#i literally had this conversation with a friend in january of this year lol

[dvrk-moon]

ENHYPEN ; 엔하이픈

HAVING AN IDOL S/O

requested : yes!!!

genre : fluff, crack

pairing : enhypen ot7 x fem!reader

warnings : cursing, this is long asfk LOL

HEESEUNG ; 희승

so you two trained together

and you mutually liked each other while training but didn’t really talk much

you ended up leaving bighit in early 2018 and going to train at cube instead

so you lost contact

but you ended up debuting as the maknae of (g)i-dle

and since you debuted before enhypen, you were more well known than they were initially

you were one of the more famous members in the group in korea, so your face was pretty inescapable

so imagine heeseung’s reaction when he sees a birthday ad for you for the first time

mind literally blown

so he’s like looking you and your group up to see if it’s really you (it is)

and he’s like damn i gotta get in contact with her again

but he doesn’t have an opportunity because even from a friends standpoint, he didn’t really have time because he had to focus on training and eventually going through i-land

ok skip forward and he’s debuted yay!!!!!

so you had a promotion period that’d lined up around a year and a half later where you made a duo debut with your member shuhua while enha was promoting manifesto

and heeseung saw you backstage once

between him seeing you for the first time up until that point he’d literally been trying to find out how to talk to you again

and this was his opportunity!

so before you went to perform heeseung approached you randomly

and lowkey you’d forgotten about heeseung until you saw him again lol

and you’re like oh hey… so awkward because what do you genuinely say to someone you haven’t talked to in like four years

but when you remember that he’s the heeseung that you talked to during your trainee days (the same heeseung you had a thing for) you are more willing to talk to him

but then your conversation is cut short because you have to go perform your song

when you come back, he’s still waiting for you :((((

like that man is COMMITTED to getting to talk to you again

so then after like thirty minutes of talking (right before he has to go promote his song) he finally gets the courage to ask for your number

and you’re like shit yeah

so he texts you like every day

and during your overlapping promotions, he tries to meet up with you backstage as frequently as possible

so eventually you gain feelings for him again (and he obviously does for you) and you start hanging out

but then he goes on tour for a while

you miss him a lot

and he misses you a lot

so when he comes back, he impulsively like picked you up while hugging and you’re like um okay MARRY ME

one hangout he finally asks you out (as more than friends) and you’re so excited

so you quickly begin dating :)

dating him is definitely like dating your number one supporter

like he makes it a point to meet you backstage (even if you don’t have an overlapping promotion) and he makes you teach him your choreography

and you’re like “heeseung i can teach you this at your or my dorm” and he’s like “nope i need everyone here to know that you only teach me your dances”

you’re like “???” but don’t question it bc he’s just odd

he prefers you to go over to his dorms because of his solo room but he’s not opposed to making friends with your members even though they’re all older than him

just know if you go over to enha’s dorms though they will 100% try to be around you all the time

and don’t get heeseung wrong, he obviously wanted the members to like you, but he also wasn’t anticipating his own girlfriend being stolen from him

you almost get caught by dispatch a couple times

but dispatch fr fr catches him at MAMA

like this man was so protective of his idol image for so long and the he watched your performance and dispatch was like “WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN”

does not gaf if you’re exposed tho bc he’s like “yup that’s my girlfriend suck it she’s MINE”

JAY ; 제이

so you debuted before him

by like a year and a half, so like january 2019

you were one of the members of itzy, which was the talk of the town for quite some time

and jay was actually a huge fan of your group since he was a trainee

your group had a few hit songs in korea but jay made it seem like every song of yours (yes this includes b sides)

you’d been his bias since your teaser dropped ofc

and he made it everyone’s problem to listen to your music during practice

even during i-land there were clips of him doing the shoulder move from ‘wannabe’

but i digress

so once his debut place is secured as of i-land episode 12 he was so excited that he might have the opportunity of meeting you

but like. he had to be normal about it

so he freaked out about you respectfully

but “respectfully” to him was mentioning you as his role model and ideal type

on like every variety program possible

like damn we get it!!!!

but your and his companies thought it would be just so silly and funny if they brought you out to meet him the next time he mentioned you

and so they did exactly that!!!

he was on weekly idol and all of a sudden you came out from where the staff were filming

he actually almost fainted on the spot

and you thought it was sooo cute that he was that flattered over meeting you

so you approached him and asked him for his number

cue him almost passing out pt 2

but you end up talking quite a bit

like u come visit him quite often and he comes to visit you

and he like is literally like the perfect talking stage

so it takes like zero time for you guys to actually start dating

but when he can’t visit you he’s texting you all the time

“your stage was so good how are you real”

always buying albums for each other for support

and he’s like $$ so he buys a ton of yours (and of his if you want some)

he gets so excited when he pulls your photocard and is so happy when you pull his because he thinks it’s fate

but the one time he caught riki’s photocard in the back of your phone he swapped it out for his almost immediately

he always jokes about his bias being yuna, and so you’ve started to make a point of saying your bias is jungwon and sunghoon

and because you did that you took a picture of you and jungwon once to send to him like “proof that my bias is jungwon”

that pic became his lock screen btw

you one time said that you were an enhypen fan and midzy and engene were freaking out

they were like “just date already smh”

little did they know that you already were!

JAKE ; 제이크

you were a year and a half their junior

and you debuted in kep1er

so the time that they were promoting blessed cursed you were promoting wa da da

and like you’d just debuted too

so you had just done a stage and were on your way to your groups van to go back to the dorms

and you go to enter the first black van you see with an open door

and instead of your members you’re met with jake sunghoon sunoo!

you turned red immediately and ran in the other direction to actually find your van where yujin, yeseo, chaehyun, and hiyyih were waiting for you

you told your members and they thought it was so funny

but jokes on them

because the very next week, jake had accidentally walked into your waiting room at mcountdown

who’s laughing now!!! (you are)

after the incident, he found you and came to apologize for walking in

and you were like “ohhh that’s so funny because i actually was the one who came into your van last week!”

but after the apologies were exchanged, you two ended up walking around backstage anyways and just talking about anything and everything

after you and your members had to go perform, jake just waited for you backstage

and once you were done performing you came back and talked to him more ! yay !

but then soon enha had to go on to perform b-c and by the time he came back, your group had already left :’(

it’s okay though because you left your phone number on a post-it that said “FOR JAKE” in their waiting room

enhypen teased him so hard but he was like whatever at least i got her number

so he texted you like almost immediately

soon after, you two texted like all the time and started meeting backstage whenever it was possible

jake asked you out for the first time right before you went on stage to perform and obviously you said yes

but when you went to perform, your voice was such a bright red color that it went viral amongst kep1ians (and later other fandoms)

after that stage, jake and you just sat and talked in the kep1er waiting room for sooooo long

he’s literally the biggest fan of your group

like he’s so open and genuine about how much he likes your group, and he always somehow has one of your songs on his recommendation playlists

and those songs will somehow always be sandwiched between the most beautiful love songs ever and it makes engenes go 🤨🤨

you also are open about being a fan of them

so basically your fans and his have already put two and two together very quickly

but the suspicions were confirmed when he posted a late-night river view picture on weverse and then you posted something extremely similar a couple days later

winning the idgaf war about people finding out though

like he’s like DONTTTT CAREEEEE <3 MY GF

he actually thinks it’d be better if people knew so that no one would try anything on you because you’re taken

SUNGHOON ; 성훈

you were the seventh member of ive, also known as wonyoung’s group

and like wonyoung is your bff

she knew you found sunghoon cute from all the times you’d asked her if you could come visit her on music bank days

so she wanted to play matchmaker!

(love me not reference?!?!)

anyways

she gets “sick” once and is like “hey y/n why don’t you stand in for me?”

and you’re like “yeah sure whatever idc it’s chill”

it’s not chill

for reference, sunghoon also thought it was going to be chill, because he had no idea that you were standing in for wonyoung

little did wonyoung know, sunghoon also found you very attractive

ofc he would’ve tried to get your number through wonyoung, but he was too introverted to even think about it

so when you get there, both of your faces are pretty red, but your cheeks at least cool down by the time you’re recording

his do not 😭

he’s like sneaking looks at you and shit

he thought he was being so subtle too about it like bye 😭😭

but fans love the interactions!!!!

and they’re sooooo stoked to have jungwon sunoo and sunghoon on the radio that you host after the fact

sunghoon fucking DRESSES for the occasion too like damn

and like you made a point to be like “nice outfit”

on the outside he was like “yeah it’s whatever” but on the inside he was shitting his pants

anyways

and so you asked him for his number because you wanted “fashion tips” (you’re a liar)

so the first time he asks you out he’s like “let me style u an outfit”

and then while doing that he’s like “let’s date!”

and you’re like “well alright”

(jk u were just as stoked)

and dating him is so relieving

because you don’t have to keep the relationship (at least beyond friends) a secret

fans love the interactions

and so when you guys actually announce the relationship everyone is so hyped

like they already expected it

but still

he never misses an opportunity to talk about you on live or on a variety show

the interviewer is like “so, sunghoon, what was your favorite part of this comeback?”

he thinks for a second. then all of a sudden, “well y/n-”

like bro we get it

he just does not even care tho bc he’s so down bad

SUNOO ; 선우

okay now so remember when sunoo was a radio dj?

yeah

so you debuted in billlie, and your song, gingamingayo had just been released

and sunoo had heard it quite a few times already on his dj show

and he’s like “ok damn i get it let me look up the song”

he became a fan so quickly

like learned the choreo and everything

so the following week on the radio show he’s like “oh have you guys heard this song it’s so good actually i’m a fan of this group”

and then BOOM next week you’re on the show he radio djs for

chemistry between u guys went CRAZY

and then you filmed a tiktok together

and posted it like a week after the radio episode had gone viral

engenes and belllie’ves went crazy

you guys had already exchanged numbers at that point too

so getting to laugh about your fans freaking out was super fun to you two

you started visiting him at radio show schedules in secret after the fact

so he ends up asking you out about a month later

and ofc you say yes

so once you started dating, he would visit you at your schedules a lot

you would often pretend to be a staff member at the radio show so you could be there without raising much question

but then one time you were a “special guest” on the radio show again, and you filmed another tiktok, but this time it wasn’t like one of your group’s dance challenges

it was like a cute trend

so once you got the okay to post it, you did

this confirmed to engenes and belllie’ves that you were friends at the very least

he always finds a way to sing your songs on live

doesn’t ever sing when it’s your part though 🤨🤨🤨 it’s almost like he wants to hear your voice

one time he came to one of your fansigns “anonymously”

people found out it was him so quickly 😭

he’s so shameless about people knowing though

after that, fans basically already know you’re dating even if you don’t outright say anything

nobody actually cares though

they’re just waiting for that third y/noo tiktok 🙏

JUNGWON ; 정원

you debuted in illit, as a result of the belift survival show “r u next?”

you came in first place, just like jungwon did on i-land

so naturally, under the same sublabel, illit and enhypen passed each other quite frequently

you’ve actually interacted quite a bit with the other members

but for some reason, their leader was a bit standoffish to you

and you had absolutely no idea why he would be

you thought that maybe it was because you’d also come in first place on your respective survival show, so maybe he had one sided beef with you?

it didn’t make sense but that’s just what you assumed

actually ☝️🤓 jungwon had a big fat crush on you

and had no idea what to do about it

like he secretly supported you on r u next? and everything

so eventually, belift decides to make a variety show for illit and enha

as the first place winners, you two are paired together, along with your japanese maknaes, ni-ki and iroha

iroha and ni-ki were already acquainted, so iroha told ni-ki about how funny it was that you and jungwon were in the same group, given that jungwon hated you

and ni-ki’s like ?!

so he like goes up to jungwon and is like “she thinks you hate her bro”

he’s so embarrassed to find out that you thought he hated you

ni-ki teases him so hard about it

so eventually jungwon admits to you (off-camera) that he doesn’t hate you, and in fact he’s quite fond of you

it lifts the biggest weight off his chest when you also admit that you’re fond of him, and that he was your role model ever since you’d joined r u next?

after filming, you two exchange numbers

he’s such a baby like seriously how could you think he hated you

it doesn’t take long AT ALL for you to start dating

in fact hybe/belift encourages it because they think it’ll be good exposure for both groups

and it highkey is

in korea, you guys gain the title of “first place couple” and omgggg knetz eat that up

you’re invited on a ton of variety shows together

jungwon is sooooo so supportive and is lowkey a stan of your group

he like sends you your fancams and is like “teach me this dance pls”

when your two groups pass each other in the hallways, enha and illit always make it a point to tease you two

you guys don’t mind though because at least you have each other ☝️☝️

RIKI ; 니키

you debuted as the maknae of loona

so you’d been in the industry a few years longer than enhypen had

so riki knew of you, but you weren’t super familiar with them

but the both of you were invited onto a variety program for foreign idols

you ended up becoming more familiar with them after being paired together with riki for a couple challenges

one interaction you had made you two go completely viral after executing a twice choreography together extremely well

both bbc and belift saw this as an opportunity to make some money, so they kinda forced you and riki to get close

little did they know that’s what you both wanted anyways lol

so like you’ll have a live with him

or you’ll film a tiktok together

or you’ll post something together

etc

somewhere along the lines you two start dating in secret

namely after you two filmed a live together

and he saw one of the comments that said “y/n please do perfect idol challenge” and you started doing the perfect idol dance on live

you started giggling because you started to forget the dance because you were embarrassed and he was smiling like a fucking maniac and then he realized he really really liked you more than a friend

and so soon after he didn’t wanna waste any more time and he just confessed that he liked you

and you were like “no way me too!!!!”

(everyone could tell)

it wasn’t super in secret though

because belift/bbc had that “bffs for life” image for you two

so you could interact freely

it just took every bone in riki’s body to not grab your hand and pull you into his arms during a dance live

but then womp womp

dispatch exposes you guys like four months into the relationship

no one cares though (except delulu fans)

so when you terminate your contract with bbc for the mistreatment, engenes beg you to audition for hybe/belift because they’re afraid if you go somewhere else you won’t be able to interact freely with him anymore and they love your interactions

you end up joining ctd, which is the company of one of the post-loona acts, along with five of your ex-members

luckily ctd is a good company so they let you and riki still stay together and still have your lives

one time riki was doing a weverse live and you showed up

and fans absolutely LOVED it

ctd is an unknown company so they unexpectedly got a lot more sales with this relationship

they were like DAMN OK

anyways

you guys teach each other your choreos A LOT

like a lot

riki eats them up so bad like fans start saying he’s the seventh member of your group 😭

a/n : had to include illit in this somehow i love them they’re so cute. sorry for the lack of posts i am sooooooo fucking busy and this was in the drafts for forever

[siberian-xanadu]

Hiii it's Violet misses her friend again hours!!! I hope you don't mind this little story I'm going to share, because it's something I think of every time I find myself in this state lol. So, back in January, around the New Year, I was hanging out in my sister's room after my friend had logged off for the night. It was only about seven or eight o'clock here, but he's 5 hours ahead of me, so it was around midnight to one in the morning there. This is important.

One thing you should know about me, for context, is that I've moved and changed school districts twice in my life. I moved in fifth grade from one school district to another, and then again between eighth and ninth grade. It's been hard to keep in contact with people from either district throughout high school.

So, my sister is scrolling on social media, and she finds the account of my elementary school classmate's sister, who announced my old classmate's death. Now, I wasn't particularly close with this kid; I spoke with him a couple times in elementary school, being in the same fourth grade class, but his mother was my fifth grade teacher (until I moved). What I do remember is that he was always nice to me, and his mother was a nice woman as well.

To be honest, it took me a moment to set in that this person from my childhood was now dead. In fact, it's been a few months and I'm not entirely sure if it has set in yet. It was a strange feeling. It is a strange feeling. Even though I hadn't seen him in six or seven years, and wasn't even that close in the first place, I knew that we were supposed to be starting our lives, not ending them in car wrecks.

So, in my shock, I messaged my friend on discord because I didn't really know how to react, or what else to do. I knew that we had said our goodnights about an hour before, and wasn't really expecting a response, but to my surprise, he got back to me within ten minutes.

Another thing you should know about me is that my standards for relationships (platonic in this case) are in turbo hell. I never really had a solid group of friends growing up, due to being neurodivergent and moving around a lot, and I certainly never got to the point where I would tell one of my friends about this.

And he got back to me within ten minutes. Not only that, even though he said he wouldn't be able to talk to me that night, he said that was because he wanted to help me in the way I deserved, and that he was thinking of me and that he loved me. What the fuck??? Like I said, my standards are in literal hell. This guy, that I met on this fucking hellsite that I've never met in person is a better friend to me than anyone I've known irl. Which is... sort of pathetic on my part, I suppose? But I guess it's also beautiful in a way; how two people can connect across oceans.

The story doesn't end there, however. The next day, true to his word, he sends me a "care package" (his words, not mine) of concert videos of all my favorite bands. I was in the middle of class when he sent it over, and I was, honestly, completely shocked. I don't think I'll ever forget that kindness. We had a long conversation that night over lots of things, partially about my classmate, partially about whatever we were talking about, but I think that's when I knew I finally had something real.

One last thing you should about me, and it's sort of a combination of moving a lot, never really forming solid friendships, and some issues with my mother (that is a whole 'nother can of worms) is that I have some anxiety around abandonment. I recognize it for what it is now, and do my best to not let it interfere with my relationships, but sometimes I do get anxious, and start trying to mentally prepare myself for the end of a relationship (romantic or platonic). So, I have to recognize I'm spiraling and I have to fight it off. Rereading those messages always grounds me and reminds me that it's all in my head.

I really didn't intend to write this much, but whatever! I feel it's got a good message, I think.

[carmenlire]

I've had this taegyu idea floating around since january but I'll readily admit that it is extremely similar to httbt so like on one hand I am absolutely a reader who often thinks "man I wanna read what I just read but new" plus it's in an entirely different fandom but on the other hand like it's literally rockstar beomgyu and probably math teacher taehyun (or maybe grad student, potentially gym owner?).

(lowkey i ended up like fully plotting out the fic/recapping my twt thread so i'm putting the rest under a cut lol.)

like whereas alec was a top 40 sensation solo pop artist, very much channeling biggest name in the industry, beomgyu would be frontman for an indie/niche band (honestly i'm picturing chase atlantic 100% whereas alec was like a tswift) but his band still sells out its tours and is somewhere on the charts, making a very respectable sum.

Beomgyu is feeling ennui, uninspired, very jaded but in a more. . . angsty way than alec? i imagine this fic to be darker/more emotional than httbt with A Big Conflict towards the end where one of them severely fucks up in classic fic fashion.

of course, i've already thought of the opening scene and it makes me realize how totally predictable i am because it's an extremely late night/early morning run-in where taegyu are obviously at very different points in their lives but they have A Conversation and it's the first time beomgyu has felt interested/intrigued by something in forever and taehyun-- actually here's a difference-- he actually has no idea who beomgyu/his band is. beomgyu, ofc, likes that. taehyun just sees a hot guy who's a little fucked up but aren't we all.

looking at my twt thread, i talk a lot about how during that first meeting, beomgyu talks a lot in half-truths, unsure if he can trust taehyun and taehyun is just blunt as always, very no bullshit. they both walk away feeling amped up-- beomgyu feels a little bit like he got an ass kicking, a breath of fresh air and taehyun is intrigued in his own way about this guy who's full of contradictions.

they keep running into each other at the park at these really intimate hours (beomgyu clearing his head/going out whenever there's less of a chance of him being seen and taehyun on his morning runs). eventually one morning, the sun is shining when they both look up and taehyun recommends a lowkey breakfast spot he knows nearby.

despite there clearly being something between them, beomgyu isn't in a place to be in a relationship and taehyun is up front about what he wants/needs and they both respect the other. of course, that doesn't stop them from growing closer until they're like best friends.

constantly texting, both of them start to depend on the other-- on their phone calls, a few minutes of stolen time, on finding the most out of the way restaurants with the best samgyeopsal.

everyone around them knows Something's going on even if taegyu remain infuriatingly tightlipped, both of them wanting to protect this thing between them. the secret relationship aspect is a lot more illicit in this than it was in httbt-- there might not be tabloids to worry about but beomgyu's had a lot of years in the business to grow jaded even if he wishes he could be as open as taehyun. There are some growing pains even if they are both fully invested/committed, even if beomgyu loves being with taehyun and can't get enough.

i'm picturing a classic fic blow-up thanks to beomgyu's rockstar past (?) clashing with taehyun's firm stance on open communication and no bullshit (the blow-up is nothing out of the usual for fic but bc i tend to really love Healthy Communication, i've never written this kinda conflict before but i do think it'll actually fit this au setup and not merely be an excuse for angst lol).

anyway, they totally break up over That Mess and cue beomgyu losing it a little. he gets drunk, writes songs about taehyun, implicitly dedicates those songs to him on stage. he hooks up with someone and feels fucking awful.

he ends up eventually (let's be real they'll probably only be broken up for like a month bc i can't do too much angst lol) doing some soul searching/reflecting on the past months with taehyun and realizing the error of his ways (and even as he was doing it, he was kicking himself bc he didn't even mean the words, he didn't wanna hurt taehyun but his mouth just started without his brain and heart's input rip).

meanwhile taehyun is totally heartbroken (while he seems fine on social media he's kinda falling apart irl) but he was always up front about what he needed from beomgyu if they were gonna do this and he won't bend his own needs and worth just to be with beomgyu.

obviously happy ending!!!! and you know i'll have to include some serious established relationship fluff to make up for all the pain :')

all of which to say..... like i know the premise is very similar to httbt and i feel like there's even more of a spotlight on it since it is obviously my most prolific work (which did also come from a chase atlantic song lmao) but there are differences too???? so like i should just write what i want right?? like especially because i'm worried about being too close to my own work, like it doesn't even matter? and there are some key differences? idk :( i just know i really like the idea.

[anarkali-disco-chali]

ok so yeahh let's continue.

So, one day I asked him for his Instagram password and he gave me. His name is pavan tho. So, like I insisted him to give me his password and yes he gave me and in return I gave him my password. I have nothing to hide so I gave. While looking at his dm, a text came from a girl she was the girl he broke up with, she texted,'' haan?? aagyi m ab bolo''. When I opened the chat there was literally nothing but just that last text. (like puri chat khali and ye ky h?)

I was like who is she?? and why is she texting you?? and why is she saying like this??

He said, well tbh I don't wanna hide anything so she was sending me her nudes and we had a sex chat. I was like oh okk- nvm. And didn't talked to him he did everything to convience me so finally I agreed.

So we were talking about that he said, '' you won't believe but I actually have had sex with a hoe''. My reaction was so shocked and idk what i was feeling. He said that was my past let it be naa trust me i won't do anything again like this.

So, after that during July things were wrong with me and my parents took away my mobile phone. I was like okay so I use to talk to him at night and early morning like 3-4:30 in the morning I use to wake up so early and he use talk for hours. We both have to wait so long to talk to each other. Later on I saw, he was losing interest with me may be because of lack of conversation.

Months were passing.. julyy... August... September....

And here it comes, one day he texted me,'' mujhse itna attach mt ho mujhe waise bhi e relationship ni chahiye''. I was all numb and replied,"ok".

And BLOCKED him*

The other day I shamelessly texted him like a 10 y/o immature child who has lost his favourite toy.

"Why are you doing this?? YK i can't live without you, you have became my habit and i can't even think living without you, if you had to do this then first point per he mujhe apne aap se itna attached ni karna tha. He started pointing at my flaws and made me feel that it's all my fault.

Days passed but ofc i can't even forget him, everyday all I hoped was just one text from him, later i saw him matching pfp with an e girl.

I was like ok-

I literally tried every possible way to bring him back and yeah one day he came back but things Weren't the same i was constantly trying to fix things and he was constantly trying to ruin it all.

And here it comes he left again. ik I was so stupid but I was(am) so in love with him.

Now, this time when he left I heard it from some of his friends that he has a real life gf and he's busy so i just stopped doing everything (trying to being him back in my life)

on 31 dec 2022,

he texted me again, I tried my best to not to fall again (being a sigma female chad) but somehow I again fallen for him and confessed what I feel. He said he was sorry for what he did leaving me for other girls. And said he won't hurt me or leave me ever again.

on 1 Jan 2023,

at night we talked for hours after so long.

omg take me back to 1st January lol

So, things were basically going right he told me about his exes how toxic they were (less toxic than him tho) but I was happy that he is back finally and I'll hold him a little tighter and not let him go away but things don't go as we want.

Jitna I tried to hold him,

utna he was trying to leave.

so, i stopped doing that. One day i.e, 11 Jan we had a little fight and that's when we parted away.

he said-

So, this was now about my self respect and I said aggressively,'' I'll never ever text you again, mark my fucking words ''.

I actually did it, omg i was so proud of myself.

I rid myself of toxicity and everything, now I'm healing but actually happy tho. I won't let him ruin things again. Now the thing is that the girl who use to gave him nudes was his gf and he never broke up with her. Like how can people be so selfish???

But deep down I still have a soft corner for him idk why may be because I saw a soft side of him that nobody saw even if that was fake-

We did so many stupid things together omg i swear.

IDC but I'm done with him.

(he never asked me for nudes or sex chat) the good thing about him. We weren't made for each other, just for a small part that left a huge mark on my life.

His birthday is on 27 Feb and i really wanna wish him but I want to stick on my words. (advice do)

[astrobei]

Hello Suni astrobei. For end of year asks, I ask you 2 and 12

hi abby strangeswift !! ok so i got a couple asks for 2 so i’m going to answer that one elsewhere so i can focus my full attention on Gushing !

