#kookie! you dork!

[jmdbjk]

Bangtan weekly report.

On the Street on first listen/MV watch did not make me warm and fuzzy. It was melancholy, it made me sad. 

Watching it again and again, some of the imagery is hard to interpret, like the small sidewalk memorial off to the side with the yellow and white flowers. 

But some of the other imagery was definitely obvious. The child representing Army (again). The location: Bowery Station. 

The MV was not as dancey as I thought it would be. But since the moment I learned that J. Cole would be part of this I knew this was one of those full circle moments for Hobi. 

He preceded the premiere of the MV with a Weverse live on the banks of the Han River in Seoul. Walking around in public doing a live... we’ve come a long way people... I bet there was at least one security guy hovering out of the shot... hiding in the tall grass... somewhere nearby. 

Other developments this past week:

When I said “Instagram is going to go silent for a while unless JK wipes his feed again” I didn’t mean wipe it and then delete it, you big dork!!!! Be furrrrrrreallllll.

The estimated “value” of JK’s instagram followers was $50 million USD. All those potential partnership companies gagged and choked.

Jungkook informed fans of his withdrawal from Instagram which had as many followers as South Korea's total population: 52.4 million. It was estimated the value of one posting for Jungkook would have exceeded 1 billion won or almost $766,000 USD. His account value would have been in the tens of billions of won.

Okay, Kookie... just keep doing you. I love you anyway.

In other news (unfortunately):

So, if the Korail employee knows private information such as addresses and such (scary and mind-boggling)... Namjoon would have no choice but to reveal information before anyone else has a chance to do it and incur any more damage to his reputation or compromise the information for anyone he knows if that’s the type of info they had access to. In other words, don’t be surprised when Namjoon reveals personal info before anyone else has a chance to do it.

I hope it is plain to see why Jimin doesn’t even let us know what color his walls are or to understand why Jungkook may have left Instagram. There is too much chance of anyone figuring out information just from being able to identify objects and things in photos. Who knows what other private info of theirs is already breached and in the hands of nefarious people.

It is so concerning to me that I even question when Jungkook gives us details about the amenities at Bam’s new training place. DON���T TELL US!

The Tiffany & Co. ambassadorship... and the dollars keep rolling in for our precious little 21st Century Pop Icon who is just our goofy friend in sweatpants who loves soju. 

We all noticed Jimin seemed to be “naked” when he attended the Dior menswear show back in January. When I say naked, I mean he wasn’t wearing a single piece of jewelry. We know this man loves him some bangly bangles and dangly earrings and spangly necklaces. He never goes anywhere without his signature hoop earrings on so we all felt something was missing.

And now we know he had this Tiffany deal up his sleeve. Seems like he was cleansing himself of jewelry. Starting fresh by being jewelry free in front of millions of eyes just so he could follow up with a jewelry refresh. Jimin will have Tiffany’s classic and polished pieces flying out of jewelry stores. Get ready for the Jimin effect. I hope they manufactured enough to satisfy demand. I can’t wait for the knock-offs so I can afford to wear a few look-alikes. 

Busan Expo update video. Filmed last October or November?

Inside Mang made me tear up. Their little virtual Mang interacting with Hobi was the sweetest thing. We will get a “real” Mang reveal soon!! Everything Hobi does is so well thought out. His attention to detail is astounding. I suppose Mang might serve a similar role that Wootteo did for Jin... (weeps). 

And Jimin on Insta and Weverse trying to catch up on the member’s content HE IS JUST LIKE ME! I CAN’T KEEP UP WITH ALL THE CONTENT EITHER, JIMIN!!! 

Jimin is about to slap us in the face with FACE... hold on to your asses we’re about to go for a ride on the Jimin freight train soon. 

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #48 - Stress Relief]

"When Jungkook is there for you in stressful times."

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: she is stressed :') bless her, he is the cutest hubby ever, i want what she has tbfh, he is also such a funny dork PLEASE

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: i wanna be her hfdshf i am :( big sad :( i miss Kookie so much :(

Jungkook lifts his head, following you with his eyes. This is the second time you let out a loud sigh. He stays silent for now, feeling out the situation. 

You walk past him, heading straight to the kitchen without paying him any mind. You stay there a little under a minute then come back. 

Another sigh. 

Jungkook furrows his brows and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you are already gone again. Out of the living room and down the hallway. 

He pauses his show and leaves the couch, looking for you.

One loud sigh is nothing, two might be a coincidence, but three? Three are a pattern. Mix it with you basically being blind to his presence and something is taking up your mind. Jungkook can’t relax when he knows that you are burdened by something. 

The door to the cellar is open, the lights are on. Jungkook jogs down the stairs, following the trail of lights you left on. He ends up in the laundry room, but even that is empty. The washing machine is half emptied, the dryer half-filled. Abandoning a load of laundry is not like you at all. Jungkook grows worried. Something must really upset you.

A fourth loud sigh and the dragging of your slippers lets him know that you are coming back. 

“Ah!” you startle, stumbling back with such vigour that you almost trip.

“Careful”, he gasps, catching you with two strong hands on your hips, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

“Why are you here? You can’t just appear without warning”, you snap at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that I’d scare you”, he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You accept it half-heartedly because then you are already out of his gentle hold to hurry to the washer.

“It’s fine”, you dismiss him, working hastily to unload and load the laundry. You sigh again as you do it.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“You don’t sound good.”

“No, I’m good”, you assure him and finally start the dryer. You pick up a stack of magazines and hurry past him to the stairs. 

Jungkook follows you. You are basically running. This isn’t like you at all. Every movement you make is quick and hastily, you seem to do two tasks at once all the time and you barely want to catch your breath. 

Upstairs, you abandon the magazines to pick up some of Bam’s toys, only to drop them halfway to their basket because you remember the magazines and hurry back to them. 

Jungkook catches you in the middle of it, resting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs circles on your clothed skin, looking at you in a mixture of worry and seriousness.

“Slow down for a moment”, he tells you.

You gawk at him.

“Breathe”, he says, caressing your cheeks softly, “just take a deep breath with me.”

You breathe with him. Breathe again. And a third time. By the fourth deep breath, you let your shoulders sag. Jungkook rubs them instantly, looking at you with adoring yet worried eyes.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asks.

“I’m so stressed”, you finally confess, “I have so much to do and it’s not getting any less.”

Jungkook listens to you intently, never breaking eye contact so you really feel heard. He also hums and nods his head to really assure you that you are listened to. 

“If I think about all the stuff I have to do at the restaurant tomorrow I might cry, then I have all the things still on the fridge list I need to do and there’s already so much more I need to add to the list. I forgot to do laundry and I need to clean Bam’s toys and plan tomorrow’s dinner and I haven’t even had a snack yet and I need to pee and-” you stop yourself having to fight for air shakily.

“Hey my baby, it’s okay”, Jungkook tells you and hugs you against his chest, rubbing the back of your head gently, “I’m here now.”

“I wanna cry. I have so much to do, but I’m so exhausted”, you mumble into him, feeling too tired to hug him back even if you really wanted to. He smells so good. Like home and comfort.

“God baby, I understand. I’m so sorry you feel this way. I can help, you don’t have to do everything alone.”

“But…they’re my tasks. You have your own shit to get through.”

“Shut up, as if I’m not gonna wanna help when I see you struggling just ‘cause they’re your tasks. I don’t care, when my wifey needs a second pair of hands, I’ll be there.”

