#i met some good friends through fucking facebook groups lol

[ustalav]

making friends in a new city is so Daunting. a year or so ago i was so good about reaching out to people through different local hobby online groups and meeting up and now... that sounds so Intimidating

[nerdgirlriot]

I'm already falling behind on these things, so I'm combining Thursday and Friday, even if Thursday is turning into a fading memory

Thursday was basically a very laid back day. We went to our go-to eatery for the duration of the convention, Panns Restaurant, which is an old-school diner located a few miles away. Since we drive down from San Francisco every year, we have a car and our eating options open up, but we always go back to this place. It's been consistently great, delicious, and the service is top-notch. Their chicken and waffles are my favorite breakfast on the planet and I always get that or some variation of it every time we go.

After enjoying our first of many breakfasts at Panns, we returned to the hotel, and again, met up with some friends who were already here. I think at its core, I only go to these things as a reunion. I mean, we all keep in touch on Facebook (which is bascially the only reason I still keep a FB account) but it's so great to meet up in person and hang out.

Ate dinner at the Social Eatery restaurant in the hotel, where they weirdly broke up our group of 13 (!!!) into tables of four. I wish they'd given us the conference room located in the back so we could all see each other, but alas. I had the ramen. It was...fine. Hotel restaurant food is hit or miss at the Marriott. I really wish there were more noodles. A good bowl of ramen has enough to do a great noodle pull before you shove the entire thing in your mouth, which is one of the great pleasures of ramen. Alas, not enough noodles existed in my bowl to have that experience. I'd not get it again. And I'd certainly not pay $20 for the privelege. I'm kind of tempted to go eat at a proper ramen place (we're in fucking L.A. after all, there's no shortage of great ramen shops) to quell my disappointment.

Friday kicked off with Panns again, but we took some of our friends and I treated them to breakfast because I love them a lot lol

Wandered through the convention areas, checked out the dealers' room and picked up my pre-ordered shirts and tote. The logo for the con is really cute this year, Beatles themed, Sgt. Pepper specific. And I'd noticed that it matched perfectly with my Loungefly Sgt. Pepper wallet. Nice.

More wandering, more hanging out. I realize now that I do Gally the same way I do Disneyland, have a rough plan of what one wants to do but don't be disappointed if those plans fall through.

The only must-see panel for me this year is the Doctor Who Deathmatch, where Paul Cornell and a bunch of panelists decide bracket style on that was the best Doctor Who thing. It just goes off the rails very very quickly each time and it's fun seeing Paul get so flustered. I know, i'm mean. This year was regenerations, and good lord Riley Silverman did wonderfully defending both the First to Second regenration and the Twelfth to Thirteenth. Capaldi to Whittaker won btw. Doctor Who Deathmatch said Trans Rights.

Dinner was at a small Greek restaurant called Aliki's which is around a 10 minute walk from the hotel. I love this little place. Really great food. I had the falafel plate and it was just as good as i remember.

Roll on for Saturday.

[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!

[joshslater]

Twitching

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

To my surprise people keep joining the stream. Usually it was only my friends and occasionally someone random that watched me play. Space strategy games are not the most audience-friendly. They require you to know a lot about the game mechanics, and they take a long while to play through a full campaign. But all my mates know the game, and are just here to socialize and sometimes provide a tip.

This evening is different though. It had started with some "Lucy333" joining what must have been almost an hour ago. More than 30 minutes for sure. But over the past 10 minutes I've gotten 12 more viewers I think. Suddenly there is a coin sound effect and the chat stream lights up with a donation. $2 from Lucy333 and the text "Hey, spaceboy! Take your shirt off!"

I can instantly feel myself blushing. I'm flattered for a few milliseconds. I'm aware of the streams with girls showing lots of skin to get donations. I've never watched any of them. I'm not even aware of any with boys in them, but I know they exist. "Thanks for the donation, Lucy. This isn't that kind of stream though, clearly." I'm just playing for my mates when we don't feel like meeting up or doing something else. And I know I'm not a looker, though not shockingly ugly like Pete. Honestly, if there wasn't a pandemic going on we would probably do exactly the same thing anyway, playing space strategy and talk Marvel.

There is a flurry of responses from the newcomers in the chat. "Do it! Do it!" says one Donnatrix. "It could be that kind of stream," says fluffy2000. Soon my mates start cheering on as well. It basically turns into a dare. I'm not proud of my body, but I'm not ashamed of it either. It just is. Fuck it. I don't know what I'm going to be teased for more, if I take my shirt off, or if I don't. I reckon if I do what they ask for they have less ground to stand on. I set the game speed to low, say "Ok then", take off my headset, and pull off my T-shirt.

I'm met with a torrent of cheers in the chat. "Now it is that kind of stream," says fluffy. Donnatrix drops $5 and the comment "YAAAASSS". It feels weird. I can't decide if this is a group of sorority girls that randomly and sarcastically sexualize nerds, or if they are genuinely supportive.

"Thank y'all. Now back to trade route 14 to Zephyr-C". My emissary mission hasn't moved far at this speed. I'm about to increase the in-game speed when I get another $2 donation from Lucy. "Spaceboy, keep the game in slow mode and jump over to Heavenly Bodies."

I have no idea what she is talking about, if she even is a she. Her message is instantly met with a wave of support from the other newcomers. At this game speed it would take hours before I need to take any action, and I'm already up a Whopper meal without having done anything, so I reckon I can play whatever they want me to play for a while. Who knew I was that easily bought? "I don't know what that is," I say into my headset.

A few seconds later Lucy sends me a private message with a TinyURL. "This better not mess with my game rig. If it's porn I'll switch back to the game." I say. "It could be that kind of stream too." fluffy offers in the chat. "He could use some porn tbh" my friend Mike responds. I click the link.

The browser loads something that looks like a web game. It's a character creation screen with a faceless, very neutral model on the screen. Looks like those posable figures you use when learning to draw. There are no controls, except a set of buttons that offers you to upload settings, import from Facebook, and similar. I click the Facebook one, click a few approvals, and a progress bar that only lasts a few seconds appears. When it is gone there is a 3D model of me on the screen. "Wow! This looks just like me." Whatever AI they have combing through my online photos managed to get almost everything right. I'm wearing some sort of speedos, but I don't own any, so that part was a miss, but the model looks spot on. "Whatever else they have in the game, I don't think they are going to top this."

A long list of sliders and customizations appear on the screen. It looks like an incredibly detailed character creation screen. I try moving the height controller and is met with a message box saying I'm out of credits, and that I need $10,000 to change my height to whatever I moved it to. Clearly not real money. "I can't change anything". Lucy responded I need to share it. I exit fullscreen on the game and move the browser over to my other screen so everyone on the stream can see. "No, you need to click the share button in the UI and post the link in the chat", Donnatrix writes.

A big gift-wrapped box appears in the corner of the game window. I click it and it presents the text "Hair color and style" with bold letters and below that a text message from Lucy "I think this will be cute on you." I click accept and the 3D model is updated with new hair. It's dark blonde or whatever the oxymoronic name is for it, instead of my usual rat brown hair. It's short on the sides and on top is a big swooping quiff. It looks utterly silly. "Thanks, nice one," I tell the stream. I see a lot of cheers coming in the chat, but I'm a bit perplexed about the "OMYFUCKING GDO!" from Mike. It's just silly hair.

Immediately a new gift box appears on the screen, and soon after a (2) is added on top of it, possibly indicating two gifts waiting. I find it a little bit cute that these girls are essentially playing with paper dolls, but digitally and modeled after someone real. I open the next gift, "Facial Features" from Julia_Awesome. I click accept again, and the doll on the screen is updated. Weirdly it felt like a flash of heat hit me, like those flame effects on concerts. The doll still looks like me, but pretty fictionalized. The face is much sharper, not just less fat, but probably also some bone structure changes as well. It's equally interesting and disheartening, like one of those really good mobile phone filter apps that makes you into a photo model. Makes you understand how unobtainable the Men's Health cover look really is. "Thank you, Julia, but I'm not sure about this look."

I'm ignoring the chat, though I see it is going bananas. I'll have to read that later when the stream is over. I open the next box. Another two has already arrived. This gift is from Donnatrix and is "Core Body", whatever that means. It feels like a gut punch. Perhaps not that, because it doesn't hurt, but it knocks the air out of me. Almost made me fall out of the chair. I'm confused about what is actually happening though because things don't make sense. My body looks deformed. It takes a moment before my brain stops associating what I see with HR Geiger's nightmarish paintings and start to understand what I really see. My body is suddenly a lot leaner and a hell of a lot more stacked than before. Proper abs muscles like a pan of Hawaii rolls.

I look up at the main screen for the first time in what feels like an eternity. The model on the screen looks ripped as well. How stupid can one person be? I turn to the side monitor and look at the window from the webcam. It's me, all new muscles, strong jaw, and a silly quiff on top.

"Hold up! Hold up! Hold up! This is insane! This isn't possible."

"lol, of course not" I see moving by in the chat. I go back to the program. Four more gifts waiting. I look at the model on the screen. I look at the webcam view. "Arms" says the next gift with the text "Promise to flex for me." Well, fuck Zephyr-C and trade route 14.

[hobiwonder]

mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”. 

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’ 

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important. 

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store. 

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it. 

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

 “Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You:  Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating. 

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant. 

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it. 

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his  study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel. 

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment. 

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches. 

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way. 

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs. 

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him. 

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult. 

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more. 

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.” 

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment. 

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again. 

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy. 

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire. 

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal. 

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?” 

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly. 

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own. 

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes. 

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it. 

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off. 

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you. 

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain. 

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides. 

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture. 

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?” 

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard.  Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans.   Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well. 

“N-No?” 

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.” 

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold. 

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome,  glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to.  He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely. 

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.” 

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this. 

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him. 

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too. 

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars. 

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.” 

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him. 

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you  let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don’t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now. 

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours. 

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.” 

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release.  Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it. 

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing. 

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

[willow-salix]

This is going to be out of the blue and there's no need for a response to it, but I guess I feel like some of you deserve to get a peek behind my armour.

Facebook just gave me a memory from 7 years ago, showing me an album that I'd rather not see quite honestly, but you know when you're just drawn in even though you know it's against your better judgement? Yep, that was me just now.

The album is full of screenshots of the absolute shit ton of crap that I've had on the Internet over the years.

I was in the RP world for ten years, and in that time I was verbally and mentally attacked a lot, I was mentally abused, I was stalked, I was blamed for things I never did, I was used as a scapegoat for things I never did. I was the victim of unwarranted attacks that had my accounts deleted by fb so that I lost YEARS of writing.

I got my heart broken over and over again by people that claimed tk be my friends, people that claimed to love me but that were all too happy to dump me the second a better option came along. People that I sat up all night with, that I lost sleep over, that I went out of my way to help and support.

Some of them lied to me so throughly that they lied about who they were, where they lived, their job, their gender, their nationality, what other characters /accounts they had and everything else you could think of for over TWO years.

I've had one that claimed to be my best friend, sit on my couch, my actual couch, in my house and lie to my face. Lie to me and his long term partner and mother of his three kids that he wasnt cheating with a cheap bitch he met online (the third person he'd done it with I found out after) I only found out about her when she messaged me to tell me.

I stopped talking to him, after their friends started a smear campaign against me, and even then EVEN THEN, I talked it out and started talking to him again. But he turned it around and started blaming me and guilt tripping me again. So I cut him off. He stalked me. Like messaging my friend, posting things to me (actual letters through the mail) making new accounts to message me, buying new phone sims to call me. This was 6 years ago. He called me at the start of lockdown and left a message on my voicemail.

This man mentally abused me. He'd force me to talk to him when I had a problem and then he'd not like what I said, so he'd go silent and ignore me for up to three days, to the point that I'd worked myself up so much that I was apologising, that I was taking the blame for having feelings, only when he got that would he talk to me.

He was an alcoholic who worked in care if you can believe that, I supported him through him getting sober again, he still did all that to me.

I gave up on role play and let my character, my home, the one place I felt comfortable and safe, up. And I didn't go back for two years. I got talked around by someone, they made promises, I stupidly fell for it.

I then got used to bring their character back and to help them sort out storylines. I was then told they didn't want to work with me anymore because they had too much going on in their personal life, they blocked me and I then got screenshots that that had another writing partner already.

That broke me. That broke me and fandom and people and everything really.

I vowed never to go back.

Then I stumbled upon you lot. And I told myself not to get involved, not to start talking to anyone, not to start trusting again. Now look! Now bloody look!

I'm what... 500k + in a story that was never meant to be, I'm actually writing and collabing with people again and I have a character that I adore and feel just as comfortable with... And that is fucking scary.

It's sooooo scary. Like terrifying scary to me.

Because I'm having to trust again. Selene is like public property now, and I love how much everyone has accepted and adopted her and how they use her and write her too, that warms this cold, dead, suspicious heart of mine.

Because I can honestly say that Selene and John saved me and my sanity.

I am quite a sociable person, I love to chat to people and if I'm your friend I will go out of my way to do my best for you, to be there for you and to support you in every way I can. But I know I can be used and I dotn always see the bad in people. So I cut myself off and refused to allow myself to make friends again.

I was writing my novels and that was it. No interaction, no fun really. Then this loud mouthed witch blazed into my head, took one look at the spaceman and said "that one, he's mine, wrap him up I'll take him to go" and here she is.

They made writing fun again, they made it spontaneous and exciting, I suddenly had ideas again, people to talk to about the characters I love and it was hard. Because it was also good.

I had to trust the process, trust Selene.

But I'm also so wary. I'm wary that I'm gonna piss people off, that I'm going to annoy people with her and that people hate her. I know people don't like OCs' and I get major anxiety about that.

I've never had this amount of anxiety over stories before, never. Not my rp, not my novels, not the ones I did for class or competitions, nothing. This is singularly the most stressful writing I've ever done. Because these boys, they mean the world to me, they always have. They have always been my happy place since I was 5/6, they have always been my heart and home.

The problems I had in rp made me not like the books that I loved, the fandom I was in, because of peoples interpretations of the characters, the way they played them and the fact that they were so nasty to me. And I really really don't want that to happen here.

A few weeks ago I noticed that an account had bene set up that was clearly a piss take of me, of this account. And all the old fears and anxiety came rushing back. I instantly went running to Squiddy and Olliepig and basically tumbled around the group chat in a mess for a few minutes before I calmed down and realised what was going on and had a guess at who it could be.

But it's scary. Because I've been stalked, I've been badmouthed, I've had people make fake accounts of me to cause trouble, and it weighs on me.

Willow Salix is my author name, I had to choose that because my Pagan name (which I was writing under and still do on ff and a03) was too well known and my stalkers were reporting it every time I made a new account.

I had to come to love this name, come to see it as myself (willow is my actual real name btw) and feel comfortable with it. It's taken a long time, I've built my brand from it. I have five novels out under it. And to think of someone having an account with even a parody of that name gave me all sorts of chills.

I'm OK now, but yeah. Fun times.

So I guess... I just want people to talk to me. And I don't mean shine by ego lol, I mean that if I ever do anything to piss you off. If I ever say anything you don't like. If I ever annoy you with Selene or anything at all, PLEASE just come and talk to me.

I might put on a tough mask, and in general I am pretty hardy, but I'm a typical cancerian, hard outer shell, squishy inside.

Selene is my sanity in a home life that is far from easy, I won't go into major details but disabled husband, I'm a full time carer, he's majorly depressed and it's just... Yeah. Anyway, she's my refuge, she's my escape right now.