12. talk about a new friend you made this year

ok i’m about to get seriously so sappy so if you don’t feel like reading through all this feel free to Leave (no hard feelings LOL)

i’m someone who has a pretty small social circle irl so i never thought i’d meet so many wonderful ppl this year, and definitely not online and definitely not because i started writing fanfiction again LOL like if u told january suni this she’d look at u like 👁👁 on a more serious note though this year was insane for me. so much changed really quickly in my life and i’m so beyond grateful that amidst all the chaos i was led to all of u guys ! literally if we’ve had even one conversation on here there’s a very high chance i’ve referred to u as a friend irl so. do with that what u will.

abby and ella (@elekinetic) and sierra (@finalgirlbyers) i want u guys to know that i treasure u all So Much. like even if our convos are sporadic or if we talk exclusively through asks ur presence on my dash brings me so much joy and i look forward to each post u make and each message and each ask and each incoherent ramble in the tags !! i don’t have Favorite Mutuals but if i did it would be u guys because it’s insane how much i light up seeing ur urls ! i hope 2023 brings so many more wonderful interactions w u guys, u rly make my mindless scrolling on tumblr 100x more fun

yvie @nnilkyway HELLO i am so so beyond grateful i met them this year ! what a strange stroke of luck too bc i was so obsessed w their art before we met and hearing him say he was a big fan of my work was like. mind boggling. anyways yvie is literally one of the funniest people i have ever met in my life oh my god it’s so rare for me to find people whose sense of humor just Clicks with mine but like. four messages in and we were sending each other memes and becoming best friends and it was fantastic! i have never once felt weird or intimidated talking to them which is crazy for me, a person who feels weird and intimidated a Lot, and also need i reiterate his INSANE TALENT !! like holy shit ! my go to person for talking about gf mike wheeler or mitski or literally just anything and everything. yvie if you’re reading this i am putting u in my pocket and holding u so close. mwah. also we are married, btw. if anyone cares.

haven @bookinit02 OK. you all have heard me gush about haven a million and one times on this blog and i’m sure you’ve seen her gush about me because she’s (rightfully) obsessed with me (/j. kind of) but haven was the first friend i ever made in the byler community which is so so beyond insane to me. i fell in love with her writing so instantaneously and you guys should’ve been there to see my reaction when i saw her leave her first comment on my fic. literally screamed it was so embarrassing 😭 we talked exclusively through ao3 comments for a while because she’d yell every time i updated ihcisc and i’d yell every time she updated her season 2 rewrite and then one day she dm’d me asking me to make a twt to add me to a byler gc and the rest was History. anyways haven is one of the most talented most creative people i’ve ever met BUT she’s also one of the sweetest and most compassionate people on the face of this planet and deserves nothing but good things always ! she’s one of those people that i need to talk to every day or i’ll go insane and i love how our convos can speedrun the entire human spectrum of emotions within like. 5 minutes. she’s so incredibly supportive and my #1 hype girl and she has the freaky ability to entirely turn my mood around on a bad day in less than 20 seconds. she literally managed to sleuth around and find my venmo just to send me soup money. if i could buy her Everything then i literally would. i would eat cilantro for her. i would watch the mlvn makeout scene for her. i would get my socks wet for her. literally i would do anything for her and i can’t wait until i see her in june and i chase her in circles around the airport and then we kiss👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽 and we Hug so tight and platonically 🫂

thea @wiseatom u already know. i tell her every day that i would do literally anything she asked of me and it’s true! literally 2 minutes ago she said “suni u should dye ur hair green” and for a moment i seriously considered it. anyways thea is objectively the funniest fucking person i have ever met in my life and is also my twin. if my twin were blond and taller and also a different age. in all seriousness though thea feels like the world’s most insane older sister to me and as an Actual older sister i’m really loving the feral little sibling treatment. she’s so insane easy to talk to (probably bc our brains work in the exact same way) and Oozes talent from literally every single cell in her body. she sends me a snippet of her work and i spend the next 10 minutes rolling on the floor trying not to SCREAM. there are so few people who can make me laugh as much as she does but also turn me into a blubbering mess of a baby with her Evil Cruel Prose 2 seconds later but thea wiseatom has been put on this planet to achieve the impossible. i have rarely felt so seen as i do when i talk to her, whether it’s for advice or Wallowing or complaining about our disproportionately large heads together, she is so kind and supportive and one of my favorite people Ever. i can’t believe the universe put her 3000 miles away from me because i Need to be a menace to her in person but we’ll make it work. every day i say goodnight to her at 8 pm my time and then say good morning to her at 2 am my time and then i go to bed <3 thea if you’re reading this (and u better be. i tagged u) i hope u know that u are the light of my life and i am packing my bindle as we speak to begin the cross country trek. mwah.

@andiwriteordie ANDI ! i miss talking to u every day but u are so busy with ur big girl job and cranking out quality fics at light speed so i’ll give u a pass 😔 andi is literally a legend in the byler fic community so when i found out she Knew Who I Was,,, i died. i literally died. even when we haven’t talked in a while i love how we can pick up a convo like nothing has changed or send posts that remind us of each other or go crazy apeshit in each others tags like there’s no tomorrow !! andi is so so inspirational to me, she is so kind and creative and full of positivity (even if her writing is mean and full of Sadness and Misery. still haven’t forgiven u for descent, btw) she feels like my other older sister and she has such an insane way with words that i will never understand ! thank u for singlehandedly keeping byler tumblr going, i hope 2023 is so kind to u and u get ultra promoted and have so much fun at the eras tour like u deserve <3

moon aka @smoosnoom omg ok not only is moon so crazy talented but she is such! a sweet person! back when i started writing for byler she was such an enigma to me, an ao3 user and a total Mystery, so i never expected us to actually talk and now! here we are! she is so uplifting and supportive and i’ve loved getting to know her over the past few months, whether it’s bonding over our shared hatred (affectionate. mostly) of finn wolfhard or bawling our eyes out to everything everywhere (oh my god.) seeing her comment on my first fic literally made my heart stop dead in my chest. she has such a gift for making everyone feel so immediately accepted and welcome in any space, and i will spend the rest of my life stewing in anger that she’s taller than me. that feels extremely, unfathomably illegal. anyway moon if ur reading this (and u also better be! bc i tagged u!!) i hope the new year is so good to u <3 mwah ily

[redwinterroses]

For the road trip, on a personal note (and thus the separate ask so feel free to delete or what have you): I noticed the Christian description in the bio and out of curiosity as a Christian myself, were you raised as such? Did you convert later in life (either to a different denomination or Christianity as a whole)?

I guess I'm just asking about your testimony because I like hearing them. :) BUT I get it if you don't want to share or if I've misunderstood your bio lol

In any case have a safe trip today!

This ask makes me so happy, but I'm going to stick it under a cut due to general conversation of religion and some religious trauma. :)

So -- first off, sorry for taking so long to answer this. I'm like an infant with no object permanence as far as asks go. The minute I look away it ceases to exist, lol.

But! Answering now.

Yup, there's Christian in my bio. I'm not very in-your-face about it but I occasionally mention church or my pastor's wife or something on stream. I think I started humming a hymn the other day before I caught myself lol.

My dad's a pastor, and I was raised in church. Literally. Like -- every time there was an event, and half the time when there wasn't: I was at the church. We lived next door to the church(es) most of the time, and in later years we would sometimes go spend the day there in the summer because the church had AC and our house did not. XD

But yeah: churches. Plural. Being a PK is no bed of roses -- we were chased out of one church by an assistant pastor who bullied the congregation and scared them into "asking" my dad to resign, and in another my then-best-friend's mom led a ring of conspiracy theorists who thought Dad was part of a cult out to take over the world. (I wish I was exaggerating. I'm legitimately not.) We were forced out of our house (because the church owned it) two weeks before Christmas, no one from that church would speak to us ever again, and though I still live relatively close to that town I refuse to drive through it.

I'd lived in ~8 different houses before I was 12, and that particular event ended with us being homeless for 8 months and living in my grandad's basement. it was bad, I still have nightmares about it 20-ish years later, and I've legitimately blocked out a large portion of that year from my memory -- which can lead to some fun discussions sometimes with parents or sibs who remember something I don't.

And because of all that, I... don't have a lot of trust in the church, as an organization. I teased my dad the other day that, frankly, he's lucky all of us didn't ditch the whole shebang. He didn't laugh, actually. He agreed.

These days I'm dealing with what certain circles call "deconstruction" -- dunno how in on Current Popular Christian Lingo you are, but basically I'm going through the (very arduous, very stressful, often very emotional) process of picking apart everything I've ever been taught and trying to evaluate what's really true, what's just tradition, and what's outright wrong. So my testimony is kind of just starting, honestly. I don't have any dramatic conversion story (though I was baptized in January in a church where they forgot to turn on the heater in the baptistry so that's a vivid memory XD) but I'm in the middle of some kind of reformation, rediscovering the beauty and hope of my faith, and we'll have to see what comes out the other side.

Sooooo... yeah. That's the answer there. Probably a bit heavier than you were expecting, so sorry about that. :) Being a Christian on this webbed site isn't exactly... a popular option, so I feel a leeeeettle defensive about the faith that I've worked dang hard to keep and am working even harder to grow like some stunted little bonsai tree LOL.

But thank you so much for the question! And we had a lovely and safe trip back, so thanks for those well-wishes too. <3

[doueverwonder]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you'd like to know better!

@betty-bourgeoisie awwww thanks for the tag!

What book are you currently reading?

The Librarian of Auschwitz by Antonio Iturbe, it's a 'based off true events' about a prisoner in Auschwitz named Dita Kraus, who was in charge of hiding the few books they had snuck into the family camp. On top of obviously awareness of what it was like in the concentration camps for the Jewish prisoners, it also pays attention to the LGBTQ+, Mentally disabled, and Romani, groups I feel are usually overlooked when talking about WW2.

What's your favorite movie you saw in theaters this years?

uhhh I only saw 2, but ngl that Everything Everywhere All At Once was pretty damn good.

What do you usually wear?

Jeans and a t-shirt with a button up or hoodie over top. And Converse everyday lol I own like eight pairs right now, I wear them everywhere. (I also have my grandma sweater collection but I haven't been able to wear them much this year)

How tall are you?

5'6-ish

What's your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

I'm a cancer, I got a full thing from one of my friends once but tbh I don't remember what it said and I don't feel like digging through my texts to find it.

I share a birthday with Michael Phelps, in 1936 on my birthday Gone With The Wind was published. (if you meant year had to match too then nothing happened lol)

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

Well, my name is Theodore but I got by Theo, does that count?

Did you grow up to be become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Well uhhh,,, I'm sixteen haha. But actually yeah, I've wanted to be a lawyer since I was eleven, but before that I really wanted to work in a bakery and as of right now I work in a bakery. So technically yeah.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

eyyyy this applies to my username; so if you read my description it says Lotus is my girlfriend. That's not actually correct, I'm aroace; and Lotus is technically my best friend, but we're like rlly rlly close and have both admitted 'hey you're the only person I could see spending my life with' so we like referring to each other as more then friends. So yes, but no?

What's something you're good at vs. something you're bad at?

I am good at buying the right presents for people, I'm terrible at baking cakes. (Yes. I am aware I just said I work in a bakery, I work up front)

Dogs or Cats?

Not to be that person, but neither, rats.

What's something you would like to create content for?

Fun fact I am in literally zero fandoms besides Hetalia, so uh nothing.

What's something you're currently obsessed with?

The Germanic peoples. I watched 1 video in second grade about the Anglo-Saxons and my brain went ohohohohohoh you are never going to be able to let this go. And it was right.

What's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

getting my GED, it's less 'getting it was disappointing' and more 'I'm disappointed bc the government makes it insanely hard to even find info on so I literally can't get it and that makes me sad bc I was excited about starting college in January'

Are you religious?

Yes, I'm Christian. Don't ask denomination bc I as a statement don't like the idea of denominations I don't think Jesus would have liked them either.

What's something you wish to have at this moment?

More tea, I had tea, I drank it all, I want more.

@helv-ete & @queen-adelheid

sorry if one of you two have done it already!

[bunnisdumbbrain]

Dear diary,

There’s so much to talk about here and I have no clue where to start. I’ve never been the best at journaling (only because if there was ever an error on the paper I’d want to rip the page out and start all over) so this seems to be the best option LOL. I think I just want to use this as a place to vent frustrations or keep up with myself, quite literally as a diary. I’m still debating on whether I want to mention this on my main blog only because this is definitely more personal haha. We’ll see.

Anyways, 2023 was such a shit year for me omfg. Let’s see: got into a huge argument with my boyfriend on my graduation day, birthday bonfire was ruined, had to put down my rescue dog due to his aggression :(, boyfriend gave me a relationship ultimatum, spent months wondering why I wasn’t enough, and then ended the 7 year relationship. Sounds like a sob story HAHA, but fuck that year sucked.

My friends have been my biggest support system though. I love them so so much and they are amazing for putting up with me constantly. Also they always agree to go traveling with me <3 I have never traveled as much as I have within the past two months than the past 3 years. I’ve somehow managed to talk my best friends into traveling to New York with me soon so I’m super excited for that. Hopefully I can meet the cute mustache man of my dreams there LOL.

Also, being single is so new to me still!! I was dating my ex since I was 15 so being single at 22 feels so strange! I know for sure I’m not emotionally ready for another relationship at the moment, nor am I looking for one, but I do miss the aspects of a relationship. Like the causal hanging out and kissing LOL. (Maybe I need a friend who I can kiss occasionally) For some reason in January, I ended up downloading bumble (dumbass alert!!) and boy was that shit a doozy. Some are of the guys on there were cute [especially if they had a mustache] but it just was not for me. I also felt like if I did end up meeting anyone in person for a date it be awkward to mention that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. My bumble account lasted 1 1/2 weeks.

Moving on, I think I like talking to people online atm just because nothing comes of it. I can be flirty and no harm done, but boy is it hard to find people I’m genuinely interested in talking to. It gives me such an ick if someone is overly sexual all the time. I get it’s fun occasionally but if I can’t have a casual conversation with you then no thank you!!! I was talking to this one guy on here (which was dumb on my part because this is tumblr) and we had good conversations (plus he was hot) but it would turn me off as soon as he’d ask for pics, especially after I’ve said no. Ended up blocking him </3 (rest in peace).

I’m in no shape or form wanting to send pics OF ANY KIND (unless they’re cute lil selfies) at the moment anyways. I do not feel good in my body and I’d rather rip my eyeballs out then let someone see me naked (a little extreme but my point stands).

Speaking about my body though, I’m wanting to focus on bettering myself this year! I think there’s definitely a lot of things I’ve been slacking on this year and am wanting to change. My weight is my biggest obstacle at the moment. All I can do is workout and eat better though to fix that (have I been doing it? kind of). I just need better accountability!!! Also I need to stop eating out so often. I’m on the fence about not watching porn though LOL. I think I’ve watched it like every other day for the past few months. Maybe it’s bad for me but idk I just like to c*m.

I think I’ll be updating this every week or every other week? I’m terrible at keeping a routine so who knows. I’m planning on going to the gym tomorrow so, fingers crossed.

Sincerely,

Bunni

[deepestperfectiondragon]

September 25, 2023

Well shit, it's been a while since I've posted here and A LOT has happened since. But since my mental health has started to be a lot worse again I figured writing would help. So here I am.

So me and my boyfriend have been together for a year now, it was actually our one year the other day. Let me tell you, we definitely got past the honeymoon stage LOL. Don't get me wrong though I wouldn't trade him for the world, but we have had our ups and downs for sure (like any relationship). Me and him have both said some stupid shit or done some stupid shit to each other, but we've also gotten to know each other a lot more and work through all the hard times together which in my opinion only brought us closer in the end. Things have been good with him lately, we've been trying to work as a team again and it feels good. But on our 1 year his best friend passed away from an overdose, it's only been a week since but thing have been hard for both of us, more so him obviously. Just seeing him hurting makes me hurt, I've been trying to be there for him, I know he's had some moments where it may have gotten a little taken out on me but at the same time that's what I'm here for, he apologized afterwards and it's not like I don't understand the anger that comes with losing someone that meant a lot to you. Our relationship has kind of been put on hold for now I feel, but it's okay because I want him to grieve. For example our one year we didn't really celebrate, we haven't been having sex, we haven't really done much of anything, once again I'm not complaining, just hope we can come out of this stronger because the last thing I want is for this to affect us negatively. My cousin who passed away has been on my mind lately, her 5 year anniversary since she passed is on Friday, which makes this even harder for me because I'm having to support him while supporting myself all on my own. I'll get through it, but damn it's been hard. Friday is his friends funeral, and I had plans with my family for my cousins anniversary. I want to be there for him but I figured I haven't been able to grieve at all since his friends passing, and on that day I think to take some time and let it all out might be the smart thing to do for myself, I offered to go with him but he understands that it's a hard day for me as well and to go be with my family. I feel bad, but at the same time I know he won't be alone and I've been nothing but supportive to him all week.

On the other hand, things with my family have been weird as well. i have never felt so distanced from them all, I'm not sure if I did something, but everyone has been treating me like I have. I can't even get a conversation in with my dad, he acts awkward and distant and sometimes doesn't even reply back, he just keeps his face in his phone or replies with a couple words. My mom only reaches out to me when she wants money. My brother went on a trip and I haven't seen him since like I offered. Shits just weird right now, BUT I got to meet my new niece! My best friend just had her baby and I couldn't be happier. She is so adorable, and I am so excited she's here. I cannot believe that she's a mom now and I'm an auntie <3.

Things with school have been weird as well, I literally made one of the stupidest decisions of my life. I switched from massage to child and youth care, and I should of just stuck with massage. Child and youth is so overwhelming and I know my heart is in the right place, but my brain cannot handle it. I feel so drained since I started placement. I have no energy left in me with everything going on and dealing with these kids all day long. So I figured I'm going to use the credits I already have and switch back to massage next year. If I can't get in for January, it won't hurt to work and save up some money till next September as I won't be able to work summers for the next 2 years. I like to think I have a smart plan now, but no one has really validated that yet. Guess I'll just figure it out for myself and prove them all wrong haha. Honestly though. It's time I start living for me, no one else. Life is too short to try and figure out what everyone else wants me to do, if they don't like what I'm doing, there's literally nothing forcing them to stay in my life. SO tired of fake ass people.

But ya lol, that's kind of an update of where I'm at right now. I like to think I'm doing better with this whole life thing than I would of been before. I honestly am at the point where I don't care what anyone thinks of me, I want to make myself happy now. I spent too many years trying to please everyone else and it was pretty much impossible and got me no where. Time to focus on me for real this time.

[gukyi]

if i told you | jjk

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

{friends to lovers!au, college!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, angst, we’ve got it all folks word count: 22k warnings: slightly underage alcohol consumption, mention of words that could be spoken on an crime documentary series but nothing graphic, ravioli-stealing, idiots to lovers, as per usual a/n: finally! here is the long awaited jungkook fic that i have literally been slaving over since the beginning of january. was this fic supposed to be 10k? yes. did i somehow end up writing 22k anyway? of course! in any case, please enjoy my absolute baby who i love and cherish!

check out the post-script drabble here!

Jeon Jungkook loses his job at the university call center on the seventeenth day of the fall semester of his sophomore year. 

You know this because on the seventeenth day of the fall semester of your sophomore year, he comes banging on the door of your apartment shared with three other girls at 2:07PM, seven minutes after he normally starts his job at the university call center. 

He’s lucky that you’re the only one who doesn’t have class in the 2PM hour. 

“Y/N!” He shouts through the thin wooden door, his voice probably echoing down the thin hallway of your apartment complex. 

You open it before the second knock—you only rush to the door to get him to shut the fuck up, and not because you’re excited to see him, you swear—to see him standing on the other side, XXL university hoodie draped over his figure, down to his mid-thigh, baggy hood pulled over his head like a sad college-aged Star Wars character. He looks exactly like a jaded sophomore year college student would. He is beautiful. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the call center right now?” You ask in lieu of a normal “hello” or even a “what the fuck are you doing here, it’s 2PM”. Jungkook does not wait for you to invite him inside your apartment, immediately kicks off his shoes by the entrance and tugs on your apartment slippers that are a size-and-a-half too small for his feet, and marches over to your shared fridge to fish through the tupperware containers with your name written on Post-it notes for a mid-afternoon snack. 

Jungkook waits until he’s got an entire piece of frozen supersized ravioli shoved into his mouth before he responds. “I was fired,” he says over a mouthful of pasta and cheese.

“What?” You ask, eyes widening as Jungkook shuffles through your kitchen drawers for a fork, which means that the first piece of ravioli that he ate he did so with his bare ass hands. Like a heathen. Like a ravioli-craving twenty-year-old heathen. 

“I was fired,” Jungkook repeats. He stares at the microwave resting on your kitchen counter for a good ten seconds before he continues to eat the cold, unheated pasta. Every time he’s in your apartment (which is frequently), he tells you how it’s a fire, water, and explosive hazard to have your microwave on the counter like that. As if there is any other place in your apartment for it to go. Maybe out on the tiny balcony you have that overlooks the busiest street on campus. 

“Care to offer an explanation as to why?” You ask, coming up next to him. Jungkook is nearly finished with your tupperware of ravioli, and normally you’d shout at him for it, but seeing as he was just fired from his only source of income as a money-starved college student, you’ll cut him some slack. Just a little. 

“You remember that old, angry alumnus that told me that asking for donations in order to benefit low-income-slash-first generation students was selfish and rude of me, and that I wouldn’t be in college if it weren’t for what his generation accomplished?” Jungkook asks. 

You remember that vividly. Jungkook spent an approximate two hours and thirty-seven minutes on FaceTime with you ranting about this one “old man bitch” who he had to speak to during his day at work, all while you did your economics problem set to the sweet, mellifluous sound of Jungkook’s shrill shrieks. 

“The one you lost your temper at and shouted at for being ungrateful and elitist?” You ask pointedly. You have a feeling you already know where this conversation is going. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. He finishes the ravioli (goddamnit, now you’re going to have to find something else to eat for dinner at 11PM tonight) and turns around to place it in the sink. For once, it is not piled high with dishes from up to a week ago, so Jungkook even squirts a bit of Dawn onto a sponge and washes the plastic container for you. “Well, as it turns out, telling an old racist elitist that he’s old, racist, and elitist does not go down well with my boss.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” you muse. Jungkook sighs, walking over to where you’re taking it easy on the couch. “Oh no,” you say, eyes widening as he grins, plotting something. “Do not, Jungkook. Jungkook, do not!”

He jumps, catapulting himself onto the couch and landing on top of you with a thud. You let out a groan as the weight of his body hits you, foreheads nearly knocking into each other. Jungkook is a good foot-and-a-half too long for this dinky leather couch that’s always sort of smelled, feet and ankles hanging off the opposing arm rest just so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of your shoulder like he always does. You hate when he does this. Hate when he jumps onto the couch while you’re casually reclining just so he can collapse on top of you. Hate the feeling of his body resting against yours, soft breathes against the skin of your neck. Hate how it always makes you want more, how it will never be enough. 

“Have you been working out?” You mumble against the fabric of his t-shirt. “You’re more muscle-y than usual.”

“I added weights to my routine,” Jungkook tells you mindlessly. If your roommates walked into your apartment right now and saw the both of you on the couch, you’d never hear the end of it. “Taehyung said it would make me more swole.”

“As if you need to be any more buff,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook’s the most athletic person you’ve ever met in your entire life. He could probably pick up your dinky couch with you sitting on it without batting an eyelash. Even Superman would tremble at the sight of him. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters into your skin. “God, what the fuck am I gonna do now? I need money to pay for everything in my life and my one source of income is now totally invalid because an old guy got what he deserved.”

“Are there any work-study positions still available?” You ask, hand reaching up to stroke at his hair, smoothing it down. Jungkook’s preferred cuddling position is big spoon, but he still demands that he be coddled as though he were the little spoon. 

“No,” Jungkook says with a huff, “they’ve all been snagged by try-hard freshmen who need money like me.”

“I distinctly recall you being a try-hard freshman who also needed money,” you tell him. “That’s why you applied to work at the call center, isn’t it?”

Jungkook sits up, the weight of his figure crushing your legs as he rests on top of them. If you stayed like this forever, you’d probably lose feeling in your lower body, but you’d also get to stay with Jungkook forever, which is a trade-off you would genuinely consider. “Yeah, but the call center hires everybody. You just need to be like… decent at communication. And I’m pretty decent at communication.”

“You never text me back,” you tell him pointedly. 

“That’s because I prefer showing up unannounced at your apartment or other places you frequent,” Jungkook reminds you excitedly. He’ll never let you forget about the time you were wrapping up a small seminar with your history professor and Jungkook burst through the doors with a whole thing of carrots and hummus because you had texted him that you were hungry. You could not look your history professor in the eye for the rest of the semester. “I’d say that’s pretty decent communication.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure out another way to market your decent communication skills to get another job,” you tell him. “Have you considered the boba place on Oak? You could get me employee discounts.”

Jungkook leans over just to pinch at your cheek, fingers gripping onto your face and pulling like a grandmother. “You just want me for my money.”

“You’re my best friend, Jeon Jungkook,” you tell him. “Of course I do.”

This is what Jeon Jungkook’s obligatory university Facebook group introduction post read:

Hi, I’m Jungkook and I’m thinking of majoring in visual studies or computer science (really different lol I know)! I played soccer in high school but don’t think I’ll be continuing in college because I was pretty bad at it. I’m looking for a roommate and I’d really like to live in New East House, but anything works for me as long as it has a bed. Hit me up if you think we’d made a good match, but I like talking with everyone lol. 

I’m really into music and can play the guitar, drums, and piano. I like listening to all types of music (yes, even country which slaps kinda hard sometimes) but my favorites are The 1975, Frank Ocean, Troye Sivan, and Khalid. Will bop to Justin Bieber on occasion as well. 