You snicker into his chest, finally finding the strength to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Wifey”, you repeat.

"Yeah, wifey. That’s you”, he squeezes you softly, “my wifey.”

You giggle. Jungkook smiles at the sound of it, rubbing your back aggressively but with care. 

“I can’t stand seeing you like this”, he says through gritted teeth, but with a playful tone. He is acting all aggressive right now to make you laugh and it really works. He is so gentle even when he is being rough that his cute antics really cheer you up. 

You put some distance between you and him so you could look at him.

“Thank you”, you say, cupping his cheeks, “you have no idea how much I need the help today.”

“Don’t even mention it, sweetie”, Jungkook assures you, kissing your forehead, “now, you’re gonna go pee and I’m gonna make you a snack. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal. Thank you, seriously.”

“Less talking, more peeing. Go, go”, he sends you away with a soft pat to your butt, making you laugh with it.

Jungkook soaks up the sound with a good feeling in his chest. Hearing your laugh instead of your tired sighs is the best change ever. Once you are out of sight, he turns and get to work. He’s got toys to store away and newspapers to sort through.

Bam’s toys are stored in the basket when you come back from the toilet, the magazines are gone as well. Seeing two of your endless tasks already done, really lifts a ton of weight from you. With your steps feeling easier, you make your way to the kitchen, hoping to find your husband.

Just as you had hoped, your cutie of a husband is in the kitchen, doing the finishing touches to your snack. He hasn’t heard you come in yet, back turned to the door.

You back hug him. Jungkook turns in your arms instantly, hugging you against him without using his hands. They are dirty from cooking. Instead, he uses his wrists to rub your back.

“Hey there, sweetie.”

“Hey pookie”, you mumble into him and let out a deep breath. It was filled with relief.

“Did you have a good pee?” he asks, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it felt so freeing.”

“That’s good to hear. You shouldn’t hold it in, it’s bad for you.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t wanna make time today.”

“I get you, I’m sorry my sweetie.”

“Mhm, thankies. What are you making?”

“Apple with peanut butter and crackers with spicy tuna. You need the healthy fats and energy.”

“I really do. The snacks sound so good.”

“They’re almost done. Sit down, I’ll bring them to you.”

You wait on the couch, staring at the scene Jungkook paused his show at. You don’t actually take anything in, however. You are completely and utterly zoned out. Now that Jungkook made you slow down for your own sake, your body is finally starting to give up on you. You feel so tired. Working a ten hour shift and then spending four hours at home doing too many chores is finally paying its tribute. You are so exhausted that even focusing your eyes feels like too much work. 

“There you go, sweetie. The snacks”, Jungkook soon joins you, placing the snacks on the coffee table. He pulls it closer to you so you wouldn’t have to get up, then places himself behind you. 

He massages your shoulders and neck, including your head as well. 

“Wow, this is so good”, you gush, closing your eyes. You rest your head against his stomach, relaxing your muscles. 

“Anything where it hurts the most?” 

“My right shoulder. It gives me a headache, it’s so bad that I hear ringing in my ear.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Does that help?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Of course, anything you need. You know, I’ve been thinking and Imma make pizza tomorrow.”

“But-”, you try to look back at him, but he stops you with a gentle nudge.

“No buts, you are struggling with dinner planning and I wanna help. You’ll just cook dinner this weekend. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. So pizza it is?”

“Yeah and the snacks are so good too”, you sniffle, “it’s so good.”

“I’m happy to hear that, my sweetie. Eat as much as you want to.”

You go to bed feeling a lot less on edge, but still with too much stress in your body to make you uneasy. You can’t fall asleep because there are still a million things running through your head. You keep repeating what you need to do, what you should have done with the occasional question in between about whether you had done something. 

Jungkook is currently coming out of the bathroom, giving you a sweet smile. 

“You’re looking cozy.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?” he gasps, increasing his steps to get to you quicker.

“I still feel stressed, there is so much pressure in my chest. I want something heavy to push it out of me, seriously.”

“Mhm, that’s not good then”, Jungkook says and drags you to the middle of the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Attention!” he says sternly.

“What are you doing?” you repeat yourself in a chuckle.

“Weighted blanket mode activated!” he says and stretches his arms out so he could blob onto your chest.

“Koo”, you squeal, shielding yourself but the impact never comes.

He catches himself before he can really crash down, lowering himself the last few inches gently. He lies horizontal to your chin and with his tummy on your chest, letting some of his weight rest on you.

“Oh god, you dork”, you laugh, throwing your arms over his waist.

“Is this helping?” he mumbles into the sheets.

“More.”

“Understood. Heavy blanket mode activation in three, two, one”, he speaks in a funny almost trill sergeant like voice and relaxes completely.

He forces a deep breath out of you this way, a sound follows as well. It carried so much relief in it.

You close your eyes. The pressure finally stops. He is so heavy on your chest and it finally feels as if you can handle all the stress thrown at you. He is truly the best weighted blanket ever.

“Better?” he asks, glancing at you through his bangs.

“Yeah”, you sigh and sniffle, “Koo, I’m gonna cry. You treat me so well.”

“Course I do. You’re my wifey and my sweetie. You can cry if you want to. It helps with stress sometimes.”

“I think I, I actually might”, you say and then start sobbing. Jungkook lets it happen, rubbing your arm so you wouldn’t feel alone. It upsets him to see you cry, but he knows that you need it right now. This isn’t a cry of sadness, this is a cry of emotional relief. Sometimes too much builds up and just needs to leave the body. His weight was finally the thing which made it happen, which allowed you to find the kind of relief your stressed little heart needed. He is just glad that he can be there for you as it happens and that you can lean on him. It also helps him feel less upset to feel you touch him innocently as you cry. It’s honestly a little cute to witness your hand give his buttocks repeated stress squeezes as you sob and sniffle. 

When those sniffles become more and more and the sobs less and less, he finally changes position to hug you, kissing the tears away.

“You’re so strong, my sweetie”, he speaks softly, “mhhhm I’m so proud of you, baby.” 

“Oh god, I feel so light again”, you say, snuggling into him, “thank you so much.”

“I’m just happy that I could help. God baby, tomorrow’s gonna be better I promise. You’ll get pizza for dinner and I can do the ironing ‘cause I only work half day. Tomorrow’s gonna be better, I promise.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

The best thing about your marriage is that you will always have each other’s back. He will give a hundred and ten when you can only give a weak ten. And in return, there are times where you will give a hundred and ten while he barely manages to get to a ten. Days like these exist, but the nice thing about them is that you won’t ever have to go through them alone. You have each other to rely on. You always will.

[lokavisi]

Y'all, Thor is so great. If you need just a solid buddy, he's your guy. We just shot the shit for a while tonight, and it was just lovely. He really gives a shit about us, about humanity. (I mean, protecting us is kinda his Thing™️, after all.) Having spent a little more time with him, I see why he and Loki share so many stories with one another. Neither of them is dumb or weak, but their respective strength and cunning pair really nicely when you wanna get up to some shit. Even if your partner in crime has a slightly different agenda than your own. Add Odin into the mix and you've truly got a sitcom on your hands. Earlier this week I was talking with Thor and Loki together, and Odin just showed up like, "Who the fuck was gonna tell me y'all were hanging out?" What a kooky fucking bunch. I love these dorks. 10/10, would hang out again. ❤️

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Wandee Goodday Episode 5

Such a delightful episode

Our leading men continues their charade as FWB/fake boyfriends. However, it is clear to everyone but these loveable dorks that they are already in a commitment relationship with all its perk and familiarity without the label. They play house together and introduce their loves one to their respective significant. And to top it off, we have Yak playing the supportive boyfriend to Dr Dee's quest in winning everyone's heart and their mom for the scholarship (truly adorable)

I suspect both parties are not willing to move out of their fake bf label because its safer for their heart to not be in a commitment relationship (especially because Dee had his heart broken terribly after being in a one-sided crush for 7 years while Yak finds it easier to set his sight on an unattainable goal)

Dr Ter continues to be repressed and while I'm not 100% sure myself, it does seems he is subtly using Dr Khwan for his own benefit. The poor dr genuinely seems to be a decent person but has a gigantic crush on Dr Ter and he utilises this fully.