Actually making a side blog for her took so much guts, to allow her free rein to speak and act is scary as heck for me. Because I've been there and vowed to never go back.

The only good thing I took out of all my years of rp, apart from being able to make up a story pretty much on the spot, spontaneous replies, dialogue skills and character development, is my best friend in all the world @endellionaeternus who has seen it all and stuck by me through it all.

I have no real idea why I just typed all this, I guess I needed people to see where I'm coming from, and why Selene exists.

Yeah...

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #328

okay i’m going the fuck to bed now. @_@

Have you ever worn fake eyelashes? No; the only time I ever will will possibly be my wedding, if even then. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I'm capable, but I don't believe it will happen. Who’s the last person you video-chatted with? My therapy group via Zoom. Do ski lifts make you nervous or do you like them? Never been in one, but they seem cool. Have you ever had dandruff? I have dandruff AND a dry scalp. Nice combo. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Please explain to me how ANY tattoo inherently equates to being "trashy." I actually love sleeve tats. Have you ever gone through a phase of crushing on EVERYONE? No. I experienced a few crushes my freshman year of high school, but they weren't just anybody. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I may or may not get a tattoo of Darkiplier doing his i c o n i c debut smile somewhere, but idk. I already have one tattoo related to Mark and would kill for another with his handwriting, so having three would be a bit... wild, haha. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? Usually. Can you remember what you last clapped for? Yes; everyone in group clapped for one of the women taking a big step against her agoraphobia. Is your hair damaged? No, it's actually super healthy. Are you in charge of cleaning anything in your household? The litterbox and my room in general. Ever carved/written anything on a park bench? No. Most interesting place you’ve ever visited? Chicago was a big shock to me. I am FAR from used to cities that incredible and stocked. Do you keep your eyebrows more thick or thin? I don't groom them, so they're on the thicker end. Do you always wear a bra? Not at home and if there's no company. Do your shoulder blades protrude? No. Have you ever won on one of those grabber machine things? Yeah, a few times. Are you gonna French kiss your hubby at your wedding? Who says I'm marrying a man? But whatever, no. Keep that behind closed doors. How many bananas have you ever eaten in a row? No more than two. I usually don't even have two. Have you ever had sex outside? No. Have you ever been outside naked? No. Have you ever been in a shrubbery maze? No. You ever like someone who liked you back, but didn’t want a relationship?: That's pretty much where I'm at now. Have you ever fallen for someone who didn’t feel the same? No. Are you financially stable? No. Mom can barely afford rent right now; I had to pay it last month with gifted money. Are you emotionally stable? hunny Do you think kids these days are growing up too quickly? I kinda think so, yeah. It's funny how different kids are now compared to when I was whatever age they are. I try to be open-minded about it, though; times change, and I don't expect my generation to be the only "right" way to have grown up. I just think kids are chasing the power of "maturity" with much more vigor. Are you a rebel? Not really. Do you like when people use proper grammar on the Internet? Yeah. I like conversing with people who type just how they talk, like me. Have you ever driven or been a passenger on a motorcycle? Neither. I don't want to ride one. Do you use standard time, or 24 hour time? Standard time. Do you enjoy NASCAR? "HE'S MAKIN ANOTHER LEFT TURRRRRRN!" Lol no, I really don't. Who is the most fascinating person you’ve met? Probably Sara, honestly. What amazing adventures have you been on? What's this "adventure" you speak of? What would you do if had enough money to not need a job? Lots of traveling with my camera, still selling art anyway. What TV series do you keep coming back to and re-watching? None. What would your perfect vacation look like? Y'know, one of those glass dome ceiling cabin... things in the mountains with Sara would be so, SO cool. So much nature for us to explore. What are some obscure things that you are or were really into? Most of my interests honestly, haha. The strangest is probably "vulture culture," in which the remains (typically the bones) of a naturally deceased wild animal are basically recycled for some sort of artistic purpose. You could consider my roadkill photography an example. What are some things everyone should try at least once? I dunno, man. Depends on what you're into. What would your perfect morning be like? Cuddles with an s/o watching some funny videos or something like that to get in some morning laughter. What are you always game for? Video games, haha. What do you do to unwind? Watch YouTube. What’s your favorite piece of furniture you’ve ever owned? I don't have a fave. What would be the best city to live in? I don't want to live in a city. What would you like to know more about, but haven’t had the time to look into it? Time isn't an issue; I just haven't. There's lots of stuff. I'm a very curious person. How have you changed from when you were in high school? I'm less depressed, but more confused, scared, and much less motivated. Imagine a chicken wandering around with its head chopped off. Where is the most fun place around where you live? Nothing, really... Where would your friends or family be most surprised to find you? Like, a strip club or something. What’s expensive but totally worth it? This depends on what's important to you. For me, a quality DSLR camera. When do you feel most out of place? Whenever I'm some place fancy. What’s the most recent thing you’ve done for the first time? No idea. What small seemingly insignificant decision had a massive impact on your life? Accepting Jason's friend request on Facebook because I thought it was a different Jason I actually knew. What did you do last summer? Nothing, just stayed indoors trying not to melt into a sizzling puddle. What are you most grateful for? My mom. What’s the most essential part of a friendship? Trust, maybe. When was the last time you walked for more than an hour? Many, many years ago when I used to walk outside for hours with my iPod. All modesty aside, what are you better at than 90% of people? It doesn’t have to be useful or serious, it can be something ridiculous. 90% is a lot, man. Maybe bonding with animals? What’s the strangest phone conversation you’ve ever had? I don’t know. What do you like but are kind of embarrassed to admit? If I'm embarrassed by it, I have no interest in sharing it. What skill or ability have you always wanted to learn? Even just a smidge of social skills. What’s the best meal you’ve ever had? Probably the spicy shrimp fritas at Olive Garden. I adore those sooooooooo so much. Where was your favorite place to go when you were a kid? The zoo. We didn't go often at all, but I would frequently nag Mom about going. What’s something that most people haven’t done, but you have? Fed a freshly severed rat to a vulture. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I wanna go back to that bird rescue... What says the most about a person? How they treat others. What machine or appliance in your house aggravates you the most? The dryer. It can take a few rounds to fully dry something. What places have you visited that exceeded your expectations? Chicago, that I actually remember. Disney World probably did, but I was just a little kid and only have faint memories of the trip. What’s the worst advice someone has given you? I don't know. Besides your home and your work, where do you spend most of your time? People leave their houses? What are your top 3 favorite things to talk about? Mark, meerkats, and video games. When you were a kid, what seemed like the best thing about being a grown up? No one could tell me no for "stupid" reasons. What’s the strangest way you’ve become friends with someone? Strange way? I haven't got a clue. What’s your favorite band NAME (not necessarily your favorite band)? Maybe Cradle of Filth. Badass metal name. There are a lot of good ones, though. What’s your favorite thing to do outdoors? Take pictures of flowers or animals. How often do you dance? Silly/ironic dancing counts. Essentially never. Who besides your parents taught you the most about life? Jason, I guess. What’s been the most significant plot twist in your own life? The breakup that I thought was physically impossible, entirely unfathomable. Where did you take family vacations to when you were younger? We didn't really go on vacations. If you could instantly receive a Ph.D. in any discipline including all the knowledge and experience that goes along with it, what would your Ph.D. be in? Biology. What are the top three social situations you try to avoid most? Anywhere where I have to speak publicly; parties/get-togethers involving people I don't know; anywhere that is extremely crowded. Just social situations in general, really... What friendship you’ve had has impacted you the most? My friendship with Sara. What’s something you’re interested in that most people wouldn’t expect? Uhhh I don't know, really. What’s the hardest you’ve worked for something? My recovery from the breakup. What took you way too long to figure out? The only person who had any right to control my happiness and will to live was myself. What nicknames have you had throughout your life? If you include online ones as well, there's Britt, Britt-Britt, Twinkie, Bee, Flower, Ruby, Mozart2, Ozz(y), Alessa, and uhhh... I wanna say that's it? What do you do differently than most people? I deconstruct my breakfast biscuits to eat one part at a time... haha. Where’s the last place you’d ever go? Prison. What fact floored you when you heard it? That my dad did some hard drugs before us kids were born. I was entirely speechless. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin? Yeah, it doesn't bother me. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Does weed smell good? Or no? Ugh, no. It smells awful. Do you blow dry your hair or do you let it air out? Air dry. Do you catch lizards? No; I don't like the idea of catching wild animals just to pick up and check out. That poor critter is terrified. I'd rather just take pictures of it and let it go about its day. Would you rather get a big tattoo or small tattoo? I want my next tattoo to be a big'n. How many pills do you take every morning? I absolutely do not want to count. A whole lot. What was the last parade you went to? /shrug What theme would you choose for a baby’s nursery? If I was hypothetically having kids, let's see. A son, absolutely dinosaurs. A daughter, maybe meadowy with baby animals. My baby blanket was full of baby animals, so it'd be kinda cute, that connection. What color would you paint a baby girl’s nursery? Not because of gender norms, but by personal choice, pastel pink. Does your first crush know that he/she was your first crush? No. What is the last thing you missed out on that you wanted to go to? Hm. Who do you wish were your best friend? I am perfectly happy with who already is my best friend. Who do you wish you could go on another date with? She knows. Who was the last friend of yours to have a baby, and what’s the baby’s name? I'm not sure, but my high school friend Megan is due to have her daughter Persephone soon! She won the naming game. Like damn, how badass would it feel for your name to be Persephone. Do you have a favorite M&M? Just the classic ones. Is it easy to make you cry? OHHHHH YES IT IS. Have you ever snuck out? Nah. Who was the last person to comment you? On Facebook? My friend Lyndsey commented on a photo I shared. What song reminds you of being in middle school? "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by A Day To Remember is the anthem for going through puberty in school and trying to figure yourself out. What was the first thing you learned how to cook? Scrambled eggs. What’s something really basic that you’re terrible at? Cooking. Are you pale or tan? I'm very pale. When’s the last time you were kissed? On the lips, like two or so years ago. Do you like the movie Grease? Never seen it, actually. What’s your favorite Jim Carrey movie? The Mask, probably. What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? I think a fawn. Have you been binge-watching any shows lately? If so, what? No. What’s the best physical feeling in the entire universe? I meeeaaan... Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medication for it? Yes and yes. If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive? Well, it's complicated. I don't, but I also want to be a freelance photographer, so I kinda would. I like the idea of having an office in my house purely for productive activities to prevent becoming lazy because I'd be at home. Would you ever be an organ donor? I am one.

[psychicprincesscreation]

NUANCE

Edit 7 (7/12): I didn't realize I kept breaking the link when I was trying to come up with a good title lol my bad.

Last two titles: "I'm not your bass-slut anymore." (That didn't exactly fit the narrative.)

"Don't fuck your idols. :)"

Since everyone is talking about accountability, let me put it succinctly: I was 22, this was consensual for me, I was a "groupie" who knowingly emotionally cheated on my then-bf with Bassnectar for months, I broke it off & moved out because I expected more from the relationship than I ever got.

As one person on IG stated: I was just a groupie whose fantasy didn't go the way I wanted it to. Lol it's true, but that isn't the whole story.

I know it's easy to focus on how I was "old enough to know better" and the harmful choices that I made, but don't forget that Bassnectar actively pursued me even after finding out about my boyfriend -- I'm sure he wouldn't have had any problem finding a single girl to talk to instead, given his stature.

He offered me concert tickets, plane tickets, money to buy an apartment, he told me to email him as often as possible, he told me to keep everything a secret and to lie to my boyfriend over and over.

He tried to "save" me with controlling advice about eating, sleeping, not partying (ironic, considering that he is a DJ) not pursuing music journalism, not hanging out with any male friends whatsoever, where I "should" work. This was all before we ever met in person.

People don't realize how hard it is to say no to your idols, especially when they are CONSTANTLY offering gifts that I considered very extravagant at my age.

This wasn't a normal affair; I had absolutely nothing to offer Bassnectar but myself, yet he spoke to me like I was a star. He told me we could "go deep" and that he wanted to "mate" with me.

Of course my dumbass young-adult drug-addled mind is going to fall in love with the idea of him.

CONSENT IS NOT DEFINITIVE. I didn't consent to a relationship as two normal people sneaking around. I became a cheating asshole who was misled by a rich & famous liar. I never said what I did was right -- in fact, I made it very clear that I did something wrong, too.

I also said that my story is NOT as bad as the other accusers'. I absolutely do NOT think that I had it worse than anyone else. I think my story is important because it shows that his behavior wasn't limited to people underage.

Hopefully my candor denotes honesty and by admitting my faults in this situation, people can see that Bassnectar's emotional manipulation was real and calculated, and most certainly did not start or end with me.

Side note: Apparently Bassnectar DOES cuddle... I guess he just didn't want to cuddle me that night. Ouch! :)

Edit 6 (7/12): Too many typos to fix so I'm just leaving them now lol. Added detail.

Edit 5 (7/12): Just because I say I'm slutty and I like sluts, doesn't mean every girl/women who was involved with Bassnectar is a slut. I'm just owning that label to change MY narrative for MYSELF. I really don't think there's anything wrong with being slutty -- it's always the rest of the world that has a problem.

I wrote this stream-of-consciousness, so I wanted to mention that sometimes my statements that involve other women may seem brusque, but I'm on the women's side. I mean to convey disdain for the way Bassnectar treated us (as a secret "harem",) rather than jealousy or annoyance toward the women. I hope it comes off that way, but I don't know who is reading this and how some might interpret my words.

Edit 4 (7/10):

Removed names. A story mentioned in this post wasn’t true. Either just a lie (to make someone look bad,) or I don’t remember it properly ‘cause it’s been so long. If it was my fault: my bad. 

Edit 3 (7/7): 

FIXED SOME TYPOS! 

Edit 2 (7/7):

I like sluts. Stop making us feel bad for wanting love *and sex, too. 

Another thought: Bassnectar probably pursued a relationship with me because I had a boyfriend. Therefore, I would be more secretive and would have to take some of the responsibility and guilt in this situation, too. And that is true. I do feel guilty about the lying and sneaking. I think that it was inevitable that I would break up with my then-boyfriend, but it really wasn’t Bassnectar’s place to accelerate the break-up by giving me the impression that Bassnectar would be my boyfriend instead. This wasn’t friendly advice given to me by someone older, this was tactical. It makes me wonder if a lot of girls/women don’t want to come forward because they are afraid that the truth will come out about their own affairs? 

Don’t be afraid to tell your story because women-hating assholes try to dissect and expose your secrets in an attempt to discredit you! Bassnectar is the one who needs to be exposed for HIS indiscretions -- this is about what HE did wrong.  Edit 1 (7/7): 

- Bassnectar told me that he was coming to NYC and because we had an online relationship, I thought that he was coming to see me. My friend told me today that Gov Ball 2013 was the same weekend, so I think he may have actually been in NYC for that reason (I don’t think he was scheduled to play on the flyer,) but I was delusional about it.  - I removed the screenshot of his phone number from the post because I don’t want to violate any doxx rules. I am still willing to compare this phone number with other women/accusers to corroborate our stories. :)  - This is my story told from my perspective. I was an adult and I’m not posting this with the intent of legal action, or revenge (although I do admit that this relationship was devastating and heartbreaking for me.) I just want people to know what kind of person he is. - My story is not as harrowing as some of the other accusers’, but that doesn’t make it invalid. - Even now, reliving everything hurts me and I wish I could say that it was real, but now that I’m older I am wise enough to know that it was all lies. - I stand with the women who Bassnectar has hurt in similar, or worse, ways.  