I play Ultimate and am really interested in joining the club team here so hit me up and we can practice sometime because my skills are a little rusty. I also do a little skateboarding but I am definitely not a skater. 

Hit me up if you think we can be friends lol I’m excited to meet you all!

It was accompanied by several pictures, a couple of which are selfies at that anime girl angle, one of him with his friends at prom all doing that Frat Boy pose, and a couple of him with his family. To an outsider doing a very quick glance, it pretty much reads the same as a rather extensive dating profile. 

The truth of it all is, as you were scrolling through the hundreds of obligatory university Facebook group introduction posts in search of a freshman year roommate, you stumbled upon Jungkook’s intro post and you thought this: No. Way.

The moment you laid eyes on his first above-the-head angle selfie, you knew that it would be unlikely that you and Jeon Jungkook’s paths would ever cross. He played guitar and did Ultimate Frisbee, and you wanted to audition for your university’s symphony orchestra. He was beautiful but in that sort of college frat boy who can crush you at beer pong kind of way. Craziest of all, he was a computer science major, and you were walking in as an undecided humanities concentration. 

Impossible. There was no way the two of you would ever meet, and you accepted that right off that bat. At a school your size, you would go through these four years not knowing a majority of your class. Jeon Jungkook was just one of the casualties. 

On the very first day of orientation, Jeon Jungkook comes up to you on the sidewalk, wearing a white t-shirt, a backwards baseball cap, and shorts, and asks you if you’re here for orientation as well? He’s lost. 

Jeon Jungkook is the type of guy you imagine getting eaten up by any girl who meets him almost immediately. He’s charming and endearing the same way a baby deer is, but has no problem wearing clothes that remind you of how fit he is. He is, for lack of a better term, extremely good looking. 

“Yeah,” you had said on the sidewalk, squinting to look up at him since the sun was in your eyes. “I’m heading to the auditorium right now. Wanna walk with me?”

“Okay, sure,” Jungkook had replied, smiling with all of his teeth. Even in the sweaty summer heat, he looked even nicer in person. “Thanks, by the way. I’m Jungkook. What’s your name?”

You knew that already. How could you have forgotten? 

You had grinned up at him. The universe has always worked in mysterious ways. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

When Jungkook doesn’t know what to do, he stress eats. Most often, you are the single witness to this action, which has literally no effect on his body mass whatsoever since he immediately burns off every calorie (and then some) at his next gym session. 

That is precisely why you are sitting in the second-best dining hall on campus eating a pretty measly salad and french fries, while Jungkook returns from the serve-yourself cafeteria with his sixth plate of food. Next to you is your mutual friend Chaewon, a filthy rich international student from Korea who is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met. 

“I think I’ve called every cafe, bubble tea shop, clothing store, and paid internship within a five-mile radius of this place and nothing,” Jungkook says with a sigh, keeping Chaewon updated with his job-search antics. It’s been several days since he was fired, and while being keenly cognizant of your bank account isn’t necessarily a bad thing, when it means that Jungkook refuses to leave campus because he is in hyper-saving mode, it sort of rustles your jimmies. 

“Have you tried babysitting?” Chaewon supplies helpfully. 

You laugh aloud at the mere thought of Jungkook stuck in some middle-aged parent’s house with their toddler for hours on a night where he could be living it up on campus. Jeon Jungkook? A babysitter?

“Wow, what the heck is wrong with me being a babysitter?” Jungkook questions, offended. 

“First of all, you don’t even let me beat you in Mario Kart on your Switch and I am your best friend. If you ended up gaming with a four-year-old boy, your over-competitiveness would take over you and you’d crush the poor kid and his spirit,” you remind him pointedly. Not to mention the fact that the man cannot cook to save his life, and you can’t even entrust him with microwave dinners because of his irrational fear of modern oven technology. 

Jungkook pouts. He knows you’re right. 

“It’s not like you were going to look into babysitting, anyway,” you say with a shove, nudging his shoulder with your own. 

Jungkook sighs, and despite all of the shit you give him on a daily basis (part of the responsibility of being his best friend), you do genuinely feel bad for him. Even if his job at the call center wasn’t the most intellectually stimulating nor morally rewarding, he didn’t absolutely hate it and he made a pretty decent earning off of it. He unzips his backpack and fumbles for his laptop, opening it up to reveal a Google Chrome window with approximately thirty-seven tabs open of places to work on and around campus. Meanwhile, Chaewon’s phone buzzes on the table, and she heaves out a great, exasperated exhale before picking up and immediately launching off into incredibly speedy Korean. 

“If only the bubble tea place was hiring,” you lament, kissing goodbye all of the free bubble tea you had been dreaming about if Jungkook got hired. 

“I’m glad I don’t work at the bubble tea place,” Jungkook tells you with his eyebrows raised, “otherwise I’d have to see you every day!” 

“You already see me every day!” You should back, but it’s not like Jungkook doesn’t know that already. He’s the one always barging into your apartment or sitting down next to you in the library when you’re trying to study. 

“But maybe you should try drinking less bubble tea, otherwise you’re gonna blow up like a tapioca pearl like that one girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Jungkook warns, pinching your cheek as if to make your face round like a tapioca bubble. 

“I can think of nothing I’d want more than to be a tapioca pearl for the rest of my life,” you state simply. It would be much less stressful than to be a college student. 

“If you were a tapioca pearl, I’d eat you!” Jungkook says, and you, out of the security of both your head and your heart, choose not to think too much into it. 

As Jungkook teases you about your slight obsession with bubble tea, Chaewon finally puts the phone down after what very well was several minutes of angry Korean. She lets out this deep, long sigh, like all of the pent-up rage within her is exiting through her exhale. 

“You good, Chae?” You ask her, a little concerned. Even after knowing her since the beginning of your freshman year, you’ve never once seen her get mad, though she looks pretty close to it now. 

“Yeah,” she says, exasperated. “My mom is having this stupid company ball here and she really, really wants me to attend.” It is obvious that Chaewon does not, in fact, want to attend. You’ve seen Chaewon nearly every day for over a year, and you’ve never even seen her wear a pantsuit. You couldn’t imagine her joy at having to dress up in a ballgown. 

“But fancy free food,” you point out. Even if she does have to be trapped in a penthouse ballroom with her parents’ stuffy business friends, the catering company will probably be god-tier. 

Chaewon pretty much bangs her head on the dining hall table. 

“Wow, I didn’t know someone could hate catered food so much,” you say, a little alarmed. 

“It’s not that,” Chaewon says, rubbing her forehead. The pasta on the plate in front of her has remained untouched for nearly ten minutes now. You wonder if she’s even hungry anymore. “My mom wants me to bring a plus-one.”

Your eyes widen. An excuse to dress nice and eat good food? Hell yeah. 

“And it can’t be you, Y/N, it has to be a date,” Chaewon says. It’s pretty obvious she’s not interested in dating whatsoever, no matter the gender of the object of her affection. You pout. Damn. “My mom said, ‘he can be whoever you want!’ but that means that he has to be an attractive Korean guy who’s got a future job in finance.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jungkook says over a mouthful of broccoli. 

“You will?” Chaewon asks. Jungkook just single-handedly saved Chaewon from a night of unbearable business talk with a boy she doesn’t know and cannot relate to. 

You scoff. “You’re just a regular Korean dude, Jungkook,” you tell him. 

Jungkook pouts, bottom lip turned out. “You don’t think I’m attractive?”

You refuse to answer that question. You’re afraid of what you might say if you open your mouth. 

“Seriously, you’d do that for me?” Chaewon turns to Jungkook with platonic stars in her eyes. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Sure. I’ve got a suit. I’ll ask my friend Jimin for a crash course in finance before the thing. When is it?”

And just like that, you and Jungkook’s weekly Friday Mario Kart night gets a rain check. 

 Jeon Jungkook is the sole best decision of your life. 

And it’s funny and twisted and wonderful, because he is the one thing you had failed to account for in your life. He stands there on the sidewalk in the blazing sun, black baseball cap nestled safely onto his dark brown hair, and in the split second it takes for him to open his mouth and say hello, everything changes. 

But no longer is the image you conjure in your mind when you think of him a picture of him on that very first day of orientation, lost and excited all at once. It is of him barging into your apartment and eating all of your leftover ravioli. It’s him laying on your dinky couch like it belongs to him, surfing through all of the Netflix shows available and eventually just settling on old Gilmore Girls episodes like he always does. It’s him standing in your closet to judge your latest clothing purchases and take back any items that you’ve stolen from him over the years. 

It’s imagining him not as a guest but as a permanent fixture in your home, in the place that makes you feel safest. Because that’s who Jungkook is, now. He is that place. He stands in your apartment rattling off a list of why microwaves are a severely underestimated killer, and it takes every inch of your being not to ask him to stay. To spend night after night cuddling on the couch, or make a home-cooked meal together on a Sunday evening, or get lost underneath the sheets on your bed.

Jungkook stands in your apartment like he belongs there. And only in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine that coming true.

Such is the case of that Friday night, when he’s supposed to accompany Chaewon to her terrible, awful, brain-melting parents’ business gala. You haven’t seen him all day, too busy with your club meetings to make time for him after your classes are finished for the week. College is never-ending in that horrible, unstoppable way. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when you hear the knock on your door. Two of your roommates are at a rush event for their sorority, and the other sleeps through your smoke alarm on a regular basis, so you are tasked with the job of opening the door. 

On the other side is Jungkook, as he frequently is. 

Your heart practically freezes in place, like his eyes have shot right through it. Instead of his usual baggy outfit and a bucket hat, he’s standing outside of your apartment in a crisp navy suit (complete with a pocket square), rings lining his fingers and hair tousled in that effortlessly-styled kind of way. He looks like a goddamn celebrity, like a young, successful CEO. Like the love of your whole fucking life. 

Coughing to distract from the fact that you’re practically drooling, you say, “Wow, you clean up nicely.”

Jungkook looks down at himself, almost as if he had forgotten he’s wearing a full suit entirely. “The pocket square is Jimin’s,” he explains, “but yeah. I didn’t want to let Chaewon down by not dressing up to code.”

He’s got remnants of makeup left on his face, having faded and smudged throughout the night. There’s a bit of black underneath his eyes from the liner, a smoldering effect that makes the dark brown of his irises even deeper. “You look tired,” you comment. “Why are you here, why don’t you go home, Jungkook? Get some sleep.”

Jungkook shrugs, looking over your shoulder to see if his arrival has woken up any of your roommates. “Your place was closer,” he says like it’s nothing. 

Like it doesn’t make your breath catch in your throat, stop in its tracks. He spends an evening dressed up in a stuffy suit and tie surrounded by old businessmen and their preppy daughters with whom he has nothing in common, and when it’s nearly two in the morning and he can finally relax, he drives to your place instead of his own. Like it means nothing. As if it means anything at all. 

Jungkook runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, and even knotted and messy it still looks flawless. “If I’m bothering you, just let me know. I know it’s late.”

It’s so hard to say no to him. 

“Just come inside already before you wake up the neighbors,” you tell him, sighing to pretend like it’s a minor inconvenience. And even running on barely any sleep with makeup smudged underneath his eyes, Jungkook grins as you let him inside your apartment, caving in, just like you always do. 

The first thing he does when he’s inside is take off his fancy loafers and peel off his suit jacket, resting it against the back of the couch. You fumble around in the kitchen for the kettle, instinctively starting to make two cups of tea. Routine. 

Looking up, you watch as Jungkook loosens his tie and takes it off, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. By the counter, you turn your back to him so he doesn’t see you mentally combust. It’s impossible that he doesn’t already know what he does to you. 

The kettle finishes boiling the moment Jungkook settles onto your couch. He keeps the television off so he doesn’t wake your roommates, and scrolls on his phone with his knees tucked underneath his chin. Thirty seconds later, you’re joining him, handing him the cup of tea before sitting down next to him, severely underdressed in comparison. 

“Did you at least have fun tonight?” You ask. 

“The food totally slapped,” Jungkook tells you. “Chaewon’s parents really pulled out all the stops.”

“So I’ve heard,” you muse. 

“We spent most of the time lounging by the catering table and distracting each other by making up stories about all of the rich people there.” Jungkook laughs. 

“Please tell me you didn’t embarrass yourself, though,” you say. Perhaps Jungkook could withstand a few blows to his ego, but Chaewon’s future pretty much depends on her impressing her parents and their comrades. 

“No!” Jungkook tells you defensively. “Jimin told me everything I needed to know, but all of Chaewon’s friends and their filthy rich CEO parents thought I was so handsome that I didn’t even need to speak.”

You roll your eyes. Of course Jungkook wouldn’t give up the chance to remind you of his hellishly good looks. 

“You just stood there, looking pretty?” You ask. Not as if he doesn’t do that already. 

“You think I’m pretty?” Jungkook teases, a greasy smile sent your way, like he doesn’t know the answer anyway. 

You huff. “Dressed up like this? Anyone would.”

“Chaewon said I was like her fake trophy husband,” Jungkook jokes. “She did all of the schmoozing. It’s not like I could have contributed anything anyway. Unless everyone wants to hear about C++.”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk all tech to me,” you tease, nudging him with your arm. “So sexy, keep talking.”

He laughs. “If we keep talking about Python I might get a little too excited.” He wiggles his eyebrows just for good measure and you giggle, holding onto this moment for dear life as you let it etch itself into your brain permanently. Times like these, you know you can’t forget, saving them for a rainy day thirty years down the line when you’re in love with someone that’s not Jungkook. When you look out the window and think about what might have been, if only things back in college had been a little bit different. 

Jungkook’s phone buzzes on the table. He’s got two notifications, one from Instagram of Chaewon tagging him in a post, and another from Venmo. 

“Fuckin’ damnit,” Jungkook swears, letting his phone drop on the couch cushion. 

“What?” You ask, turning to look at him. 

“Chaewon just Venmo’ed me a hundred dollars,” Jungkook says with a sigh. And it’s not one of those times when you see your bank account balance go up and get happy because yay, money!, it’s when your friend pays you anything over what they actually owe you out of the goodness of your heart, and you refuse to accept it. 

“She did?” You ask, eyes widening. A hundred dollars? That’s more than Jungkook would make in three shifts at the call center. 

“‘Thanks for bailing me out tonight. You definitely deserve more than 100 but then you’d be mad at me. But please don’t be mad at me!’” Jungkook reads off his phone. “I just stood there looking like eye candy. I didn’t do a thing to help her, what the heck?”

You pull out your own phone to check Chaewon’s latest post. 

It’s a picture of them together in the skyscraper penthouse the gala was held in, Jungkook looking dapper in his suit with a glass of champagne in his hand, and Chaewon in a dress worth more than a semester’s tuition throwing up a peace sign like the trendy Asian she is. They look like a K-drama couple. Like two celebrities basking in their fame and wealth. 

Shoutout to my one and only Jeon Jungkook for being my fake date tonight! Thanks to your good looks and charming personality for impressing all of my parents’ rich friends and their daughters. Love you 3000 💕

“Wow, whoever took this picture of the both of you knows their shit,” you say, impressed. You had always thought it impossible for Jungkook to look better in pictures than in real life, but this photo is coming rather close. If you were any more shameless, you’d ask Chaewon if she has any more photos of him. Just him, preferably. 

It’s not as if she doesn’t know about your gargantuan crush on him anyway. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever looked that good in a photo in my life,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Impossible. He yawns, placing his empty mug on the little end table next to the couch. 

“You should set it as your profile picture,” you suggest, leaning your head on him and pretending like this is normal. He yawns again, stretching out as he rests his body against yours. “Hey, we should go to sleep. Unless you want to go home?”

Jungkook groans, snuggling in closer. “No, your bed is big enough for the two of us.”

And who are you to resist?

You wake up to the sound of a phone buzzing furiously on your bedside table. You crack open one eye just a sliver to see who the culprit is and immediately eradicate it, when the sun filtering through your Venetian blinds hits your cornea. You groan, shutting your eyes once more as you smack your hand around to get it to shut off. 

The movement, however, causes the bedsheets to shift beside you, and when you turn, you find Jungkook nestled up tightly beneath your duvet, an arm stretched over your side as he hums in his sleep. 

You’re best friends. 

This is normal. 

(The feeling of your heart beating out of its chest has become rather normal, as well.)

He’s wearing a raggedy old t-shirt of yours that has always been too big on you but fits him just perfectly and a pair of joggers that he keeps at your place “just in case”. Just in case he stays the night. Just in case you ever need them. Selfishly, you will yourself to fall back asleep, shutting your eyes tightly and pretending that maybe, if you never wake up, this moment will freeze in time, locking the two of you together for eternity. 

He mumbles to himself in his sleep, a murmur of nothing as he shifts over slightly, hand dragging up your side. 

God. 

Next to you, the phone begins to buzz erratically again, and wide-awake, you look over to realize that it’s Jungkook’s, and that it’s Chaewon on the other end. 

This is at least the second time she’s called, which means that, despite how tempting it is, you probably shouldn’t silence his phone and go back to lying in bed with Jungkook and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. 

Sighing, you pick up. 

“Jungkook!” Chaewon shouts on the other side. For a brief moment you wonder why on earth she’s so energetic so early, but it’s less that and more the fact that you are overwhelmingly lethargic rather late in the day. “All of my friends said you looked really good in those photos I posted of us. Do you think you’re free next Wednesday night? Seunghee wants you to accompany her to a double date her parents are forcing her to go on!”

“Chaewon—”

“Oh, Y/N! How’s it going?”

“I just woke up,” you mumble quietly as Jungkook stirs beside you. 

“Of course you did,” Chaewon says, and you can see her rolling her eyes on the other side of the line. “Wait, why do you have Jungkook’s phone if you just woke up? Oh my God, don’t tell me—”

“Shh!” You hiss into the phone. Jungkook is slowly beginning to wake up, and you can only pray that he isn’t listening in to the conversation between you and Chaewon. “No, we did not. He got back after your thing and we promptly passed out in my bed, fully clothed,” you whisper loudly. 

“Jungkook went to your place last night? He was so tired, I thought he was going straight back to his. We even got dropped off outside my apartment.”

What? Chaewon and Jungkook live within a three-minute walk of each other. Your apartment is ten minutes away from both of them. 

“You did?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Who’s that?” 

You turn around to see Jungkook lying on his back, head resting on a nearly-deflated pillow of yours as he looks up at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair is mussed, some parts styled and stiff with hair gel, and some parts tangled and unkempt. He looks like he’s been lying in that position for a while, hand resting behind his head as he gazes up at you. 

“It’s Chaewon,” you tell him softly as she laughs on the other end. “She just called your phone. Are you free next Wednesday?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook, still half-asleep. “When?”

“Next Wednesday,” you repeat, a hand on the phone like it’s going to do anything to stop Chaewon from listening to you two. “Chaewon says she has a friend who wants you to accompany her to a double date she’s been set up to go on by her parents.”

“Mmmrph,” Jungkook mumbles. It’s clear he hasn’t even thought about his plans for the rest of the day, let alone next Wednesday. 

“He’s not available right now,” you say into the phone. Chaewon snorts. 

“Fine,” Chaewon says with a sigh. “Can you pass the message on when you guys are done pretending that you aren’t fucking behind my back?”

You suck in a breath. “Chaewon!” You hiss. “We are not—” you quickly turn back to Jungkook, who, by the looks of his hooded eyes and bewildered expression, isn’t listening in, “—fucking!” You whisper. “You know we’re not!”

Chaewon laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Call me later, Y/N, we should grab ice cream or something.” She hangs up. 

“Who was that?” Jungkook asks sleepily, eyes still half-lidded as he sits up in your bed, soft skin, brown hair, pouted lips amongst a sea of white, bundled up in your thick duvet as if sitting on a cloud. 

“Chaewon,” you tell him. 

“Oh, why was she calling?”

“She wanted to ask if you were free next Wednesday.”

“To do what?”

Maybe you were worried about Jungkook listening in to Chaewon grill you about your relationship (or serious lack thereof) for nothing. 

“She has a friend who wants you to go on a parent-mandated double date, trophy boyfriend style,” you explain. Jungkook groans. 

“Pretending to know business is mentally, physically, and morally draining. It feels like I’m selling my soul to capitalism,” he says with a sigh, collapsing back against the mattress. “I just wanna stay here forever. It’s so cozy.”

“Come on, Kook,” you say, tugging the duvet off of him to reveal the rest of his body. He curls into himself at the exposure, refusing to budge. “You’ve encroached on my apartment long enough.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook whines, drawing out your name for good measure. “Noooooooo.” He reaches out to cling onto your wrist, which means that if you want him out of your bed, you’ll have to drag him out.

“Jungkook, you’re swole, you know I can’t tug you out of my bed,” you say with a pout. He knows every trick in the book to use against you, and worst of all, he knows you’re weak to all of them. 

“Good,” Jungkook says with a loopy smile, pulling you back onto the bed like it’s nothing. You yelp as you come crashing on top of him, your body bumping into his as he wraps his arms around you and flops back onto your bed. You laugh and shout at the feeling as Jungkook cuddles up in the warmth of the sheets, pulling you in tightly to his body. “It’s so warm here, let’s stay like this forever.”

“What about food?”

“You keep a stash of Clif bars under your bed, we’ll eat those,” Jungkook suggests. 

You attempt to wriggle out of his grip, hoping to escape before he holds you long enough to get addicted, hooked on the feeling of his arms around you, his body against yours. But Jungkook is nothing if not persistent and clingy, and he wraps his arms tightly around your torso like a koala, warm and soft. “Come on, Jungkook. It’s nearly noon. Let’s be productive today.”

“Gross.”

“Let’s not sit in bed all day.”

“Grosser. Let’s just stay in your bed all day and pretend that we don’t have any real responsibilities.”

“Given that we’re in college, that may be slightly difficult.”

“Fuck that, your GPA doesn’t matter anyway. Unless you have plans on going to grad school?” He asks with an eyebrow raise, turning to look at you. 

“No way, I’m not paying for another four years of this shit,” you immediately declare. Let the capitalist system of higher education extort another two to four years worth of tuition out of you for the same degree? Absolutely not. 

“Then why move?” Jungkook says with a grin. 

“Because,” you say, stumbling for a real answer. 

“Not good enough.” He grins cheekily. “I vote to stay in bed.”

“I vote to do my readings, your CS homework, and get back to Chaewon about Wednesday.”

“God,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “What’s Wednesday?”

“Oh my God, you need to call Chaewon. Right now. Before you ask me what you have on Wednesday one more time after losing all of your brain cells lounging around in my personal bed and refusing to leave,” you say, eyes wide as you worm your way out of his grip, dusting yourself off and heading to your closet. 

“Noooooooo,” Jungkook says, reaching out a desperate hand. “Y/N, come back.”

“Call Chaewon. Call her!” You order, fishing around in your closet for some fresh clothes. You’ve been wearing the same one since Thursday night. You are disgusting. 

Jungkook groans but obeys, picking up his phone and pressing her contact. “Hey Chae, it’s Jungkook. Listen, I’m literally going to Venmo you back what you paid me because you? Literally didn’t need to pay me at all? And I’m actually mad at you for it? Wait, what do you mean am I up to getting paid on Wednesday—”

The phone call presents the perfect opportunity for you to dash out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, where you splash yourself with cold tap water like a model in a face wash commercial (who already has perfect skin, so why does she need this new face wash, seriously?) to clear your head. It’s been a weird twelve hours. Even weirder knowing that across the hall, Jungkook is sitting in your room, on your bed, in your clothes, under your bed sheets. Knowing that maybe, in another universe, on another timeline, you would be in the exact same positions, only everything would be different. 

You wash your face, hoping to wake yourself up. Convince your mind that the past twelve hours have been nothing but a dream, and that when you walk back into your room, Jungkook will have vanished. Or he would have never been there in the first place. 

You leave the bathroom and return to your bedroom to see Jungkook tugging on his suit jacket, wearing the same clothes he had on when he knocked on your door at 2AM last night. He’s still on the phone, wrapping up the conversation with Chaewon. 

“Yeah, yeah, tell her that I’m down. She can just text me, give her my number. I’m happy to do this for you and your friends, Chae. Plus, she’s gonna pay me and I feel less bad about it because it’s a service and she’s not a close friend like you are. Yeah, it’s all good,” he looks up to see you standing at the door, leaning against the frame. “Yeah, Y/N just got back so I’m gonna go. Maybe we can grab dinner or something tonight? Cool. Bye.”

“Dinner without me?” You ask with a pout. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. “You’re always invited.”

“Have you figured out what’s going on on Wednesday?” You tease him as you walk him to the door. 

“Chaewon has a friend, Soojin, who wants me to accompany her on a parent-mandated double date with a business partner’s daughter,” Jungkook explains. “Apparently all of Chaewon’s friends realized I make a pretty good fake trophy boyfriend.”

You rub his shoulder. He’d make a great real boyfriend too. Not that you think about that all of the time, or anything. “Gonna put that on your resume, big guy?”

“Of course.” Jungkook smiles. “Dinner tonight? We can go to the ramen place you really like.”

“Sure thing, is Chaewon coming?”

“If she wants to. Otherwise, it’ll just be us.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him. “See you then.”

“Hopefully before,” Jungkook says. “Thanks for letting me crash here last night, by the way.”

“Anytime,” you say. Maybe one day, it’ll be true. 

Next Wednesday, there’s a knock on your door at midnight. 

Who else could it be?

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. And then it was supposed to be just a two-time thing. And before you knew it, Jungkook’s number and his services were circling through the ring of wealthy international students, jumping from phone to phone as people crammed to get him to accompany them on their next double date, next business gala, next ballroom dance. 

