man can also be so gentle. You’re not even officially leaving yet but you already know just how badly you’re going to miss John Wick.

In spite of yourself choosing to not focus on a particular set of feelings held for a particular person, today your brain can’t help but do the exact opposite. Today, John decided to focus more on Brazilian Jui-Jitsu. Little to your knowledge, John actually enjoys training you in this fighting form because these techniques allow a weaker or smaller attacker to successfully overpower a stronger opponent by manipulating the human body and redirecting it’s force. Therefore, if you do it right, you could use the opponent's strength against them and take them down. Usually you do very well in this form of martial arts but today John is able to tell you’re not fully there with him. Although John is very good at Brazilian Jui-Jitsu you’re level of skill is practically on par with his as well and you’re current struggle to beat him is alerting him.

Currently, John has you in locked in a rear choke hold on the ground, with one arm wrapped around your neck, his other arm around your free arm, and one leg wrapped around your other arm preventing you from breaking free. You struggle for a few seconds, realizing there’s no use, he’s already one this match, and grunt in frustration. John loosens his grip around you but doesn’t fully release you yet, he brings his lips close to your ear, “What’s wrong?”

The feel of his breath on your skin sends shivers down your spine, yet you quickly and physically swat those thoughts to the side and shake your head, “Right now you have me in a choke hold and I can’t get out of it, John. I don’t know about you but this seems like a pretty big issue for me.”

John instantly releases his grip on you and rises up, he’s about to lend you a hand to get up as well but you’ve already beaten him to that.

“That’s not what I meant, (Y/N). Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you insist. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“For starters, I’ve been kicking your ass in this all day when I know I’ve taught you better than that. And for another, you just seem very distracted today.”  

John is as perceptive as he is deadly, which is why you don’t bother lying to him again and instead insist on continuing to train.

You look down for a second before looking up, making sure to avoid his concerned gaze, “Look, John, do you mind if we just call it in for the day?”

“Something is wrong,” he states.

“John,” you impatiently groan.   

“Why won’t you just tell me what the issue is?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it!” you snap and instantly regret it, rubbing at your temples. “Okay, I did not mean to say it like that. I’m sorry. I just need to cool off right now, John…”

This time you don’t wait for permission and simply walk away, however, John doesn’t try to stop you either. Not because he doesn’t care, quite the contrary in fact. Concerned and confused, John intently watches you head towards your room. He begins to trail after you but halts in his steps deciding that right now the  best option would be to give you your space. Still, John can’t help but wonder about what could possibly be troubling your mind so much and why you refuse to speak of it.

He glances one last time in the direction you previously walked in before heading towards the kitchen and serving himself a shot of bourbon.

“You can’t do anything about it!” your words replay in his mind.

“She’ll tell me when she’s ready,” he mentally tells himself. “We’ll figure it out then.”

John downs two more shots, currently finding it difficult to dwindle his concern and thoughts of you, before taking off in the direction of his room. He encounters the door to your bedroom on his way and halts at the entrance. He balls his hand into a fist and raises it to knock on your door but slowly brings it down and proceeds to head to his room. After finally entering his room, he gives your door one last glance before closing his door and retreating to his room for the remainder of the day.

[tumbler-tidbits]

Damned Desires

@spnkinkbingo square filled: Demon!Dean

Pairing: Unnamed female character x Demon!Dean

Word Count: 1870

Warnings: fingering, oral sex (male receiving), blow job, face fucking, choking, slight praise kink, hair pulling, dirty thoughts, name calling, dirty talk, P in V sex, unprotected sex, some bondage, rough sex, bit of cum play? and a very faint hint of non-con at the very end if you squint. It’s nothing graphic.

Summary: Dean enjoys his newfound freedom.

A/N:Thanks so much to girls @maddiepants @thoughtslikeaminefield for looking this over and helping me improve it! Love you bitches 😘

He’s drinking scotch. Top shelf too, not the watered down shit the usuals order. He keeps watching me like I’m his prey; like any second he’ll pounce and devour every piece of me. To be honest, I hope he does.

What can I say? He’s hot, and I’m horny.