----

My relationship was short-lived, but it was so eventful for me that I remember it clearly. I'm mentioning many minuscule details because I think that could help prove the validity of other victims' stories.

Writing in bullet points because it's easier for me to sort through the memories. I'm calling him Bassnectar because the "Lorin" I was talking to is someone that I feel hurt and appalled by now.

• I don't have social media/email screenshots because I deactivated my Facebook and Twitter years ago. Bassnectar asked me specifically to delete our emails because his "girlfriend had caught him" and asked me to get rid of the evidence because she was "demolished." (I will go into a bit more detail about that later on.)  • I don’t have a “smoking gun” that skeptics are looking for, but that’s what happens when someone asks you to keep everything a secret and delete everything that shows you were communicating.

----

• This happened in 2013 over many months, plus Bassnectar texted me a few times about once a year after our "relationship" ended. • I was 22 at the time. I'm from NYC and frequently went to clubs, shows, events, and festivals with my then-boyfriend (who I lived with) & the same group of friends. • Bassnectar was one of our favorite artists and we'd seen him perform several times in several states. • My friends had a private Facebook group where we'd tell each other about shows and make arrangements to travel/meet up/stay over each other's places. • I was very interested in music journalism at the time and occasionally wrote show reviews for my friend's online music magazine. • I actively used Twitter. I basically tweeted at every DJ we liked, and always posted reply screenshots in our private Facebook group to share with my friends. • Things became complicated with my then-boyfriend, but we still lived together. We had recently gotten back together around the first time Bassnectar DM'd me on Twitter.

• Bassnectar responded to a Twitter pic I posted of our mini-fridge with a Bassnectar logo sticker and said that he "liked my fridge" or something. • I screenshotted this and posted it in my group because he was the biggest artist who had responded to me at that point. • I thought I could use this as an opportunity to interview him for my friend's mag. • After I already posted the screenshot in my group and had responded to his DM, he sent another message asking me not to screenshot him because he "hates that." • I deleted the screenshot from the friend Facebook group. I stopped screenshotting and sharing our conversations with my FB group immediately after he asked. • I continued to chat with Bassnectar via Twitter and said that I was a big fan of his merch and that I bought several things at all the shows I've attended. • I asked to interview him at some point in the conversation, and he skirted over the request.  • Instead, he gave me his email (bassnectar2012) and asked me to send him merchandise ideas. • I slapped together a few simple, quick ideas on Photoshop or something and sent them to him.

(I don’t know how to embed a picture on Tumblr lol -- will update.)  • You can see that the image I sent is no big deal, and all the files were similar, but he responded as if they were the greatest things he had ever seen. He definitely made me feel special and talented. • We emailed regularly and relatively frequently for days. • Emails are exchanged back-and-forth and eventually I asked to interview him again and he agreed. • I gave him my number and he called me. My then-boyfriend was aware that I was in contact with Bassnectar, with my original intention of interviewing him. • My then-bf was in the room when Bassnectar called me for the first time. • Bassnectar didn't want to be interviewed; he wanted to get to know me. I agreed to just chat at first. • He told me not to call him Bassnectar because that was his "band" and that I should call him Lorin. • At some point he asked if I had a boyfriend and I told him no, even though things were complicated with my then-bf and we were technically together.       > I know I'm going to be chastised for doing this, but I've learned years ago that I made a bad choice. Honestly, I still wanted an interview, and I am well-known for leading with my sexuality. This is when I started becoming deceitful with my then-partner. Simply put, I was just more enticed by the idea of advancing my career, and eventually the allure of potentially being Bassnectar's girlfriend, so lying seemed best. Just because I’m flawed, too, doesn’t mean Bassnectar did nothing wrong. 

• My then-bf confronted me about not saying that we were together. I felt guilty and the next time I spoke to Bassnectar, I confessed that I was back together with my then-boyfriend and I wasn't single. (I don't remember if it was via text or voice call.) • Bassnectar was upset that I lied, but continued to talk to me nonetheless through text and email.

• He made me feel like my writing was profound and touching, and that we were falling in love. • He would tell me that he wanted to "bring me the sun," or "get me a puppy." He said things that were romantic and poetic and I felt heartened to respond to what I thought was love. • He said he had $10,000 in his mattress and he wanted to get me an apartment in NYC, so I didn't have to live with my then-bf anymore. • He would text me before and sometimes immediately after he played shows then say he was going to sleep by like 12am (typically.) It was easy to keep up with where he was playing via social media.  • He offered to fly me to his show in Red Rocks so I could attend. (I didn't accept.)

• He called me from time-to-time and told me not to tell my then-bf who I was speaking to. • One day he had me call a different phone number, which he said was his "home phone." • He told me a story about a beautiful girl named (removed)? Who he had a falling out with because she mentioned that Bassnectar told her that he didn't like Steve Aoki. (I don't remember that story in detail -- I think he was telling me so I wouldn't tell other people when he talked about other artists.) > Edit (7/10): This person messaged me to say that’s not what actually what happened between them. • One day I was speaking to Bassnectar on the phone and didn't answer when my then-bf called on his way home from college classes (I always answered right away.) He asked who I was speaking to and I admitted "Lorin."

• When I called Bassnectar back, he became annoyed that I told the truth and said that I should tell my then-bf that I meant my girlfriend Lauren instead. • I began to sneak around more, lie more often about who I was speaking to on the phone, and texted or emailed Bassnectar almost every single day. • He said we should skip Camp Bisco 2013 and just spend time together. (Obviously anyone who attended Camp Bisco knows that didn't actually happen lol.) • He was flirtatious, charming, and always offered me tickets to events, or sometimes to fly me to where he was. I didn't accept any of this then.

• He told me that I shouldn't do any drugs, not even smoke weed. All of my friends were casually experimenting back then, and I was equally as candid as I am now about everything I did. He told me not to do drugs at his shows, or any shows, and especially not around guy friends. • Me and my friends traveled to see a show in Philly and stayed with friends. When I texted saying I was mostly with guys (my friend group was mostly guys at the time,) he asked if I "felt safe" and offered to get me a hotel. I thought it was unusual because I always felt very protected by my male friends. • He told me that I shouldn't hang out with guy friends, or have guy friends at all. • He told me that guy friends all wanted to sleep with me and I didn't realize it. • He told me I should eat healthier and exercise regularly -- it was very weird and controlling. He just didn’t want me to be myself.  • He told me that he had a girlfriend who had two abortions. I think because we were talking about relationships?  • He told me that he grew up in a hippie commune and was Christian and he questioned his priest and that his mom was a poet laureate. It just seemed like he wanted me to get to know him at the time. • He told me I was co-dependent with my boyfriend and that I needed to become independent and move out. • He told me I should make lists of my life goals as an independent person and email it to him. • He told me not to tell anyone about us talking. I told all of my girl friends, but it was a "girl code" situation and none of the guys or my then-bf knew what was going on. • We talked A LOT and often, but all of this only happened in a matter of months.

• Time passes and our emotional affair eventually becomes physically intimate when he says that he is going to fly to NYC. This is JUNE 2013! He played at Electric Zoo 2013, but that wasn't until Labor Day, so I'm not sure why he really needed to go to NYC, but it definitely wasn't for a show because me and my friends would have been there. > NOTE (7/7): My friend read this and mentioned that Gov Ball 2013 was the weekend before, so there is a good chance that Bassnectar was already in NYC for some reason and didn't actually come to see me personally like I was led to believe. lol.

• He alleged that he would see me again around Labor Day when he came back for EZoo, too.

• I am from Staten Island, and wasn't totally familiar with Manhattan's layout at the time, but I think that the hotel he was staying at was in Midtown. It's been 7 years since this happened, but I tried my damnedest today to figure out exactly which hotel it was -- there are soo many in that area alone.  • If Bassnectar says any of this isn't true, then he's lying because there will definitely be a plane ticket or something with his name on it to NYC in JUNE 2013. > NOTE (7/7): I thought he was there to see me specifically, so the dates he told me was staying in NYC are probably not 100% accurate, but there is definitely some proof somewhere on his end that he came to NYC for whatever reason. The lies he told me are just coverup to make me lose credibility if this ever came out. 

• He said he had a hotel for three days. I think it was a Mon-Wed? I took off work those days so I could see him everyday that he said he would be in NYC. If he has no record of checking into a hotel around the time I'm citing, then his manager probably did it for him. I believe his name is Carlos. (I'm going by the memory of what Bassnectar told me.)

• Bassnectar met me in person at the Staten Island Ferry (Manhattan side) and we walked to Battery Park and sat on a bench and talked. • I felt extremely shy and awkward because I knew that by meeting up in-person, I had given up with my now-ex. The whole thing was conflicting and unfair to so many people, but it was too late now. • Bassnectar frequently complimented me in person. He said things like, he was dying to smell my neck, that he loved my wrists because they were delicate like a bird's frame.  • He said that he felt self-conscious that he would be recognized because he's used to being recognized in crowds. • He would pet and caress me, but didn't try to kiss me in public. • He told me that he got his hair washed at a hair salon and he gave the hair dresser a ($50 or $100?) tip and looked in the window to see her reaction and she was crying because she was so happy.  • He convinced me to go back to his hotel. We took a cab there. It didn't take that long, which is why I'm convinced it was Midtown. He never told me which hotel it was, but I didn't realize it was actually because he didn't want a trail back to him. I guess it worked.

(I'm about to get very detailed about my memories, so trigger warning for making people feel uncomfortable.)

• When we got to his hotel, he became physical with me very quickly, but he said he wouldn't kiss me first. That I had to do it first. So I did. • It progressed into kissing, cuddling, him touching me all over in bed with our clothes on. He dirty-talked a lot. I also remember that he moaned and grunted a lot, and I wasn't used to any of that. • At one point, I untied his hair and let it down and he joked that I was making sure he was really Bassnectar and not his assistant that I was meeting. • He told me about his go-go dancer friend who had fake boobs. I can't remember why. • I remember him kissing me against the wall, and he said something like, I want to fuck you against the wall and hold you up with only my dick. It was way too specific to forget. (It didn't happen, though.) • We inevitably had full-on sex after the on/off touching/kissing/talking. • He said he didn't want to wear a condom at first, but he thought he should. We did, but it felt like a test to see what I would say. • I remember that he wanted me to have an orgasm, and I instructed him which position worked best for me. • He orgasmed by having sex with me from behind and asked me to look back at him. I remember him draping his long hair over my back. How could I forget that? -_- • One of my girl friends texted me ("How are you plants doing?" was our code phrase) to check in and make sure I was okay because she knew where I was. It was monumental for me, so I told her it was great. • I sat on his lap while he looked at his laptop. • We had these deep conversations about life, and love, and the future and it seemed so real to me at the time. • I remember that I told him I was unsure if we could be boyfriend/girlfriend because he was so much older than me (I think he was 35 at the time?) • He told me about about a girl he loved named X who was also around my age. I didn't think it was that weird because I was convinced he still really liked me best, but he probably had so many "Xs" and I was just another one. • At some point, he commented on Facebook (or Twitter?) in response to someone saying he was Illuminati. Honestly, it was like we were two people hanging out because of how normal everything felt after the sexual tension was gone. 

• I remember having dinner with him at the restaurant across the street and talking about wanting to be a writer and he said I CAN'T WRITE ABOUT HIM EVER. (So it wasn't normal after all.)

• I remember, back at the hotel, he asked me perverted questions like, can you show me how you make yourself orgasm? He asked me to just demonstrate on his hand so he knew what to do next time. • I don't remember much more because I wasn't planning to stay. • My other girl friend had a job interview that day and we decided to meet at the ferry to take it home together. • On my way out, he walked me to the elevator and he gave me $50 to take a cab to the ferry and to use for a cab when I came back to see him tomorrow. (For my fellow New Yorkers who doubt this story, no, that wasn't enough fare for both trips, so the amount is definitely the truth lol.)

• I went to see Bassnectar again the next day. When I asked him for the hotel address or name, he wouldn't give it to me directly. He said it was because of people stalking him or something. I don't fucking know but it was obvious confusing bullshit and I think he gave me an address that was about a block away. I think he even said he would tell the cab driver the address over the phone. There was a lot of runaround to avoid saying the exact address. (Now the reason why seems obvious.)  • My details are a bit fuzzy at this point because I remember meeting him outside the hotel and going up together, but I forget why we met outside and why we were both confused about which street the other person was standing on. • We went up to the hotel room, he worked on music on his laptop, while I sat on his lap and read Trainspotting on my Kindle. • He let me listen to what he was working on, but I don't remember it. I just remember that he was working with female vocals. • He told me he had to meet his guy friend in Williamsburg because his friend was making him lobster. Looking back, it was probably another girl.

• I asked to stay because I wanted to spend more time with him. I texted my now-ex-bf (who I still lived with) that I was staying with my friend. • Bassnectar said that normally he would say no, but for some reason he agreed and left me in the room with the room key and all his stuff. He either really trusted me, or really trusted how much control he had over me to leave me with his laptop. • I left at one point to get pizza, and came back. I watched TV, but couldn't sleep. He got back some hours later and he was drunk off wine, but I just wanted to cuddle and sleep. • He jokingly thanked me for not stealing his things. • Apparently Bassnectar DOESN'T cuddle and made that a point, but he did sleep in bed with me for a bit, before moving to the other bed in the middle of the night. (There were two beds in this hotel room.) • For anyone else who had sleepovers with Bassnectar, you know that he sleeps with his own fans for the white noise. So we slept in separate beds with his own personal fans on. It was all very bizarre. • We didn't have sex this day at all.

• The next morning I went to Duane Reade while he was still sleeping so I could get toiletries and shower since the sleepover was impromptu. • He had a meeting with someone (manager?) who was supposedly coming to stay in the room later that evening? (It was probably another girl though? idk)

• When he got back, he made me go over the list of accomplishments and goals he asked me to email to him. • He told me that I shouldn't be worried about finding someone to be in love with and it should be a lower priority on my list. • He told me that I should get a job at a restaurant or American Apparel or something and get a shitty starter apartment with only girls. • He said that finding an apartment that was pet-friendly shouldn't be a priority at all. I had a pet cat so if I moved out, that meant I would have to leave my cat behind, but that didn't matter to him. • He told me that if I wanted a serious boyfriend, I shouldn't let him see my legs or have sex with him for a long time. • When he finished life-coaching me, we watched a movie together. • He chose Spring Breakers because he was supposedly asked to do the musical score for it and turned it down (that's what he told me.) • At one point in the movie, Vanessa Hudgens jokingly gestures to her friends that she's giving a blowjob, and Bassnectar said he "didn't understand why girls sucked dick." • We had sex once more, more quickly than the first time and with much less romance. I can't remember much because I just remember feeling sad about leaving soon and like he was blowing me off suddenly. • We took a shower together after.

• I packed up my stuff and before I left he gave me $1000 in cash without warning and told me I could use it to help put a down payment for an apartment or something, but I should pay him back because it would be "good for me."    > Looking back, when he left for a short while that    morning, it was probably to take out cash to give    me when I left. • He didn't walk me to the elevator this time and he sat on his laptop while I left feeling very cheap, stupid, and crushed.