Cher and Oyei remains adorable. Cher jealously is wonderful to see cause previous episodes favours heavily on Oyei being the more invested of the couple. But this episode shows Cher is just as possessive and in love with Oyei (also, how could anyone resists a pouting Fluke?)

Dr Kao is a gem and I adore him. Drake plays him marvelously. He is somehow kooky but genuine and truly the best friend (and sex therapist) our leading couple could ever hope for. The Sleepless Sleepwear ??? - such a hoot.

But my heart and soul in this episode goes to Dee's grandmother - such a wonderful, supportive mother figure to Dee and you could tell they have a strong bond. And in the words of our 6-foot babygirl boxer "Your grandma is seriously cool."

Can't wait for episode 6!

[starqueensthings]

Dork Love: Part One (of probably three because I can’t be tamed)

AO3 | Next Chapter

Summary: A scowling stranger brings a damaged riflescope into your store for repair and, always willing to defer responsibility for the sake of charity, you take on the challenge. When you return it to him, he brings along another… obstacle. An adorably goggled, bad-postured obstacle who seems as infatuated with your intelligence, as you are with his twinkly (magnified) eyes.

Pairing: GN!Reader x Tech (can also be read as ND!GN!Reader x ND!Tech if you squint)

POV/Rating/WC: 2nd, all readers welcome, 6355 Words.

A/N: This masquerades as a Crosshair fic at first, but I was insistent on writing something other than Medic!Reader for this one, and Tech is not the kind of man that develops intimacy quickly so it’s structured as a slow burn with a little more backstory. Extra thanks to @staycalmandhugaclone for beta reading this one… twice. She catches all my made up words (slajacked? embarriered? LOL) and makes my disjointed writing readable. LYSM ❤️

A heavy sigh, laden with guilt and culpability, left your lips at the sight of the impending workload behind your cash register. The teetering stack of acrylic trays, each holding the paid invoice of an order in need of processing, sat benignly on the counter, awaiting the moment that you would finally succumb to the gnaw of responsibility and turn your wandering attention to them. The smattering of plastic containers that you’d locked the door on without even a breath of anxiety, your overstimulated mind full of assurances that you’d gift them your undivided attention the following morning, had somehow mutated into a looming tower of things to do and the desperate desire to defer them again now consumed you.

The impeccant ring of the bell that hung above the door had thankfully silenced, and the void of its tinkling alarm saw a peaceful moment of respite and a fresh mug of caf wreathed by hands covered in dried lens polish and seemingly permanently stained with the ink of your trusty red lens pen.

In spite of the lingering exhaustion and the continuous ache in your feet, every complaint that threatened to spill from your tongue was swallowed and substituted with a quiet murmur of appreciation. Since you’d purchased the optical store from your uncle, you’d been blessed with an expanding clientele and an increasing revenue, though despite the economic growth, the inception of your ownership had been fraught with challenges. Your uncle was, and always had been, a kooky and eccentric old chap, and one that had stubbornly deferred his retirement from the industry for decades too long. His later, wizened years had seen him develop a peculiar and surreptitious habit of concealing his deteriorating mind with impugnable, makeshift repairs on his already ancient optical equipment. More troublesome than his DIY endeavours, however, was the recurrent burying of evidence, ensuring that his mounting financial hardship was conveniently camouflaged and ‘misplaced’ with the several hundred overdue invoices. Three consecutive years later, and thousands of credits funnelled regrettably yet optimistically into the pocket of an accountant, the metaphorical dumpster-fire that you purchased from your father’s zany older brother had finally turned profitable.

The storefront was auspiciously located on the uppermost level of Coruscant’s nefarious ‘Underworld’, meaning the demographics of your clientele was as diverse as the galaxy was. Politicians, concealing their bulging wallets beneath expertly-sewn and ornate robes, were some of your favourite customers to interact with, as years of experience in medical sales had seen you master the tactful art of disengaging lowball negotiations. Paradoxically, it was the impoverished customers making their way up from the callous clutches of the lower levels that posed your biggest challenge; their often heartbreaking stories of systemic neglect fueled the philanthropic flame that flickered deep in your gut. The inception of the war had enchained many in the shackles of financial hardship and desperation, and while pleading ignorance and naivety was the route that many Coruscanti citizens opted to take, the desire to temporarily close your shop and traverse the galaxy doing missionary work was becoming difficult to stifle.

Yet you were as logical as you were benevolent, and despite the constant pull towards a life of nomadic altruism, the fact remained that you had invested too many days and even more credits resurrecting this business to simply abandon it in its infancy.

The squeak of the rolling desk chair echoed around the quiescent room as you sat yourself down behind the computer, determined to use the hot caf in your hands as a catalyst to ignite the engines of motivation into life. The chrono on the wall ticked on, unaffected by the looming task list that you continued to abscond from; moments stretched to minutes, your hands poised and motionless over the keyboard, and the resolve to work kept simply evaporating, wafting into the air and vanishing faster than the steam from your mug.

‘Damnit, I forgot to water my plants this morning…’ Your eyes were affixed on a the pair of prescription swimming goggles nestled in the tray that you’d perched in front of you nearly twenty minutes ago, yet the mental image of your limp fig tree, neglected the decency of water for the second straight week, was all your unfocussed eyes could see. ‘But I should probably prune it before I water it… and if I’m going through the hassle of pruning it, I should probably repot it fi—’

The sudden jangling of the bell broke you from your listless stupor, sending a startled jerk through your shoulders and pulling your gaze upward to the figure stepping into your space. The detail of his appearance remained momentarily obscured, shrouded in the shadows cast by the bright sunlight pouring in the door behind him, though it was immediately apparent by the rigid armour that enveloped his tall frame that he was a soldier or mercenary of sorts.

“Hello,” you called to him, alerting him of your presence behind the counter, but his response to the greeting and the small smile you’d hitched onto your face, was nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement, his eyes narrowing slightly as they darted around the walls of your shop.

Curiosity tipped your head to one side, and you watched him with reserved intrigue as he neared the counter, his big, metallic boots thunking heavily on the wood floors with every step. The armament that adorned his figure was dark, and unlike anything you’d seen before. The clone troopers on Coruscant typically wore protective suits of white plastoid, and were conversationally quite warm and friendly, but this man’s presence, complete with a frown and a crosshair tattoo, issued none of those vibes.

“What can I do for you?” you probed, ignoring the protest of your aching feet as you stood and met him across the counter. He hastened to fold his arms over his chest, throwing into sharp relief the sniper pole extending proudly from his left shoulder bell.

“What do you know about scopes?” he asked you, the smoke that bathed his words raising the small hairs on the back of your neck.