He’s clearly interested - at least that’s what I assume from the dimpled smirk and the way he’s fucking me with his eyes. I haven’t had sex since my asshole ex fucked my (also ex) best friend eight months ago. So to say I’m a little wound up would be an understatement, my senses are high and this guy is giving off serious vibes.

I continue my work, sneaking a look at him every once and awhile. He stopped watching the girls dance since he moved to the single table at the back of the bar. But since I caught him looking, he hasn’t moved an inch, and his eyes continue tracking my every move like a hawk.

He’s sipping his drink like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His strong body is leaning purposefully against the hightop, sandy hair spiked every which way, and then there’s his eyes. His eyes are so intense it’s like he can see into my soul. It chills me to the bone and sends a quiver to my core. Is it possible to be scared and horny at the same time? His smile is sweet and charming. But those damn eyes, there’s a darkness there and the longer I stare I swear I see them turn black.

I try to convince myself that's not possible. It must be a trick of light because I don’t want to think, I don’t want to question, or be afraid. I just want to feel his gorgeous body and hands and mouth on me.

Three hours. It’s been three hours and he’s still just standing there like a freak. Normally, I would have had him kicked out by now. But this guy, he’s just so… intoxicating... and alluring. He’s drawn me in like a fly to a spider's web, and I’m helpless to stop him from devouring me.

It’s last call, and only the mystery man remains as I begin to close down. When I tell him “you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here”, he grins like the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re going to have to come back tomorrow to watch the girls,” I say.

“Sweetheart, the only girl I’m watching is you,” he says as he pushes away from the table and starts toward me.

“I’m sorry?” I sputter, trying to feign offense and not mount him this very second. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Don’t play shy, darlin’,” he says. “I know you saw me watchin’ you.” As he moves closer, excitement starts to bubble within me, mixed with just a bit of apprehension. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite… unless o’course you want me to.” Then he winks.

“Oh, fuck me,” I whisper, clenching my thighs together on reflex.

He’s right in front of me now and I hold my breath. He leans in, nothing but his hot breath in my ear when he says, “that’s the plan.”

All my inhibitions flounder and my knees go weak. I brace myself against the table to keep from falling and he chuckles. Fucking chuckles! And before I know it, his mouth is on mine.

Immediately, his hand is in my hair pulling me to him with his tongue in my mouth, licking and exploring every inch. He bites my bottom lip as his hand travels up my thigh and under my skirt. When he cups my covered sex, I lift my leg and place it on the bench seat to give him more access, and he hums in approval.

“Someone’s a good girl,” he whispers

He moves my panties to the side as he slips a finger inside, and I can’t help but moan. Then he’s whispering in my ear again,

“You always like this, Princess? Lettin’ random strangers fuck you after work?”

I manage a shake of my head as a second finger joins the first and I clench around him. I don’t know what it is about him that has me throwing myself at him. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I just can’t help myself. It’s like he’s opened Pandora’s box and I’ve been hit with lust.

“Look at this needy, little cunt swallowing my fingers,” he sneers. “Can't wait to watch it take my cock.”

I brace my hands on his shoulders as I feel my climax approaching. I’m so close, the coil in my belly is about to snap. Just when I’m about to come, he yanks his fingers away, and I whine in protest.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re not coming yet.”

He drags my skirt and thong down my legs and hoists me up. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck and lock my ankles behind his back. Of course there’s this nagging thought in the back of my head, and a twist in my stomach. You know - the one that tells you to run. Yet here I am about to let this stranger fuck me into oblivion.

He’s still ravaging me with hot, needy kisses, only leaving my mouth when he sucks at the pulse point on my neck as he carries me over to the pool table and plops my ass onto the scratchy green felt.

My shirt and bra quickly join the parade of scattered garments around the bar and it’s entirely unfair that he’s still fully clothed.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I tell him. “Get this fucking shirt off.”

He snickers at my demand and pulls his shirt over his head. “As you wish.”

Fuck, I thought he was gorgeous before, but he’s a fucking Adonis.