• Time passes and we talk less and less. I'm heartbroken, but still make moves to find a job and move out of my ex's ASAP. • I email Bassnectar a diatribe saying I'm feeling hurt and abandoned. I say that I felt betrayed that he made me think we were essentially going to be together after I left my boyfriend and it turned out to be all lies. • I'm having lunch with friends when he calls me and is angry saying that he told me what I should do to make my life better and that he can't just give me a job or do anything for me and that I need to do things for myself. • My friends walk over to the car where I'm on the phone and when I say I'm ready to go, he asks who I'm speaking to and I say, "my friends." • He yells at me and asks why I'm talking to him on the phone when my friends are around (he asked if he could call and I said it was okay, I didn't know we were supposed to be alone.) I tell him I will call him back. • I text him and ask to call back and his mood flipped and he's suddenly super kind and apologetic and tells me he just wants me to be independent. He reminds me that I'M the one who told HIM that he was too old for me and we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend. • I am heartbroken all over again, but I move on with my life and move out within the next month or so.

> I actually did get a waitressing job as per his suggestion and saved money from that + the grocery store I already worked at and moved to BK by August 2013. I didn't use the money he gave me at first because I thought it was a reason for us to see each other again, and I was afraid to spend it in case I couldn't earn enough to pay him back by the time I saw him. (I never saw him again, though.) > In case you're wondering, I did spend it eventually when I started to resent him for blowing me off.

• I speak to Bassnectar very rarely, and only via text. He doesn't call anymore, even when I ask. • One day while I'm at work, he sends me a video of a beach he's supposedly vacationing at. • When we DO speak, he asks for nudes, usually. • When I send them, he says he feels guilty since “he has a girlfriend” and that we should stop. • Contact is so infrequent, when we catch up about my life, he gets annoyed if I mention I'm seeing any guys, but I never think he really cares because he stopped caring about me a long time ago. (If he ever did at all.)

• I still tried for months to maintain any kind of relationship with him because I truly thought we had something special, but he was always too busy for me. It fucking sucked because he was always in the back of my mind now that I was *~independent~* like he said he wanted me to be so many times.

• One random day when I was too busy to chat with him, I remember he actually DID call me because he said he lost a sound file and wanted me to record myself saying "I really like it." A few times to use on a track. I guess I took too long to get back bc 15 mins later, he texted to say he got it from someone else. I couldn't do it anyway because I was dealing with some other personal stuff. I forgot about it soon after. • I didn't listen to the album NSVB for a long time after it came out bc I was still hurt, but when I did.... I heard that fucking sound bite in whatever song it's on (I really don't care to know) and it fucked me up. • I was conflicted thinking, shit, did I blow my last chance for "us" ? I was still hung up on this asshole as if he were just some ex because of that emotional manipulation. • Would that have solidified what we supposedly had? Or would that have just been another way he used me? I began to resent him.

• Fast forward a few months and I'm drunk with my girl friend at home and text Bassnectar for the lols. I say that I should ask him for tickets to BASSLIGHTS 2013 in VA to make up for him being such an asshole. • Surprisingly he agrees on the condition that I only go with girl friends, don't do any drugs, and say that the Tix are left for me because I interviewed him. (Don't forget that no interview ever happened!)

• Before Basslights, he texts me and even asks me what songs he should play and I don't realize he's just stringing me along. Presumably it was just another plot to hook up. • Before we leave for VA, my friend who is driving admits that one of her OTHER friends secretly knows Bassnectar so we might be able to get into some party or backstage. Sooooo I guess she was another one of his "harem" that he was having a secret relationship with. (I don't mean anything negative towards that girl/woman, just that Bassnectar probably saw us this way and was playing *at least* the two of us at this time.) • My friends and I drive from NYC to VA and miss Bassnectar's set the first night because we arrived late, but the Tix were waiting for me at the box office. • If you get Bassnectar's guest list for Basslights 2013, my real name is on there. I'm sure a lot of other girls he manipulated are on there, too. • Bassnectar texts me and asks what I think of the show and I say I missed it. • He says he was thinking of me a lot during the show. • He texts me saying I should let him "vroom vroom in my girl power." Obviously he's alluding to sex, and I show the text to the friend who was at my place when I asked him for the Tix. He won't send a cab to get me at my hotel when I say sure, though, because he "has a girlfriend" again and he would feel bad. Maybe he was annoyed that I missed his set, maybe he picked someone else, maybe he actually was with his gf? Whatever. • I told him I didn't feel comfortable texting like that anymore because he said he had a gf. • He tells me I'm a good person.

• I am so hurt that I don't answer his texts at all anymore. • We go to Basslights night 2 and I get suuuuper fucked up with my friends (because fuck him) and have an awesome time and disassociate Bassnectar from his controlling bullshit. • I ignore him all the way back to NYC and just text to say I'm home. • He sends me an URGENT text saying that his gf suddenly found out about his gross infidelity and begs me to please delete all of our emails and texts. • I'm stupid and kind and fucking over him so I do it. He knew I would because he knew I was too nice of a person not to. • Bye bye evidence, though. :(  I regret deleting those emails even now because I knew this misconduct shit would come out eventually with him.

• LOTS OF TIME PASSES. Now and again, Bassnectar would text me just to say what's up and I'd barely respond. This only happened approximately once a year. • I'm pretty sure this was just to make sure he was on my good side and there wasn't a chance that I was going to expose him. • I think the last time he texted me first was all the way back in 2016.

• The last few times we spoke were when he had a cancer scare and I texted to say sorry. • When I went to Moonrise Festival, I asked if we could meet and he blew me off. It's been so long, I didn't really expect him to say yes, but it was worth a try. • When me and my friends went to Electric Zoo and he closed, I texted him saying that we couldn't hear well from where we stood and left early. I think he was offended because he replied saying that no one else complained. • The last time I spoke to him, I knew he was playing at an event near me and asked for tickets again so I could see him and he said he would be with his girlfriend. It was a one-off thing and I thought it was worth the try. •There were no cordial conversations in-between the times I contacted him at all. Just me being lonely and single and still hanging on to this idyllic version of him that never fucking existed in the first place. 

• I'm much older now and I know that a lot of this happened because of choices I made, but I was 22, starstruck, in a confusing relationship, partying, and desperate for an ethereal love that I sought in that music scene.

• I bet Bassnectar specifically targeted girls like me because (at least in my case) I was depressed, pumped full of mind-altering chemicals, pretty, and lonely. He acted like I was a unique, artistic, lost soul and he made me believe that he was the only one who could save me.

• At 22, you don't realize that a man 13+ years older than you shouldn't be asking you to keep your conversations a secret from everyone, asking you for nudes, asking you to lie to/break up with your boyfriend, inviting you to hotels, offering you gifts, and straight up giving you cash that you didn't ask for.

• But that man DEFINITELY knows he's doing something wrong, otherwise he wouldn't be sharing that hush money with you, or asking you to hide and delete everything.

• Because he would text me once in a while saying something like, "You cross my mind all the time," it would be enough for me to hang on to this hope that *maybe* there was still a chance. I couldn't see that it was just another manipulation tactic that worked well on me because I was still feeling the effect of the emotional annihilation from so long ago. :(

• I loathe how he made me feel for so long and it breaks my heart to know that there are so many other girls who were taken advantage of in worse ways by this egotistical LIAR in his position of power. Seriously, Bassnectar, fuck you.

ALSO: not sure if this was his burner phone or what, but here are the last two digits of the # he always contacted me with (sent in the DM). If any other victims want to corroborate by comparing numbers... Let me know.

(I REMOVED THE SCREENSHOT OF THE PHONE NUMBER IN CASE IT VIOLATES ANY DOX RULES, BUT I CAN SEND IT TO YOU DIRECTLY IF YOU ARE CONTACT WITH ME!) :)

---

[purplesurveys]

1018

When was the last time you were in pain? Did you take a painkiller? Last Saturday when I stubbed my toe and it made my nailbed bleed. Nah, I just dabbed tissue on it and covered it up a Band-Aid. It didn’t really need one, but I placed one anyway so that I didn’t have to see the cut.

What was the last question that someone else asked you? I was showing my mom some photos of the typhoon’s aftermath in our city and she was asking me where exactly one of the photos was taken. It’s honestly so bad over here rn and I feel kinda guilty for taking surveys when so much of the city still has chest-deep flood...but this is the one thing keeping me from going insane while we still don’t have electricity and internet at home, so.

Do you recall what you were doing last time 7pm came around? Wrapping up work, watching the newest episode of Good Mythical Morning, and was also probably looking for a survey to answer.

What was the last thing you consumed, that tasted sweet? Churros with chocolate dip.

Do you know who Mr Blobby is, or have you ever heard of him? I have never heard of it. Them? Him?

Have you ever befriended someone named Tom? What is/was he like? I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of a Tom where I live. I know Tims though, lol.

Does your father have any hobbies? What are they? He loves cars and motorcycles, and I also always catch him watching compilations of dumb vehicular accidents. He’s also into the latest gadgets and I know he’s been wanting a drone for ages now.

Name a food you enjoy, that starts with the same letter as your surname. Curry. :)

What did the last face mask you wore look like? I always wear those thin plain blue disposable ones because they are light and breathable. < Yeah, same. My mom buys boxes of these all the time so this kind is my only choice, really. I never minded it though.

Do you enjoy any songs by The Pet Shop Boys? The name is familiar and I probably know one or two songs of theirs that I enjoy, but I just can’t place any at the moment.

Is there a specific song that you always request at parties? What is it? Eh, not really. I let other people take over the music. Sometimes my friends will request Paramore for me hehehehe and it’s always nice when everyone ends up enjoying whatever song by them is played. But I’m personally often too shy myself to do the requesting because I’m scared it’ll turn out to be a flop. 

Have you ever read 'The Railway Children?' Did you like it? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.

What was the last thing someone said or did, that made you chuckle? So we have a card game at home wherein each card has a certain category and the game is simply a race to come up with an example under that category. So for example if the game master pulls out a card that says ‘fruit,’ you wanna be the first person to yell apple or orange or something. Anyway, my family pulled it out again because of the current power outage, and while we were playing earlier my mom excitedly yelled “CEREAL” when the category was “breakfast cereal.” All of us died laughing.

Have you ever met anyone named Joyce? What is/was she like? I know multiple people whose second name is Joyce, but I dunno anyone who has that as their main name or preferred nickname.

Who was the last relative you visited? My grandma. Needed to pick up the box of revel bars that my uncle had made for my mom.

Does anyone close to you have blue eyes? Nah, especially not in this part of the world. Who was the last person you messaged on social media? Andrew. He was simply checking up on me because our city is one of the hardest-hit areas of the typhoon so far.

^ Do you know when their birthday is? June or July 20something...I can’t remember at the moment.

Is there anyone you love, whose name starts with H? Hmm Hannah is a good friend of mine, and I guess I can say I love her, sure.

Do you own a hairdryer? What color is it? Yeah, pink. I’ve since given it to my sister since she needed a hairdryer in her dorm, but it was originally a gift for me.

What CDs do you have in your car, if any? I don’t keep CDs in my car anymore. If I wanted to listen to my music, I just link my Spotify to the stereo via Bluetooth.

One hour from now, what time will it be? 4:35 PM.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

When you woke up today, did you find unread messages from anyone? Yeah, because I still talk to my ex like a dumbass. Did the last message you received contain any emojis? No, Angela didn’t use any. Have you recently told anyone that you miss them? Yeah, I said it to Hans today because he messaged me for the first time since my birthday this year. Are you wearing a scrunchie in your hair today? What color? Not right now. I used my hairtie to tie up the bag of chips I wasn’t able to finish earlier, so unless I finish that up soon I won’t be able to tie my hair up in a ponytail for a while haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Yuh, the people I interned with - Angel, Justine, and Bianca - added me on there recently. My cousin Maggie also made an account and added me. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? My mom offered me the last churro earlier because she knows I love them, but I didn’t feel like eating anymore so I let her have it. What was the last film that you saw for the first time? I’m Thinking of Ending Things. ^ Did you enjoy it? I had a hard time with it, especially with the last 20 or so minutes; and it was the first time I found myself struggling with a Charlie Kaufman work. I wouldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though. I guess I just found it a little too complex, and films that make me THINK think are generally a hit-or-miss for me. Which swear word did you utter most recently? Probably fuck or a local swear word. ^ Was it because you were annoyed in some way? A little bit, yeah. My phone’s adapter was missing for a few moments. Do you ever find the smell of your pets’ food unpleasant? No. We feed them the same things we eat, so it would be kind of odd to call that unpleasant. When was the last time you reheated leftovers? Tuesday. It was a burger I failed to finish over the weekend. What was the last thing you ate, that was from a bakery? Can’t even remember the last time we ordered from a bakeshop...a pandesal is my best guess, but I can barely remember the last time I had one of those. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Haaaaaaaaaaaa. Is there a lake close to where you live? Nope. There’s a river, though. What was the last song you recall singing along to? Broken-Hearted Girl by Beyoncé. Have you uploaded any photos to social media today? Of what? No. Literally everyone has been posting photos of their flooded houses and neighborhoods all day, and it’d be insensitive to post pics of my otherwise (fortunately) normal and relatively unaffected neighborhood or some other type of photo. Are you in the process of reading a book? Which one? Nope.  ^ Are you enjoying it? - How recently did you charge the battery on your mobile phone? This morning, but I had to charge from my car because no electricity. I have to do it again, actually – my phone’s barely hanging on at 9%. Is there anyone you interact with every day, on social media? Yeah, my co-workers. In my new job, I’ll have to communicate with Ysa, Bea, and Steffi the most as I was placed in their team. What do you typically do to unwind at the end of the day? Watching the new episode of Good Mythical Morning and GMMore. Sometimes I’ll watch some wrestling too.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

Has anything fallen out of your pocket at any time recently? My vape pen. Luckily I was in my room because I would’ve been a dead daughter if it fell out in front of my parents. Do you have any books that you plan to read sometime soon? Yeah. I plan to resume Midnight Sun one of these days. It’s just a little hard at the moment because I first got it and read it during a rough phase two months ago...opening the book just brings back the memories. It’ll be a while before I’m able to dissociate from those thoughts and enjoy the book. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Yes, the typhoon. The wind was loud enough to wake me up. The electricity also went out a little after midnight, so that also made it hard to fall back asleep. What kind(s) of Facebook groups are you active in, if any? Too many, but I deactivated Facebook again so it doesn’t matter. Do you enjoy any films with Judi Dench in them? Which ones? I respect her contributions as an actress but I’m generally not a fan of the films in her repertoire, so I haven’t seen any of them. I do remember wanting to check out The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but I just never got around to it. Do you enjoy any herbal or fruit teas? What kinds? No, I don’t like tea. Are you currently wearing anything grey? Yeah, my current shirt is gray. Nice timing :) Name any object in your household that is purple. The pen on my work desk is purple. I also have a purple highlighter that I used while still in college. What was the last food item that you used your hands to eat? Churros. Have you seen anyone today that you consider to be attractive? Nope, I’ve only seen my family and even though I wouldn’t call them ugly, I don’t find them attractive in ~that way either. Do you recall what you were doing at 9:30 this morning? Trying to take a survey before realizing I wouldn’t be able to finish it because I felt a breakdown coming through. Do you use a moisturizer? What brand? No. My skin doesn’t really require lots of maintenance, so I’ve left it be for the most part. Do you currently own or use any toiletries with a fruity scent? I don’t think so. My shampoo has that original scent that just smells like...shampoo, I guess, my conditioner smells like milk, and my toothpaste is minty rather than fruity. Does anyone close to you have a beard? Dad, but he shaves it off all the time. The last time you were in your kitchen, what task(s) did you carry out? I made myself coffee. Name some pop groups that you loved as a child. Wasn’t into any as a child, but as a teenager I liked One Direction. Ok fine, as an adult too heheh Do you recall the first CD you ever owned? The High School Musical soundtrack lol Have you ever worked with anyone named Sophie? What was she like? I went to school with multiple Sophies but I never had to work with them. What terms of endearment do you mostly use when speaking to others? I use “b” or “bb” with nearly everyone, as long as it’s appropriate. Is anyone in your family currently pregnant? No. I used to think I was next, but I think I’ll be waiting a lot longer now. I don’t even know if it would still happen to me...which is sad, because I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Do you have any specific plans for this weekend? If the typhoon subsides by this week I’ll be expecting my cross-stitch kit that I ordered online, and I can’t wait to start learning all weekend. {found @ pinkchocolate}

[rilesandlucas]

18th Birthday

Thanks @abbiescholler for the request, sorry its late. 