“What kind of scopes?” you quizzed back to him, wrenching your eyes from the intimidating tool on his shoulder. “Oculars? Speculars?”

“Rifle.” In stark contrast to the way he carried himself— slithering and softly, as if he funneled every effort into not preventing his movements from making a sound, his reply was direct, curt, and impatient, and despite your best efforts to repress it, the contradiction pulled a small smirk onto your face.

“I should have known,” you answered apologetically, gesturing with a flick of your eyes towards the pole on his pauldron, and for the second time in as many minutes, he forewent a spoken response, instead flicking his eyebrows and letting the ghost of a laugh huff from his nose.

“I studied a decent amount,” you continued, bewilderment budding inside of you as the peculiar stranger reached around to a pouch on his belt and retracted a toothpick. “But we don’t sell them. We’re mainly a spectacle sho—”

“I’m not buying,” he interrupted with another impatient little shake of his head. “There’s something… off… with mine.”

The intentionally vague nature of his complaint prompted the arch of your left eyebrow to raise, and it was with genuine perplexity that you replied. “Off? In what way?”

The rhythmic dance of toothpick across scowling lips filled the silent space of his hesitation, and the shadow of scepticism flitted behind his eyes as he peered down his nose at you.

“It sounds idiotic,” he muttered through teeth clenched around his wooden pacifier, “But the visuals are being distorted… and it seems to be at random.”

Your brows furrowed against the continued ambiguity of his complaints, and though you would never voice it aloud, his grievance did sound somewhat idiotic and nonsensical. Intermittent distortion through a set of lenses was not a concept you had ever come across, as typically someone’s vision was either clear, or it wasn’t. His hesitation to provide the description now seemed warranted, and it was your turn to entertain a scowled moment of hesitancy as you fought to digest his undetailed explanation.

“I’m not following you,” you sighed, both coming up short on an explanation and growing increasingly wary of his man-of-few-words attitude. “Do you have it with you?”

He unfolded his arms from their knot across his chest, exposing a thin, black plastoid case previously invisible by the tight ensconce of his gloved hand. The rigid container looked vaguely familiar to you, though your mind barely had a moment to dawdle in potential recognition before he was deftly unlatching the closure on the lid and pulling the scope from its velvet bedding.

Eyes widening with wonder, you collected the tool from him, your outstretched hand instantly sagging under the unexpected weight of the equipment. Your exposure to military grade weapon accessories, and knowledge of the various optical tools available for combat was limited, but one did not have to be an expert in the field to know this was a highly sophisticated, and highly coveted tool.

“Sometimes I’ll line up a shot with no issue,” he divulged, his sharp eyes dissecting your movements as you rotated the scope delicately in your fingers. “Other times, the image of the target seems warped. But I haven’t been able to establish a pattern, and none of my brothers see anything wrong.”

“Hmm,” you acknowledged, concentration pulling your lips tightly to one side. “That’s definitely… odd… and it seems random? Intermittent?”

He offered nothing but a small grunt of confirmation, supervising your twiddling of the tool with unwarranted intensity as if poised to pounce should you dare to mishandle his prized possession, but curiosity had entirely banished your unease of his demeanour, and it was eagerly that you returned the ocular to your eye.

The Snellen chart, hung at eye level across the room and inscribed letters of varying sizes, became the recipient of your attention; while designed to measure how effectively one could see at a specific distance without their glasses on, it acted appropriately well as a makeshift visual barometer for your diagnostics. Though despite alternating eyes, rotating the scope both clockwise and counterclockwise, and shifting your position behind the counter to create a variance in lighting, you failed to see anything that was overtly distorted or warped. The notion that you may not be able to solve the stranger’s problem simply because you couldn’t see it to diagnose it, pulled a disappointed frown onto your lips, usurping the confident determination you’d felt only minutes previously.

Still, he watched you mercilessly, impatience and expectation etched into the every superficial crease on his forehead. It was only as you moved to the lower the scope, prepared to sadly explain that he’d have to try elsewhere, did your departing gaze finally catch a micro glimpse of the issue. The distortion was there… but barely, and his brothers’ failure to corroborate the issue became instantly validated.

“Interesting,” you mused under your breath, locking your gaze on the minutely warped quadrant of the chart and turning the scope slowly in your fingers. “I think I see what you’re talking about,” you continued quietly, your refusal to lose sight of the issue subconsciously keeping the tone of your voice hushed. “It… it doesn’t seem like an issue of direct clarity, so the integrity of the lens coating must be intact… and the reticle itself is orientated at the correct rotation, so that rules out the first focal plane…”

Your hushed diagnostic rambling trailed away to silence as a theory emerged to the forefront of your mind. Before his frowning lips could wrap themselves around a sardonic response, you lowered the equipment from your eye, gripped it tightly in your hand, and flung your arm aggressively downwards, a motion reminiscent of trying to force a small amount of ketchup through the opening of a large bottle. His posture straightened hastily, and his horrified expression on his lithe face combined with the sharp gasp that slapped his throat, had you momentarily fearful he might pluck the toothpick from its clamp between his teeth and toss it at you like a javelin.

“Kriff, be careful.” It was not a request but a demand, leaving his lips in a hiss that suited his demeanor much more than that curt impatience he’d emanated earlier. “That’s my favourite scope.”

His warning went ignored, a prideful self-satisfaction smothering the duress of his mistrust as you peered through the scope again and found the resolution you had expected. “Ha,” you cheered in a whisper, orienting yourself towards him again. “Look now. Tell me if it’s any different.” You held the weighty scope out to him and gestured to the chart across the room. Still tinged with the horror brought on by your seemingly impulsive disregard for his property, his scowl intensified, exacerbated by a budding sense of scrutiny, but despite his dubious disbelief, he took the tool from your extended palm and brought it to his tattooed eye.

The speed in which he ran the scope through his own set of visual diagnostics was nothing short of remarkable, and it was this behavior, not the hissed warnings of care that reinforced his attachment to the tool. “Hmm,” he eventually grunted, his expression now impassive. “Seems normal actually.”

Eager to share your theory, you shifted your weight to your elbows. “I’m thinking the second focal plane might have dislodged in the chamber somehow,” you advised him. “Is there quite a bit of recoil from your rifle?”

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, almost entirely banishing the tension in his brow and softening his expression to a nearly unidentifiable degree, and it was only barely that you contained the smile threatening to engulf your own features. “She’s got a bit of a kick,” he admitted slyly, flicking the toothpick noisily with the tip of his tongue. “But that’s not going to change. So what now?”

You sighed through your nose, gaze affixed on the piece of equipment clutched in his long fingers as a merciless tug-of-war erupted in your mind. It had been years since the opportunity to tinker with something as niche and unique as a long-range rifle scope had fallen into your hands, but the mountain of work already awaiting your attention was formidable, and could not be ethically delayed any longer.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you offered, sheer curiosity sending a right hook in the direction of your better judgement. “But I won’t be able to identify the root of the problem, or the solution, until I take it apart and run diagnostics on the individual pieces.”

His softened expression receded entirely, the soggy strip of wood in his teeth continuing to dance across now scowling lips as he cocked a dark eyebrow and glowered at you, but you matched the reemergence of mistrust with a neutral stare, drumming your nails lightly on the desk between you and watching the cogs of indecision turn behind his eyes. His top lip flattened slightly, tense with threats and warnings of caution that he longed to voice aloud, but he was as aware as he was cranky; his desperation for a solution seemingly outweighing his skepticism, and he restrained every admonishment lingering on his tongue.