You had always had a feeling that his charming, charismatic personality would eventually draw everybody towards him, so electric and magnetic that you couldn’t help but want to know him, make friends with him, be close to him. From the moment you saw his Facebook introduction post, you knew it was only a matter of time before everyone on campus knew his name.

[October 17th, 4:12PM] You: do u want to get dinner tonight

Jungkook: would love to but have to go to kim family business dinner with dahyun sorry :(

You: ok next time then!

[October 23rd, 1:03PM]

You: yo what r u doing You: i have so many readings to do rip You: do u wanna come to greene w me and study

Jungkook: heejin is taking me shopping for a fancy suit for her family’s event tomorrow i can’t :/ Jungkook: but i am going to get macaroons for u at the mall so we can see each other later!

You: yummm sure thing!

[October 30th, 9:58AM]

You: hey ik you’re asleep rn but we are still on for tomorrow right? 🎃 You: can’t let our one (1) year long halloween tradition of buying last-minute candy and watching the nightmare before christmas together die

[October 30th, 11:13PM]

Jungkook: omg i just saw this now im so sorry Jungkook: uh yeonjoo wants me to go to her sister’s halloween party tm so idk if i can make it this year

[October 31st, 2:02AM]

You: ok You: thanks for telling me

It’s no fun watching The Nightmare Before Christmas by yourself, you realize this Halloween. All of your roommates are out frequenting one of the hundreds of parties being thrown on campus tonight, and although you’d normally be up for getting drunk and dropping it low, you just aren’t in the Halloween spirit this year. Wonder why. 

Armed with the knowledge that your roommates probably won’t be back until three or four in the morning, you shut your laptop and decide to go to bed early. Early being midnight, but it’s early for you and that’s all that really matters. 

You don’t know why you’re being such a stick in the mud this Halloween. It’s always been one of your favorite holidays, never one to pass up free candy nor the option to dress up, but this one has been particularly lame. You don’t have a costume, your local drugstore is out of mini Skittles packets, and you don’t have someone to spend it with. 

Realistically, you have no reason to be sad that Jungkook isn’t available tonight. It’s not as if spending Halloween together is some ancient tradition from birth that binds the two of you together. You did it for the first time as freshmen, and you were foolishly hoping to do the same thing as sophomores. It’s not a tradition if it only happened once. 

You look in the bathroom mirror, stained with nail polish and dry shampoo and old skincare, and you sigh. Jungkook has every right to prioritize his current and only source of income over a night spent lounging on the couch doing nothing. It’s not as if you haven’t seen your best friend in over a month and this was the only night you both had free. Jungkook drops by after every single event he goes on. Every single one. He stands outside your door dressed in a fancy suit, or a silk button down, leather shoes and expensive jewelry bought for him by the girls he goes out with.

No matter the time, he knocks on your door and says hello, steals a cup of tea and a bit of your heart along with it, before bouncing out of your living room and off to his own apartment. He doesn’t stay the night anymore, doesn’t worm his way underneath your duvet and refuse to move until morning comes. It’s hard to tell if you’re grateful about it or not. 

Sluggishly, you peel off your clothes and wash your face, changing into some old sweatpants from the tenth grade and a t-shirt with an embarrassingly large hole in the armpit. This Halloween, you are dressing up as a lonely college student who is going to bed early on Halloween night because she has nothing better to do!

There’s a knock on your door. 

Your first instinct is to freeze up. When there’s another knock, your second instinct is to grab the closest object to you (which happens to be your water bottle) for self-defense. 

And then, you hear,

“You’re not watching The Nightmare before Christmas without me, are you?”

To spare yourself the shame, you won’t say that you practically leapt out of bed the moment you heard his voice. You calmly removed the covers, and casually walked to the front door. That is what you did. 

When you open it, Jungkook is standing behind it, grinning, wearing the greasiest police officer outfit you’ve ever seen in your entire life. This flew at a marketing company’s heir’s Halloween party? He’s even got what looks to be a fully-loaded water gun in his holster. 

“Don’t tell me this is what you wore to some fancy-shmancy Halloween party,” you say disapprovingly, eyebrows raised as you look him up and down and pretend that you aren’t just ogling his figure. 

“It was fine, Yeonjoo’s sister just graduated college. If anything, she was more okay with it than Yeonjoo was,” Jungkook says with a shrug. You don’t even need to let him in at this point, just watch as he tugs off his shoes and steps inside your apartment like it belongs to him. 

“What was Yeonjoo dressed as?”

“Princess Leia. We made for a very mismatched pair,” Jungkook says, chuckling to himself. “Ooh, did you guys get new tea?”

“You can have some if you want,” you tell him, shutting the door as he eagerly pulls out a box of teabags, turning on the electric kettle on the counter. “I think it’s Wild Berry Hibiscus.”

“Sounds good already,” Jungkook says, and he lets out a sigh that sounds so exhausted, so tired and aching, as he leans back against the countertop, head resting on the cupboards above it. 

“You could have gone home, you know,” you tell him. Even from the couch you can see the droop in his shoulders, the bags under his eyes. He’s been going out several times every week for the past month, and he still has a truckload of CS assignments on top. He spends precious hours schmoozing with wealthy businessmen and women, shaking people’s hands and posing for pictures in the fanciest clothes he owns and then some. The selfish part of you wants him to stay. The part that loves him knows it would be better if he went home. “You still can.”

“No,” Jungkook insists, shaking his head. “We have a tradition to uphold, don’t we?”

Even though The Nightmare Before Christmas is seventy-six minutes long, the night ends long before that. You haven’t even reached “This Is Halloween” before you feel a head hit your shoulder, and crane your neck to find Jungkook having fallen fast asleep beside you, half-full cup of Wild Berry Hibiscus next to the laptop in front of you. He’s still wearing his stupid police officer costume, the navy blue uniform tight against his body. His lips are parted ever so softly, eyelashes fluttering as little non-sounds exit his mouth, hints, whispers of snores. 

He hasn’t slept over since the first time. You’re not sure if you want the trend to continue, or if you just want to be a little bit selfish tonight, greedy, taking and taking and taking. He’s so beautiful like this, so innocent and gentle and soft. It would be such a shame if you had to wake him. 

And so, gingerly, you rest your head against his own, breathe in the quiet little sounds that leave his parted lips, memorize the feeling. It’s not the first time Jungkook’s accidentally fallen asleep on you, but there is something about this moment, sitting on your couch a few minutes past midnight, as the rest of the world celebrates around you, that is so intimate. Like here, in your apartment, you and Jungkook have your own little bubble, tucked away in a corner of the universe far from the noise of the rest of the world. And it’s here that you wish you could stay forever, for once never wanting the feeling to end. Wanting time to freeze in its very steps, the clocks stop and the orbit halts, and it is just you and Jungkook, forever. Like characters in a movie, on pause for eternity.

The moment ends when Jungkook shifts beside you before eventually coming to, slowly opening his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, dazed and tired, as he sits up properly, staring down at your half-opened laptop and the half-full cup of tea next to it. 

“Thought you’d end up sleeping here again tonight,” you joke, even though it isn’t really a joke. Maybe, somewhere deep down inside you, in the crevices between your bones and the dark corner of your heart, you had hoped that he would stay. 

“Oh, did I fall asleep?” Jungkook asks, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. It’s nearly two-thirty in the morning. 

“Just for a bit. I didn’t want to wake you, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to head back to your apartment or anything,” you tell him. 

Jungkook nearly jumps up off the couch at that, like he’s got springs in his shoes. Suddenly he’s wide awake, brown eyes blown open as he scrambles to gather his belongings, taking the cup of tea and quickly dumping it out in your sink. 

“Hey, don’t you want that?” You ask. 

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll come by some other time and have some, it was really good, I just fell asleep while drinking it,” Jungkook sputters, words moving a mile a minute as he tugs on his heavy black officer boots, scuffed at the tips from wear and tear. It’s as if he’s desperate to leave. Like your apartment has somehow offended him. Or worse, you. 

“If you want to stay, Jungkook, you can,” you tell him, standing up to run to the door before he pulls the damn thing off his hinges with how fast he’s moving. “I don’t mind. My bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“No, I should—I should get going. My… plants need watering. Right now. I totally forgot.”

It’s not a completely bullshit excuse. Jungkook has a fair few pothos amongst his other worldly apartment belongings, hanging from his ceiling or potted in old mugs and janky shoes. But it’s still a pretty bullshit excuse. It’s dark. Jungkook waters his plants every Sunday, and it’s Friday. It’s obvious he wants to get the hell out of your apartment for whatever reason. 

All you can do is hope and pray that it isn’t you who’s driving him away. 

“Oh—okay,” you tell him, opening the door as he furiously laces up his other boot. 

“Thanks for doing this. Next Halloween will be more fun, I swear. I won’t fall asleep on you. Or anything.”

“Okay, see you soon, then?” You ask, searching for a clue, a hint, anything that will tell you that it’s not you, that he hasn’t found you out yet. That you can still be friends, be best friends, because even if you want to kiss him, hold his hand, roll around in bed with him, loving him from afar is good enough. 

“Yes, yes, definitely. Dinner? Uh… sometime this week? I’ll text you. I have to go. Plants. See you!”

He dashes down the hallway. 

And you end your Halloween the same way you started it. Alone. 

Jungkook ran out of your apartment the other day like it was infested with cockroaches. Or the Black Plague. Or your microwave had just beeped. It was as if simply being inside it was going to scar him for life. 

Maybe your apartment is cursed. Jungkook does believe in ghosts. That’s another reason as to why he fears the microwave. Tiny ghosts could be living inside the microwave chamber and you’d never know. But Jungkook knows better. He knows that they’re there. 

“He just… ran out?” Chaewon asks, clearly bewildered. The two of you have been working on the first floor of the library all day, obviously doing everything in your power to not actually complete any of your assignments. 

“Yeah, something about his plants.” You sigh. 

Chaewon narrows her eyes, the same way she does when she’s plotting something. “Interesting.”

“What?” You ask, nudging her to see if you can worm a less mysterious response out of her. 

“Nothing,” Chaewon says with a nonchalant shrug. She clearly has something to say. 

“What?” You repeat forcefully. Chaewon doesn’t get to go all cryptic on you just because Jungkook ran out of your apartment like it had set fire. 

“I know I’ve only known you guys for, like, a year and a bit now, but you two have the strangest relationship I’ve ever seen,” Chaewon comments like it’s nobody’s business when it is, in fact, specifically two people’s business. 

You scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just…” She pauses, thinking. In the silence, she begins to pack up her belongings, shoving her laptop into her bag and gathering up the small pile of candy wrappers slowly amassing in front of her. “I’ve never seen two best friends have a relationship quite like yours.”

“Thanks?”

“What are you doing for dinner? I’m eating with Yoonji, but you’re welcome to join if you want,” Chaewon offers. Even though you have no idea who Yoonji is, Chaewon would never exclude you from eating with them.

“I’m getting Korean food with Jungkook, but thanks for the offer,” you say, only to be greeted with Chaewon rolling her eyes. He said he’d meet us outside?”

Sure enough, when you head out of the glass doors at the front of the library, Jungkook is waiting dutifully on a bench close by, headphones in as he nods his head and taps his feet to the beat of the music, lost in his own world. He doesn’t even realize that you’ve left the library until you’re two feet in front of him, when he recognizes your beat-up white sneakers and looks up at you in glee, eyes crinkled into crescents. 

“Ready to go?” You ask happily. Your stomach has been rumbling ever since Jungkook suggested you go out to eat this morning. 

“Hell yeah I am,” Jungkook says, putting his earbuds away as he stands up. “You coming, Chae?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m eating with a friend.” There’s nudge against your shoulder, and when you turn to face her, she winks. “But you two enjoy yourselves! Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Before you can publicly berate her for being so goddamn obvious, she’s rotating 180 degrees on her heel and speed-walking in the opposite direction, zooming off so you don’t get the chance. 

“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages,” you comment mindlessly. Twenty-four hours away from Jungkook feels like a lifetime and a half. Forty-eight is a light year. 

“I’ve been busy,” Jungkook says vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Doing what, going out to fancy restaurants and galas?” You half-tease. It’s sad but true—Jungkook spends his nights living a life you could only dream of. And all of these rituals you share, from studying in the library until three in the morning to crashing at his place and taking naps on separate couches, get put on the backburner. 

“Hey, it’s hard work pretending to be rich,” Jungkook pouts. “Besides, the craziest thing about going to those things is that rich Korean people don’t serve Korean food at their fancy gatherings. They serve shit like caviar.”

“Is that why you’re so desperate to get Korean?” You ask pointedly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook emphasizes. “Man, I just want some tteokbokki.”

“Then we’ll go and eat all of the tteokbokki you can dream of,” you promise. You round the street corner and on the edge of the main road and an alleyway sits a tiny Korean restaurant the size of a bedroom, no more than six cramped tables inside. It’s run by a family who passes it down through each generation, dependent on the starving college students nearby to keep it alive. 

It’s Jungkook’s favorite place. The owner gives him a discount every time he sees him. 

(It’s impossible not to fall in love with Jungkook. Impossible to not be drawn to his presence, his personality. Like moths to a flame, you can’t help but come closer.)

“Ah, Jungkook!” The old man behind the counter greets as the bell above the entrance rings. “Sit! Sit!” He points to your favorite table, a round one in the far left corner that’s right next to the biggest window. “Usual?”

“Tteokbokki, too, please!” Jungkook shouts. The man gives you both a thumbs up and heads back into the kitchen. 

“It’s been a while since we came here,” Jungkook notices. You both usually eat lunch on campus and Jungkook has been largely unavailable for dinner. 

“Almost sounds like you missed it,” you poke fun. 

“God, I missed it so much,” Jungkook exclaims, tilting his head back in exasperation. “I didn’t realize that it would be so much work to get dressed up in a suit and look hot.”

“Don’t make it sound like such a drag.” You frown. Jungkook needs to put in literally zero effort to look hot. Sitting across from him in this tiny Korean restaurant as he wears nothing but a massive hoodie and black joggers, he looks hot. When he wakes up in your bed in a raggedy t-shirt, he looks hot. When you catch him at three in the morning in the library after eighteen straight hours of studying, he looks hot. 

Jungkook sits there and radiates light. Radiates warmth and joy and beauty. Laughter and hope. He’s the college version of a Disney prince. Perfectly imperfect and completely out of your reach. 

“I wish I could take you with me, you might enjoy it,” Jungkook sighs. “Plus, I have literally never seen you wear something fancier than business casual. Imagine you in a ballgown!”

“In your dreams, Jeon,” you rebuke. “Free catered food sounds nice but having to mingle with the 1% does not.”

“Touché,” Jungkook concedes. “I don’t know how Chaewon does it.”

“She’s a goddess.”

���Indeed.”

Jungkook pours you a cup of water from the pitcher that the old man dropped off, and then pours one for himself. “Chaewon said that I did well, though.”

Not surprising. Jungkook excels at everything he does. 

“Of course you did, you sexy beast,” you chide. 

“She said I’d make a good boyfriend.”

You choke on your water as the man’s son brings out your food, and you desperately attempt to avoid eye contact as you sputter and cough into a napkin, gaze pointed away from both a surprised waiter and a concerned Jungkook, who awkwardly thanks the man and leans over to pat your back. 

“You good?” He asks, brows furrowed. 

Coughing, you say, “I’m okay, I’m okay. It just—it went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.” Jungkook doesn’t buy it, and the little coughs escaping your throat don’t do much to corroborate your claim. “Seriously, Jungkook. I’m okay. It’s just water.”

“You looked like you were on the verge of death,” Jungkook frowns. 

“That’s just my face,” you fire back. “Just keep talking about what you were saying earlier. What was it?”

“Being a good boyfriend,” Jungkook says, and with no water near your lips to distract you this time, your mind bears the full force of his words, weighing down on your shoulders like a calculus textbook. 

It’s not as if you aren’t already aware that Jungkook would be the best boyfriend in the entire world, bar none. Not as if you don’t sit in bed and dream of a parallel universe, a life other than the one you’re living in right now, where Jungkook is lovely and wonderful and yours. He knocks on your door at a random hour in the afternoon with Chinese takeout from the local restaurant. He remembers your homework assignments when you forget them. He sits in bed with you and judges the Instagrams of the guys on the latest Bachelorette season. It’s as if he was already yours.

“Believe me,” you scoff. “The people know how great of a boyfriend you are.” 

“It’s fake, though,” Jungkook reminds you. “It’s only for a night. An evening, really.”

“Better than nothing,” you sigh. “If only I had enough money to rent myself a fake boyfriend for a night.”

“If only your parents were the CEOs of a multibillion dollar cooperation,” Jungkook adds on. 

“Truth,” you say, and you and Jungkook toast to that. Toast to knowing that some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Toast to knowing that some of those people can get for themselves something you can only imagine in your wildest dreams—a night with Jungkook. More than just a night. A night spent dressed up in your fanciest clothes, arms wrapped tightly around each other. A night spent as a couple, rather than you and Jungkook. 

Toast to knowing that even if you’ll never get to have him like that, you get to have him like this, and you’d rather it be like this than nothing at all. 

“You don’t need to rent a fake boyfriend for a night, Y/N,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve downed the water in your glasses (stay hydrated!). “You shouldn’t feel pressured to spend time with people you don’t want to spend time with.”

You don’t understand, you sigh. I’d give anything to spend time with you. 

Jungkook pays. He says that he’s made more money accompanying wealthy socialites—even ones that don’t go to your school, because word gets around—than he would in a month’s worth of shifts at the call center. He says he’s never looking back. He’s probably not going to give up the gig for a while, either. 

“Just because you have cash now doesn’t mean you get a free pass to pay for everything we do together,” you warn. You’ve always split the price of meals, split the price birthday cakes for your friends. In the beginning of freshman year, Jungkook ate a quarter of a bag of goldfish you had and paid you fifty-three cents to account for his consumption, which you immediately sent back to him. You still fight over it, finding surreptitious ways to incorporate it into the Venmo payments you make to each other. 

“I’m rich, I can do whatever I want with my money,” Jungkook proclaims. “And if that means treating my best friend to a meal, then that means I’m gonna treat her to a meal.”

“That’s very rude of you,” you tell him pointedly. “Zero out of ten, worst best friend in the entire world. Will not accept my Venmo payments.”

Walking down the sidewalk, side by side, Jungkook wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a side hug as you come to a stop at a traffic light. “You always do so much for me and Chaewon. You deserve to be treated once in a while, Y/N.”

“Why, ‘cause I go out to CVS at ten at night to get you Nyquil after you catch the common cold from some sweaty guy at the gym?” 

“That,” Jungkook nods, conceding, “and also because you’re one of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. The people who know you are lucky to get to say your name.”

If only Jungkook knew that he was the exact same. It’s an honor to know him. It’s a blessing to love him. 

“What fancy clothes do you own?” Chaewon’s lying on your bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. 

“I don’t know,” you respond, brows furrowing. You get up from your desk chair to start fishing through your closet,  “I have, like, some business casual stuff.”

“How about a dress?”

You whip around suspiciously, eyeing Chaewon as she lounges around in your room and acts like she isn’t plotting something nefarious. “Don’t you think you could tell me what you’re trying to convince me to do before you ask me if I have the appropriate clothing?” 

Even lying on her back, Chaewon still manages to roll her eyes, sitting up to meet your gaze. “There’s a gala tonight to celebrate some big business deal being closed and I want you to come with me,” she says like it’s a chore, exasperated. 

“Me?” You frown. “Why not Jungkook?”

“He said he had some thing to do for some other girl,” Chaewon says. The topic clearly is not at the forefront of her mind. It’s a little too obvious that it’s at the forefront of yours. “Besides, I was given no date restrictions and you deserve to have a little fun tonight. It’s a Friday!”

“I just want to stay in bed and play Legend of Zelda,” you tell her. 

“You’re already out of bed,” Chaewon points out unhelpfully. 

“Well, then I want to get into bed and play Legend of Zelda,” you rephrase. 

Chaewon pouts. “Noooo, please? It’ll be fun, I swear,” Chaewon pleads.  “It’s a huge party and hundreds of people are going to be there. Everybody gets to bring a plus one. You won’t be the only person who doesn’t know anything about business and has to cling onto their date in order to survive.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me want to go so much,” you deadpan. 

“Seriously, Y/N. When was the last time you went out on a Friday?”

A while ago. You and Jungkook started having Mario Kart nights on Friday in the middle of your freshman year after you both came to the conclusion that every frat party smells, sounds, and tastes like the same fifty shades of college regret. You haven’t gone out since. 

“Not that long ago,” you lie. It’s been months.

“Yeah, right,” Chaewon scoffs. “Don’t think I don’t see your Bitmoji on the SnapMap sitting in your damn apartment on a Friday at 11PM,” she scolds.

“I’m gonna turn off my location,” you declare. You’ve had enough of Snapchat exposing you and your location. People can live in mystery about your whereabouts from now on. They don’t need to know. Chaewon certainly does not. 

“No excuses, you’re coming with me to the gala! You must have something to wear in that closet of yours, don’t you?” She slides off of your bed with a thud and joins you as you stand in front of your clothes. None of them scream fancy. None of them even whisper it. You stand back as she shuffles through your clothes, hangers squeaking as she shoves them along the rail. Chaewon tears through your clothing faster than you skim through your economics readings. “Aha! What do we have here?”

She whips out a dress from the very back of your closet, right behind the blazer you never wear because you’d rather be caught dead than in business attire. It’s old—you don’t think you’ve worn it since the beginning of your freshman year when you thought you actually had to dress up for parties. Needless to say, you dry-cleaned it the following Monday and never wore it again. You don’t even recall bringing it to college this year. 

“This is perfect!” Chaewon cries. “Really says ‘I can fucking dress myself’, don’t you think?”

“Are you implying that I can’t dress myself?” 

“You should definitely wear this,” Chaewon decides, dodging the question. “Gucci and Louis Vuitton are overrated, anyway.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I.” Chaewon thrusts the dress towards you.

Chaewon shakes her head. “Of course you don’t.” 

Three hours later finds you one makeup and hair session later, standing in the lobby of a magnificent skyscraper wearing a dress that maybe could have done without the cup of frozen yogurt that you ate before you arrived. Now you remember why you haven’t really worn it since the beginning of last year. Has it shrunk?

“I feel like a loser, Chaewon,” you hiss as she bats her eyelashes and gets directed to the private elevator that will lead you both to the top floor. “A money-less, jobless loser.”

“At least you’re honest, Y/N,” Chaewon whispers back as you step into the elevator. Despite being nearly an hour and a half late (“Fashionably so!” Chaewon exclaims.) you are crowded into the back corner, several other couples stepping inside to join you, all of them wearing clothes that cost more than your tuition for all four years of college, combined. “That’s better than most of the people here.”

Nothing separates the rich from the poor like morality. 

When the elevator doors open, you and Chaewon are the last group to step out, milling about in the corner until the path is free. And when you turn your gaze away from her, you realize just why Jungkook’s so keen on going to events like these, why he never turns down an offer when it lights up his phone screen. 

In movies, rich people flaunt their wealth so extravagantly that it almost looks fake. From gigantic ice sculptures to ten-feet-tall chocolate fountains, entire orchestras and dresses worth thousands of dollars, it makes you wonder if rich people really do see those items as necessities when throwing a party. They rent out entire European castles and the press publicizes every one of their actions. To you, it looks contrived, unrealistic. Even if rich people have enough money to sustain the bottom 99% for hundreds of years, how could they spend their money on nonsense like this?

As it turns out, the ice sculptures and chocolate fountains are only half of the story.

At this gala, the hosts have spared no expense. The entire penthouse is made purely of glass, from the ceiling, to the floor, to the walls in between, giving you an absolutely breathtaking view of the city lights dozens of feet below you, of the stars millions of light years away. It’s as if you’re standing in a bubble, frozen in time, the world sparkling and twinkling and shimmering around you. You didn’t even know a place like this existed on Earth. The price to book it must be astronomical. The view, even more so. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, mouth dropping open at the sight. It’s a movie come to life. It’s a picture straight out of a fairytale. 

“Pretty sweet, right?” Chaewon says, clearly proud of herself for convincing you to join her. “The Parks and the Ohs really felt like celebrating.”

“No shit,” you say, dumbfounded. Chaewon wraps her arm around yours and leads you out of the elevator, her poise and grace akin to that of a princess. She’s been to this place before. She could do this in her sleep. 

“Pictures first, then we eat, and then we mingle,” Chaewon instructs, and you nod diligently. She’s the only way you’re going to make it out of this night unscathed. Without her, you don’t know what you’d do. 

On the average day of an average life of an average person, pictures means getting a stranger to take a single pic on your shitty iPhone at your worst angle, which you will begrudgingly post to your Instagram later after extensive editing. 

But this is not your average day, and these are not average lives of not average people. Pictures means professional photographers with entire setups, standing with their cameras held up to their eyes, poised and ready for the next shot. It means couples, one by one, stepping in front of a gorgeous backdrop and posing, over and over, as five photographers at once cram to get their best angle, the cleanest photo. 

You don’t know how to pose for photos. You barely remember what the proper formatting is for your essays, depending on the citation structure. And yet, Chaewon is ushering you over in front of the photographers, immediately striking one of her classic, perfect poses as you flail about, trying to figure out what to do with your hands. 

“Just relax,” Chaewon advises. Even standing beside you, she can see you panicking in her periphery. “And smile. You’re beautiful, so show them that.”

Eventually, as the photographers switch positions to get different angles, you stop worrying about your hands, stop worrying about your bag, your feet, your head tilt, and just grin. You may not have millions of dollars to your name, but it’s a Friday night and you’re living the life of a billionaire with no responsibilities. You deserve to live a little. 