A/n-OMG, tumblr, wattpad-Hello how are ya? It's been a crazy amount of time but omg it feels good to be back. I got this request way too long ago and I have some more free time now so here I am finally writing it. I missed y'all and I can't wait to revisit Riles and Lucas. Happy reading.

not proof read lol.

Riley skipped her way up the fire escape of her apartment, she was gleaming with excitement as her feet hit each step, her smile growing continuously. She reached the final step of the fire escape and slowly peered into the bay window, expecting to see her best friend and boyfriend patiently waiting to surprise her. However as her head slowly continued to look into the window she quickly realised neither of them were there. Her smile faltered slightly but she quickly brushed it off and considered that they were probably waiting for her inside. She jumped in through her bay window, her favourite starbucks drink that she had gone to get earlier in her hand, and grabbed her phone from her jean pocket. When she looked down at her phone she saw she had two texts from Maya and Lucas;

Lukey; Hey Riles, sorry I had to run out before you came back this morning, had to help my mum. Maybe see you tomorrow? xx

Maya; Won't b ova today Peaches, art stuff u get it, luv ya.

Riley sighed confused, 'Surely they didn't forget, this is way too 16 candles'. At that moment her Mother, Father and brother all burst in to her room, Balloons and cake in hand.

'HAPPY 18th RILEY' They screamed, partially in unison except for Auggie who glared at his parents because he thought they were yelling 'Happy birthday' instead. They all laughed at Auggie’s anger and gave Riley a hug.

'So sweetie, where are Lucas and Maya, I thought for sure they'd be here?' Topanga questioned while attempting to clean up Riley's room. She had grown to love cleaning Riley's room lately because it meant she could snoop on whether Lucas had stayed the night or not. She always laughed at how discrete Riley and Lucas thought they were being, but really they were anything but subtle, whether it was clothing left behind or both sides of the doona where clearly slept on. Topanga truly didn't care if Lucas did want to stay the night, the kids had just never asked her.

'No they're not here, I left this morning to get a drink and I swore they'd be here when I got back. I think they're pretending they forgot.' Riley sulked, she really didn't want to believe they forgot, but Lucas and Maya were horrible liars and it's unlikely they could pull off a big surprise, especially not later in the day. They usually would get too excited and cave before 10am.

'Look, I'm sure the group is just surprising you, I mean have you heard from Farkle, Smackle or Zay yet?' Cory questioned, he was quite concerned considering he really hadn't heard anything about a surprise from the group, so he wasn't really sure if their actually was one.

'I guess not, you're probably right, and maybe they just wanted me to have a morning with my family alone' The family burst into laughter at this statement, Maya and Lucas wanting Riley to be alone with her family and not spend time with them? It was unheard of. Alas, Riley brushed it off considering that she hadn't heard from anyone else and there's no way they'd all forgot. She scrolled through her facebook timeline as her family left to go make breakfast when a facetime notification popped up on her phone.

FARKLEY <3

Riley quickly answered hoping it had something to do with her surprise and was greeted by the faces of Zay, Smackle and Farkle.

'Happy birthday sugar.' She heard Zay yell from the back. Smackle quickly turned around and hit Zay on the arm.

'Zay, we promised Farkle he could say happy birthday first.' She scolded and Zay just rolled his eyes.

'Look, I'm new to the group, I've gotta let Riley know I care the most so I'm the favourite.' He retorted making Riley giggle. It was at this point that Farkle turned around and hit Zay.

'Zay, are you fucking serious, you've been our friend for two years and you still aren't the favourite, it's not gonna happen.'

'Umm guys hello.' Riley yelled as the three friends started to bicker.

'Sorry sugar, I know Lucas is the favourite cause ya know' Zay stated winking through the phone making everyone roll their eyes.

'Anyway happy birthday Riley, can we come up, are Maya and Lucas done with their surprise?' Farkle questioned through the phone.

'What surprise?' Riley inquired.

'We all just figured Lucas and Maya where surprising you, that's why we didn't come over. Now that I think of it they never mentioned it.' Farkle replied while climbing through Riley's window with Smackle and Zay in tow.

Riley got up from her bed and quickly hugged her friends who all had a balloon each and a big teddy bear. They all sat back down in the bay window and looked around for any sign of Lucas and Maya.

'Surely they didn't forgot, its your 18th. Although I mean now that I think of it Lucas didn't say anything, I thought it was just cause I can't keep a secret. But surely you brought it up Riles, you mentioned it to me like 8 times.' Zay spoke attempting to comfort Riley.

'I never brought it up around him cause I thought he was planning a surprise and I didn't want him to spoil it.' Riley peered sadly, she had accepted it, they must have just forgot. The group sat for a moment contemplating the situation, had the others really forgot?

'Well, for now let's do something fun, how about your favourite activity, Mini golf?' Farkle beamed and the group jumped up and ran out the window.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Riley stumbled into her bedroom at 8 after going out with her friends. After mini golf Riley had still heard nothing from Lucas and Maya, so in an attempt to cheer her up, while Smackle and Farkle weren't looking,  Zay gave Riley some alcohol he had bought with his fake ID. Although Riley thought she was fine, the tequila had really hit her just as she reached home and she was now feeling really tipsy. She burst open her door and jumped onto her bed feeling a little lethargic. Just as she was closing her eyes she looked up and saw Lucas walking slowly out of her closet.

'Hi sweet girl' Lucas hummed walking over and embracing Riley. As soon as Riley was enclosed in his arms the smell of alcohol hit his nostrils and he jumped back.

'Riley-' He started but she bounced up and slapped and his arm.

'You're silly you forgot my birthday' She pouted her arms folded on her chest. It was at this point she had realised that Riley was most definitely drunk.

'Maya' Lucas called causing Maya to slid out from under Riley's bed.

'Ok, Huckleberry what don't you understand about pretend you forgot and I'll jump out in twenty and surprise her' Maya sassed pulling out her airpods.

'No Maya, abort mission she's drunk' Lucas spoke ushering to Riley who was singing and playing with her hair.

'NO fair, you said I couldn't get her drunk' Maya pouted hitting Lucas.

'OWW, no I didn't get her drunk, it must have been Zay.'

'Oh, well mad respect he did what I wasn't brave enough to do.' Maya beamed while pumping her fist to the sky. Lucas rolled his eyes and looked down at Riley, pushing her hair out of her face.

'Well what are we gonna do now?' Lucas questioned.

'I mean she had her fun today, let's just take her up there and sleep, she can see it in the morning.' Maya replied. Lucas picked Riley up as she was now silently sleeping and walked her to the roof, he placed her down right in the middle of himself and Maya and kissed her on the forehead.

'Night beautiful, Happy birthday'.

------------------------------

Riley woke up with a pounding headache, she groaned as she slowly opened her eyes. It wasn't for a second that she noticed that the sun was quite a lot brighter than usual. She stretched her arms out expecting to be in her bed but instead was met by two hard objects.

'Ow', Lucas groaned after Riley's fist connected with his face. Maya laughed as she looked over at the exact moment that Riley's fist had connected.

'What are you two doing here. Why are we outside?' Riley questioned looking around. They were on the roof of their building laying on about 20 pillows and a large tarp was in front of them.

'Well princess, if you hadn't have gone out and gotten smashed, this was your birthday surprise.' Lucas replied kissing her hand.

'Yeah it's not gonna work now but we set this up with a projector we bought you and we were gonna watch your favourite movies, we still can we just have to wait till tonight .' Maya laughed pointing to the projector.

'That's why we had to hold off seeing you, we wouldn't have been able to not tell you for that long, plus we wanted some suspense and for you to spend some time with your family.' Lucas followed, embracing Riley in a small hug.

Riley stiffled a laugh and replied, 'I love you guys, even if your surprises never work out'. They all laughed and hugged each other while Riley looked over at her 'Happy birthday' sign. Best birthday ever, she thought to herself.

A/n Ok so thanks for reading, I can't believe these characters would be all grown up now, its crazy. I had no idea where to go with this but it carried well I feel. Let me know and send prompts, I have one to do which hopefully I'll do soon.

-xo Bay

[bookworlders]

are you ever going to finish of corporate scandals?

yes! one day! but not today lol here’s a new percabeth au instead! it’s based off the movie The Wedding Date. 

Annabeth’s old camp buddies, Piper and Jason are getting married and the whole gang is reuniting for the celebration. Luke is her ex who broke her heart, and she refuses to show up alone to their wedding so she takes her roommate’s advice. She hires a fake boyfriend. 

part 1

Annabeth checked and rechecked the tickets in her hand. The 5:15PM Long Island Rail Road from Penn Station to Montauk. Platform 7. She had that info submitted to memory from the moment she bought the tickets. Her phone buzzed. Her hand flew to her jacket pocket. A boarding notification. She exhaled, glad it wasn’t the “Hey, this plan is crazy and so are you, I’m out!” text she had been expecting.

“Annabeth?”

She whirled around, dragging her suitcase along with her. Oh gods, he was taller than she remembered. And much more handsome. “Hi.”

“Sorry I’m late, babe.”  grabbed her waist and kissed her.

~

“Honey, I’m home!” Rachel yelled, kicking off her red rainboots and dumping her keys on the dining table. Annabeth waved at her from the couch, motioning to her phone.

“Who is it?” Rachel asked, already stalking across their apartment to the kitchen to rummage for food.

“Piper,” Annabeth mouthed. She covered the receiver, “Rach, if you’re looking for the leftovers from yesterday, they’re long gone.”

“You bitch.” She swung open the refrigerator.

“What—No, of course I’m paying attention, Pipes—Yeah, got it, dress rehearsal is at seven, pictures on Sunday at ten.”

“Bridezilla come out yet?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. Piper was the most laid-back bride in the world. She covered the receiver again, “More like Groomzilla.” Rachel laughed, as Piper continued to rattle off the list of appointments Jason had asked her to pass along to Annabeth. “Listen, Pipes, I have to go. Facetime me during your fitting tomorrow. Love you. See you soon. Bye.”

Annabeth tossed her phone on the coffee table before walking into their tiny, Manhattan-sized kitchen to join her roommate. “How was rehearsal?” Annabeth asked, leaning against the counter as Rachel scarfed down leftovers she managed to dig out of their fridge.

“Terrible. How was your day?”

“Also terrible.”

“Why? Remote wedding planning not working out?”

“No, the wedding is going to be perfect. I’m an awesome bridesmaid even though I’m across the country from them. It’s just, you know, certain people…”

“Luke.”

“Yes, Luke. He’s going to be a groomsman now.”

“Oof.”

“So now I won’t just have to bear seeing him at the wedding. He’s going to be there all weekend for all the wedding prep.”

“I’m sure Piper and Jason will know not to put you in a situation where make you have to interact.”

“Still! I haven’t seen him since he, you know. And this is the first time I’m going to see so many of our friends again since the breakup. There’s no way he’s not bringing a date. I can’t show my face! My pathetic, single face.”

“Then you bring a date! Show up with some hot arm candy and show him.”

“The wedding is next week! Where am I going to find a date?”

“Doesn’t matter as long as he’s hot.”

“Also, if I do somehow meet someone in the next week, I can’t bring them to a wedding. Wedding’s are not first date material. Wedding’s say, meet my parents, I want commitment! And we all know how guys feel about fucking commitment,” Annabeth spat out, “No guy would go to wedding as a first date.”

“He would if you paid him,” Rachel scoffed, “Or slept with him.”

Annabeth smacked her arm, “Stop joking! You know what, I’m tired of talking about this, it’s stressing me out.” Annabeth wrenched open the freezer and grabbed her emergency pint of half-baked Ben & Jerry’s. “How was rehearsal?”

“Lousy. I still can’t believe you’re going to miss my show.”

“I’m coming to opening night!”

“Yeah, but it’s an off-off-Broadway production of Romeo & Juliet I needed you to come every night to fill the house so at least we know for sure we’ll have an audience.”

“You won’t need me. Shakespeare always draw a crowd.”

“This is going to be the worst show I’ve directed ever. Grover got poison ivy, poison oak, and poison fern believe it or not, so I had to find an understudy last minute. I specifically told him not to hook up with his girlfriend in Central Park.”

“I’m sure it will be great.”

“Let’s just hope Juliet doesn’t get poison fern.”

Annabeth was the only one in a crowd of about seventeen who gave the cast a standing ovation, but she didn’t care. In this basement theater of a rec center in Washington Heights, seventeen was basically a full house.

“Great job!” Annabeth said, hugging her roommate and thrusting a bouquet of sunflowers, Rachel’s favorite, into her arms. She and a couple of the actors’ friends and family members had been invited to the ‘cast party’ after the show — aka pizza and soda in another room of the rec center.

“Thanks, Annabeth. You really liked it?” Rachel said, beaming as various crew members patted her on the back as they went to grab pizza.

“Yes! The decision to set the play in a post-apocalyptic, Game of Thrones¬¬-y Verona was so cool. And the actors were phenomenal. Even when that magician walked right onto the stage. The way they improvised—”

“It’s because it’s happened before! People also book birthday parties here and they get the rooms confused! During our tech rehearsal, a clown walked in!”

“Well, your show was amazing. I’m so proud,” Annabeth said, sincerely. “Your cast was great.” Over Rachel’s shoulder she spotted the actor who played Romeo talking with brown-haired woman and man with glasses and salt and pepper hair. “Especially Romeo.”

Rachel beamed, glancing over her shoulder at him, “I know right! Wasn’t he amazing? He’s the understudy!”

“No way,” Annabeth said. His performance had been captivating to say the least. His monologues as Romeo were enough to make Annabeth swoon.

“His name’s Percy,” Rachel lowered her voice, “I love Grover, but I’m almost bummed his poison ivy rash is almost cleared up.”

“How did you find him?”

“Our theater major alumni Facebook group. He’s a friend of Grover’s.”

“And he willingly memorized a lead part’s lines in a Shakespearean play in less than a week?” Annabeth asked, incredulous.

“You know actors, Annabeth, they’ll do anything for a gig. Especially a paid one.” Rachel said, “I have to go talk to my stage manager, go get pizza!”

Annabeth walked over to the table spread with food. Pizza, chips, various dips, soda, utensils and blue cookies? As Annabeth filled a red solo cup with lemonade, her eye wandered back to Romeo. The couple, his parents she assumed, had left, and he was now chatting with the actress who played Juliet.

He was so handsome. Actors always were. Tall, dark-haired, green-eyed. Dreamy. He definitely would still be taller than her in the stilettos the bridesmaids were wearing. If only she could roll up to the wedding with someone like him on her arm…

Annabeth shoved him away, “What are you doing?”

Percy looked at her, confused, “Um? I’m your…boyfriend?”

“We don’t have to start now. Not until we get to the wedding.” Annabeth straightened her blazer. She thrusted his ticket into his hands, and extended the handles of her rolling suitcase, “Come on, they’ve already started boarding.”