He’s all chiseled muscle beneath glistening, golden skin. He’s perfectly sculpted, right down to where his jeans hang low on the V of his hips, hiding his cock and that perfect peach of an ass. It’s hypnotic. I can’t help myself, I have to taste him.

I hop off the pool table and drop to my knees in front of him, kissing and licking at his navel as I undo his belt and jeans. He runs his fingers through my hair while I pull his hardened length free, and he growls deep in his chest when I lick the tip.

I alternate between giving him a few slow pumps and licking the length of his cock. Then he gives a harsh yank to my hair and barks, “stop teasing.”

I hiss and quickly take him into my mouth, relishing the feel of it. He’s thick and long and I briefly wonder if I’ll be able to take him all, in either place.

I continue to take more of him into my mouth, relaxing my jaw and willing my gag reflex to stay at bay, when he speaks.

“C’mon, you dirty whore. Take my fat cock.” I descend a bit more and start to choke, but he pulls my face towards him forcing the rest of his cock down my throat.

“All the way, that’s a good girl,” he hums.

Fucking Hell, I love his filthy mouth and the way he’s using me. It makes me even wetter.

“You like that? Huh?” he asks as he continues fucking into my mouth. “Holy shit, you’re making a fucking mess, look at you! Choking on my cock and dripping down your thighs… Fucking beautiful.”

Then he yanks me back and nearly throws me up onto the pool table. I barely have time to catch my breath before he grabs behind my knees, pulls me to the edge, and slams his cock home into my aching cunt.

I scream in surprise at the sudden intrusion. I’m plenty wet, but he’s thick and it causes my walls to stretch with a glorious burn and sting. The scream quickly turns into moans as he fucks me then finds my clit and starts a pattern of rough circles on the sensitive bud.

Leaning forward he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, licks all around it with his warm tongue, and then pulls the stiff peak between his teeth. I arch my back searching for more as I near my climax. I claw at his shoulders, my nails leaving red tracks in their wake as I beg him for more.

“Harder!”

“Yeah, sweetheart? You like it rough?” he asks and I grunt out a ‘yes.’ He picks up the pace and the damn breaks. I come hard and screaming,

“Ohh, myyy G-gggooooood,”

He chuckles his response, “Not even close darlin’.’”

Suddenly he flips me over on to my stomach and yanks both my arms behind me. I can feel him wrapping his leather belt around my wrists and the thrill of it sends a new wave of pleasure to my aching pussy.

He slams back into me in one fluid motion, using my bound wrists like an anchor to thrust into me even harder.

His cock is impossibly deep, reaching spots in my pussy I didn’t know existed. I swear it feels like he will puncture my cervix. As he continues to pound into me with brutal force my bare nipples burn and chafe roughly against the green material, the table rocks, while the billiard balls clank and roll. I know I’ll be sore tomorrow and I fucking love it. This is exactly what I wanted - no, this is what I needed.

His thrusts begin to waver and I know he’s about to come. After a few more powerful thrusts he pulls out and I can feel him come all over my ass and back. The sticky hot spurts cooling against my sweat dampened skin.

When he’s finished and I’ve caught my breath, I stand up and wait for him to untie the belt from my wrists. When he doesn’t I turn to look at him, raising my eyebrow in question.

He grins, but it’s not the same sexy charming grin from before, this one is sinister and makes my stomach drop. Suddenly, all of my previous doubts resurface and I don’t feel so sure of this stranger I just willingly fucked.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, his voice sickeningly saccharine. His fingers wrap around my throat, pushing me back onto the pool table,

“We’re just getting started.” And then his eyes flash black.

END

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[drkreviews]

The Pillows - Catchy Rocking Busters

Here I am with the week-end special in “Focusing on”! Today’s subject is a pivotal Japanese rock band, which defined the history of the scene for the latest twenty years. We’re talking about The Pillows, formed on 1989 and composed by Sawao Yamanaka (vo. & gt.), Yoshiaki Manabe (gt.), Jun Suzuki (ba.) and Shinichirou Satou (dr.). The band name comes up from a famous punk compilation named Pillows and Prayers, while their concept, a not defined one, is based on fun and grotesque images (not by case their mascotte is a weird bear named Buster-kun). Their genre is an alternative rock made more of energy than everything else, with upbeat and really unpredictable melodies. Their debut occurred on 1990 with two mini-albums, Pantomime and 90′s my Life, followed by the single Ame ni utaeba (Singing in the rain).