When the next group comes up, Chaewon nudges you out of the way and whispers to one of the photographers, who nods dutifully in response. Wrapping her arm around yours once more, she guides you to the massive catering setup, tables and tables lined with delicacies from every country you could imagine. And of course, a gargantuan chocolate fountain in the middle of it all. 

Your stomach rumbles. Clearly, the frozen yogurt was not enough to hold you off. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve been eating college dining hall food for weeks now, and are probably going to throw up if you have to have dry beef one more time. 

“If you want to, you should try the caviar. It’s delicious. Avoid the eggplant, it tastes like foot, but the brussel sprouts are delicious. Kimchi’s good, too. Classic,” Chaewon instructs as you walk around the tables, placing servings the size of quarters onto your plate just so you can have a taste of everything. Chaewon sticks to some ribs, pan-seared salmon, and a vegetable so expensive you’ve never even heard of it before. 

“Im Chaewon, is that you?”

“Mrs. Kim!”

A strange older woman comes up to the two of you as you’re dishing up, and Chaewon’s face immediately lights up. The woman goes in for a hug, a barely-touching pat of the shoulders and hands. Over her shoulder, you watch as Chaewon rolls her eyes and pulls a face. 

“How are you, dear? You look so grown up,” Mrs. Kim says. You watch as the light slowly fades from Chaewon’s eyes with each second that passes. 

“I’m very well, Mrs. Kim. Did you get your hair done? It makes you look so youthful.” Chaewon’s a master. She glares at you when Mrs. Kim isn’t looking, raising her eyebrows as if to say learn, young padawan. This is how it’s done. They go on for a couple minutes, showering fake compliments on each other as you slowly begin to eat. You scrunch your nose up. Chaewon’s right. The eggplant does taste like foot. 

“And who is this?” Mrs. Kim asks, turning her focus onto you. You look up like a deer in headlights, a brussel sprout puffing your cheek. You were not meant to mingle and eat at the same time. 

“This is one of my closest friends, Y/N,” Chaewon introduces for you. You nod your hello, chewing the brussel sprout in the most nondescript manner possible in an effort to save whatever is left of your dignity. “She’s pre-law.”

You are not pre-law.

“Oh, how wonderful! You must have a lot you want to accomplish in life,” Mrs. Kim says. God, you couldn’t care less about how Mrs. Kim feels about you.

“Yes, definitely,” you say awkwardly. 

“We really must be going, Mrs. Kim. My parents will want me to make sure I do my rounds,” Chaewon says, a hand on your arm as she makes to get you both the fuck out of there. 

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Kim concedes, sending you and Chaewon one final goodbye before moving on to find her next victim. 

When she leaves, Chaewon seems to let out the biggest exhale of her life. “Holy fucking shit, I thought she’d never leave,” she exclaims, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in a single go. “She’s an associate of my father’s, so she’s always trying to kiss my damn ass. Like, sorry that you need to brown-nose your boss and his daughter just so you bribe your idiot son’s way into college.”

“You like mingling, I take?” You joke. 

“Just murder me.”

“Have any tips?”

“Flex as hard as possible without actually flexing. Try to speak to people your age because they are usually more bearable than people older than you. The best conversationalists are anybody under the age of ten,” Chaewon tells you. She picks up another glass of Prosecco. “Want some champagne?” 

“You have it,” you tell her. “I think you need it more than I do.”

Chaewon shrugs. Not as if they’re running out any time soon. She gulps it down and places it on the tray of one of the caterers as they whiz by her. 

The rest of the night passes by in the same way the beginning of it did. Chaewon drags you around the penthouse, talking with her father’s business partners and associates and their sons and daughters and husbands and wives for no more than two minutes each before moving on. She’s got her technique down pat. Greet, compliment, shade, flex, compliment, say goodbye. It’s foolproof, because you immediately notice that everyone else in the room has adopted the same approach. 

Business gatherings like these are just one big game of who can be the most-liked and the least-liked at the same time. And the answer: everybody, all at once. 

Halfway through the evening, Chaewon collapses against the back wall, totally unafraid of the possibility of the glass giving out behind her. She doesn’t care. If it breaks, it breaks. 

“Tired?”

“I just need a break,” Chaewon declares. “Because everyone in here is so fucking fake, and you’re the only one I can talk to without wanting to rip out my eardrums.”

“I’m honored,” you say sarcastically. 

“When I say you’re the only honest one here, I mean it,” Chaewon says. You lean back against the wall next to her, looking out into a sea of people in fancy clothes with fancy food and fancy friends. “Look at all these people, Y/N. All these fucking people, and you’re the only one who’s true.”

And then, you spot him. 

He’s far away, standing in a group of people you don’t recognize, a hand on the small of another girl’s back. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, tight-fitting and tailored, a silver watch sparkling on his wrist as he adjusts his sleeves. One of the other young men in the group says something funny, and he tilts his head back to laugh, chuckling as the girl beside him curls into his arms. 

You suppose it would have been ignorant of you to assume Jungkook was elsewhere on a night like this, at a gathering where everybody who knows anybody is here. 

Jungkook must not know you’re here. He mustn't, otherwise he would have come over to find you. You must have entered at different times, spent the night wandering around different parts of the penthouse. Clinging onto Chaewon’s arms, you must have avoided his gaze, and he, yours. 

Chaewon hasn’t spotted him either. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better, if you’re the only one stuck with the knowledge that he’s here tonight. Chaewon would pity you. Other people would ask you how you knew such a worldly, experienced man like him. And you would spend the night wallowing in sadness, wondering why it’s never you that gets to spend the night next to him. 

From this distance, you can see Jungkook perfectly. The light from the moon shines down on him like a goddamn spotlight, catching the sparkling on his wrist, leaving a silver gleam in his slicked back hair. You watch as he laughs, smiles, talks, grins and beams and socializes. Of course he’s here. Of course. He’s so good at this, so good at being real and genuine and happy. 

Chaewon says the only person in the room who is true is you, but how can that be? How can that be when Jungkook, the most honest, wonderful, real person you know, is standing in front of you? You aren’t honest. You aren’t true and real and whole. You stand on the sidelines, a wallflower in a room of daisies and roses, and pine from afar. Watch as he pretends to date a girl that’s not you, wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her cheek, and you act like everything is alright. 

It sucks, being trapped like this for fear of him seeing you. You know that would be worse—if he saw you standing alone and decided to take matters into his own hands. Seeing him up close in a penthouse like this, a movie set, shimmering and sparkling, it would be worse. Jungkook pulls the girl beside him in close to his side, smiling as he listens to someone else speak. She’s the perfect height in those heels, just tall enough to rest her head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. You imagine them walking into the room together, hand in hand. Imagine them posing for the pictures like a real couple, a pair of celebrities. 

You suppose you have no reason to be jealous of her, of him, of what they have. Jealousy is when resenting someone for having something that you once had. You never had a life like that with Jungkook. You’ll never have a life like that with him. Never get dressed up to go out, never get to be his date to an event. Never get pictures taken of you as a couple, never feed each other candies and strawberries dipped in chocolate. You can’t be jealous of her. You were never in the running to begin with. 

“Ready to get back out there?” Chaewon asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. 

A waiter comes by with a tray of champagne flutes, offering it to the both of you. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chaewon tells you as she takes a glass for herself. 

You sigh, casting another glance over at Jungkook. He and his date are moving around now, joining another social circle on the opposite side of the penthouse. He looks so at ease, so comfortable. He belongs there, in the middle of it all, talking and laughing and grinning. And you? You belong back at home, underneath your duvet covers playing a game of Mario Kart. Not here. 

You shake your head. You could use a drink or two in this state. “I’d love one, actually. Thank you.”

That night, you stay at Chaewon’s place. 

“You’ve been acting weird.”

“Hello to you, as well,” you say with a scowl as Chaewon sits down across from you at the local ramen place. 

“Listen,” Chaewon begins, “I’ve been thinking. You need to confess to Jungkook.”

You nearly spit out the complimentary water you were served. “Excuse me?”

“You need to. You’ve been acting weird and that’s the only thing that’s going to fix it,” Chaewon declares. 

“What do you mean I’ve been ‘acting weird’? Care to explain?” You ask, offended. You haven’t been acting weird. Well, that weird. Maybe a little weird.

“Jungkook told me you haven’t seen each other for the last eight days,” Chaewon points out. Eight days? It’s more like seven and a half. Not that you’ve been counting, or anything. 

“So? We’re busy people,” you defend. It’s a good enough excuse. You’re sophomores in college. You have classes. Clubs. You have to meal prep. 

“So? You guys are best friends. You make time to see each other at three in the fucking morning if you haven’t seen each other yet that day. And you haven’t seen each other for eight whole days? What’s wrong with you?” Chaewon demands. 

“Nothing! What the heck, I invite you out to a best friend ramen date and you just blaspheme all over me like this?” You accuse. This is not how you imagined today to be going. This isn’t how you imagined this week to be going. “Besides, it’s only been seven and a half days. He’s over-exaggerating.”

“Seven and a—holy fuck, you are literally the worst. Can you just stop resisting? If you tell him, everything will be fine and go back to the way things were,” Chaewon says, blinking, flabbergasted. 

“No, they will not,” you hiss. “Everything will change if I tell him. We’re best friends, Chae. Imagine if I told you that I loved you. What would you do?”

“I’d love you back, that’s what!” Chaewon tells you. “You deserve to be loved back, Y/N. Nothing would change between us. I already love you. You’re one of my most favorite people ever. I would never regret something if it was with you.”

“It’s different with him, though,” you try to explain. You don’t know why—you just know that it is. The way you’re friends with Chaewon and the way you’re friends with Jungkook are entirely separate. You love Chaewon. You’re not in love with Chaewon. 

“Is it? How?” Chaewon says. 

“I don’t know, I just—it’s different with him.” There’s no way to describe it. Jungkook appeared in your life and it was as if everything just clicked into place. There isn’t a single thing in your life that makes more sense to you than Jungkook. “It’s always been different with him. With you, I—I knew that we would become really close friends once we started talking a lot more in the beginning of freshman year. But with him—I don’t know. From the moment I met him, I knew that I would fall in love with him. When he said hello to me, I was fucked. There’s never been any hope for me, Chae. I just have to live like this forever.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. “No, you don’t. You don’t even see what the fuck is right in front of you.”

“You?”

“God, I’m friends with idiots. Literal idiots. How you guys have made it through nearly a year and a half of college is beyond me,” Chaewon says to nobody in particular. “Seriously, tell me, Y/N. What do you think will happen if you tell him? Just out of curiosity.”

“I don’t know—” you pause. A lot of things. He tells you he just wants to stay friends. He rejects you because he’s not interested that way and you can’t really be friends anymore because it’s weird now. He’s already interested in somebody else. He’s already dating somebody else and you never even knew. He’s not looking for a relationship right now. Things get awkward because you confessed to your best friend that you’re in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same. You end up never speaking to each other. You never see each other. You go through the rest of university seeing each other on the Green by chance and not knowing what to do. You graduate and move on with your lives. And suddenly, he’s just a past friend you used to have. No longer a part of your life. No longer given the chance to. “He rejects me. We never speak again and have to avoid each other at all costs. He lets me down easy and I feel like a total loser for having confessed in the first place. There’s a lot.”

“Jesus, Y/N. Aren’t you forgetting a possibility?” Chaewon says, eyebrows raised high. 

“I’m omitting a lot of them,” you tell her. Including the one where, in the next three years, you end up in a hellish dystopian wasteland and you have to band together to survive but it’s awkward and terrible because you love him still and he doesn’t feel the same, never has and never will, and now you have to fight off zombies and a corrupt autocratic government all while dealing with your own goddamn feelings. That may be the most unbearable one of them all. 

“How about the one where he actually feels the same?”

“Too unrealistic,” you tell Chaewon. It’s the truth. Why else would Jungkook be traipsing around with beautiful, rich, worldly girls on his nights off? He does it for the money, sure, but he likes it. He loves the experience, loves living that sort of life. You’d never be able to provide that for him. “You know that’s never going to happen, Chae. We’re just friends.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, he thinks that we’re just friends. And I’m not gonna fuck everything up by telling him that I’ve been madly in love with him for the past year and a half.” You can think of nothing worse. 

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe he thinks that the two of you are just friends because you refuse to actually show him how you feel?” Chaewon asks pointedly, eyebrows raised in disapproval. She looks about ready to walk out of the restaurant. “You never do things to give him a reason to think otherwise.”

“Why would I?” 

When your ramen arrives, Chaewon takes a deep breath, downs the rest of her glass of water, and moves on. It’s clear that if she thinks about this any more, her head will explode. 

Nothing’s ever going to change between you and Jungkook. You knew, when you first met him, that it was always going to hurt like this. That loving him was something you had to sacrifice to stay close to him. He lights up every fucking room he walks into, and it’s all you can do not to sit there and bask in his warmth. You would rather catch a single one of his rays than be in the darkness. And if being friends with him means that friends is all you’ll ever be, then so be it. You’re lucky to have him like this. Why take the plunge? 

“Just—” Chaewon says as you begin to pull apart the noodles in your own bowl. “I know that you aren’t as happy as you could be right now. And you deserve to be happy, Y/N. You deprive yourself of all of these wonderful things, and I just want you to know that you deserve every single one of them. But telling him? That’s something that even I know would make you the happiest. You shouldn’t live like this, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re missing out on if you do.”

The streak of not seeing Jungkook ends the next day, when you come back from an evening grocery store run to find him standing outside your door, hand about to knock on the wood. He’s all dressed up again, button-down and slacks, hair styled and parted, and you watch as he takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s waiting for the best time to knock. 

“Jungkook?”

He practically jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, nearly tripping over his own feet as he lays his eyes on you. 

“Oh, Y/N!” He exclaims. “I was just about to see if you were home.”

“You could have just texted, you know,” you say jokingly, joining him at the front door as you fumble for your keys. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Jungkook admits sheepishly. 

“Well, make it up to me by helping me unpack these,” you demand, kicking the door open as you reach down to grab your reusable canvas bags filled with groceries. Immediately, Jungkook is leaning down to grab all of them for you, hauling them inside like they weigh nothing. You stare as he heads over to your kitchen without breaking a sweat, biceps clenching as he lifts the groceries up onto the counter. 

“What’d you get?” Jungkook asks, slowly beginning to take out the groceries. He’s in your apartment so often that he’s memorized where all of your food goes, from the correct shelf in the fridge for produce to the proper cabinet for cereal. 

“Just like… groceries. I saw a box of peppermint chocolate bars that I thought you might like, they’re in there somewhere,” you say mindlessly, pointing to a random canvas bag. Immediately, Jungkook abandons his putting-away-groceries duty to fish through each of the bags, hunting for the box of goodies. “And I got some cheap Trader Joe’s wine. You know. Just for emergencies.”

“Trader Joe’s wine and peppermint chocolate bars,” Jungkook comments, nodding in approval. He finally finds the box and tears it open sideways. “Sounds like a perfect dessert if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What, did you eat already?” You ask, busting out the wine and a couple of mugs, because you don’t own any wine glasses. Nothing says cultured like drinking seven-dollar wine out of mugs with kitschy sayings like “don’t talk to me until this is empty” or “coffee is my first love” written on them. 

Jungkook shrugs. He grabs the box and heads over to your couch, already kicking back and relaxing. “Yeah, I went to some restaurant for another double date,” Jungkook says. “It was one of those places where everything is so expensive but the portions are the size of my fist. Of your fist.”

“You sound hungry,” you note, filling up the mugs and joining him. “And mad.”

“I’m getting reimbursed for the money I spent tonight, so I suppose I could be angrier. But I’m starving. Let’s finish this entire box of chocolates and do nothing else.”

“Your words, not mine,” you say, although his proposal sounds more than appealing to you. 

You turn the television on for some background noise, switching to a channel showing old reruns of unsolved serial killer cases, because nothing sets the mood better than the words “then, slowly, he took the knife with which he killed her and began to slice away at her body”. Jungkook doesn’t seem to pay the television any attention, though, instead focused entirely on the chocolate in front of him, calling his name. 

He takes an enormous bite out of one before moaning far too sexually for your liking, tossing his head back in bliss. “Oh my God.”

“Good?”

Jungkook moans again in response.

“Please don’t orgasm on this couch. Who knows what other bodily fluids were on here before we bought it,” you ask calmly. 

“I’d say that’s nasty, but you guys did cover this with one of those couch covers, so it’s not like my body is coming into contact with other people’s body stains,” Jungkook reasons. The couch cover is the single best purchase you’ve made this entire year. Possibly your entire life. “But they’re delicious. You made a good purchase.”

“I thought you would like them,” you say. “You’re the only person I know who actually likes the combination of mint and chocolate.”

“People who say that it tastes like toothpaste are brushing their teeth with the wrong kind of toothpaste,” he tells you pointedly. “I don’t understand. This is God’s combination. It’s perfect.”

“As long as you love it, that’s all that matters,” you tell him with a pat on his back, breaking off a square of the chocolate bar for yourself. It is pretty good, even if mint chocolate ice cream does sometimes taste like toothpaste. But you’d never tell Jungkook that, of course. 

Jungkook takes a swig of the wine, picking up the mug and gulping down about half of it, the wine bitter on his tongue. “Goes great with this wine, too,” he jokes. You take a sip yourself. It’s… not very good. Actually, rather sticky. No wonder it was only seven dollars. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, I know it tastes like ass,” you tell him honestly. To be fair, you and Jungkook have both had worse. Compared to the shit served at frat parties, this may as well be beautifully-aged Malbec. 

“It only tastes a little bit like ass,” Jungkook compromises. “But it doesn’t not taste like ass.”

“Let’s finish it now so we don’t have to have any more of it later,” you decide. “You’ve probably had some of the best alcohol in your life this semester.”

Jungkook thinks back, tilting his head to the side as he begins to recall all of the instances in the past few months when he’s had anything to drink. “Soju’s still my favorite. But yeah, I’d say I’ve had wine that probably costs more than my textbooks for this semester if I hadn’t pirated them all.”

“The beauty of being a CS student,” you muse. 

“You know it,” he says, holding his half-empty mug out as a toast to himself. “But seriously, even if this Trader Joe’s wine literally tasted like garbage, it would still be better than all of that other shit.”

You turn to him, skeptical. Even the single night you spent with Chaewon, in a penthouse amongst the stars, drinking champagne and eating strawberries dipped in chocolate, was more than you could ever dream of. You woke up the next day on an air mattress in her bedroom and wanted nothing more than to go back to basking in the luxury, desperate for another taste. It was addicting. How could Jungkook ever prefer what he has right now to what he had last night? 

“Really? Don’t say that just to make me feel better,” you tell him. You can take it. Jungkook has every reason to prefer the fancy meals, the penthouses, the suits and ties to your janky little apartment and old clothes from high school. The two aren’t at all on the same level. They’re not even in the same goddamn game. If you could drop everything to have what Chaewon has, what the other girls and boys who pay for Jungkook’s company have, you would. 

“I’m not,” Jungkook tells you seriously. “I mean it. I would rather sit in your room, hunched over your tiny Switch because you lost the HDMI cord to plug it into the television, playing Mario Kart than out there, pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“But it was fun in the beginning, wasn’t it? Getting to be rich without the moral ambiguity that comes along with being part of the upper class?” You ask. It must have been. Jungkook looked so happy when he first started doing these gigs, coming back to your apartment in a state of bliss, a little tipsy from the expensive champagne and steak. He’d knock on your door and tell you all about the night, from how older businessmen handed him their cards and offered him jobs, to the hundreds of ice cream flavors you could only ever dream of eating. Everything seemed so wonderful to him.

Jungkook shrugs, pouring himself more wine. “Yeah, I guess, but it gets so old after a while. Like, no wonder Chaewon was so desperate for me to go with her that first time. It sucks the damn life out of you. You walk around and mingle and pretend that you’re the greatest person on Earth, talking about yourself and kissing up to the other people for an entire night. Honestly, sometimes it’s worse than my CS homework. And I hate that shit.”

“Chaewon mentioned that the eggplant usually tastes like foot,” you add. Jungkook nods in agreement. 

“Yeah, it does. She warned me about it the first night and I, like a fool, tried it because I usually like eggplant. And it still tasted like foot. Never again,” Jungkook says, shivering at the mere thought of it. It’s funny, actually, because you did the exact same thing. “But the food is like, the one thing I pretty much don’t have the right to complain about. It’s delicious and usually free.”

“But I hope that you’re having fun,” you tell him honestly, because you do. When you’re sitting in your room, eating two different pints of Ben & Jerry’s, you hope that Jungkook, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, is enjoying himself more than you are. Because he deserves it. You never want there to be a time when he’s sad, when he’s unhappy or bored. Jungkook deserves to live the happiest version of life he possibly can. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“I do,” Jungkook says. There’s a second half to that sentence. “I do—it’s just that… It's so fake, you know? I feel like such a goddamn actor when I’m there. I get to live this extravagant lifestyle for a few hours but in return I don’t even know who I’m looking at when I look in the mirror.”

Oh?

“Like, I pretend to be this business student, when I’m not. I pretend to have millions of dollars to my name, when I don’t. I hold hands and pose for pictures with people Chaewon is vaguely familiar with and nothing, literally nothing, feels real. I don’t know.” Jungkook takes another swig from the mug. “Even the relationships I have when I’m there are fake.”

“Do you hate it that much, then?” You ask him. If it’s so awful and terrible, then why does he keep doing it? Keep dressing up and going out, holding hands with and wrapping his arm around them?

“No,” Jungkook says, sighing as he leans back into the couch. “I don’t hate it. I just—I wish I had something real afterwards to come back home to.”

Real? Like what? Like you? You aren’t real. You sit next to your best friend and pretend that everything is fine. That nothing hurts. You’ve had the biggest crush on him ever since you laid eyes on him, and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure that he’s the only one that doesn’t know. 

“That’s why I’m always coming back to your apartment afterwards,” Jungkook says. He chuckles, but it isn’t his usual laugh. It sounds forced, contrived and fake. Jaded. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it almost immediately. Then, he breathes, long and slow. Thinks. The silence is almost unbearable. Waiting to hear what he has to say, even more so. “You’re the most genuine person I know. What we share—it’s real.”

Tonight is the least lonely you’ve felt in a long time. 

Even though Jungkook has something tonight, you aren’t aching to be by his side, desperate to spend more time with him. He told you that he was really looking forward to this one, that it wasn’t going to be some stuffy gala or blind double date. He said something about going to karaoke with the girl and her friends, singing Britney Spears songs and taking shots of soju for hours on end, screaming his voice hoarse. And even if you aren’t there with him, you’re happy because you know that he’s happy, that he’s genuinely enjoying himself. 

So, you aren’t that lonely. 

Content with the state of your life as it is, you take the night off, ready to prepare yourself for a weekend that will almost certainly consist entirely of just work. Chaewon’s voice echoes in your mind (“I know that you aren’t as happy as you could be right now,” she had told you), but it’s different now. Because you are happy. You are happy, because Jungkook’s happy. The two of you see each other just as frequently as you used to. He texts you about his terrible CS homework and the Shiba Inu he just saw being walked across campus. It’s all gone back to the way it used to be. That’s what you had wanted. 

You were prepared for this. You knew that it would eventually boil down to this, down to whether or not you could take Jungkook not knowing how you feel any longer. But right now, you don’t care. Jungkook not knowing has always been a part of your friendship. The love you hold for him, in the spaces between your bones and deep in the cracks of your heart, that has always been there. You see it, hear it, feel it, whenever you’re with him. Even when you’re not with him, it will remind you, appear in the silence, the emptiness. It will always make itself known, because it’s become a part of you. From the moment you met him, it had settled into your heart.

Staring out of the window by your living room, overlooking the ugliest parking garage on campus, you sigh. You can’t see the stars from here, not even in the dead of night, but that’s alright. There is something so peaceful about the navy blue sky. About how mysterious and unknown it is. It calms you. You put on a movie that you’ve genuinely been wanting to watch for a while, sit down in your bed, amongst your duvet and sheets, pillows and plushies, and enjoy yourself, for once. It’s a good night. 

And then, much like most aspects of your terribly convoluted, over-complicated and confusing life, it all comes crashing down. 

There’s a faint thud from outside, a soft little non-noise that you assume is coming from the street. Not wanting to interrupt your movie—she’s just about to confess, holy shit—you ignore it. It’ll go away eventually. 

Then another thud. You pause, leaning towards your window to see if you can figure out the source. Silence. You’re just about to press play, when you hear it again. And again. It gets louder and louder, making up in volume what it lacks in rhythm and order, until you realize it’s someone knocking on your door. And not just knocking casually. It’s as if someone is shoving their whole body into it, shoulders and chest and feet hitting the wood as they bang on it. 

“Y/N?”

Oh, God.

Pushing off your duvet, you tug on your slippers and wipe away the crust around your eyes as you rush towards the door. You know who’s on the other side. You’re not sure if answering it is the better or worse option. 

You’ve always had an uncanny ability to pick the latter. 

When you open the door, Jungkook, in a fancy sweater pulled over a white button down and black jeans that could almost pass for dressy slacks, is standing on the other side. 

Correction: he’s sort of standing on the other side. He nearly topples over when you pull open the door, having clearly been leaning on it, and you barely have time to reach your arms out to catch him. 

“Oh! Y/N!” Jungkook exclaims, as if he’s surprised to see you inside your own apartment. “I was hoping to see you.”

“I figured,” you tell him, laughing. You guide him inside, and even in his state he remembers to tug off his clean white sneakers, kicking them towards the shoe rack. “It’s so late, Jungkook, you should go home.” 

“No,” Jungkook whines. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

“We saw each other this morning, Jungkook. And this afternoon, right before you went out,” you remind him. The words go in one ear and out the other, and he pulls you in close to him, wrapping his arms around you as he presses his body against yours in a sweaty hug. His grip is tight around you as he rests his head on your shoulder, breathing you in as if you’d been gone for years. Slowly, after a few seconds, you pull away from him, a hand on his shoulder to get him to look at you through his too-long bangs, hanging over his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? I’m right here, don’t worry. I never left.”