“Like I said,” he snarled, refusing to soften the glare he was sending your way. “It’s my favourite scope.”

You swallowed against a mixture of disappointment and offense, embittered that this unnecessarily stern man had actively sought your help with his problem, but was too suspicious and wary to grant you the permission to fix it, despite having seemingly identified the root of the issue before his eyes. You hitched an ingenuine smile to your face and shrugged, perching yourself back on the seat of your squeaky desk chair and pulling the swimming goggles towards you. “It’s your choice,” you reminded him, rousing your slumbering monitor to life with the prod of your finger. “You can leave it and be no worse off… or I can take it apart and have a go at fixing it.”

Silence ensued in the following moment, a quiet broken only by the occasional click of wood against molar and the rhythmic tapping of your fingers on the keyboard, but despite his seemingly steadfast refusal to accept your offer, he didn’t move from his perch against the counter.

“Fine,” he grumbled, taking you by surprise and immediately stealing your attention back. “But I fly out at sunset, so I’ll need it back before then.”

“I can do that.” Thrilled by the valid excuse to delay ordering it (and its neglected comrades) for another few hours, you happily pushed the acrylic tray housing the goggles away from you and stood from your chair. “I close up shop before then anyways. Actually, there’s a shooting range about a block west of here. I can meet you there in a couple hours, and you can fire off a couple shots to see if my handiwork holds up.”

“Deal.” He stood up straight and plucked the strip of wood from his lips, flicking it to the floor at his feet without a second thought. “Name’s Crosshair.”

“Crosshair,” you repeated after offering your name in return, and with a gesture towards the tattoo around his eye you said: “Should have known.”

***

The sun that had so refreshingly bathed the planet that afternoon was readying itself for another night of slumber, sinking ever lower toward the horizon with each passing minute, and its void in the musty industrial building sent a shiver down your back.

A small alcove set into the wall, adorned with a smattering safety notices, acted as a landing zone for those entering and exiting the active firing lanes. An obnoxiously heavy, rolling durasteel door separated the two areas, and it was with an almost comical level of exertion that you managed to roll the door ajar just wide enough to squeeze through the gap. The audible rumble of the long-ago seized wheels was lost amongst the echoing din that bathed your ears in the room beyond; each of the two dozen lanes occupied by a duo of armed beings, jeering at each other over missed shots and poor grips.

If the sniper pole protruding menacingly from his shoulder wasn’t enough to make him easily distinguishable in the shadows opposite, then the stunning contrast of his silver hair and his dark armour certainly was, and it was with haste that you crossed the room toward his pacing position. The separation from his prized possession seemed to have rendered him, shockingly, more impatient than hours previously, the soggy toothpick between his frowning lips dancing ceaselessly while the thumb on each of his hands aggressively cracked the knuckles of its neighbouring fingers. But while his appearance and obvious restlessness had initially captured your attention, it did not hold it. Something else caught your eye… someone else.

A second man stood in close proximity to the sniper, almost identical in height though the stoop in his posture, brought on by the intent downwards gaze toward the device clutched in his hands, ensured a less imposing presence than his broad shouldered, glaring neighbour. He seemed at first glance, to be an extraordinary dichotomy to his companion, the perfect ying to Crosshair’s yang; where one’s hair shone brightly in the light of the buzzing fluorescent bulbs overhead, the other’s reflected the dark of shadowed corners, where one’s cuirass was deliberately painted dark, the other’s remained white, adorned with colour only minimally, and where Crosshair’s impatience was evident, with his sharp eyes darting mercilessly around the room, his companion seemed content to remain still, gaze affixed to the screen only inches from his nose.

‘Must be one of his brothers,’ you concluded as you approached the loitering duo.

Crosshair detected your arrival almost immediately; the intensity of his unrelenting gaze as you crossed the room to his position rendered your friendly “hello,” completely redundant. A double-take interrupted the greeting poised on your tongue for his companion, the unexpected allure of his features, thrown into relief by close proximity and the fleeting shift of his attention from the device in his hands to you, rendered you briefly inarticulate.

He continued to look remarkably different from his brother at second glance, with a squarer jaw, fuller lips, a more substantial frame (disguised by poor posture, a slight bow in his legs, and significantly less armour), and a set of dark goggles framing a pair of stunningly warm, brown eyes.

“Any luck?” Crosshair probed impatiently, opting to forgo niceties for the second time that day.

“Yeah, some,” you assuaged with a nod, tearing your gaze away from his brother. “My first assumptions were largely correct. The second focal plane must have dislodged in the scope’s housing at some point. Unless you knocked it pretty forcefully against something, a theory I can rule-out based on the otherwise pristine condition of the equipment, it was likely the extended period of repeated recoil that caused the dislocation.”

The large, goggled eyes had directed themselves to you again, this time almost urgently and paired with an abrupt jerk of his head in your direction. The jarring motion stole your attention mid-sentence, the recited explanation rolling off your tongue turning laggy and discombobulated under the intensity of his wide-eyed, astonished stare. Your eyebrows lifted slightly as you turned to face the slack jawed stranger, but no sooner did your gaze fall onto his blushing face, did he avert his focus from you again.

“Okay, and?” Crosshair asked, his probe prompting you to frantically try and find the lost train of thought from the previous second.

“Honestly,” you continued, redirecting your attention to the sniper, “With how minutely displaced the lens was, I’m impressed you even noticed.”

“Impressed?” Crosshair repeated, cocking an eyebrow in apparent disbelief. “Why?”

“Well… mathematically, any change in the relative vertex distance between focal planes will cause a deviation in the refracted ray, thus distorting the perceived real image…” The goggled man’s head snapped violently upwards again, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates as his attention darted back and forth between you and his silver haired brother. “...but the second focal plane was only dislodged by about a millimetre. You must have pretty fantastic eyesight to pick up on such a small visual misalignment.” A fleeting glance to your right confirmed that the goggled man’s twinkly brown eyes were affixed on you, and it was with a foreign sense of budding shyness, that you extended the plastoid box out to Crosshair.

“Did you fix it?” he queried, collecting the offering and promptly unlatching the lid.

“Only temporarily, unfortunately.” A disappointed grimace weighed down your response. “It likely happened during the initial dislodging, but the bevel that holds the lens in place is significantly chipped. I’ve re-embedded it into its grooved housing, but I wouldn’t rely on it being a permanent solution.”

The disappointment that saturated your explanation did not seem to be mutual as the sniper wasted no time dropping to a knee beside you and pulling the pack from his shoulders. He retrieved the scope from its enclosement first, abandoning its container to the stone floor at your feet, before collecting and clicking together the deconstructed rifle parts that he wore on his back. Eager to avoid being accidentally knocked by the intimidatingly long rifle barrel being mounted into place, you turned and took a small step sideways.

The toe of your boot, however, didn’t descend as gracefully as you’d intended, instead snagging itself upon something domed and rigid, simultaneously sending your right ankle tipping sideways, and your arms outwards in a frantic motion to stabilize yourself. It wasn’t until you’d steadied the breath in your lungs that your eyes located the tripping hazard, ready to kick it away lest you step on it again. Embarrassment flooded your veins. It was a boot…

“Oh kriff, I’m sorry!” you cried, immediately relieving your fingers of their iron grip around the goggled man’s forearm. “I should have looked before I moved. Did I hurt you?”