Percy followed her, smoothly taking her suitcase from her and loading it up the steps of the train for her. She shot him a look.

Percy lowered his voice, following her through the aisle of the train car, “Any of the other wedding guests could be on this same train, we don’t want to ruin this before it even starts.” Annabeth chose two seats at the back of the train car. She slid into the window seat. Percy lifted her suitcase and his oversized duffle bag into the overhead compartment with ease.

“It’s Thursday and the wedding isn’t until Sunday. The only people heading up there now are in the wedding party, mostly out-of-towners, and they all flew in this morning,” Annabeth said, curtly. She tried to remain cool even though she was feeling so flustered by him. She could barely even look him in the eye. She felt so embarrassed even though this was her damn idea.

“You look very nice.”

Annabeth flushed. “Thank you,” she muttered. Her hair was frizzy after commuting in the midsummer humidity straight from her office building to Penn Station, but she knew she looked good today. She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her cream pencil skirt.

His hair was messier and curlier than it was the night of the play, contrary to his Romeo’s gelled down locks. He looked so relaxed and cool in a button down with the sleeves rolled up and navy shorts.

“Okay,” Percy said, shifting towards her as the other passengers began to fill up the remaining seats. “Debrief me. What’s my job? Where am I from? How did we meet?”

Annabeth stared at him. “You’re Percy, an actor from New York. We met at my roommate’s show.” Duh?

“Come on, no cool backstory for me to try method acting?”

“No, the most convincing lies are closest to the truth,” Annabeth replied, “And I need this to be convincing.”

“I want a challenge.”

“Isn’t pretending to be my boyfriend enough of a challenge?”

Percy grinned, “Shouldn’t be that hard.”

Annabeth flushed again, “Then why exactly am I paying you $2,000?”

“Like you said, I’m convincing,”

“Please have your tickets out. Next stop is Babylon.”

Annabeth looked out her window as the platform fell away into the darkness of the tunnels. The train gained speed and made its way out of Manhattan.

When Annabeth awoke, the LIRR train was no longer underground, but racing through the tracks of Long Island. The train ride to Montauk was three hours long so the last rays of sun had just disappeared.

Annabeth glanced over at Percy, also was dozing away, head tilted back and mouth fully open. He really was so attractive. Tan, chiseled face with a jaw some women would murder for, but he still had a boyish softness to his expression, especially when he slept.

“Next stop, Montauk.”

Annabeth nudged him. Percy blinked groggily and cracked a goofy grin when he saw her looking at him.

“You drool in your sleep.”

[aplaceforthesoul]

Anonymous submitted:

Advice

Hi. I really need some advice. I’m in my first year of uni and obviously it’s all online now. Each week in our zoom classes we get put into random ‘breakout rooms’ and meet a bunch of people. Obviously there isn’t much time to socially interact because we have assigned work to do. However, there have been a number of instances where I’ve met people who seem somewhat nice and people I’d potentially want to be friends with. Despite that, I don’t really know how to really initiate a friendship with them in a non weird, non awkward way. The first point of contact would be email but I have no clue what to say (well I did draft something out but I’m afraid they’ll be so weirded out thinking like we only talked for a few minutes and now she’s emailing me wanting to talk more and be friends, what a complete weirdo, how desperate can someone be etc). Also once we email and then text or whatever, it’s really hard to develop let alone maintain a friendship that is solely online. What would we talk about? How often is considered normal to text?

To give you some context (since it may come across like I am a socially inept idiot), I have never actually had true friends in my life. I’ve gone above and beyond for people and tried so hard to be the best friend anyone could want and never got anything in return, putting in all the effort and being there and no one giving a fuck about me in the end. Everyone takes friendships for granted and I would kill to experience one true friendship. Also in this quarantine where people are constantly moaning about how it’s so awful to be away from their friends does my head in, I would give anything to have people like that in my life. Anyway I try to distract myself but sometimes when I sit idly or just lie awake with my thoughts at night, I realise how truly alone I am and feel so fucking empty inside. It’s just me and my parents. I don’t have any siblings and the family I actually care about are all across the world. So I suppose this is question is in parts.

I do want to know how exactly to start a friendship with people I’ve met through random allocation into groups online in a completely natural, confident manner, like a step by step manual because sometimes I’m not even sure I remember how to make friends anymore because it’s been so long. Like what exactly to write in an email and how to keep communication going via text, how to actually start a friendship that is strictly online and how to then suggest to meet up once this is over all like a normal person. I have a tendency to be clingy at the start which people never understand is because I’ve never had a friend so at the start it’s something so exciting and dear to me and I feel so out of the loop, I don’t know how often to text someone to have a healthy friendship but that doesn’t appear needy and annoying.

Also, there is one more thing. I’ve gone to all girls schools my whole life and as a result have been completely isolated from guys. In all honesty, even if I have had like zero contact with a person in the male species, I can already tell as time goes on and I finally make friends, I will end up with more guy friends. But the thing is, I have absolutely no clue how to talk to guys (in a completely platonic way mind you), and as I’ve said, I am not particularly well versed in the social nuances being void of friendships so I don’t know whether emailing a guy a similar message about wanting to talk more and then meet up once this whole pandemic is over would suggest things I obviously don’t mean. Like I don’t want any guy to get the wrong impression that me contacting them is anything other than a friendship. I feel like nowadays the slightest thing can be misconstrued and I don’t want any guy to get weirded out because they misinterpret me wanting to be friends as something it’s not. But I also just generally feel so alone and I don’t deserve to. I always tried so hard to be a good friend to others and I got nothing in return from toxic people who never actually cared about me. Apologies for the rambling. Thank you if you made it to the end lol.

hi there :) about your online classes, zoom and wanting to become friends with some of the people in the classes? social media is where it’s at 😌

I find emails quite a formal way of introducing yourself to someone? 0: and unless it’s work / school related, not many people I know of use email much anyway! social media is a lot more relaxed and informal, it’s what everyone uses in some form or another so it makes it much easier to get replies from people and to start building a friendship. if you don’t have social media, would you consider making an account? instagram and facebook are two of the big ones when it comes to both public posts and private conversations, it’s easier to create new friendships if you’re both using the same platform. 

I agree that it’s hard to maintain friendships that are solely online, but it doesn’t have to be that way. even if all of your university classes are now online due to coronavirus, that doesn’t mean that everything has to be there. when lockdown measures start to lift, you could maybe suggest to meet up and grab a coffee? or create a study group? there’s lots of ways of to keep friendships going in real life without always needing online support. you could talk about anything haha, the weather, what they got up to on the weekend?! ask lots of questions and get to know them better, don’t be afraid to share parts of your personal life too :) talking a few times a week would be best when starting off a new friendship -- too much contact and they might feel a little overwhelmed, not enough and suddenly there’s a bit too much distance and things feel weird. 

it’s a bit hard for me to give a step-by-step manual, because most friendships occur organically and naturally? also, everyone’s different! there’s no one set rule or manual that you can follow and things will work every time, sometimes it’s a trial and error process. what I do know however, is that the more you practice something then the better you are at it and the more natural it feels. a few general tips: smile if you’re chatting to them on zoom / skype / video call, use emojis if appropriate, maybe throw in a nice compliment about something they’re wearing or how they’ve styled their hair? being nice to someone and making them feel good and confident about something never hurts :* this post here could be helpful to check out as well, give it a read and see what you think.

if you don’t want future guy friends to get the wrong impression about meeting up? just be honest and clear about what you want :) communicate the fact that you wanna be a friend, maybe drop hints of a “partner” to make it clear that you’re not interested in anything sexual etc. communication is key!! in any relationship, be it romantic or platonic or otherwise. treat guys as you would anyone else haha, they’re human just like you and me. say hi, smile and have open body language, ask questions, get to know them on a more personal level, share aspects of your life too, take it one day at a time. I hope this helps you lovely, all the best <3

- tash

[god-hunter]

Adjusting to Singledom

It’s about time for an update on my Single Situation, if that’s what we’re calling it.  I’ve been meaning to clarify some things since unofficially starting these rants back in 2018 anyway.  It might be short, it might be long.  So let’s run through it and see.  I’m gonna be talking about 6 girls that I’m talking to, so pay attention and keep up.  This rant is going to be interesting.

First of all, the Work Crush that I had brought up originally back in 2018 is NOT Dancing Girl.  Nono, Work Crush, or Original Crush was a 28 year old Barbie lookin’ Office Hottie that had so much bubbly energy about her, I didn’t know what to do with it.  I never resolved that story, btw.  After we became Friends on Facebook, she was that type of person that didn’t really message much.  Eventually group hang outs happened and she met my Then-Girlfriend.  And the two got along so well that we just became Couple Friends.

Post break up, she had reached out to me.  I’m going to refer to her as Twin, because that is what she used to refer to me as at work, affectionately.  First of all, Twin & her boyfriend were supposed to come over for dinner, but it didn’t work out.  It’s just as well, because my Ex and I got into a fight while fixing up the apartment before they had cancelled.  Then we broke up.   So with this bizarre scenario, Twin had still wanted to see me.  I’ll be 3rd Wheeling it and checking out their new apartment instead [which is not so new at this point.]. That plan has never surfaced as of yet, due to general busyness, but now Covid-19 is affecting our plans. Since time is moving on, by the time this outbreak calms down I’ll probably be settled into my own place.  And she is very much looking forward to visiting me with her guy one day, but I’m not holding my breath.

I mention Twin, because she’s a former crush that won’t go away.  I’m not trying to do anything, obviously. She has a great boyfriend who likes me a lot.  But she’s definitely a significant girl in my life, and I would be very happy to hang with her (and him) more in the future.

Speaking of couples, I’m going to refer to my Beautiful Friendship as the Significant Couple.  They are certainly a collective and I still like talking to them a lot.  I won’t deny that I’ve been hoping to be intimate again since that one awesome night, but the differing schedules make that very difficult.  Still, one thing worth noting is that I’ve spoken to both parties about the idea of... not hanging up the phone when They want to get intimate, and neither are opposed to it.  So for the moment, I’ll just leave it at that =).  I respect these 2 immensely for being so open to their experiences.

But now it’s time to add some new names to this mix.  This was the purpose of this entry.  Let’s talk about Bakery Girl.  This too, is a former co-worker and friend of Twin.  I call her Bakery Girl because she literally left our job to work in a new office for better pay, but hated it so much that she ended up quitting and working at her favorite Bakery that she’s now a Manager of.  So, that seemed to work out for her, for now. Well, this is a person that was always pleasant at work.  She was always nice, and nice on the eyes lol.  We always got along, but didn't really interact or ever flirt.  Still... Facebook can be a real beautiful thing.

Before she had left our job, she had mentioned that she wanted to get drinks with me.  (Not just me, but a bunch of us from work.). Of course I said yeah as this was just a friend thing.  ...It never happened.  Instead Dancing Girl came out and.. that crush began, I guess.

But anyway...  Since the Breakup I opened up to a bunch of people.  And I suppose it was week 3 or so, that I had told her about it on FB.  I’m not quite sure when we first spoke about my new situation, but I do remember being in my old bedroom and not feeling miserable, because she was so fun to talk to.  I wasn’t moping about my last chapter, but merely informing her as we caught up.  And then as we talked, the energy felt borderline flirty, or sort of like this friendly vetting process.  What I mean by that is we’ll tell each other stuff, and see how the other feels about the topics.  Most we agree on.  Some we definitely differ on.  But respect is there. Anyway, more-to-the-point.  After a couple of failed attempts at talking on Facebook, I tried one more time last night and got another good conversation with her.  And this time, I was able to bring it over to the phone.  I got her number!  So who knows if it’ll go anywhere, but for now I’ll take that victory. This girl’s definitely a good person, and even if it’s a long-term developing thing she is someone definitely worth keeping in touch with.  It really helps that she’s 28 and not 21.  Or as she refers to Dancing Girl... she’s not 12, lol.  [Yes, she knows Dancing Girl too from work, but she has no idea that I was into her.  I plan to keep it that way.]

Speaking of Dancing Girl, her and Dante are fucking annoying, yo.  We barely talk at breaks now, because I’m not trying.  Instead Dante’s either being an idiot or just cooing at her, and the two of them are just obnoxious with each other in my space.  But I’m learning to put it in its place.  Literally everything is changing.  Breaks now seem to get split up between us all chilling and talking, then the two of them splitting off to smoke weed, while my other dude in his 40′s goes and smokes a cig by himself.  Today I took it upon myself to make it my new normal to join him when he smokes that cig.  Since no one else really talks to each other any more...  We just literally hang around each other while everyone’s on their phones.  It sickens me.  But I guess that’s what happens when Millenials see each other every day...  [And no, I don’t smoke, but I’ve always gone outside for the fresh air and good company.  Now that company ain’t so good any more, but they’re still my friends.]

There’s another former co-worker I hit up, but nothing to really report yet.  I don’t have a codename for her yet, but I asked if she’d like to catch up over dinner and she said, yes.  But after the Coronavirus passes, if that’s okay.  I told her it was, and instead we caught up on Facebook for an hour or so.  For now I’ll call her the Social Distancer... =P

And lastly, I’m going to bring up Gamer Girl.  This one’s a slippery slope, but it’s very important to talk about now, because I do not know what is going to happen next.  She is my Ex’s friend, but ever since we dated, she was always into both of us.  Like, she literally would’ve swung with us if my Ex was into that.  I’ll never forget, she was like, “Wow. You two are hot.”   She’s been referred to as a Unicorn, because she loves getting into sexual situations, but she has no romantic attachment to any of it.  And this is why I’m bringing her up. Again, it was about 3 weeks after the break up.  The Ex and I had gotten into a fight post-break up, which propelled me to really want to leave.  And at the worst time, she messaged me starting with, “I hope this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable...”  And then she proceeded to talk about how she was lonely and not good at making friends and needs an area friend to hang out with.  She brought up a past divorce and that she doesn’t want anything romantic, but she wants to play video games and have pizza with me.  She opened it up as a night where I could vent to her and just have fun.

Against my better judgement, I said yeah.  Plans weren’t made until this week.  Literally tomorrow night, I’ll be seeing what this actually is.  Now, on paper, it might simply be pizza and video games.  But we’ve talked a little since then.  In the first place, she was flirty and brought up her whole schedule for the week.  Then she said, “On this day I’m off and have no plans other than to have no pants on.”  Something like that.  Now, why would she say something like that to me, if not to get a rise out of me...? Then I gagued it a little further when we made the plan.  She brought up that Free Pizza is best pizza and I told her, “No way. I’ll happily pay my share,”  then she explained to me that she has so many points that it’ll be a completely free pizza.  So instead I offered to supply the drinks and asked what she likes. “Rum and Coke is my poison of choice,”  o.o. “Rum and Coke it is!!”

So we’re drinkin’ now...

I’m trying not to get my hopes up.  I’m trying not to make it weird. But knowing that this girl didn’t want to make me uncomfortable, but she's been lonely since her divorce and wants to hang out, but doesn’t want anything romantic...  and knowing that she’s the type of person to screw without attachment...  and then she’s telling me that she wants to drink, now...

I mean, how can I not get a little excited!?  Also, we’re playing Fallout Vegas, so that’ll probably be very fun. Right now my plan is to expect nothing, but be prepared for it to get weird.  The Ex will inevitably be brought up, along with any venting that goes along with it.

I don’t expect to win her over that way, and I’m not exactly trying to do that anyway.  But who knows how she gets?  Maybe she’s just casual as fuck and she’ll want to cuddle??  For comfort??  I have no idea.