“I had a lot to drink tonight,” Jungkook tells you, blinking rapidly. “Like, a lot. They just kept ordering soju and I just kept drinking it. It was really good. Have you had strawberry soju? It’s delicious.”

“I might have had it once or twice,” you fib, not able to recall having it one way or another. “Come on, sit down,” you point him towards the couch, but he refuses, clinging onto you even as you make your way towards the kitchen. “Jungkook, please, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“But I missed you,” Jungkook repeats. “I missed you a lot. I thought about you the entire time I was there.”

You can’t say you didn’t do the same. 

“Next time we’ll do something together then, hey? Something really fun, like going to an arcade or bowling,” you promise him with a pat on his shoulder. “But you need to drink some water, JK. Can you please sit down?”

“No, I want to be with you,” Jungkook says like it’s nothing. Like the feeling of him wrapped around you like this, holding onto you and telling you that he misses you, that he thinks about you, doesn’t mean anything. You don’t think your heart has beaten since you opened the door to see him standing on the other side. 

(You don’t think it’s beaten since you met him. Since he came up to you on the pavement, asking you for directions. Since you told him your name, and he told you his.)

“Ah, fine, just be careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you concede, because it’s so easy to let him have his way, so easy to say yes to him. You manage to grab an empty water bottle and fill it up with what’s left in your Brita, too lazy to refill it after it’s left bone dry. Slowly, you make your way to your bedroom, out of view of the central living space, where your roommates could burst through the door at any moment and see you taking care of your drunk best friend on the sofa. 

Slowly, you settle on your bed, sitting off of the edge of it as you cajole him into drinking some water, whispering soft nothings to make sure he finishes the whole thing. 

“Does your head hurt or anything?” You ask him, already looking around for the stash of Advil you usually keep on your nightstand.

“No, no, I’m fine, Y/N, seriously,” he promises, even if you can see the glazed-over look in his eyes, the way his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead. “You’re too nice, you know? Always treating me when I show up at your place. Even when you don’t invite me.”

“You know I never mind seeing you,” you tell him. “You can come over whenever you want. I’m always here.”

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook says with a pout, and it makes you furrow your brows. When have you not been? Jungkook’s been going out to events ever since the beginning of the semester, and without fail, you’ve always been waiting for him at home, knowing he’ll turn up one way or another. Except, there was— “That one time a couple of weeks ago, I went to this crazy big gala with Eunha, there were so many people there, and I came back home afterwards and knocked on your door, and your roommates said they hadn’t seen you all day. Where were you that day?”

He had come? You didn’t know if he would. 

(Or maybe, you did. You knew he would show up at your door once he got back from that night, and selfishly, not wanting to see him after the fact, the leftover version of him, the part he leaves behind when he goes out. You knew he would be there and you couldn’t bear the thought of being the second girl he spends the night with. The other option. Maybe, you’ve known all along that you’ll never quite stack up to the girls he goes out with, and that sometimes, when you see him all dressed up while you’re in your hoodie and sweats, it reminds you is nothing more than a casual friendship.)

“I must have been out late with Chaewon that day, I’m sorry,” you apologize, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t know you would come.”

“I always come after my events. You know that.”

“I didn’t know if you’d remember to,” you correct. 

“I’d never forget about you,” Jungkook says, the alcohol erasing his filter. Making him honest. “I really missed you, that day. I had been waiting the entire night to see you.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you promise, and this one is for real. 

“You know, today?” Jungkook says, pulling his head back so he can get a good look at you, your eyes meeting his own. “Today, I was so sad on my way here. It was so terrible, because I was drunk and sad and I missed you.”

“You were sad? What happened?” You ask, leaning in. Jungkook? Sad? Who would do such a thing to him? Who would erase the smile on his face, his crescent eyes, and replace them with tears? 

“This girl and I, she was a lot of fun. We sang a couple duets together and we were pretty good,” he hiccups, “kept winning. It was fun. She and I talked for a long time. I definitely liked her the most out of all of the girls I’ve gone out with. Besides Chaewon, of course.”

“What happened? Did she do something you didn’t want? You know you can tell me, Jungkook,” you ask, a hand on his arm. 

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t know. She was fun and I was drunk. We were on our way back in the Lyft when she leaned over and kissed me. And I kissed her back, and it was kind of nice. I haven’t really kissed someone like that in a while,” Jungkook tells you. And even though you’re hearing these words from him, hearing how he had all of this fun with a girl who isn’t you, how he kissed her in the backseat of a car, you rally, blinking away the tears you can feel forming in your eyes. It’s none of your business, you tell yourself. You and Jungkook aren’t together. You don’t get to feel bad about him kissing someone else. 

“Did you like it?” You ask, each word a pin in your chest. 

“It was pretty nice,” Jungkook admits. “We, uh, we made out a bit in the back of the car until we got to her place. And then we got out of the car and she asked me if I wanted to go back with her, to her room. And—and I almost said yes.” Jungkook looks about ready to combust. At his side, his fists are clenched so hard you’re worried he’ll pop a vein. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you tell him, looking him in the eyes so he knows that you don’t mind, that he can tell you these things without worry. Jungkook may be the love of your life, but he’s your best friend, first. He’s always been, before anything else, your best friend. 

“But there is!” Jungkook cries, standing up in anguish. “There is, Y/N, you don’t understand! I almost had sex with her!”

“You’re allowed to, Jungkook!” You assure him, standing up to reach out to him. 

“No, Y/N, you don’t get it,” he tells you coldly, pulling his hand away. “Why aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry that I nearly had sex with her?”

“No, what the fuck, Jungkook, why would I be mad?” You shout back at him. “You can do whatever you want with your body, it’s not my job to police it! I’m your friend, not your mom!”

“But don’t you want to be more, Y/N?” He rounds on you. “Don’t you want to be the one kissing me, fucking me? Why aren’t you jealous?”

“Were you trying to make me jealous, Jungkook? Is that what you were trying to do? You wanted to get a reaction out of me because my best friend nearly fucked someone else and then didn’t? What the fuck, Jungkook? What do you want from me?”

“I just want you to tell me you fucking love me back!”

“Jungkook, what—”

Jungkook, eyes dark and furious, pushes you against your closet door as your lips part, feeling the breath get knocked out of your lungs. He’s so close. He’s right there, you can see him, watch as he looms over you, hands clenched in your hoodie as he presses you against the wall. And then, wordlessly, he’s leaning down, crashing your mouths together. 

Suddenly, your heart starts. You gasp into the kiss, the feeling of his mouth on top of yours. It’s fervent, hot and angry and passionate, his body against your own as your hands reach out to press against his head. You seize up at the feeling, almost as if in shock, before melting into his touch, leaning into him, desperate. You can feel his breath mixing in with your own, feel the way his chapped lips meet your overly-moisturized ones, feel how his hands drift from where they’re bunched up in the front of your hoodie to your waist, your hips, your thighs. Jungkook kisses ruthlessly, kisses like he’s trying to prove a point. Holds onto you like he’s afraid to let go. 

When you part, gasping for air, Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, blinking. 

“Jungkook, you’re drunk—” you tell him firmly, refusing to let get your hopes up if what you have in front of you is really just an intoxicated best friend. Your heart is beating miles a minute, about ready to thump right out of you, chest heaving and mouth agape. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Jungkook argues back. “Even when I’m sober I love you. Don’t tell me I’m confused because I’m drunk.”

“You show up at my place at one in the morning, tell me about how you made out with some other girl and almost slept with her just to get me angry, kiss me, and tell me not to tell you you’re confused?” You demand. “Jungkook, I’ve never been more confused in my life than right now, can you please just—”

“I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook says, and even though he’s angry, red in the face and sweaty, when he says it, it’s soft. It’s a whisper, a murmur. He says it not to convince you, but so you know. “I’ve been in love with you for so goddamn long, ever since I fucking met you. And I thought you might like me back but you never did anything about it, and so neither did I.”

“You need to go home, Jungkook,” you tell him, hiccuping. When you blink, you feel the warm tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even noticed them. “You can’t just come into my apartment and tell me shit like that. How do you think it makes me feel?”

“Do you feel the same, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, looking you in the eyes. He’s angry, that’s for sure, but even underneath, you can see the desperation, see how he’s just waiting for an answer. 

“Go home, Jungkook. Please. Let’s talk about this when you aren’t drunk, okay? I’m confused and I need to clear my head,” you plead, pushing him towards the door. “Please, okay? Be safe, too. I’ll call Chaewon to give you a ride,” you tell him, grabbing your phone. 

Jungkook puts a hand on your wrist. “I’ll be okay, Y/N. I just… Please, tell me. Did that kiss mean anything to you?”

“Yes, it did, but Jungkook, I can’t—”

“It meant something to me, too,” he tells you firmly, lets the words sink into the air around you.  He heads for the door, pulling on his shoes. He looks so sad. “Good night, Y/N.”

You place a hand on the doorknob. “Good night, Jungkook.”

It’s barely nine in the morning the next day when a knock wakes you up. It’s soft at first, one every couple of seconds, before it gets progressively louder. Slowly, you get out of bed, trying to tame your hair as you rub the sleep from your eyes. 

“Y/N’s in her room. Is that for her? That’s so cute. Yeah, she’s probably awake. You can just knock.” It’s your roommate. 

You scramble to make your bed, pouring some water from the water bottle by your nightstand into your hand and splashing your face, wiping it away with an old t-shirt as you run towards the door, pulling it open just in time. 

On the other side is a much more tired, much less drunk Jungkook, one hand raised and about to knock, the other holding a bouquet of daisies. 

“Hey,” he says shyly, mouth breaking into a smile the moment he sees you. 

“Hey,” you say back. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, head hurts like hell, though,” Jungkook says. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, s-sure, of course,” you say, stepping aside to let him into your bedroom. 

“These are for you.” Jungkook holds out the bouquet towards you, wrapped up neatly in cellophane and tied at the stems with a bow. “So you don’t have to keep Febreze-ing your room all of the time.”

“They’re beautiful, Jungkook,” you tell him, grinning as you take them from his hands. Today feels different from yesterday. It feels lighter, fresher. New. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I—” He pauses, taking a second to think, “I meant what I said, yesterday. Maybe not all of it, but. Most of it, yeah. I meant it.”

“Why did you try to make me jealous, Jungkook?” You ask him. “Why did you think that would work?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook admits. “I shouldn’t have, and I fucked up. I just got so… so tired of waiting to see if you’d ever come around. I just wanted you to tell me. And then I guess I got so fed up that I told you instead.”

You place the bouquet on your dresser before walking towards him, reaching a hand out. “Yeah, that was a pretty big asshole move of you,” you chide, grinning to yourself. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighs. 

“But I’m happy you’re here,” you tell him. “And happy that you meant what you said. Maybe it could have been said in a less angry way, but hearing it made me happy.”

“I’m happy that you’re happy.” Jungkook grins. “You’re my favorite person, Y/N.”

“When you asked me, yesterday, if that kiss meant anything to me? And I said it did?” You begin, Jungkook nodding in front of you. He’s positively beaming. “It still does. I want to do that every day, Jungkook. Every hour. Every single second for the rest of my goddamn life.”

“You do?” Jungkook asks. 

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook. From day one, it’s always been you.” You smile, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. Feels like you’re fucking flying. Like you’re weightless. 

“I love you, too, Y/N. I never want to be away from your side,” he declares, and like a cheesy, rom-com movie, like the shitty novels you used to read in eighth grade, he pulls you in close and presses a kiss against your lips. Wraps his arms around your waist as he holds you tight, kisses you in the middle of your bedroom, in your hoodie and sweatpants, a bouquet of daisies on your dresser. He kisses you because he can, because for every second of every day for the rest of your goddamn life, he can kiss you, over and over and over. 

“We owe Chaewon an apology,” you tell him when you’re parted, sitting on your bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms. 

“Hell yeah we do,” Jungkook agrees. “She’s been on my ass for ages about telling you.”

“Mine too.”

“She’s such a great best friend,” Jungkook comments. “Knew all this time that her two friends were madly in love with each other and didn’t say a damn word to either of us. That’s loyalty.”

“We should do something for her, to make up for it all,” you suggest. 

“You know,” Jungkook says, grinning, “I know this guy who made bank this semester by going on fake dates with a bunch of really rich girls. Maybe he could help.”

“I know him, too,” you joke. “He’s the love of my fucking life.”

Jeon Jungkook quits his job on the ninety-eighth day of the fall semester of his sophomore year.

You know this because on the ninety-eighth day of the fall semester of your sophomore year, he comes banging on the door of your apartment shared with three other girls at 7:18PM, eighteen minutes after he normally heads out on one of his many dates. 

“Y/N!” He shouts, banging wildly on your door. You rush over to open it, letting the pasta water on the stove boil over and sizzle on the heat. He’s barely gotten in a second knock when you turn the doorknob to reveal your smiling boyfriend in his oversized hoodie.

“Don’t tell me you’re blowing someone off for me,” you say, inviting him inside. He places a kiss on your cheek on the way in, taking off his shoes and coat as you rush over to take care of the pasta.

“Me? Blowing someone off? Never,” Jungkook says, mock offended. “I actually quit the dating thing, this afternoon. A girl asked if I was free and I said that I wasn’t, because I have to go home to my girlfriend making me a meal. Don’t you love the sound of that?” He asks, pleased with himself.

“You quit? I thought you liked doing that stuff,” you say, using the spaghetti fork to move around the linguine. “Hope you’re cool with boring old pasta for your meal tonight. You could have had caviar if you hadn’t quit.”

“I don’t care, it smells so good,” Jungkook tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he stands behind you, watching you cook from over your shoulder. “Look at you, being all domestic and shit. It’s very cute.”

“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re the better cook, I get it. Pasta is all I got right now.” You pout, turning down the heat as you move to pour yourselves two cups of tea. Jungkook follows you the entire way to the kettle, grip on your waist never faltering. “You can keep going on those dates, you know. I don’t mind. I get to see you in a suit when you get back, and then I get to take it off of you. It’s a win-win.”

Jungkook pinches your waist in response. “If you have a thing for suits, you can just tell me, you know. I won’t be mad.”

You turn around to whack him with the spaghetti fork. “I do not!”

“Alright, Y/N, guess I won’t wear a suit next time you call me at two in the morning—”

“I never said you couldn’t,” you interrupt, making Jungkook laugh. 

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” Jungkook coos as you begin to dish up the pasta, making sure to add peas because Jungkook loves peas with his spaghetti. “But I quit because I have enough money to sustain me for the rest of the semester. I’ll work over break and get a new job next semester when the new work-study positions open. Don’t worry about me,” he assures you. 

“But didn’t you like going out and everything? Getting dressed up and drinking fancy champagne?” You ask, setting the plates down at your dinky kitchen table, a single scented candle lit in the center. 

Jungkook thinks about it for a split second, and then he shakes his head. “Nah. I like hanging out with my girlfriend more.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” you reason with a grin. 

Jungkook laughs, leaning over the table to plop a kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you pea-eating loser,” you chide, “I love you too.”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

[bisluthq]

IDK where anon got the blind that joe cheated in October and will announce break up in January but this news is now all over tumblr/reddit/twitter and I can’t help but notice the toxic stans enjoying this. I mean it’s all fucked up if it is true. Though very unlikely given mama alwyn was at the premiere. Anyway, meanwhile, joe is finally following our dear Austin back on ig. It took him years. What would he wait to cheat on Taylor to do that????

Okay so this is where it comes from:

Let’s do some gossip literacy stuff.

The first flag is anon dropping Independent Talent into the story. It makes it seem like they know what they’re talking about but 1) Independent Talent isn’t Joe’s main agency lol like he barely works with them. He’s repped by CAA primarily and this has been the case since 2015 2) so why would his UK agent give a single fuck about this? His UK agent’s job is to book jobs for him in the UK not to babysit his penis 3) okay the agent was on the phone with his publicist - sure his publicist would care about such a story - and they were… going through the girl he cheated with’s Instagram? Why? What possible reason would they have to do that? Anon says “for some reason” - what would the reason be? Simon Halls is on the phone with Lizzie Newell like “doll, this girl is hot good for our boy”??? 4) how did anon’s friend… know this much… from overhearing one half of the conversation??? 5) anon says “I’d bet my life on it” and then pivots to “I don’t know anything.”

Now let’s do some analysis on why it’d be even more unlikely: why would Joe’s team care if he’s in a cheating scandal rn like why hush that up? He’s playing a cheater. If he’s in the press as a cheater it’d be really fucking good for CWF streaming figures like “he’s literally Nick Conway see he even cheated”. What would the image problem be? Swifties would be big mad but like again what would it have to do with his secondary agent?

Then let’s unpack the fact that in October he was in Croatia WITH TAYLOR lmao. And in November his mum was at Tay’s little event. So whatever happened in the intervening weeks can’t have been a big deal.

Finally, “people haven’t had the best things to say about him” is just canonically untrue. Like everyone has the best shit to say about him. Everyone can’t shut up about how sweet and kind and talented and humble and shit he is. This is literally public info and fwiw it is supported by everything anyone who meets him or works on sets with him says.

In conclusion: not a very believable rumor.

[currentlylurking]

existence... is pain

(if you’re on mobile and readmores don’t work for you I’m sorry lol)

so. I’ve officially been diagnosed with adhd and autism, in a twist that surprises no one. my therapist literally said she’d eat a shoe if they said I was neurotypical, but they didn’t, so our shoes are safe.

I’ve still been active on discord, just not on here, for a lot of reasons. long story short is I finally got out.

long story long is back in feb 2020, right before the pandemic hit, I had to move back in with my parents to get out of a Dangerous(tm) living situation. and while I love my dad, and my niece, and the cats, but that’s about where the Good Things I Can Say End.

I’ve talked about my parents’ garbage wifi before, probably - but basically, thanks to the joys of rural internet, it’s the speed of dial up. And it was that for a while, but they eventually upgraded it - to the point where it wasn’t trash everywhere in the house but my room. In my room it was still absolute garbage. In april 2021 tumblr just stopped working at all for me. I tried to download the sims 4 at one point, and the download speed went from three days to ten minutes the second I brought my computer into the living room.

‘but lurking, why didn’t you just stay in the living room then, since you do everything on your computer?‘

Because the pandemic hit and my step mom started working from home. my extremely emotionally abusive step mom. madam gaslight herself. so that was immediately off the table - it was safer to put distance between us as much as possible. Which, I mean, I tried to do?

unfortunately, she had a tendency to come into my room and tell me how horrible I was. This happened at least once a week, if not more. at first I went with it - she mostly talked about how I was selfish/manipulative and all that fun stuff. She once told me I should be ‘basically the maid’ which was great to hear. and then she told me my aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted me to live with them while I was going to school eight hours away. That felt wrong, and I managed to ask them about it a couple of weeks later.

my aunt and uncle confirmed that was an absolute lie. I lived with them for three years and while things weren’t always good, they would talk honestly about any issues. my step mom’s claim that they couldn’t wait to get rid of me was bullshit. A week later, my uncle was there when my step mom confronted me about some nonsense to do with cleaning. He complimented me on how I shut her bullshit down in a level tone.

This whole time, even if we hadn’t been in the midst of a pandemic, my parents live half an hour away on highways from any town. it wasn’t like I could go anywhere. I was trapped with my step mom all day, every day, with her regularly breaking down any self confidence I’d managed to build. I’d give my dad updates, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could realistically do.

and then febuary 2021 hit. In january, I decided to try going back to school (online only), and one day after class, my dad came in. sat down. and sadly informed me a guy I had grown up with had killed himself in december and his parents had just found a way to let us know.

I think I dealt with that pretty well? I kind of just shut that day down with a two hour shower and went right to sleep. I didn’t do much the next day, either - just sort of idly wrote with a friend. but at dinner that night my step mom made a snide comment about how my dad had cleaned the kitchen (’my’ job) that morning and stared at me. so that was the proverbial straw. Her tone, the way she stared at me - it was not great. I replied ‘I know.‘

She burst into my room later and declared that I was done writing with my friend, and that I had to clean the kitchen now. so I, boo boo the foole, tried to have a level conversation with her. I sat across from her in the living room and said that I had just learned my friend died, and that I was grieving.

She told me she didn’t care.

she interrupted me with everything I tried to say, and made it clear that she didn’t care I was grieving - because I wasn’t doing exactly what she told me to, exactly when she wanted it done. Of course, if I had, it still would’ve been wrong.

I told her I would no longer be speaking to her without a third party present and that I was done trying to win her affection. she would, of course, not respect that.

I contacted my college within the next few days, booked counselling, and I started trying to get out. My dad and I officially started using ‘abuse‘ instead of dancing around the word. eventually, she stopped coming into my room so often - she’d corner me in the living room instead after my dad was in bed - but every time we had an encounter like this it was more of the same. more of the abuse. saying you’ll stop caring and actually not caring are two very different things, you know? having someone constantly tell you how awful you are SUCKS.

I failed most of my classes between the garbage internet and her abuse. because of course I did.

In may, we had another huge fight. one of her cats, Theo, has always been pretty firm that I’m her person. Even now, every time theo sees me, she’s attached to my side - which is pretty impressive for such a skittish cat. It doesn’t help that in 2019 my step mom had threatened to put her down for ‘behaviour‘ - but that’s a whole nother pile of bullshit.

anyway. my step mom decided I was banned from cats after my niece left a bunch of stuff on the floor and a cat peed on it. I don’t have a significant sense of smell - she accused me of making that up. I said I could put a litterbox in my room - she said no because I wouldn’t clean it.

the two litterboxes the six cats currently had were only cleaned once every two weeks, if that, but again, a whole nother pile of bullshit.

Anyway, about an hour after that went down (and I called her out for the fifth-ish time for gaslighting me about how she said she was giving up on me when I was a teenager) she popped back into my room to say that I was banned from cats because I didn’t deserve them.

Theo would still come to my door and meow every night, and sneak in every time the door was open, so she could sleep beside me. So.

There was plenty more bullshit - plenty more stupid, nonsense things, including one conversation where she spent half an hour trying to get me to echo back her words that I was a ‘selfish, manipulative bitch‘ because my dad and I wanted to go visit my grandma and I cleaned the kitchen the day he asked if she would be willing to watch my lizard. she threw a fit because he asked her, instead of me asking, and tried to get me to say that back to her. I didn’t.

We didn’t end up going to see my grandma. my dad didn’t feel comfortable leaving my pet behind in her care.

After I got banned from cats, I found a place, and a job at a petsmart to start when I moved in. I’m trying school again. It’s been about three whole months since I moved and I’m finally starting to get past all that and be a functional person again. I got myself a cat, too. Her name is Ivy. She’s not Theo, but i still love her. and Miss Molly my beardie is doing great, despite being an absolute gremlin who REALLY wants to go under my fridge.

My family is, of course, still imploding in the background. I TRIED to do invisobang but the world decided, once again, to schedule family emergencies around when I’m trying to do an event. And now I’m literally working just paid lunches away from full-time while still trying to do school. Great fun.

I’m going to try to be active on here again, but we’ll see how that goes lol. wish me luck.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Something Held | Feeding Habits Update #8

Hi all!

Not me not realizing it’s been 3 months since I posted a Feeding Habits update hahahahahaha. Today let’s chat chapter nine, SOMETHING HELD. This also marks the last chapter in Harrison’s POV so prepare to say goodbye to this icon!  TW: body horror, mental illness, trauma

Just a reminder: This is my original work and plagiarism of any form will not be tolerated.

Scene outline, excerpts & a little reflection on making difficult decisions that my not particularly benefit the book but benefit you as the writer under the cut because this update is GIGANTIC.

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed):

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting​, @aetherwrites​

Scene Breakdown

Scene A:

It has been two weeks since Lonan found Harrison at his shared apartment with Suzanna and things are getting strange. Lonan and Suz are getting closer, Harrison is getting more distant and slowly losing it. One morning, Harrison wakes hearing Lonan and Suz’s laughter, and crawls to the kitchen to investigate. When he reaches them, Suz is evening out Lonan’s hacked haircut and they’re both sobbing.

Scene B:

Shortly after this bizarre encounter, Suzanna steps out of the apartment for a breather because her son is sort of terrifying her! So Lonan and Harrison double-team to clean up Lonan’s hair shavings. Harrison begins eating the hair while Lonan stares and they have a conversation about the state of their friendship.

Scene Ba:

This scene is gross and confusing! More hair is ingested. My god.

Scene Bb:

After the above ordeal, both boys rinse off because they’ve been rolling?? around?? in??? hair?? but also?? things don’t stop being a little gross

Scene C:

An air of calm finally settles over the apartment. Lonan brews earl grey tea for him and Harrison to share and Harrison asks if he abandoned Lonan in the final chapter of Moth Work. Lonan doesn’t really answer this question so Harrison continues on his confused, but finally lucid (one-sided) conversation, admitting he understands he burdens his mother, who still has not returned. They circle back to the question of abandonment and Lonan answers Harrison the way he wants to be answered (yes), and this is a moment of freeing, where he feels some sort of responsibility in this irresponsible new life he’s led in NYC. They sort of agree to be friends again.

Scene D:

The boys head into the city to find Suzanna, heading to a bakery near the Hudson River. Lonan drives in his used car, a strange experience since Harrison has not seen him drive in years. Taking the opportunity, he searches through the car and finds a map in the glove compartment. The map is erratically scribbled over and it takes him to moment to realize this is Lonan’s map and the first indication that Lonan, who he has assumed is this stable, perfect person, is not as unscathed as he seems.