The title-track has a pleasant rock sound, driven by a passionate instrumental work and simple vocals; the song is about singing in the rain for looking for the happiness. It has been followed by the first album Moon Gold, the single Kanojo wa sister (She’s my sister), the second album White Incarnation, the third album Kool Spice, the single Daydream Wonder, the fourth album Living Field, the singles Girlfriend Tiny Boat, Strange Chameleon, Swanky Street and Trip Dancer, the fifth album Please Mr. Lostman and the singles Kanojo wa kyou (Today, she...) and One Life.

The title-track, used as opening theme for the anime FLCL, features a sustained rhythm, building up a melancholic and nostalgic rock theme; the song is about leaving a sign within our own life. It has been followed by the singles Hybrid Rainbow and Another Morning, the sixth album Little Busters, the singles No Self Control and Instant Music, the seventh album Runners High, the singles Carnival and Rush, the eighth album Happy Bivouac and the single Ride on Shooting Star.

The title-track, used as ending theme for FLCL, features a more energetic and living rock melody, empowered by the guitar; the song is about traveling on a shooting star for finding the loved one. It has been followed by the single I Think I Can, the compilation Fool on the Planet, the ninth album Smile, the single Shiroi natsu to midori no jitensha akai kami to kuroi gitaa (White summer and green bicycle, red hair and black guitar), the compilation Another Morning Another Pillows, the tenth album Thank you, my Twilight, the single Terminal Heaven’s Rock, the eleventh album Penalty Life, the third mini-album Turn Back, the tribute album Synchronized Rockers, the single Sono mirai wa ima (That future is now), the twelfth album Good Dreams, the singles Non Fiction and The Third Eye, the thirteenth album My Foot, the singles Gazelle City and Scarecrow, the fourteenth album Wake Up! Wake Up! Wake Up!, the singles Ladybird Girl, Tokyo Bambi and New Animal, the fifteenth album Pied Piper, the compilations Once Upon a Time and Rock Stock & Too Smoking The Pillows, the single Ameagari ni mita maboroshi (Remember again the vision we saw after the rain), the sixteenth album Ooparts, the singles Rodeo Star Mate and Movement, the seventeenth album Horn Again, the singles Comic Sonic and Energia, the eighteenth album Trial, the single Happy Birthday, the tribute album Rock and Sympathy, the single About a Rock ‘N’ Roll Band, the nineteenth album Moondust, the compilation B-Side Collection “Across the Metropolis”, the twentieth album Stroll and Roll, the single Ousama ni nare (Be a king) and the twenty-first album Nook in the Brain.

One of the lead-tracks, named Envy, has a more modern rock sound, but anyway filled by the unique vibe provided by the band; the song is about the many thoughts and images which come out during the sleep. It has been followed by the single The World There Is Nowhere.

In almost thirty years of career, The Pillows redefined the canons of the Japanese rock scene in an interesting manner, accompaining nostalgic and catchy themes with a bit of rebel and funny touch which made their sound different and distinctive compared to other bands. This commistion helped them achieving a large popularity, especially in the West, reinforced by their musical presence in the popular anime FLCL, where they contributed to the whole soundtrack. Not by case they released a compilation dedicated to this project, named FooL on CooL generation, which gathers all the themes they provided in each episode of the anime. But they are more than an anime rock band and they are continuining to show it with the twenty-second album Rebroadcast, released last Wednesday, where their style seems to improve and to entertain more, even staying in the same way.

Who might enjoy: who is looking for a curious and funny rock band, with a peculiar energy and a distinctive image.

Recommended songs: Ame ni utaeba, One Life, Hybrid Rainbow, Ride on Shooting Star, I Think I Can, Ousama ni nare and Envy.

That’s all folks! See you tomorrow for the montly chart in “Best of... September 2018″!

Thanks for the reading!

*Sorry for the delay*