Fuelled by the pounding of your heart in your chest, a heat rose quickly and earnestly to your cheeks as dazzling brown eyes widened behind those goggles again. An awkward silence expanded in the air between you as he failed to answer, and you hastily shifted your attention to Crosshair’s retreating figure, reconstructed rifle pointed upwards to the ceiling as he headed towards the nearby shooting lane.

“You did not. Our footwear is impregnated with a multilayered durasteel core that is able to withstand over 150kg of pressure, and you do not appear to have a mass equivalent to or exceeding that. However, the unanticipated need to anchor yourself with my arm nearly caused me to drop my datapad.”

It may have been the curt, matter-of-fact tone in which he spoke, another complete inverse to the slithery smoke of his brothers voice; it may have been the awkward and inelegant cadence of his reply; it may have been the adorable shift of his goggles on the bridge of his nose as he averted his gaze from you again that triggered a flutter in your gut, but for the second time, you found yourself momentarily tongue-tied.

“That would have been bad,” you somehow managed to force out under the duress of the giddy smile fighting to adorn your lips.

“Indeed,” he breathed.

His attention returned bashfully to the illuminated screen in his hands, the tops of his ears reddening slightly against the brush of his dark hairline, and you took the deviation of his gaze as an opportunity to survey his goggles. It was not the untraditional choice of eyewear that warranted your curiousity, as a strapped goggle was an entirely appropriate choice for a soldier who was likely constantly active, nor was it the recording device, mounted expertly along his right temple and aglow in the dim lighting of the corner either. It was his lenses: tragically thick, horribly smudged, and inducing a degree of magnification that you saw only rarely in the industry.

‘Poor hyperopes,’ you thought to yourself, the inherent squint of his eyes as they fought to focus through a series of ungodly fingerprints pulling an adoring smile onto your lips.

“Sorry if this is a little strange but… can I clean your lenses?” You spoke deliberately lightly and aloofly, intent on ensuring that he took no offense to your offer, and it was with a subdued tentativeness that you watched the adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“Clean my lenses?” he repeated, returning his gaze to you with dark brows knitted slightly in befuddlement.

“Yes,” you confirmed, blindly reaching into your bag for your trusted, green microfiber cloth. “They are filthy, and I don’t know how you can see anything.”

An unexplained affection welled inside of you as his thin fingers nimbly shifted his goggles again, exposing the repeated gesture as a soothing motion; the smallest of irrelevant movements acting as a pacifier against situations where discomfort threatened to provoke him.

“I did not realize the poor nature of their condition,” he admitted, indefinitely suspending the back and forth of his attention by stowing his datapad away into one of many pouches around his waist.

“You wouldn’t,” you answered with a small shrug and a smile, watching his features tense momentarily under the duress of pulling his goggles off. “Hyperopic, or ‘far-sighted’ people, by nature, struggle to see anything in the immediate vicinity of their gaze. That’s why they can never tell if their glasses are dirty or their lenses are scratched. So… you can’t help it.”

“You… are correct.” He answered slowly, his tone still dripping in what sounded like pleasant astonishment as he extended his goggles out to you. “A mutation in my genetic structure caused an innocent yet bothersome bilateral malformation of my corneas, resulting in a significant degree of hyperopia.”

“That’s probably putting it lightly.” A small chuckle left your mouth as you swaddled the left lens with your cloth and began to deftly wipe away the sea of fingerprints. Much like Crosshair had while his precious scope was being tended to in the foreign clutches of a stranger, this man watched your practiced hands intently and possessively as you worked to polish away any signs of a smudge.

The fluorescent bulbs suspended two-dozen feet above you were nowhere near as effective as the optical-grade backlit yellow panel that sat in the corner of your workshop, but were just luminescent enough to affirm you’d removed the last of the oily smears before you pocketed your cloth. A knowing smirk peeled its way across your lips as you shifted the lenses to-and-fro in front of your mildly squinted eyes, observing how the biconcavity on the front surface bent the reflection of the overhead light. “What’s the nature of your prescription?” you questioned as your left eye closed and your fingers rotated his goggles. “I’m assuming just based on the Against-Motion principle, that you’re probably around a +8.00? Maybe a +9.00?”

He blinked rapidly and repeatedly, seemingly trying to rid his vision of the anatomical blur that would forever plague him in the void of his goggles before answering.“I… am not certain of the exact dioptric correction,” he divulged, now grinding his knuckles into his eyes. “But I believe your estimation to be accurate. I am impressed that you could make such a determination based loosely on the principles of magnification alone.”

“It’s my job.” While you were able to modestly shrug away the giddiness of his inferred praise, your composure was no match for the accentuation of his sharp jawline, thrown into relief as the first hint of a smile tugged his cheek toward his ear. “I handle dozens of lenses every day,” you continued, averting your eyes to the goggles you held out to him. “I’m well practiced.”

“That is obvious.”

The affable response waiting just behind your smirking lips was halted in place by the return of the sniper as he reappeared at his brother’s side, his lithe face impassive and his rifle already snuggled into its cradle in his pack.

“Big improvement,” he uttered, the nod of appreciation that followed his words filling you with a mixture of relief and pride. “What do I owe you?”

“Not a thing,” you answered with a dismissing wave of the hand. The sight of notoriously scowling lips now taut behind a satisfied smile was enough to support that delaying your nefarious to-do list, while undeniably irresponsible, was the right decision. “It was actually nice to have a bit of a challenge for once. Like I said, it’ll hold for a while but it’s not a forever fix.”

“Disappointing.” Faster than it had come, the sly smile on his face disappeared, replaced in a breath by a glum grimace as he plucked the toothpick from the tight clamp of his teeth and flicked it to the floor at his feet. “Pretty sure that model is out of production now.”

“Sure is,” you confirmed, sympathetically matching his grimace with one of your own. “I did some research today—” (goggles snapped his head in your direction again) “—from the limited information that I could find, your model was the last that incorporated a biconcave first focal plane. But… I actually found an alternative tucked away in my workshop.” You reached a hand blindly into your bag, the keys to your speeder jingling as you roughly pushed them aside in search of the stiff plastoid box you’d shoved into the depths before leaving work. “The internal components are the same, but the barrel attachment clip differs from yours.”

Crosshair spared the offering only a microglance before the crease between his dark brows deepened, his top lip flattening at the thick layer of dust that blanketed the white plastoid case. You grinned apologetically at the sight of his disgusted expression, and an understanding began to click together like puzzle pieces in your mind. Crosshair’s man-of-few-words ethos was not one of implied supremacy as you had initially presumed, he simply communicated more effectively with his expressions and mannerisms than he did with words.

“The box looks like it hasn’t been touched in centuries,” you admitted, pushing the case into his chest, “but the scope itself is pristine. You’re welcome to keep it if you think it’s suitable.”

His gaze danced across your features skeptically as if dissecting it for any sign of an ulterior motive that hadn’t managed to previously identify, but the reassurance you offered by means of a small smile must have silenced his concerns, as he moved to unlatch the container and flip it open.

It was barely an hour after Crosshair had departed your establishment that you realized why the plastoid case that housed his scope had seemed vaguely familiar to you, and it was with a sense of excited urgency that you’d jogged to the back corner of your workshop and snatched the step stool from beside the broom. Tucked away on the top shelf of a precariously hung cupboard above the lens polisher and caked several decades worth of dust, the white box sat seemingly waiting for you. Countless times in the past had it been regarded as nothing but left over detritus from your uncle, unceremoniously pushed aside and ignored as you fervently looked for something else among the clutter, but today, as recognition had flared inside of you, it’s time in the spotlight had finally come.