The boys pass the waterfront and Lonan nearly crashes the car into an oncoming truck. Harrison regains control of the vehicle tucking them into a side street. Shaken, Lonan apologizes for the mess he’s created both physically from his nosebleed and between Harrison and his mother, which gets Harrison a little antsy because he doesn’t like the suggestion that he’s going to leave. Lonan clarifies, stating he won’t if that’s what Harrison wants.

Scene E:

Later, everyone is back at home and Harrison wakes up to a Lonan-less bed. He gets up to investigate the strange dripping coming from the bathroom and opens the door to find Lonan precariously teetering over a sink filled with water. Harrison, concerned, moves him away and tries to ask why Lonan is presumably going underwater, but doesn’t push. They both stand on opposite sides of the bathroom until the sun rises.

My process:

Honestly, writing this chapter was a huge up and down. The first half of it came much easier to me, but the rest was a literal hellfire to get through. I think I was incredibly fatigued with writing in Harrison’s POV as I’d been writing it since June (I finished this chapter in either December or January). This book has been a pain in the ass to write despite me liking what it is, and I really think it being the only place I’ve physically “gone” since the pandemic makes it even harder to write. I felt claustrophobic in Harrison’s POV since I’ve been writing it for half a year, and in a lil ~breakdown~ my beautiful sister reminded me of something she’d previously told me, “it's not about what works, it's about what you want”.

Let’s chat about this for a sec! I think I was watching a Harmony Nice video on her “hard-to-swallow” self-care, and she basically outline (I’m paraphrasing here) that it’s critical we care for ourselves in ways that might not necessarily be easy to do. Honestly, leaving Harrison’s POV is one of those hard-to-swallow self-care things I literally had to do because my mental health was not happy with me! Y’all know my boys are very close to me, and I’m not picking favourites but Lonan is 2500 times easier for me to write with at the moment. I think Harrison’s situation and how he deals with it is much too similar to mine but in a way that is difficult to place (Lonan and I are unfortunately similar but in a way that is easier for me to understand about myself!). From the beginning of writing his POV I’ve been in Struggleville, but kept pushing through hoping the next chapter would be “the one”. Not to burst my own bubble but there is no such thing in the state of mind I was in! I was pushing myself to find something that doesn’t exist because my brain was really not equipped to do what I needed it to do. I really, really did not want to quit on Harrison’s POV, but I had to, not because I don’t like him (he’s my baby) but because I needed a moment to myself. I felt way too seen in ways I don’t really know how to address in myself, so writing him was horribly frustrating at all times (my fault, not his).

My characters really do live in my head rent-free lol. They live in there! They take up space! They take up energy! They take up concentration, and resources I need for myself! Empathy is so integral to my process, that I give a little part of myself in everything I write. This is a blessing because I really get to dig my heels into the mind of another person, but a curse because I’m not a machine (and sometimes I forget that). It is a lot of emotional energy and labour to give everything you have to fictional people. I don’t think an artist needs to be tortured to create good art (this is not it!) but I never truly practiced this well? In my attempt to be empathetic, I was torturing myself a little bit, not going to lie!

So to combat this, I decided I needed a change. Hence, this chapter is imperfect and probably needs some stuff added to it, and while I’ve only written little of Lonan’s second POV, I’m feeling a lot better! It’s nice to get “outside” in a different place lmao this is so sad (pandemic writing things).

Excerpts:

I wrote the beginning of this in a livestream I hosted on my YouTube channel! There’s also a shoutout here to my dragon tree Lisa <3 miss u boo

Two weeks go by. Lonan sleeps on the couch. Harrison wakes up at dawn—no earlier, no later. Suzanna buys a plant: a Madagascar dragon tree she names Lisa. June grows into the collar. Lonan plays sudoku in the newspaper. Harrison learns to bake focaccia, gluten-free, whole wheat. Suzanna learns to palm read, tells Lonan he’s experienced great betrayal (they stop the reading immediately; Lonan goes back to the newspapers). Harrison begins burning incense at sunrise—frankincense. The dragon tree nearly dies (Lonan saves it). It rains every weekday that contains the letter T. Lonan shifts stacks of soggy newspapers onto the breakfast table, answers crosswords with the help of Suzanna (four across, nine letters, Something held). Harrison burns a baguette. Suzanna buys a hanging basket of pothos. The power goes out for two days and the icebox floods the kitchen tile (Lonan mops it with old newspapers, the ink running like jellyfish). June barks for the first time. Harrison eats a bundle of dried bay leaves. Suzanna waters the plants with rainwater, icewater, wrung into a coffee tin. Harrison leaves the stove on while sautéing shallots (he eats them whole). Lonan wakes up feverish and fills out four newspaper crosswords, then falls asleep on the coffee table. Suzanna moulds panna cotta in coffee mugs and shares the batch with Lonan when they won’t tip out. Lonan teaches her how to propagate the pothos and soon they have twenty empty cans of cuttings poking from the windowsills. They rearrange the furniture, the couch facing the kitchen instead of the TV, the dining table right outside the bathroom, then put it all back the next day. They birdwatch from the tiny window with binoculars and a magnifying glass. They sort coupons. Whittle soaps. Watch Norwegian films without the subtitles. Discuss cliff diving. Make matching anklets (blue beads, elastic string, the plastic clacking how Harrison knows they’re coming). All of this they do as Harrison lies on his bed for two weeks, counting the corners of his ceiling and trying to determine a way to multiply them telepathically.

This is the very next paragraph!

At first he assumes they’re laughing. The sun nearly rising between other high rises, blotting his room with dawn. This is not a surprise. They are probably making pancakes out of buckwheat and discussing the hilarity of whole grains. They are probably laughing at store-bought cherry preserves. Too sour. Their cheeks puckered. But then the laughs get louder, and the sun rises higher and it’s not laughing at all, but gasping.

Here’s Harrison crawling!! is this straight out of the exorcist probably!

Harrison’s instinct is to crawl. As if his smallness against the ground will stop anyone from hearing him, even before he unlocks his door. On hands and knees he shuffles from his bed to his doorframe, edges the door open with his shoulder. On hands and knees he hikes through the hallway, the gasping getting louder, shuffling until he sees them. Lonan sitting on one of the kitchen stools, a grocery bag wound around his throat. Suzanna clacking scissors in two hands so their blades ping in the sun. Her fingers loped around his hair, knuckle-deep, the blades snipping, the gasps growing, them both sobbing, the hair falling, the sun stalking, their bodies rocking. Harrison takes it in from his crawl. Experiences it all on his knees.

So this excerpt seems really you know, normal:

They clean up the hair. Harrison with the dustpan, Lonan with the broom. Harrison still kneels. Lonan still cries. The only thing that has changed since crawling into the kitchen is that Suzanna is taking a walk around the apartment complex. She needs air. Room. If she cries long enough, a cigarette. So Lonan sweeps. Harrison collects. This repeats.

The kitchen smells of nutmeg. Freshly grated from a whole club over espresso, Harrison imagines. He smells this as he tracks Lonan with the dustpan, hovering its open belly for clippings of hair. And Lonan is so compliant, brushes cuttings of himself onto the plastic surface so Harrison can trash it. As Harrison looks on from his knees, Lonan diffuses in sunlight, the window illuminating only his edges. A body so familiar Harrison knows exactly where it flares with light or absorbs it. A body with skin like mulberry silk. A body he could recreate in charcoal with his eyes closed. His archangel translucent and luminescing.

Skip this excerpt if you don’t want to read about Harrison eating hair!! i’m sorry!

Harrison picks a bundle of fallen hair from the dustpan. It’s airy from being recently shampooed, smells faintly of pear, maybe even ginger. This hair, touched by a woman, or a few women, and cut by one, or a few, in different contexts. Eliza’s hands deveining the roots, and then Suzanna’s, trying to fix them. So Harrison eats it. That bundle like a toothpicked cube of cheese. He puts it in his mouth and swallows.

Lonan watches like he’s unconcerned. He watches this feral animal—Harrison must be something feral, starved of something and ravaged by that hunger. Chewing mouthfuls of hair like that will quell of him of what is missing, if there even is anything missing, something unidentifiable in this bland circuit of New York City, this time-loop of sonhood, this fresh start a dousing of flatness. As Harrison eats, he understands he consumes that something like it’s holy communion, reuniting with that something by absorbing it. And still, that hunger moves him, from finishing the dustpan of hair, and closer to Lonan.

“Do you think I’m a bad friend?” Harrison asks, wringing the corner of his lips clean from loose hairs. From this perspective, Harrison on his knees collecting hair, Lonan’s eyes look bluer. Maybe their saturation has nothing to do with the angle, but Harrison feels this is true; his eyes are so crystalline, they are temptingly edible. Like two plump blueberries. Or a matching set of clear glass marbles. Harrison swallows. He repeats, “Do you think I’m a bad friend?”

Lonan swallows, adjusts his grip on the broom. “We’d have to be friends for me to answer that.”

“Aren’t we?”

And here’s the rest of this scene!

“You’re my mother’s friend,” Harrison says. “She trusts you.” He crawls closer to Lonan. “You’ve got secrets. Rituals. Tell me her favourite finger-food and who she wants to marry.”

“I don’t know your mother that well.”

Harrison wraps a handle around Lonan’s ankle. A muscle there jumps like a dolphin breaching the water. He’s memorized this plane of skin, could rebuild it from single grains of sand while blindfolded. He furls his hands across its surface, unfurls.

“You garden with her,” Harrison says. “You share a plate for dessert.”

“She’s kind to me.”

“You cook her breakfast.” Harrison tugs on Lonan’s ankle, knowing it won’t raze him, knowing he’ll come down anyway. “You know the exact temperature she drinks her coffee down to the last digit.”

“I’m trying to be hospitable.”

“You’re trying to be a son.”

Lonan kneels. Crouching so they’re huddled over each other, so it’s nearly impossible to distinguish one body from the other, which one sinks, which one rises.

“My mother’s only got one son to live with,” Harrison says, his voice thin from a clogged throat. He reaches for Lonan’s scalp, scrapes a line down the centre, now an even plane of cropped hair. “And it isn’t me.”

“You’re unstable,” Lonan says, burrowing his face either into a cabinet or Harrison’s shoulder—neither can tell. “You won’t let yourself have friends.”

Farther, toward the tile they go, a pile of hair scattering. “My mother wants me to forgive you by replacing me with you.”

“She’s grieving,” Lonan says.

Harrison loses his hands. He doesn’t know where they disappear to, if he touches skin or tile. “I haven’t died,” he says. Skin or tile. Skin or tile.

Here’s an excerpt from scene C ft. this memoir bit from the time I was shocked that this university I visited had real FANCY teabags:

Lonan brews tea. Earl grey, from a tin. Harrison doesn’t know why he expects it to come from a bag. An individual paper sachet, or if he’s lucky, one of those fancy ones woven from nylon. But it’s from a tin. Two teaspoons into the bottom of a single mug they pass back and forth, wordless at the kitchen table. Strung in the bathroom, Harrison’s t-shirt hang-dries, nearly figure-like, an unfilled phantom. He tugs a throw around his shoulders and stares at his hands. Each crest of cuticle. Each bulb of knuckle. Each maze of fingerprints.

He is material. This is fact. Not just outlines. He’s got skin that goes pinkish when pinched, a pulse that juts from his wrist, two eyes that burn at the scent of lavender, ten fingers. But as he holds his hands up, studying them in the faint moonlight, it is difficult to believe his tangibility. In the city, he has lived as a haze. Fogging over grocery stores, eateries, nondescript. Fresh start has always implied an air of zest, a zing that should have fueled him to plant roots in this restart. But Harrison is rotten, aphid infected, overwatered, underwatered, then not watered at all. He flexes his fingers. He pops the joints. He tries to press his pinkie to the back of his hand. But none of this brings him back to himself. His hands continue feeling like someone else’s. His body invisibly marred in some way he can’t reverse, disconnected in retaliation.

Harrison reflecting on his relationship with his mother:

Suzanna has never left him alone this long, and to her detriment. He imagines her now, living the life she always should’ve lived, the life she lived before he crosscut his way to her most important thing. She’s probably at a salon, having her hair twirled with a round brush, making dinner reservations at some place always too expensive for two (extra points if it has a French name, more if she has to wait a half hour before getting a table). When she talks to her stylist, she doesn’t mention a son, but plans to travel up the west coast, all the way into Canada if she’s feeling adventurous. She’ll buy crime novels she’ll never read at duty-free, reapply a lipstick that cost her a paycheck in the reflection of a hand-dryer. After the salon, she’ll meet a woman at a wine bar, converse about children, and still not mention a son. Suzanna’s singleness will be a celebration.

The boys finally trucing it out <3

When Harrison finally opens his eyes, Lonan is staring at him. His eyes two reels of the Pacific. They cycle in blue. So much of him has changed, and yet he is still the same. Beyond the haircut, Lonan isn’t that much different. He can’t be much different. But as Harrison searches, splaying his palm on the wet table, he knows this is untrue. Lonan is hollower than he was last summer. A little more haunted. They have this in common, then.

“Can we be friends?” Harrison asks. With his pinkie, he finds himself writing against the damp table just as he did Lonan’s scalp not too long ago. Lonan’s gaze follows each loop of each letter, Harrison’s steady left hand.

Lonan is consumed studying what Harrison has written, where each letter connects in near-cursive scrawl. After a moment, he nods, once, twice, and then reverts to staring at the table’s new inscription. On its surface are two words: something held.

The boys in the car like old times <3

Lonan drives. This is strange because Harrison has not seen Lonan drive a car in over a year. Usually, Harrison takes the wheel, but tonight he guides them through the city, in search of Suzanna. His car is clean. This isn’t unexpected. A cherry-coloured hatchback that rattles whenever he makes a left turn. It smells vaguely of cotton air-freshener and the undercurrent of cigarettes.

“You still smoke?” Harrison pokes at the plastic nob for the radio, and it crackles to life. Synth and electric guitar pulse in 4/4 time.

“I bought it used.”

They’ve agreed to get to know one another while they search for Suzanna. Another restart, some attempt at an honest hour. As Lonan changes lanes, Harrison pokes open the car’s glove compartment. A tin of nicotine gum falls on the mat. A hot pink feather pokes from underneath the driver’s manual. Harrison hauls out both, runs the feather along the gum tin, then the back of his hand, and then Lonan’s cheek. When that rouses nothing, he unlocks the tin and removes a slit of gum. Right as he’s about to pop it in his mouth, Lonan says, “I wouldn’t eat that.”

“Why?” Harrison asks. “Did you lace it?”

“Like I said, I bought the car used.”

Harrison puts the gum back, and then the feather. He sticks his hand farther into the glove compartment, feels around until he drags out a map of the state, bilgy and half torn. He unfolds it, careful to avoid the rips, and flattens it against the dashboard. Almost immediately, it wilts against the cold, faded from time in the sun. It’s been marked up. Half with pencil, half with a red ballpoint pen. After a few minutes, Harrison understands the previous owner’s route. Or at least he does at first. Following the red pen arrows, they started at Long Island, then reached Manhattan. Then a much longer arrow takes him from Manhattan to Geneva, and then Buffalo. And then the red pen circles, once, twice, three times, four times, and what is in the centre doesn’t even have a city name. What it does say is HELP, in all-caps, each letter then melting into an illegible scrawl. Harrison sees bits of words: Luke, woe, hands, clay, guard, stray, each wobbly and disappearing into the other, becoming cities of their own, destroying others. He tries to understand the route, but the farther he pours over the map, recircling each line with his finger, the more lost he gets in the ink.

“Is this your map?” Harrison asks. There is no proof that it is. Even the handwriting is all wrong. Ragged. Confused. Desperate. Not like Lonan’s careful, hesitant print.

“Like I said, I bought the car used.”

“But is it your map?” Harrison asks again. Gently, he creases the paper and then slots it back into the glove compartment. Outside, they pass three convenience stores in a row, a flock of couples emerging from a bowling alley, tipsy and cradling leftover deep dish pizzas and mozzarella sticks. They pass two more convenience stores before Lonan finally answers.

“I was confused,” he says.

“This is more than confused,” Harrison says. “It’s disturbed.”

“I’m not disturbed.”

“But something is wrong with you.”

Lonan slows at a crosswalk. A group of teenaged girls whisk by in glitter and lip gloss.

“Yes,” he says.

This is Harrison trying to stop Lonan’s nosebleed after their bizarre swerve which I think is kind of <3 tendy <3

Harrison reaches for him. One hand on the back of his neck, and the other reared toward the red stream. His touch is tactful, so faint his fingerprints wouldn’t even be left behind, but still, the dabbing with his jacket’s hem is enough to redirect the blood’s flow from Lonan’s upper lip to the cuff of leather. The radio is still on, garbled like an unmassing of crepe paper lanterns.

This is the final excerpt for this update that takes us to the very end of the chapter! Harrison has just found Lonan supposedly head-first in the sink and though he asks at first why he is doing that, takes an alternate approach as the chapter closes:

Harrison gets up, his knees popping like gnawed bubble gum. He decides he will handle Lonan at a distance, if he chooses to handle him at all. Like a timid pet owner trying to tame their suddenly-rabid yorkie. Like a friend not trying to tip the full glass. To let its contents film at its surface, but never spill.

Somewhere in the apartment, Suzanna probably listens to them. If Harrison didn’t know her better, he’d imagine her pressed neatly against the door, waiting to hear the shuffle of their bodies or the tang of an argument. Instead, he imagines her at the kitchen table, gripping a glass of water for so long, half of it evaporates.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Harrison says, stepping back until his spine hits the counter’s lip. He curls his fingers under the granite. Looks toward the window, now a faint periwinkle. Lonan heaves. His fingers caging his face, an animal restrained. They stand there until the sun rises.

So that’s it for this gigantic update! I have like four short stories to update you on so I hope to be back soon!

—Rachel

[skycruise]

Misha virtual panel Sunday 22 Nov, 2020

Tried to type as much as I could as he spoke. I know the whole thing will probably be up fairly soon so you can watch, but for now--

--He finished shooting in March

--Thought he had mourned the passing of the show & had processed it but finale was an emotional experience, took him out for a couple days

--Thinks the fandom isn’t going anywhere

--Favorite memory making recipe with kids and Vicky, talks about how cookbook came about, West made pasta with jam sauce for Thanksgiving

--Projects for future? Worked on political elections recently, planning to do more of that particularly Georgia in January. Publishing book of poetry. Couple of film projects but not as actor, one he’s interested in directing.

--How do you think Jack brought Cas back? There was a different ending that Covid made impossible, but not supposed to talk about it. Involved bringing back lots and lots of cast members from the past. In original ending, Cas hadn’t gone to rebuild Heaven there was a DIFFERENT CONCLUSION FOR HIM. He did not read the last 2 episodes after the changes. He thinks Cas and Jack are more “ethereal” when rebuilding Heaven. Pure speculation though, he doesn’t know. Will probably be better explored in fan fiction than what he could come up with.

--Fan from Brazil thanks him and asks a question I don’t fully understand. Misha talks about watching the finale with his kids. West and Maison asked him to tell them if a scary part comes up, but he had no idea. Evil clowns “shell shocked” and probably traumatized the kids. West wanted to watch something else to get it out of his head. Went to watch Curb Your Enthusiasm lol. Misha jokes he is doing a shitty job keeping his kids away from the horrors of the world.

--Castiel “melded” with Misha. Cas was just a soldier at first but over time we saw him unfurl so that he didn’t fit in anywhere “fish out of water” but tried to be a good person.

--What is the one thing he will take with him from playing Castiel? A lot. On a professional level, it was fascinating to play a character for so many years. Talked about it with J2, how the characters became part of them over the years. Watching Dean’s death scene, he cried but because it was Cas’s friend Dean. It was a weird thing on an emotional level because the lines were blurry between himself and Cas. He feels he will literally take the character with him. Cas is part of him. Maybe he should double down on therapy to try and untangle him lol. Has a “naive” idea the fandom won’t go away, at least right away. Feels grateful to be a part of that, the fandom community does a lot of great things. 

--Favorite thing to bake with the kids? Pies. Though he doesn’t love pie, but he does bake a lot of them and the kids like them. Favorite kind of pie? Probably strawberry rhubarb. Doesn’t bake enough cakes! Recently made fortune cookies and put little messages inside, he put lewd messages in.

--He wants to know if he’s naive thinking the fandom will be around awhile. Fan says NO he is not.

--Misha also teared up in 15x18.

--Anything more he can say about stuff that didn’t happen in finale that was supposed to? He doesn’t want to be the one to reveal, but what are they going to do, fire him? It was a version of Sam and Dean’s Heaven that was populated with all these people from their past, all of the characters that we love from over the years were there. But COVID. 

--Favorite bts memory with the boys? He doesn’t have one, they were close friends for 12 years, lots of antics. Laughing fits, fights, got pissed off at each other, fondest memories of any work he’s done were on SPN, so much laughing and mirth, he’s going to miss that.

--Why did Cas’s trenchcoat remain intact despite all his deaths? Cas never lost the ability to magically mend his clothing. It made no sense that if he got stabbed or shot, sometimes it ripped the shirt but sometimes it wouldn’t. Or it would be cleaned up by the next episode. They wanted him to look like Constantine at the beginning, costume was 3 sizes too big, finally (he doesn’t remember what season) asked for a better fitting costume. New suit first, then lost the tie but eventually put it back. One season they just got him a whole new wardrobe and never explained it. He stole some trenchcoats.

--Cas’s confession was one scene where there wasn’t much joking around, he needed to be in an emotional state. Sat on a folding chair and ruminated on his own. Stunt coordinator noticed that and just stood by, knew Misha needed his space, it was really sweet. Made sure no one bothered him. Didn’t ask him to do that, it was intuitive & Misha was appreciative. Crew was great about that during heavy scenes.

--How did he feel reading script where Cas dies? Knew it was coming, had had conversations with Bobo, was happy with it. Felt a little risky and brave, was happy to be a part of that. Happy his character could express love like that. Has seen people complain about bury your gays trope and doesn’t think that’s what was happening. Cas is in Heaven, rebuilding Heaven, and also so much good came from that declaration. Cas saved Dean which was essential to saving the world. That declaration saved the world and was of Cas’s own volition, he wasn’t forced to do that, it was his choice & that’s important. Maybe he’s naive but he didn’t think they were playing into that trope. He’s glad Castiel got to express that. He’s proud that the show did that. He’s sure it’s a conversation that will continue to be dissected.

--Will he ever get an SPN tattoo? Hasn’t thought about it, has thought about getting one related to his kids. Is that a “has-been” tattoo? Should he get Jensen and Jared’s faces? LOL. Tattoo of Cas’s face on his abdomen? Nah probably no SPN tattoo.

--3 things he does to be kind to himself? Has a tendency to be hard on himself. Sleep, run, meditate. He feels guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his kids so he does but doing that he sometimes doesn’t take care of himself as much which makes him grumpier and not a great dad. Balancing act.

--Fave moment of finale was Dean’s death scene. Masterfully executed, well done, excellent performances from J2. Made him cry. 

--Best memory of last day on set. Everyone was being really sweet, lots of tears from crew and cast. Last scene was last thing on Friday, Him Alex, Jensen, Speight had to fly to convention next morning. Finished around 130 am, got on chartered flight, 15 minutes in flash of light and BOOM, one of the engines exploded, circled back to Vancouver and plane was shaking, really scary, during emergency landing they were texting their loved ones because they weren’t sure if they’d see them again

--Did angels get their wings back? Yeah probably. Why wouldn’t they? He misses Castiel’s car though. The Pimpmobile. Had hydraulics. Remembers car jumping up and down because JARED broke it.

--Cas would be a great security guard because he never sleeps. Would not be a great teacher or architect or artist...could be handy in a kitchen though.

--What color are Cas’s wings? Misha always thought they were black, but maybe they’re rainbow colored!

--Worst joke from J2? Jokes J2 are not good people, they got really excited leading up to him directing because they were plotting, they were going to break into his apartment and steal his furniture but Misha was tipped off by crew. Fish left under his car seat, again he was tipped off. One thing he remembers is Jared messing with his directors chair so that he would fall when he sat on it. Fell for it probably 5 times. Also Jared messing up his lines until Misha went to talk to him, which is when he got pied in the face. Everything looked blurry for like 20 minutes, Jensen brought him another shirt & apologized, then during lunchtime Jensen pied him too. 

--How did Cas feel when Jack became new god? Vindicated. Like, “we did it”. Also feels concerned that Jack is no longer Jack. But at his core Jack was still himself.

--Real story behind handprint? He doesn’t know, but it was a nice touch. Doesn’t remember how they came up with that. Great call back to very beginning. Poignant. 

--Favorite Dad joke? The one with the snail getting thrown across the yard and 2 years later asking what was that about.

--Didn’t hear this one well but what I picked up was Favorite con moments? He and Jensen have had really fun panels in Rome

--Favorite version of Castiel to play? Loved playing LuciferCas and HumanCas. Wishes there had been more HumanCas. But regular Cas was his overall favorite, wouldn’t have wanted to trade regular Cas for any other Cas.

--Miss you guys, love you, hopefully see you soon.

[1dcraftawards]

October Author of the Month...

Drumroll please... our author of the month for October ended in a tie between three wonderfully talented authors!

@bopbopstyles @oh-honey-styles @stylishmuser

Congratulations to all three of these absolutely amazing girls! Check out our interviews with each of them below!

Author of the Month interview with @bopbopstyles !

Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this? The only fanfiction I’ve ever written has been 1D! I wrote Liam back in the day (oof) but now I’m a Harry girl - but I’ve been considering doing Niall at some point!

How old were you when you started writing fanfiction? I think I wrote some bits of fics back when I was probably 13 or so, but I wouldn’t really say I *wrote* fanfic at that time. I only started writing fanfic in January of this year, but started doing it a lot this summer.