But as a Single Dude, I am fucking Game.  This is my new Revolution, man.  I don’t care.  Between the randomness of this hang out, Bakery Girl practically interviewing me about the Ex - asking if I’m over her and then giving me her number, and the Social Distancer being interested in dinner, I’m feeling Really Confident right now.  Not to mention that the Significant Couple is chill as fuck and I always like talking to them.

Things are interesting now...  Things are definitely different.  My New Normal isn’t here yet.  But I’m adjusting all the same.

[megbox]

2019 Year in Review

Previous Posts: (2018) (2017) (2016) (2015) (2014) (2013) (2012) (2011) 

It’s actually kind of interesting how... less interesting these year-in-reviews get as I get older. Depending on how you look at it, 2019 was somewhat of an unremarkable year. I spent much of it tragically broke, I didn’t get the opportunity to do much traveling. But at the same time, not having these flashy, colourful experiences to write about all the time makes me value the easy, simple things more. It forces me to be a bit more reflective about how the day-to-day life I am carving out for myself teaches me things and about the person I am becoming. 

Far and away, the most positive thing to come out of 2019 has been that I am real deals social worker now. I have the best job in the entire world. I have “RSW” in my email signature and on my business cards. I do work that is meaningful to me every single day. There is so much to learn but I’m in the right place to be learning it. And I am really proud of myself for getting here ❤️

January 

Unlike the last few years, 2019 began on a high note. The millisecond that student loan hit my direct deposit, I took a little trip to Jasper to visit my friend Oliver who was teaching snowboarding at Marmot Basin for the season. I braved some very treacherous roads to make it to Jasper. It took me nearly eight hours. Highway 93 was closed so I had to take the long route and basically white-knuckled it the whole way. But it was so worth it. I found myself later that evening in a dorm room full of young Scandinavian people, downing American Vintage iced teas and feeling like I was at a frat party. We went to this club called Four Peaks and they played Rasputin by Boney M and everyone went crazy. I hooked up with this gorgeous Danish ski instructor named Rasmus. He was so beautiful. I am proud of that one, honestly. Oliver and I went skiing and hiking and we went to Earl’s and he tried a Caeser. By the end of the weekend, I think we maybe ran out of things to talk about. But it was really cool to see him and to hear about the last few years of his life and how excited he was to move to New Zealand to be with his girlfriend (whom he met on the same trip where he and I met, in Hawaii!)

On January 14, I started my second practicum. It was a sad transition. My time at CommunityWise had been so great that anything new was going to pale in comparison but my new placement was especially bad. It was so slow there. My computer hadn’t been updated in years and I didn’t have access to anything for weeks. My supervisor was barely around (not her fault, though. She was finishing her MSW, had two young children, was the team lead for both family centres in the city and had two practicum students to supervise. Girl was busy). I remember one morning while I was helping one of the caseworkers with some menial task like organizing the food pantry, and I was just so frustrated, I kind of asked her point-blank, “Is this practicum meant to be more self-directed?” and I just started crying as I asked it. I kind of… whimpered it. It was awkward but from that point on, they made way more of an effort to give me tasks and engage me in the work that was being done there. Lesson learned: you get what you ask for.

February  The first weekend of February is what we would call a “power weekend.” Looking back on these actions now, I cringe. However, at the time, I was pretty stoked. I slept with a friend from podcast club after a house party. For ease, I will refer to him as W. W had asked me out twice prior to this happening. I actually said yes, and we had plans to get drinks, but his best friend ended up going through a breakup the night before and he cancelled last minute. So then we slept together. Drunkenly. And it wasn’t… good. I chalked it up to the drunkenness. We went out on a real date, I made sure to have like one glass of wine maximum. He was lovely and great company and he taught me how to play crib but… you know that feeling when you’re like god, I wish I was enjoying this but I am just not enjoying this. It was like that all night. And it felt heavy. If I am being completely honest, there was also this strange moment that night where I had the thought, “he kind of looks like my grandfather if he were younger” and there is truly no recovering from that kind of realization.

February was also a terrible month because I had no days off. I will go to my grave angry about being required to work for free in my practicums. I was doing 32+ unpaid hours at this boring practicum and then working evenings and weekends at Famoso whenever I could. And Famoso was dead, so I wasn’t even making good money. This was also where I began to start witnessing things in my practicum that started to fuck with me. At first, I thought I was just having trouble sleeping. But over time in seminar and debriefs with my social work friends who were going through the same thing I realized that it was the oh-so-pleasant combination of vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue. 

Over the reading week, I went to Fernie with Maddy and her friends for a ski/party weekend and that was truly awesome. One of those weekends where your ribs ache for days once you’re back because you laughed so hard. Some highlights: 

It snowed 60cm the night before we skied. It was powder up to your waist. 

• Maddy’s friend Melissa liked our bartender at the hostel. She took his phone and texted herself from it so he would have her number and vice versa. Then she got so drunk that later the same evening, she was looking at the text and forgot that she had sent it to herself so she texted back, “Who is this?” Also LOL #Bryna. 

• I took nudes of Maddy in the hostel shower to send to the guy she was seeing at the time. LOL. What are friends for? 

• Maddy and I met this set of twins who are the definition of gym bros. Identical twins. We ended up hooking up with them. At the same time. In our bunk bed at the hostel. We high fived. I later fell off the top bunk. We gave them a beer for the road when they left. All year long, we send one another their Instagram posts and stories whenever it’s them flexing in the gym mirror and just laugh about, “we really slept with those guys.” 

March 

In March, I got the flu. It was very annoying. I had to miss practicum (meaning I’d have to make up the hours somehow later). I stated binge watching Grey’s Anatomy. 

I ended things with W. It was kind of harsh but it needed to be done. I need to stop breaking up with people in the weeks prior to my birthday because we had a total Dave-Simard-2.0 situation where W told me he had purchased a birthday present for me and he still wanted to give it to me.

I also ran the St. Patrick’s Day Road Race again!!! Good times as always. 

Practicum got much better in March. I had many things to do. I got to design the curriculum for and facilitate a six-week girl’s group. I assisted with the planning and running of a series of community tax clinics which was cool. Except the guy from the agency whose project it was is a creep. He kept telling me all of these stories that were incredibly inappropriate given the fact that we knew each other only in a professional sense. He made many comments about women’s bodies and appearances that were gross. And I got left in some pretty unsafe situations all by myself. AND he made me pay out of pocket for snacks for one of the tax clinics and never reimbursed me for that. I kind of forgot about that until just now. Wow. 

April 

April was a big month! 

I went to Portland for my birthday weekend with Matt and Connor. When I think back to this trip, it was lovely, but mostly what I remember is a lot of beer, a lot of rain, and being hungover. Portland is a really cool city. I wasn’t totally expecting to be confronted with as much homelessness and substance use as I was but, that’s my privilege talking. Some highlights from the trip include: 

• The “Flower in the Kettle” IPA I had. 

• The mascarpone, corn and lobster agnolotti I had for my birthday dinner at A Cena. Recommended to me by a trusted friend I worked with at Famoso. So rich. SO FUCKING GOOD. 

• Meeting this really drunk real estate agent at a dive bar and convincing her that Matt and Connor were both my boyfriends. I still have her business card in my wallet. I am unsure why. 

• The Weezer concert was honestly awesome. 

• Matt actually trying out the guyliner. 

• Meeting some random guy when I went to get gum at a corner store. His name was Dan. He was old. His girlfriend had kicked him out and he was just walking around. He’d been in prison for a lot of his life. We had a good chat. I got his phone number and now we have each other on Facebook. 

• In the airport on the way home, Matt and I were so overtired that absolutely everything was hilarious. The gif game (the gif of Kevin from The Office dropping the bucket of chili. “Me in Thailand”), and the beginning of when I got let in to the “KEVIN!!!!” joke. I had tears in my eyes. 

• Connor yelled at me in a pizza restauraunt LOL (sorry Connor. I know you Ctrl+F your name. But this was memorable to me.) 

In the middle of April, I FINISHED MY PRACTICUM HOURS AND EFFECTIVELY GOT MY DEGREE. I cannot describe to you how good it felt to be driving home from one of those tax clinics after my third twelve-hour day (making up practicum hours is fun) knowing I never had to go back. Knowing that soon enough, I’d get to work on all the same cool projects but actually get paid for my time.

We visited Saskatoon for Easter, which would turn out to be the last time I got to see my Baba. She was very ill, and both of us knew that it would likely be the last time, so I did get to say my goodbyes. It was very difficult and I sobbed for a lot of the ride home. It’s a weird feeling, when someone you love has been so ill for so long, and you begin to see their condition really deteriorate. When the idea of life without that person starts to become a reality. There was almost an… acceptance? It sounds so callous to say and it’s way more complex than this but also somewhat of a relief in the finality of it. I don’t know. It was a lot. 

April was also when I started interviewing for social work jobs. I had two interviews. The first one was at CCASA, essentially for what I thought was my dream job. I have never psyched myself out so hard for anything in my life. I thought about that interview and that interview alone for weeks. I studied harder than I have for any test ever. When the time came for the interview, I was so nervous. I became this meek and mild version of myself. It was honestly devastating. But of course, had I gotten that job, I would never have interviewed at the University of Calgary. My boss-to-be called me for a pre-interview while I was on shift at Famoso. It was busy, too. But I just said fuck it and ducked into the back and talked to her on the phone for twenty minutes. She invited me for an interview a week later where I had to give a five-minute presentation on managing stress as a student. Rock on. 

May 

On May 1, I got offered THE JOB AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY! It was truly one of the happiest moments of my life. There is nothing more satisfying and exciting than actually attaining something you’ve been dreaming of for so long. It was for a one year contract on a maternity leave coverage, facilitating community trainings around suicide prevention, helping skills, all that good stuff. I was going to be on salary. I was going to have benefits. I WAS GOING TO BE ABLE TO WALK TO WORK AND HAVE A REAL CAREER THAT I WOULD BE PROUD OF AND EXCITED ABOUT.

I hung up the phone after accepting the job, texted all the requisite people about the good news, and then immediately drove to Famoso to quit. My boss at Famoso was angry with me because I did not give two weeks notice. I said I would work out the rest of my scheduled shifts. He was a jerk, he yelled at me in frustration saying, “You work here for five fucking years, we accommodate every trip, every vacation, every practicum and you don’t even have the courtesy to give me two weeks notice?!” It wasn’t a big deal though. He was just being an asshole. And hey, Steve, you’re still an asshole!

So my last day serving tables at Famoso Westhills was May 3, 2019. I’m usually not good with goodbyes but it was the easiest thing in the world to just walk out of there at the end of the night knowing I would never be back. I had ten days until I started my actual job at the University (a bit of an oversight on my part because I had ~no money~ so what the fuck was I going to do with ten days).

My grandmother passed away on May 19, 2019. Back to Saskatoon on May 28 for the funeral. It was really fucking sad and really fucking weird to see all of my cousins crying. My grandma also had a big Catholic funeral and none of us are particularly religious and as the direct relatives of the deceased we were at the front of the church and it was really obvious none of us had any idea when to kneel vs. stand and didn’t know any of the words or tunes to the songs.

On a happier note, my brother was accepted into medical school in May. Not that I ever doubted my brother would be a successful person, but this just really solidified it. Dr. MacKay.

June 

June was rather uneventful. I was honestly so cripplingly broke at this point, and it was so long before I actually saw a full salaried paycheck. I had to borrow money from my parents just to like, function. And pay my bills. It was embarrassing. But I was working full time and learning so many cool things about the job that it made it alright.

I walked the stage on the first week of June and accepted my BSW degree. I didn’t want to go but it was actually a pretty awesome and happy occasion.

The other big thing that happened in June is that Maddy moved to Australia. It sucks that I only met Maddy in the summer of 2018. She is so awesome and we became so close so quickly. I genuinely love her so much and spending time with her is so easy and fun, it was really sad when she left knowing that it was highly possible she may never return or at least not for several YEARS.

July 

By July, my new job was in full swing. I was facilitating trainings every other day (so much public speaking experience!), I was sitting on a committee, every day was new and challenging and exciting. 

My dad had a giant party for his 60th birthday, with some friends even coming from Saskatoon. They rented a limousine that took us to the Black Diamond hotel because apparently my parents have some kind of significance there. I did a shot with my grandfather? We played pool and Big Buck hunter? None of my friends came but all of my brother’s friends came and I honestly think that it turned the tables in terms of who my parents’ favourites are in terms of friends. 

I also had an awesome weekend at Folk Festival mostly with Kendal and Lachlan but also featuring guest appearances from Chad and Gillian. Podcast club pals. There is just nothing better than folk festival, honestly. Food trucks and music in the sun and drinking sangria from a flask and admiring everyone’s cool outfits and getting a tan and listening to concerts all day. I had a nap in the middle of the afternoon on Sunday and it was like the most glorious 45 minutes of my entire year. 

August 

Oh, no. August. I was still cripplingly broke (it takes a long time to catch up to a point where your entire paycheck is not just going to paying back things you’ve borrowed) and I made the utterly stupid decision to go to a music festival. 

Big Valley Jamboree, baby. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the best weekend that I am never ever doing again. Some highlights: 

• Mere minutes after arriving, I watched a man vomit. 

• The “Tony Keith” joke really took off. Lucas and I were so #inone on the Friday night we kept yelling and trying to start chants (“old man graphics!” is my personal favourite in response to Toby Keith’s random, pro-military Americana concert graphics).

• I gave my phone to somebody and then wandered off in search of this stupid boy’s campsite. I got very, very lost. The BVJ campground is a large place. I had no idea where I was going and was literally just stumbling through the dark and the mud. I ended up in the middle of some middle-aged Newfoundlanders’ campsite. They welcomed me. They offered me and sandwich and several beers. We chatted for like an hour. It was the best. I walked for SO LONG and finally found my own campsite. But we’re talking literally hours of walking around blind and disoriented. There were a few moments when I genuinely thought I was going to have to wait until the sun came up. 

• A few less-than-classy moments in porta potties. 

• The HANGOVERS. Jesus lord. I couldn’t survive. 

• Airwaves guy was great and I also had a really good buffalo chicken poutine thing that I remember fondly. 

In happier and much more professional news, I facilitated my first Community Helpers training in August. I was very nervous. Like, stay up all night the night before nervous. And we had some technical difficulties with setting up. But my coworker / work BFF Jeannie was there and she was a great support to me. She ran and got me a coffee and a banana bread because I hadn’t eaten and was so so stressed. And she encouraged me through the whole thing. It went really really well. I almost choked up at the end while thanking the participants for coming and explaining how it was my first training and they were such a great group to do it with. 

The squad was all super broke so we turned to free activities. It was very wholesome. We spent many afternoons and evenings reading in Prince’s Island Park with snacks. We went to Shakespeare in the park. We went hiking. 

A lot of my friends moved away in August. Such is life when your friends are all academics or have bright futures that are not confined to the Calgary city limits. Sydney moved to Victoria to start her PhD and we had a nice day at Elbow Falls eating berries and then having dinner with my family. Adam and Kendal both moved to Ottawa to start a fancy new government job and an MSW degree, respectively. I am really really proud of all of my friends but I miss them, too. Calgary is not the same without these people. 

On the flip side – a new roommate moved in! Maddie left to move to Red Deer to be with Joel and so our new roommate was a French exchange student named Aurore. She arrived and was shocked to see that none of the advertised furniture was in her room except for one limp mattress. Karla and I hadn’t even known she was coming because my landlord sucks, but we helped her get her things together and then ordered her some Skip the Dishes. She was exhausted. And sweet. And was starting a block week MBA class the next day in her second language. I felt for her. 