The sniper’s abnormally long digits pulled the foreign scope from its foam mattress, hovering it in front of his tattooed eye while turning to orient himself toward the target sheets on the opposite wall.

“Hm… not bad actually,” he relented a moment later, turning back around and holding the scope out to his brother. “Tech, do you think you could modify the barrel attachment?”

So his name is Tech. The wordless introduction ensured another flush of your cheeks, and eager to repress the giddy smile that threatened to expose you, you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and ignored the brown–eyed man still passively gaping in your direction.

Crosshair shook the scope impatiently in the space between them, seemingly hoping the motion would shatter the muted reverie in which his brother was currently enthralled. “Tech? …Tech.”

“Um… yes,” Tech confirmed to your surprise, having collected the tool from his brother and agreeing to the task without even sparing it a glance. “Yes… I am able to… attach… myself.”

The chuckle that threatened to spill from your lips forced your gaze to the floor. The weathered and worn painted concrete beneath your boots was nothing but the epitome of lusterless and drossy, but in this moment of featherbrained awkwardness, you’d never seen a more interesting floor.

“Maker, since when can you not talk?” Crosshair hissed through clenched teeth.

Hot in the face and growing increasingly embarrassed by both the awkwardness of the conversation and the rapid emergence of this schoolgirl crush, you turned your attention back to your bag, thrusting your hand into its depths once again and pretending to dig around for something. Your peripheral vision saw Tech shift his goggles on his nose again, and immediately retract the datapad from his waist pouch.

You cleared your throat quietly before adjusting your bag on your shoulder and swinging your keyring noisily around your finger. Tech was blushing furiously and had turned his gaze to the screen of his small device, fingers dancing across the multicoloured buttons as if he’d injected rocket fuel directly into his knuckles. Crosshair, on the tail end of an elaborate eye roll, shook his head impatiently and huffed.

“You sure about this?” he asked you, tapping the lid of the plastoid box in his hands.

“Absolutely,” you answered without even the thought of hesitation. “It was just taking up very limited cupboard space so, if you want it, it’s yours.”

He nodded once, surveying your expression fleetingly once more before tucking the parcel under his arm. “Thanks again,” he mumbled, tossing you a casual three-fingered salute of acknowledgement before turning on his heel and heading the opposite way to the heavy, sliding door.

The sudden abandonment at the hands of his brother seemed to have roused Tech from his vigorous tango of typing, and his magnified eyes flickered to yours only briefly before darting towards the door. Mild amusement pulled another smile to your lips as discomfort erupted across his features; his jaw tensed, his posture straightened, and despite having spent the previous dozen minutes intermittently gawking at you, he now avoided your gaze.

“You better go,” you smirked, gesturing towards the disappearing head of silver hair. “It was nice to meet you. Good luck going… wherever it is that you’re going.”

“The ideology of ‘luck’ is illogical,” he intoned, raising a know-it-all finger into the air, the gesture somehow only intensifying your affection for him though he continued to evade eye contact, “but the sentiments are appreciated. And it was a pleasure gaining your acquaintance as well.”

His stooped frame made it barely three long paces before an urgent idea erupted in your mind. “Tech, wait!”

He turned his slumped shoulders back around to face you, mild curiosity etched into the small furrow in his brow as he lowered his datapad and held it limply at his side. “Keep this,” you offered, extending out the green microfiber cloth to him. “You need it more than I do.”

He stared, adorably flummoxed, at the fabric in your hand. “Keep it in one of your six hundred pockets,” you added with a goofy smirk and small gesture down to the series of cargo belts that seemingly adorned every inch of his tall frame. A mildly affronted expression ghosted across his face, but it was succeeded almost instantly by the same small smile that had sent your heart aflutter earlier. He took the cloth from you with a small nod, tucking it into the pouch perched just above a dangling spanner wrench on his hip, before muttering a quiet “goodbye” and continuing toward the door.

[mamawasatesttube]

IN LOVE with mentorverse au. its like the realization you get as a kid, finding out that your teacher doesn’t sleep in the school and does, in fact, have a home and a life outside of work. except the life your nerd ass teacher has is a rotating cast of CELEBRITIES AND SUPERHEROES. (or maybe a better analogy is realizing your favorite kooky college prof whose TAs all wish would adopt them has like 3 doctorates, a nobel prize, and a photo of him shaking hands with the president) either way, endlessly entertaining

—🌙

YES precisely!!! your cool but dork-ass mentor just casually hangs out with NIGHTWING and SUPERMAN??????? WHAT????

that really is the exact dynamic like you nailed it. bc tim is So competent and they do respect him but also they joke around with him and call him a dork-ass loser and he laughs at it. like there's just this level of oh, yeah, he's human, he's just some guy, yes he's really good at what he does but he's also just Some Guy. and then you turn around and he and impulse??!! are both just standing there staring unblinkingly at freaking supernova, until supernova throws up his hands and goes "oh my god FINE!" and leaves and then comes back in like 4 minutes with both of their favorite jamba juice orders. and you just go okay what the SHIT just happened--

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Hello, I have been reading some of your posts about Dork Diaries, and I'm curious if you could give me some tips for someone new to the series. For example, what are the best to worst books in the series or more recurring elements I should be aware of in the future?

Aw thank you, it's good to know someone's reading my posts. I will definately say books 1-9 are the best of the series as quality dips down over the years. You should definately read in order but my favorites would have to be book 2, book 3, book 6, book 7, and book 9. The worst are probably book 12 afterwards since the author is meandering and trying to milk this series as long as possible.

Some reoccuring elements is Nikki being oblivious to all of Brandon's hints, Mackenzie being a drama queen, Nikki saying things in her head but not out loud and always a kooky authority figure for Nikki to accidentally bumble up.

Hope this helps and my inbox is always open.

[aajjks]

NWO!JK

“KAI!” you gasp as you watch everyone surround the crouching young man. you want to leave the bleachers and run to his aid but everyone is doing their best to help the poor guy.

“that nerd deserves to be disqualified. he totally did that on purpose!” yells one of your classmates.

“that ‘nerd’ is my friend and he’d never do something like that on purpose” you sass but your defense is useless. everyone is convinced that jungkook’s accident was on purpose but you know he’d never hurt someone intentionally. your sweet kooky? never….right?

“i-it’s okay” winces kai who blindly believes his teammates apologetic act.

“maybe you should sit out this game” says one of their teammates but kai insists that he’s okay. despite being pissed off, he’s impressed by jungkook’s strength. it all happened so fast and his precision was spot on—almost like he wanted to hit him with the black and white ball.

“sorry kai but i think you need to rest. sungwoo, you’re the goalie. i’ll check in with you after the first quarter of the game. daegu’s team should be here in 20 more minutes. i need everyone hydrated and ready in 10” says the coach who leaves the team under eunwoo’s supervision.

“jeon, you mind running inside and grabbing the cooler?” reluctantly, jungkook runs inside to grab the water cooler even grabbing bags of ice to keep the bottles cold. just as he’s about to head back out—

“well well well, if it isn’t the nerd”

young-jae and three other guys begin to surround jungkook. “i think it’s time to mess up that pretty face of yours and show morgan that you’re nothing but a dork who’s scared of his own shadow”

young-jae slaps the cooler from jungkook’s hands, tossing it down the hall. jungkook is surrounded and young-jae is sure the ‘nerd’ is probably scared, helpless. this is going to be so easy.