What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?100000% Rose Colored Glasses. I write historical fiction outside of my fanfic writing life, so RCG  was the combination of all the things I love: history, Peaky Blinders, boxer!Harry, and as my agent calls them “cinnamon roll boys”.  

Is there a fic that you really wanted to write, but you just never did? I have this idea for a time travel fic but haven’t decided if I want to take that idea and use it for a non-fanfic story or not yet, so I haven’t written it. It would definitely be a similar vein to RCG if I did write it though!

What’s your favorite trope to write? FRATBOY HARRY HOLDS MY HEART! (If you couldn’t tell by my multiple fratboy/college!harry fics lol) Also, friends to lovers. The pining. The character development. Ugh. I LOVE.

What’s your ideal space to write in? I can kind of write anywhere, but lately I’ve been writing the best in the evening on either my couch or at my desk! Just someplace that’s comfy and I can completely focus is the main thing. I’m also a bit coffee shop writer (but not when doing smut!!!!!!!)

What inspires you to write? Everything. Music is probably the biggest one, second would be television and movies. I love taking something creative someone else has done and twisting and reinventing it. But also things I see, people I know, my own experiences, art -- everything. (Bad For Me is literally based on my best friend, for example.)

Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to? ALWAYS. I’m genuinely always listening to music, and it influences my mood and my writing, so it’ll change depending on the project and the scene. I’ve had playlists for some of my work, but a lot of times it’ll be some moody or lovey playlists I have, other times I’ll just listen to an album I’m loving on repeat. Completely depends! For Elevated Surfaces, for example, it was mostly written to frat party music because that’s where the story was set. You can check out my Spotify here if you want to see some of what I listen to!

Do you have any plans for any future fic ideas you’d like to pursue?I’ve been dying to write my Jane Austen series but haven’t gotten the time yet! It’ll take a while, so I’ve been putting it off, but I reaaalllyyyy want to do it at some point. There’s a couple others, but that’s one I really want to do at some point.

Do you have any advice for other writers in the fandom? Read, read, READ. That’s my advice for writers in general. Read widely (across genres, age groups, etc) and read critically! A lot of what I learned about how to write has come from analyzing books I read. I used to review books, actually, and it has definitely helped form how I write. I think for fan fiction specifically, though, I think a lot of people have a tendency to struggle with feeling pressured to write or rushed or judged for what they write. It’s definitely the result of the way we consume fan fiction, but I also think that it’s helpful to think about why you’re writing. For me personally, I write because it just genuinely brings me immense amounts of joy and I like sharing that with people. Writing for yourself takes a lot of the pressure off, I’ve found. It’s when you start writing for others that it can turn into a more difficult place. So: try to write for yourself first, before others!

How long does it normally take you, idea to posting, to post a fic?This completely depends on the fic! Once I get an idea I can write it pretty quickly, so I can churn out content quickly if I have the time. However, my pieces are long (most are in the 15-30k mark) which usually will take me a few days. Usually I’d say somewhere in the ballpark of like 10-20 hours total per one shot, but completely depends. Multi-chapter definitely take longer!Right now, for example, I haven’t written fanfiction in two weeks because I’m working on other projects. It really is dependent on what else I have going on in my life, because I also work full-time now, and so my posting has definitely declined in the past two months.

Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can? 100% impulsive, but mostly I write in the evenings and on weekends (aka when I’m not working). But no specific schedule -- I think if I schedule it then it takes some of the fun out of it.

What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing? How much FUN it is! I genuinely adore writing fanfiction and have made so many amazing friends through it. I wish I’d started earlier, in some ways.

What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots? One shots for SURE. I don’t really plan on doing multi-chaptered again for a while, actually. Partly because it’s just more work, but also because it prolongs the wait for people to read it, and part of why I love fanfiction is the immediate gratification you get from it.

What was your favorite scene to write in “The Only Exception”?OOOOOH. I loved the early scenes when they were still getting to know one another. I’d say probably the scene from Harry’s release party and their emotional conversation after (from Ch.3) were really fun to write because they were so vulnerable. Also their fights. LOVED writing their fights. The Dunkirk premiere from Ch.3 and 4? One of my favorites. So probably the entirety of Ch. 3, I guess!

What is one moment from “Rose Colored Glasses” that you never got to write but wanted to? I struggled SO MUCH with their reunion scene. I re-wrote it like twice and played with a couple of different ways it was going to go, before settling on the final result. I had this one concept, though, where Cicely was going to ride her horse into Birmingham and Harry was going to be called to the stables to pick her up, and Cicely was going to just be so happy and excited to see him and Harry would be so overwhelmed he wouldn’t care about what his friends saw and would just be so tender with her.

What scenes/scenarios are most fun for you to write? I adore writing pining. The pining in Good Together is probably my favorite I’ve done -- the photo shoot scene? *collapses* I also love banter, which was one of the reasons Behind the Bar will always hold a special place in my heart.

Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read? Feedback is literally what I thrive on. I’m in constant need of validation, to be honest, so please tell me when you like what I write! I love it! As far as types of feedback, I think that for my fanfiction, I’m not really posting it to get critiqued. Personally, it doesn’t help my writing in any way, because I’m writing for myself more than for others -- their enjoyment is just an additional plus. So I take critiques in kind of an “okay?” sort of way. It just doesn’t really affect me. I think the other thing about critiques (sorry I’m going off on this question lol) is that you don’t have to take them. I have people in my life whose opinions I trust and those are the people I want to critique my writing. The one caveat here is if my writing is offensive in any way. In that case, I want to be told so that I can fix it, learn from it, and make my future writing better. I will also say that I think part of it is that my fanfiction isn’t really the writing I’m the proudest of. I write outside of fanfiction, have an agent, etc. and so that part of my life is definitely what I care more about. For those projects, I desperately seek critiques, but from people whose opinions I trust!

Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction? Writing professionally is the dream for me! My agent and I put my last project on submission but it wasn’t picked up, so I’m working on something new right now. Hopefully that will end up getting published, but we’ll see!

And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish? I hope that my writing brings people joy and helps them learn something, whether that be about themselves or the world. Books are what helped me learn about the world and have brought me such happiness over the years, so I hope that mine can do the same. 

Author of the Month interview with @oh-honey-styles !

Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this? Just for Harry! He’s that obnoxiously endearing, isn’t he?

How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?Okay okay, I guess I wrote something that resembled fanfiction (non-Harry) when I was fifteen or sixteen. That was all extremely idealistic cringy teenage angst that will live under a rock for eternity. But as far as Harry fanfiction, it was about a year ago when I started ‘Met Your Match’.

What’s been your favorite fic you’ve written to work on so far? My personal favorite is ‘January in Japan’. It was the first time I really dreamt up and developed my OFCs. Between Harry’s healing from heartbreak storyline, as well as Stella’s strong, feisty personality, all mixed together against the backdrop of Japan. The entire vibe was, and still is, so special to me. Plus, Japan!H is something else - peak boyfriend material.

Is there a fic that you really wanted to write, but you just never did?I mean, sure, there are always ideas floating around. But nothing that’s really kept nagging at me.

What’s your favorite trope to write? Fluffy mutual pining between strangers/friends to lovers with a tiny dash of angst.

What’s your ideal space to write in? I don’t really have an ideal space! But I will say, I’ve found that writing tends to really flow during AM hours. I’ve written most of my stories laying in bed, in the dark, between the hours of midnight and 4AM.

What inspires you to write? That bloke Harry Styles is the most endearing menace, so he’s generally my number one inspiration. But I also have a few bad ass women that inspire me more than they’ll ever know. They are my ride-or-die encouragement whose writing and brilliant ideas continuously motivate me to be a better writer.

Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?This is probably an unpopular opinion, but I don’t! I do have artists/songs that inspire my stories (for example, The Sugarhill Gang for ‘Hazy’ and ‘Rise Up’ by Andra Day for ‘Black & Blue’). But for the most part, I love silence while writing.

Do you have any plans for any future fic ideas you’d like to pursue?At the moment I’m only focused on ‘Collide’. However, it really doesn’t take long for the bug to bite!

Do you have any advice for other writers in the fandom?Well, since I started writing, I’ve been extremely lucky to have amazing advice poured into me by some of the most phenomenal writers in the fandom. So I guess one thing I would pass along is that writing fic is meant to be fun! Continue to write as long as you’re truly, truly loving it. If you’re not having fun writing or enjoying the process, step away and circle back during another season in life. When fic becomes a stress or a burden, it’s time to step away.

What is your writing process like?Honestly? (insert cringe face) It’s a hot mess. I don’t typically do outlines and if I do, they’re always changing. I usually write raw dialogue first and then add in the rest. Sometimes I’ll write a scene out from beginning to end, but I’m generally filling in the gaps. I always keep a doc open on my phone for ideas that pop into my head throughout the day (a conversation or a visual). And then once a scene is completed, I send it off to my betas and they’re the ones who let me know if I’m completely off my rocker or not.

Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?100% impulsive. I write and post when inspiration hits and when life allows it.

What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing? That once you start, you can’t stop. The writing bug is fucking relentless.

What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?All of the above! Multi-chapter fics are nice, having the freedom to really develop your characters as well as elaborate on a concept. But they’re definitely exhausting. And one-shots are such a good way to bust out an idea with no strings attached. I really enjoy writing both.

What has been your favorite scene to write so far in “Collide”?‘The Wedding’ has been my favorite scene in ‘Collide’ so far. I absolutely adored writing the initial nervous attraction between Harry and Franki. It’s really the initial point in the story where they start to realize that there may actually be deeper feelings there on both sides. Plus, who doesn’t love a nervous, flirty Harry?

What is one moment from “Met Your Match” that you never got to write but want to?Oh wow. ‘Met Your Match’ rounded out pretty well, but I guess I had one moment in mind that I never wrote. It was basically a scene where Harry and Kate are in LA on their way to a BBQ at Niall’s house. One way or another it comes out that Niall was Kate’s favorite during the 1D era. The scene would have included loads of teasing and maybe a tinge of jealous Harry.

What inspired you to write “Collide”? How did you come up with the story idea?The whole concept of ‘Collide’ came about when quarantine happened and the world went into lockdown. With there being hardly any new content, we were all basically just reblogging old Harry posts. So each part is inspired by and based off of a past Harry photo/event etc. It's been really fun to tie them all together in one story.

Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read? Every writer loves feedback. Honestly, feedback is the most incredible gift a reader could give a writer. Pressing ‘post’ on your own blood, sweat and tears is one of the most nauseatingly nerve wracking things ever, so to be acknowledged for it (through messages and sharing) is priceless. As far as a critique goes, there’s a fine line. Personally, if there’s something I’m writing that’s offensive or off putting, I absolutely want to know (in a positive, uplifting, non-anon-asshole way). But if my story’s just not their cup of tea, I’d rather they move along to the next fic out there.

Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?Only a hobby!

And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish? My purpose in everything I write is to provide a little escape for myself and my readers from this crazy world. Most, if not all, of my stories are meant to be lighthearted and fun - a decent way to step out of yourself for a short moment.

Author of the Month interview with @stylishmuser​ !

Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?The first ever fanfic I wrote was actually for Gossip Girl. It was horribly written, but I had so much fun. After that I wrote Harry Potter fanfiction for about a year, and then I started getting into 1D, and I don’t imagine I’ll ever write for another fandom.

How old were you when you started writing fanfiction? I think I was a sophomore in high school, so… 16, maybe?

What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?Oh this is hard to answer, to be honest. It probably sounds cliche but I’ve had a favorite aspect in every one of my fics. I think Timeless will always have a special place in my heart, but I have a favorite thing each one of them.  

Is there a fic that you really wanted to write, but you just never did?Oh hmmm I think there are a lot of tropes I want to try my hand at, but I don’t like writing a story that’s been done a million times before, so it’s kind of finding an aspect or angle to it to make it different.

What’s your favorite trope to write? Idk if it’s a trope but, angst with a happy ending!

What’s your ideal space to write in? Honestly, I can write almost anywhere. It just needs to be quiet. I like to write in my living room or at the kitchen counter at like 2 am when everyone else is asleep.

What inspires you to write? I really just like to tell stories. I think words kind of have this power to them. I also am inspired by Harry and Niall, their lifestyles/music/careers, and telling stories about/for WOC. When I was growing up, I always thought that people like me didn’t really deserve love stories. So I guess it’s kind of destroying that notion that inspires me too!

Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to? I used to, actually. That first fic I ever wrote was fueled by listening to Mind of Mine on repeat haha. Now I like the quiet, but sometimes if I’m stuck I’ll listen to the playlist for whatever story I’m writing.

Do you have any plans for any future fic ideas you’d like to pursue? This made me laugh because I have four in my mind at any given time. You’ll have to wait and see what they are!

What is your writing process like? It goes something like this: vague idea > random scene ideas that bug me into writing it > visuals > outline > actually writing it.

Do you prefer Au or OU? I prefer OU because I like writing about the music aspect of the boys’ lives. AU is fun too, but it’s a lot more work in my opinion. It needs to be a specific idea or trope or I’ll just go with OU.

Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can? I try to keep myself to some sort of schedule, like 1000 words a night or 1 chapter per weekend or I get off track.

What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing? Oh hmm… I think I would go back and tell myself that it’s okay to want to write WOC characters and it doesn’t matter who likes it, or who doesn’t, or how many notes you get. I think it’s really easy for writers — no matter what they write — to feel like they aren’t living up to whatever popularity standards are going on in their fandom, but at the end of the day it’s about what YOU love to write about. That’s what makes a good story, in my opinion, and as a reader you can tell when an author is really putting their heart into something, and that’s kind of inspiring.

What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots? Multi chapter. I freak out about one shots now because they end up being 15 or 20k words anyway when I write them haha!

What has been your favorite scene to write so far in “Rumor Has It”? I think my favorite scene from that story was either their first kiss, the morning after they get intimate for the first time, or the scene where Ishika comes clean to Harry about how she feels/why she lied. I remember those three scenes came so clearly to me, I was just stabbing away at my keyboard like a cartoon.

You have such complex characters that readers adore, do you have any advice on planning well written and planned characters?  AH that is a very nice thing for you to say! Thank you! I like to think of characters in terms of fatal flaws. It sounds weird but like: What makes your character cry? What keeps them up at night? What makes them happy, or mad? What makes them, them? That’s kind of how I approach it. It’s kind of finding a balance of those characteristics and ‘why are you so frustrating I want to THUMP you’ and ‘I adore them, let’s protect them at all costs.’

What inspired you to write “Kiss and Cry”? How did you come up with the story idea? So I watched this show called “Spinning Out” on Netflix and kind of geeked out about figure skating. I knew nothing about it, which is kind of what got me thinking, this would be cool to learn about and writing for me is the best way to learn. At first I was like, nobody cares about a figure skating fic, and then I was like: good, write it. So here we are!

Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read? I think feedback is a really personal thing, but there’s a really fine line (haha) approaching it. I really think constructive criticism is an important part of feedback — but it’s often done very poorly. There is a big difference between pointing out to an author what they could’ve done better, or even asking why they wrote something the way they did (because I promise you, they did it the way they did for a reason), and simply telling them they are either a bad writer, have poorly written something, or something worse because god knows we’ve all gotten it lmao. For me, I don’t mind either. But if you’re going to criticize my writing, do it one on one, not on anon where you can add a bite to your words. Feedback is kind of a two way conversation, and I think that’s often forgotten about — especially on Tumblr. And it’s very, very obvious when people do want to act unkind, and say unkind things behind the anon veil on purpose. It’s ok not to like the way someone wrote something, but it’s not ok to be vicious about it, ESPECIALLY on anon. That just makes you a coward. I guess my rule of thumb is: Is what you’re typing out going to hurt the person on the other end? Is it worth it to do that? Or can you reword it in a way that starts a conversation instead of bullying someone for putting their work out there, something that’s vulnerable no matter how many times you do it.  But, this is just how I feel. Every writer is different (and valid!)

Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction? I’d love to write professionally one day! We’ll see what happens. I think whether it happens or not, I just love it so much, I’ll do it for a long time because it’s a big part of who I am.

And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish? My purpose of writing… that’s so philosophical. I guess, I honestly just like to tell stories that are important to me, and remind people that life sucks but it’s also pretty damn good at times too. I hope to keep making myself happy writing whatever it is I’m writing, and challenge myself to try my hand at stuff that’s daunting, and hopefully people like what I’m doing and if not, that’s ok, because I do! And to remember that’s my real purpose for writing, it’s never been a numbers game or keeping score, it’s been about telling stories that I love crafting.

[wolfpackimagines14]

Lizzie Swan - Chapter 2

Word Count - 2k

A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long to finish! I had an extreme case of writer’s block about halfway through and I finally finished it. I’m sorry for the abrupt ending of the chapter, I didn’t really know how to end it lol. Leave some comments or message me about any ideas you might have for the story! xoxo

The day that Bella went missing in the woods was the beginning of a long three months of depression for her, and therefore, dad and I as well. The Cullens had left and Edward had broken up with her on that walk just before she got lost.

She wouldn’t listen to music, she wouldn’t go out with her friends anymore, and she barely left her room for those first three months. She was definitely depressed, but our dad didn’t want to force her to see a doctor if she didn’t want to, no matter how many times that I brought it up.

The worst part was when she would start screaming in the middle of the night. She would always, without fail, wake up screaming and dad and I would take turns helping her. It was exhausting and I was barely getting any sleep. Even the nights when dad would help her I couldn’t get back to sleep right away.

Dad actually had a serious talk with her last night. He told her that if she didn’t start trying to get back to normal, he was going to send her to live with her mother in Florida. That had seemed to snap something in her because she went out with Jessica to the movies tonight. Dad had wanted me to tag along to keep an eye on her, but I had to work until 10 so that hadn’t been possible.

I got home before she did and if I hadn’t left my bedroom because I needed to use the bathroom at the very moment she got home I probably wouldn’t have seen or heard her come in. I had tried to make conversation about some customer at the restaurant, but she seemed even weirder than usual. But that was the first night in three months that she didn’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

It was the first good night’s sleep that I’d had in awhile and I woke up that Saturday morning feeling refreshed. That relieved feeling didn’t last however when Bella dragged me to Jacob Black’s house, but not without making a stop to buy two used and run down motorcycles. She wouldn’t even let me ask any questions.

The next month was spent going back and forth between Forks and La Push. We would go to school, then go to Jacob’s garage, and then Bella would drop me off at work. It was a pretty consistent schedule and I was grateful to Jacob for helping Bella get close to normal again.

There were still some times that she seemed sad again about Edward and the Cullens leaving, but for the most part she was alright. Except for her new craving for adrenaline she had developed. She had gone to the ER a few times just this month and dad was starting to get worried, but Bella’s new goal was to find some meadow in the woods that Edward had brought her to. Which seemed a lot safer than riding motorcycles.

Jacob didn’t really want to help as he wanted Bella to let go of Edward all together, but I thought it would be a good idea to find the meadow. I thought it might help her finally accept that he had left.

So while January had been a mostly blissful time in the Swan household, February brought some trouble. Bella had gone to the movies with Mike Newton and Jacob. It was an awkward combination of people, but I couldn’t tag along because I had to work that night. She had come home earlier than expected and said that Jacob wasn’t feeling well so they had called it a night.

That was the beginning of the craziness that changed my life forever. Jacob stopped answering Bella’s calls and Billy’s excuse of mono weren’t working anymore. She was angry at first, but then she just got sad again.

Jacob was starting to piss me off now. Bella had finally gotten back to normal and I had forgotten what it was like to not sleep all night due to her screaming, but with Jacob not speaking with her she was basically back to square one. It was like all that progress that she had made these past few months hadn’t ever happened.

So while Bella continued to try to call Jacob and had more and more sleepless nights, I continued going to school and work while also getting more and more sleepless nights. Finally, February came to an end. The shortest month of the year had definitely seemed like the longest in my mind.

The first Saturday of March was the day that Bella and I went out to find the meadow. I wasn’t about to let her go alone, so we went earlier in the day because I had work that afternoon. It was a long ass hike to that meadow.

“Bella,” I groaned for probably the tenth time that day. “Do you have any idea how much longer?”

“I have no idea,” she huffed out, definitely as out of breath as I was right now. “I don’t know exactly where it is… it’s been awhile.”

“It’s literally been two hours,” I responded, taking a quick pitstop to drink some water. “You hate hiking. How the hell did you do this last time?”

She didn’t respond and instead started walking again. I hung back for a second, chugging my water again before sighing and climbing the hill, where Bella had just disappeared from my line of sight.

“Bella?” I called out to her, but there wasn’t any response. I finished climbing the hill and finally the tree line broke and I saw what was once probably the beautiful meadow that Bella had spoken so highly of.

Bella seemed to be in shock as she kept looking around at the brown, empty field.

“Well,” I sighed. “It is the beginning of March. Not exactly the time for flowers to be in bloom.”

“I just didn’t think it would look like this,” she said, kneeling down to touch the dead grass.

“We can always come back in a month or two and it’ll be just like the last time you were here,” I offered to her, but she shook her head.

“It won’t ever be the same as the last time I was here,” she said softly, slowly standing up. She seemed like she was going to say something else, but she stopped short. She was staring at something behind me.

I slowly turned around and saw a man. He had long dreadlocks and seemed to be wearing a suit, with the jacket hanging open to reveal his bare chest. And he was not giving off a friendly vibe.

“Laurent?” Bella questioned the mysterious man. I whipped my head back around to look at her questioningly. Did she know this guy?

“Bella,” Laurent greeted my sister. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

All of a sudden, he was standing much closer to Bella and I. It was like I blinked and he had suddenly made his way across the field. There was no way someone could move that fast. Who the fuck was this guy?

“I went to visit the Cullens,” Laurent continued as he started circling us like we were his prey. “But the house is empty. I’m surprised they left you behind. Aren’t you sort of a… pet of theirs?”

I reached out to grab Bella’s hand, both to comfort her and myself about the situation.

“Um,” Bella responded. “Something like that.”

“Do the Cullens visit often?” Laurent asked.

“... all the time,” Bella told him after a moment of silence. My breath hitched a little in my throat at her blatant lie. This wasn’t going to end well. “I’ll tell them you stopped by. I probably shouldn’t tell Edward… because he’s pretty protective. He might misinterpret this little get together.”

“Well he’d be right, if he were here,” he continued. “But he’s not, is he? He’s far away.”

“Why are you here?” Bella asked Laurent. She kept herself slightly in front of me as Laurent came to a stop.

“I came as a favor to Victoria,” he replied and Bella gripped my hand tighter. “She asked me to see if you were still under the protection of the Cullens, because Victoria is quite put out with you.”

I could barely think straight, my mind was going 100 miles an hour.

“Me?” Bella asked, alarmed now.

“Victoria thinks it’s only fair to kill Edward’s mate, given he killed hers,” Laurent said matter-of-factly. What the actual fuck was going on? Edward killed someone?

“Edward would know who did it!” Bella tried to warn him. “And he’d come after you.”

“I don’t think he will,” Laurent said, shaking his head. He was so close to us now that I could see his red eyes. “After all, how much could you have meant to him if he left you here unprotected. Victoria won’t be happy about me killing you, but I can’t help myself. You are so mouthwatering.”

“Is this your sister?” Laurent addressed me for the first time. “She smells almost as delectable as you. Perhaps I’ll kill her first and make you watch. That would please Victoria.”

“Please don’t!” Bella begged him. “You helped us…”

“Shh shh shh,” Laurent was suddenly right in front of us, shushing Bella with his hands. “Don’t be afraid. I’m doing you a kindness. Victoria plans on killing you slowly, painfully… I’ll make it quick.”

Laurent pushed Bella out of the way and I whimpered involuntarily when he grasped my face with one hand and then leant in to smell my neck. I tried to get away, but he was freakishly strong. I’d been asking who this man was, but I think the real question was what this guy was.

“I promise you will feel nothing…” he trailed off as he stepped back and his red eyes widened and fangs appeared in his mouth as he raised his hand to strike down on us.

Holy fuck, was he a vampire? That would’ve been my last thought before he killed me, if Laurent hadn’t froze at that moment.

“I don’t believe it,” he said to himself after he had turned to the side of us to look at the tree line. Bella and I looked where he was looking and waited in silence, listening to the rustling of the trees and the low growls of some large animal.

A large black animal that I can only describe as a wolf stepped through the trees, stalking towards the vampire that was threatening us. Even Bella looked shocked, so I knew this was a new discovery for her too.

As the first wolf aggressively growled, more wolves appeared from the tree line behind it. Laurent suddenly whipped around at an incalculable speed and was gone. The shock seemed to be getting to me because my knees buckled and I fell to the ground, my eyes locked on the ginormous wolves, specifically the dark silver one.

This wolf also couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of me. Our eyes were locked together, even as the other wolves left the clearing and ran after Laurent. The wolf seemed almost conflicted, if that were even possible.

But as Laurent started attacking the other wolves at the far end of the clearing, the silver wolf shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts, and ran after the others.

It was at that moment that I realized that Bella had been trying to get my attention.

“Lizzie!” she was screaming at me. “Elizabeth we have to go! We have to go now!”

“He was a vampire… wasn’t he?” I was rambling now. “Holy shit… was Edward a vampire, Bella!?”

“Now is not the time, Lizzie,” she was now shaking me by my shoulders. “We have to go. NOW!”

She was able to pull me to my feet and my fight or flight finally kicked in and my body chose flight. Bella and I held hands as we ran through the woods, running for our lives.

I may have been in shape considering the amount of running I did for soccer, but this was a whole different experience and by the time we got home, I was heaving, could barely breathe, and there were tears running down my face.

As Bella dealt with dad downstairs, I immediately ran to my room and locked the door.

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