September 

In September, the inklings of me moving into a different role at the university were planted. My boss called me in to her office one afternoon and shut the door. I was terrified but she said to me, “you’re not in trouble. Actually, just the opposite.” She brought up the recent vacancies in the job I now hold (lol: spoilers) and said, “Just think about it. I just want you to know that there would be no hard feelings if you chose to apply for the role.” I was flattered but also caught off guard. I did not think I was qualified for the job. I had virtually no client experience in either of my practicums. I wasn’t even registered with the ACSW at this point. And I loved my old job and my health promotion coworkers so so much. But also… I was on a twelve month contract. And the person away on leave was definitely coming back. I was “strongly encouraged” to get registered with the college. 

It was honestly such a mess. They gently nudged me towards applying for the role, I was torn. Then they told me it probably wouldn’t work because I wasn’t yet registered with the ACSW, and even if I did register would still only be provisional. I felt an odd sense of relief at that, and had totally psyched myself out of being able to do the job at that point. At the last minute, I was told “just submit an application to keep our options open.” I did so. I got an interview. I interviewed (and it was SO fucking stressful…. Interviewing with people you already work with is 10x worse than interviewing with strangers. I tell ya.). And… I got the job!!! Not only did I get the job, I got a full-time, permanent contract (there were two positions, one full-time and one on a longer contract. I was told from the beginning I would just be applying for the longer contract but I ended up getting the FULL TIME ONE.) It was a HUGE boost to my confidence and again, one of the happiest days of the year.  

September was also just absolutely insane for work. So many orientation presentations, students reaching out wanting to get involved, starting all of the volunteer programs, planning. I was so, so, so SO FREAKING TIRED. But we did lots of fun things. Like we took Aurore and her friend Cecile to Banff, had them try Caesers and Beaver Tails and all kinds of Canadian things. 

October 

On my last day in my old role, my coworkers decorated my desk with a homemade banner and got me desserts. We went to McDonald’s for a feast and sat in the Hub and made jokes. It felt really special and I was really touched. 

On October 7, I started my new-but-also-kind-of-the-same job. I was very nervous and there was a lot to learn right from the get go. And it was so… strange. I HAD MY OWN OFFICE. WITH MY NAME ON THE DOOR AND EVERYTHING. The imposter syndrome hit me like a tsunami. I was extremely stressed, extremely overwhelmed. But my teammates and my boss are great. They understand I’m new not just to the role but to the field. They were (and are) so kind and patient with me and answer all of my questions. 

For Thanksgiving, we went to Banff. We had beers and did a little bowling at High Rollers and then went to the Rimrock for dinner. It was very nice. A few weeks later, I hosted my own friendsgiving dinner and roasted a turkey! And spent all day decorating my parents’ house and the table to look fancy. Everything turned out really really well. I was super stoked. Note to self: throw more dinner parties. 

November: 

What I recall from November is just… stress. The case management / social worker life came at me real hard, real fast. I had to call CFS for the first time. My client did not want me to. It was hard. I did not cope well. My coping strategy was to fuck off to Lake Louise (?) for a weekend in a hostel and drink two bottles of wine with some random sorority girls from Chicago. And tears.

The cooking phase was in full swing at this point. Eggs benedict, soft pretzels, curry, French onion soup, gnocchi, prosciutto apple blue cheese chicken, apple and chai galettes.

The third week of November was also when I decided to start training for the half marathon. I found a plan online and set out to follow it and honestly, it’s been great. I usually don’t stick to exercise routines for longer than a month because I tend to go too hard, too fast and I overdo it and I let one hungover day derail me. But this plan wasn’t focused on distance but rather time spent running. So rather than, “I have to run 5km” today it’s, “I have to run for 45 minutes today.” I thought I’d hate that but I actually really like it. It encourages me to go a little slower and just run out the clock, at whatever pace. And the speed is building gradually, and naturally.

December: 

Aaaand December!

December has been so much marathon training. Today, I am entering my seventh week of consistent running and exercise. That is a badass accomplishment for me. I am very pleased. I even managed to do my runs in Saskatoon on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Aurore left back to Paris. She had a birthday party at the house with all of her international friends and we went for sushi and looked at Christmas lights in the rich people neighborhoods before she returned home. She ended up being so wonderful. I will miss her.

I went to Radium for a weekend with Kennedy, Matt, Amanda, and their friend Katie. The takeaways from this experience are: I am excited to get to spend more time with Kennedy and Amanda and to become better friends with them, I think I like smoking weed now, and skiing is the best.

2020: 

To be completely honest, my life is pretty good. I sometimes wish I had somebody to share it with, and that’s something I hope to be a little better about in 2020 is putting myself out there in more of a meaningful way. 

I also am super excited to continue down this path with my career and to develop personally and professionally as a social worker. There is truly so much to learn and I’m really motivated and excited right now to do well at this which is an awesome feeling. I do need to work on not taking my work home with me so much, about separating the social work life from the personal life. Setting boundaries and all that good stuff. 

I’m hopefully going to run my first half marathon in 2020. May 31. The countdown is on. Excited to cross that item off the bucket list and experience the rush of crossing the finish line! That endorphin high is going to be insane. 

And I want to keep developing my cooking skills. Though they may be small, they are mighty. I want to try and learn how to make fresh pasta dough. LOL. Simple goals. 

Anyways... thank you 2019 for all you have brought me and taught me. I am grateful for the life I get to the live and the experiences I get to have. And I’m super stoked to see where 2020 takes me. 

<3 

[loghainmactir]

hewwo! i was wondering if u could pls give me some advice on starting my transition? ive been so scared to start bc of family and costs but ive decided to just. do it. yknow? like if i don't ill probably die lol. u look amazing and rly confident in yourself in all ur selfies and one day i wanna be Like That ✌️❤️

hi! ok, so first of all: yeah, i absolutely can give u advice, and second of all: i remember feeling exactly like you did. it literally wasn’t that long ago, either, it was like. 2013/14/15 (i can’t remember, time is fake, whatever lmao!). third of all: bless u yr so sweet. i still have a lotta issues with confidence (i doubt myself, my talent and what i can do literally hourly), but honestly? i love my body right now. it’s a good, genderless body, goddamnit.

long, long post ahead bc i’m trying to think of things i did and good god please take it with a grain of salt because a lot of this is just me ranting about things i wish I’D done in my own position. i’m also coming from a place where HRT and surgeries AREN’T free, so that’s also A Thing. everyone’s experience is different.

transitioning (particularly medically) really super fuckin varies country by country (and honestly probably even state by state, age by age and fuckin gender by gender because cis people won’t let us fucking BE goddamn): i don’t know where you are, so my only tips there r: find a trans friendly doctor/endo (i was kinda forced to go through a hospital bc That Was How It Was here in good ol’ Australia), and one people wholeheartedly recommend, if you wanna go that route.

my first point is make sure you find safe spaces in every goddamn aspect of your transition. medically, socially, physically. if you think your doctor is refusing you treatment or is discriminating against you, you NEED to ditch that doctor. if your friends and family are really verbally or physically violent against LGBT folks, you NEED to leave that space if you can (or not come out and wait until you can leave. seriously. i’m kinda lucky– my grandma was verbally violent against LGBT folks, and initially my mum was skepitcal, but i convinced them both to go to a group for LGBT+ parents and friends and they slowly turned around). get yourself friends, get yourself allies.

i cannot stress that enough. my first doctor refused to send my referral letter to the royal children’s hospital gender clinic because even tho he presented as a “nice” guy, he believed that because this was “”””out of the blue”””” for me, he figured he’d just Not Send It (and tried to tell me that a lotta kids there didn’t actually helpo, lol). so there i was, a young 15-16 year old alister, waiting like 2-3 months for something that didn’t even get fucking sent.

join trans groups on facebook and in real life. seriously, they’re a godsend; there’s buy-and-sells, advice posts, encouragement posts. ESPECIALLY local ones. most of them on facebook are private, meaning no one can see if you’re posting/in the group, and it’s easy to check if they’re not. these fb pages + local groups are good ways to find trans friendly spaces and doctors. i found my current doctor, who’s actually one of the very few doctors who knows what the fuck he’s on about re: trans people, through a real life trans group. they were like “oh, you should see x”, and even though he’s about 30-40 minutes away from me, he’s brilliant and honestly saved my life.

along those lines: figure out what you want from your transition, and then realize & accept that this may change (and it also may not change!). very early on, i was super insistent that i wanted phalloplasty and to wear packers, and now i couldn’t care less. at first, i identified as agender, and then as a trans guy/ftm, and now i identify as a Black Hole (i’m kidding, don’t @ me). like, a lotta people DON’T change their minds. but i did, some people do, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own what you want to do with your body 

(sidenote: this also goes for detransitioning or stopping medical transition but continuing to socially transition/present differently. literally, it’s fine. it’s your body. fuck anyone who says otherwise.)

again: FUCK ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE.

your body is literally your body. do NOT let anyone tell you what to do with it or who you are. i had people very early on scream at me (legitimately scream and throw me out of home, thanks grandma), tell me i wasn’t actually trans, and harrass me for this shit: but frankly, if i’d put myself back in the closet, i wouldn’t be alive right now. i would’ve killed myself years ago, and i wish i wasn’t kidding. if it’s safe, you need to stand up for your own body and your rights and put yourself somewhere that will allow you to follow through. you need to keep going and keep living.

my only other two pieces of advice are “patience, baby”– like, for real, every single part of transition takes time. this varies from where you are and who’s supporting you, but it’s generally true. it takes time for people to accept new names and pronouns 

(lotta people get furious about this, and i used to be one of those people, but hindsight’s a bitch and you gotta realize that… like, it’s hard for some cis people. you gotta give them a little bit of wiggle room, especially if they’ve never ever met a trans person before. it’s about reminders, reminders, reminders: which is SO hard if you’re not safe/don’t have the confidence. there IS a flip side to this though: if chad and stacey have known your new pronouns for months, now, and they keep “””slipping””” up, they’re not slipping up, honey. they’re doing it on purpose. kick their teeth in i’m kidding please don’t do this you know what i mean.)

it takes time for HRT to kick in. it takes time to gather a Look™ of your own you like, it takes time to build confidence to even tell people, it takes time to save up money for surgeries and it just… takes time. sometimes because it’s a naturally slow process, sometimes because cis people are Cis People and like to gatekeep. i remember being very young in my transition, sitting in the car after one of my appointments with the afformentioned shithead doctor bawling my eyes out because he’d told me i wouldn’t be able to access t for x amount of time and it was bullshit. this year i’ll be 2 years on t. wild, huh? there’s a lot of us and not equal amounts of resources (ESPECIALLY in public systems) depending on where you are, so you gotta be prepared to WAIT.

i’ll tell you what super helped me through those years: hyping myself up for other things! i still have the ticket from my first twenty one pilots show. that show meant SO much to me. i cried all through it, because waiting for that show kept my mind off of the wait for my royal children’s appointments (and even waiting to go up to melbourne bc my mum and i would go and get kebabs was a good thing to focus on!). keep things that aren’t trans related on hand (seriously i struggled with this because dysphoria and shit is fucking hard!! it’s easy to say but really fucking hard to put into practice).

(one day i’m gonna tell tyler and josh just how much they saved my goddamn life. i know they hear it weekly, but i will.)

my other thing is that uh. it won’t solve all your problems especially if you’ve got mental illnesses. this is a really fuckin depressing thing i had to drill into my brain, but it really helped. transitioning solved SO many of my issues. i no longer have back issues (thanks, like, literal kilo titties, lmao), i no longer have sore ribs and i can breathe and wear shirts. i lost so much weight (and am kinda gaining it back, but whatever). i no longer have anxiety about whether people can tell i’m binding– which is WILD because i used to stress the fuck out about it to the point where i never went out anywhere. i used to sit on the bus wondering if the person next to me could tell i had titties. now it literally doesn’t even register.

my issues now stem from PTSD, depression, BPD and ADHD. how do you fix this? you don’t. but what HAS helped is finding a therapist who won’t pressure you into talking about trans shit. lemme tell you: this shit gets exhausting after the fifth time of “oh i googled ‘can you become a boy’ when i was, like, nine” (this is my go to story because this memory is so vivid). of course, there’s gonna be moments where you HAVE to: my therapist recently actively asked me to briefly run through it for my PTSD report. but otherwise we literally haven’t talked about it and that is a GODSEND (because i don’t need it. if you need it, that’s good, too!). having a therapist that you can just wordvomit at wrt anything is literally the best thing and can be super helpful– seriously, there were a few trans-related sessions where i just snarled about the bullshit gatekeeping and the bastard i had to see for my therapist letter (oooh, every time i think abt the fact that it was something like $400-500 for two fucking sessions i get so mad lol), but outta 14 it’s really only like 2-3 of them.

but yeah. that’s it. i dunno, these are things that i’ve learnt and sorta… like to think as helpful for myself. of course, this could be different for you: you’re not me, you’re entirely different, in no doubt an entirely different country, social, financial, mental state. i was FUCKED UP when i first came out. i didn’t know that then, but i do now. i spent a lotta time by myself and that’s not healthy, so i really encourage you to reach out to our community, local and worldly, because oh my god, we’re here for you. we are SO here for you.

[aprillikesthings]

Family shit ahoy 

After getting tired of seeing the notifications from a group chat pop up (lolol I just love how I like, take myself out of a group page my dad made for family stuff, so my dad adds me to a group chat instead), I got around to blocking my mom, my dad’s girlfriend (I already had my dad blocked), and opened the group chat just long enough to remove myself without reading any of the messages. 

Tempted to message my brothers (and SIL’s) to flat-out tell them “yeah I’m not talking to mom and dad right now, I don’t want any info about them, I don’t want you telling them anything about me.” 

The funny thing is that I know for a fact my parents won’t bother to, I dunno, actually attempt to text me or call me with an actual phone. Because they never fucking did. I’ll never forget the time I found out my dad had been in the ER (he thought he was having a heart attack, turns out it was just anxiety) because he’d posted to facebook to tell his ballroom dancing friends; or the time I only found out my mom had had major surgery months later, casually dropped in conversation about something else. 

(lol I remember a conversation years ago where my dad was like “you should call more often,” and I pointed out “the phone goes both ways? you can always call me???” and he was like “yeah good point.” It didn’t change shit but at least he stopped asking me to call more.)

Going to his girlfriend’s page to block her was weird. She’s Pagan and involved with groups I recognize. I’m fairly sure we actually met back when I was active in local Pagan/Wiccan stuff. I’d probably like her if we hung out. But I keep wondering what version of things she’s getting from my parents. I kinda doubt he’s told her that one of his messages to me included both “well my mom abused me” followed in the same fucking message with an acknowledgement that he beat and abused me all through my school years for things related to my ADHD but that if I’m too anxious about school to go back now that’s still my fault because I should be over it. I wish I was joking.)

Not having messages pop up from that fucking group chat in my notifications will be a relief. I was sketchy about it already and then I realized dad’s gf was in it and then I was like “yeah no, fuck this.” 

But now I’m kind of a fucking mess and I know I need to go to the store anyway. I was hoping to write tonight or get some shit done but I think I’ll manage like one load of laundry and a stop at the store for a few groceries and then I kinda want to do edibles and just lie around in bed watching Hyori’s Homestay or something. God. (Either that or I’ll hyperfocus on the writing, lol.)