~🫧

Jungkook clenches his jaw as he hangs his head low so the bully and his friends can’t see the anger on his face. They have no idea who they’re dealing with right now.

But it’s just so fun to play the nerd, helpless guy. Jungkook loves every single moment of it because he always manages to gain your sympathy and.. Morgan’s attention.

“I-I let me go, please.. please.” Jungkook turns on his facade, as he tries to pick up the cooler. But looks like these guys are really asking for it because as soon as he crouches down on the ground to pick up the cooler, Young jae kicks it back.

Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to surpass his anger. But he’s still angry from before. Maybe he should just take it out on them

Should he? “WHAT HUH? NERD FIGHT BACK.” Jungkook groans lightly, fixing his posture as he stands back up. “Look I don’t want any trouble.” Jungkook sighs. But before he can actually go and pick up the cooler, he senses an attack incoming.

Something tingles inside his head and before the attack can land, Jungkook grabs Young jae’s flying fist. “O-Oh look please don’t hurt me alright?” Jungkook tightens his grip on his fist, twisting it a little.

“YOU LITTLE FUCK IT HURTS!”

“I’ll go now.”

Jungkook immediately runs to pick up the cooler, tightening his grip on the ice bags.

But then someone shoves him harshly.

THATS IT.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a single moment before kicking the attacker harshly, the force of the kick inhumanly strong as Young jae goes flying.

Jungkook sighs in disappointment, but there’s a sense of satisfaction too. But he has to keep hiding the secret of his strength.

“Whoops sorry…”

Jungkook quickly walks away from the hall, back into the ground.

“GUYS I GOT THE COOLER.”

[neitherabaron]

which other dimension 20 seasons have you watched? 👀

Basically what’s available for free, so that would be the first seasons of Fantasy High and The Unsleeping City, and Escape from the Bloodkeep (my fav so far.) Crown of Candy was what made me take the plunge on Dropout in the end. I’m not sure every season is gonna be my cup of tea, and I’m gonna pick and choose, but what I’ve seen is amazing!

What I will say is I’m an even bigger fan of Murph’s NADDPOD, which is easier for me to have on in the background when I’m working. D20 kind of demands my undivided attention, which I can’t always give.

It’s weird, I’ve been a fan of Collegehumor since 2007 but this is my first time looking at the Dropout content. I guess I wouldn’t stand by some of their stuff from those early years as they sometimes did bits that are…not ok (but from what I’ve seen, the cast from that era also don’t stand by many of those jokes, which is nice).

But it’s been interesting to see Collegehumor evolve from essentially a group of dorks with uneven acting skills (said with affection, and they improved very quickly) telling jokes about bongs and essay crises, into a place where aspiring young comics could develop their writing and performing skills on the way towards something bigger, into a destination in itself for pretty accomplished and established comedians making something new in a post-traditional-tv world, into insolvency, and now into a wildly improbable Dungeons & Dragons and kooky panel show powerhouse.

And with that, the gradually evolving cast all along the way. People leave, people arrive. Sometimes people who left come back. It’s a nice constant. I’m glad they found a way to keep it running.

[kitteryconner]

I need a Wednesday + Artemis Fowl Friendship or rivalry so bad. And I don’t mean that bullshit Disney stuff. I mean; they are both clearly highly disciplined and a little bit high horsed individuals, but bet your ass they will talk shit on society and . You can’t tell me Artemis isn’t good at playing the straight man one moment and being kooky the next. OR LIKE KOOKY SUBTEXT. He has an alias named F. Roy Dean Schlippe. FRUADIAN SLIP. Mans is a fucking punny dork. imagine a “what are you in for” Wednesday “Attempted murder, the sad part is that I failed.“ Artemis “Apparently it’s “morally corrupt” to keep someone hostage and use them to extort gold from fairies. I’m shocked they didn’t see it coming sooner,“ idk that’s so funny to me

[xcziel]

b*t*s recognition for older, western, beginners (me): (pls ignore if you are experienced army this is for funsies only) (or add more, or corrections, or whatever, i can't tell you what to do lol)

kim namjoon (rm) hyung-line: tall, rapper, perfect english, brainy smart, leader: so often mc-ing and/or wrangling bag of catsmembers, longsuffering, sarcastic and funny, big boy, accidental breaker-of-things

kim seokjin (jin) hyung-line: also tall, singer, princely handsome, fashion plate, actor, oldest but only pulls the card occasionally, from money, suave but also dork, well-traveled since childhood *enlisted in december 2022

min yoongi (suga, agustd) hyung-line: short, rapper, has the producer/songwriter/rapping archetype going for him, mostly in black off-duty, pretty cat man, introvert, deep speaking voice, lil bit of a godfather vibe but tiny cute godfather?, stealth fond and affectionate (yes my bias shhh)

jung hoseok (hobi, j-hope) hyung-line: medium height tier, dancer & rapper, distinctive high cheekbones and sunshine smile, laughs a lot but has that dance practice stern face when he's not joking, often indulgent wine aunt vibes, actual pre-debut street cred like rm and suga *just recently went for enlistment

kim taehyung (v) maknae line: shorter but not short, singer: has a husky breathy register out of several modes, it boy and model, princess mode needs care and attention, poor boy made good, emotional (actually they all cry a lot if you go by videos)

jeon junkook (jk, kookie) maknae line: medium tall, main singer: often a clear r&b flavored tenor, "the one with the tattoos" (right hand and full sleeve most visible) and the calvin klein ad, lip-piercing as well now i believe, strong, extremely hip, excitable, good at everything, the youngest and Baby

park jimin (jimin) maknae line: technically shortest, singer: clear high tenor, trained dancer like *whoa*, flirt, smooth and stylish, pretty as a personality trait, maknae gremlin but with hyung maturity (caretaker), abs, falls off chairs (and only chairs? otherwise immune to gravity)

- these are some busy, busy elite-caliber performers at the very top of the game and i definitely am in awe. like the guys who technically aren't "dancers" in the group are still leagues above many regular official 'lead dancers' in skill - as a whole they are just functioning on another level and it is impressive. i understand army a lot more now

[downbytheouterbanks]

A day has not passed since the obx season two announcement that I haven’t thought about the video Austin posted with Drew 😌

[promisenolies]

I'M SERIOUSLY DEAD OVER THIS.

I laughed so freaking loud the first dozen times I saw this... OMG it kills me.

[fyeahbangtaned]

Jimin's "You~" is too cute :))))))

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #32 - Cozy]

“When you and Jungkook have a cozy night in.”

Genre: married life!AU, domestic Fluff

Warnings: Kookie being a cute dork & the best husband, they’re goals :(

Wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: I love them 3000 😔 also yes, you will be getting multiple ogc drabbles a week, you can’t stop me 😏 enjoy besties 🧡

There is a subtle knock on the door, ripping you out of the trance you had previously been in. You remove your eyes from the shower wall and finally begin moving the showerhead over your body again.

"Yeah?" you call out.

"Hey babe, it’s me", Jungkook says.

"Hey love, what's up?" 

"Can I come inside?" 

"Why?" 

"Don't know, I just thought that maybe we could talk a little." 

You chuckle, "you do know that I'm currently titties out, coochie free in the shower, right?" 

"Uuh yeah? Duh?"

The doorknob moves, but the door doesn’t open. Obviously, because you locked it.

"My boobie babie can I come in?" he whines behind the door. 

"No?" you laugh, "not when you’re giving me that voice." 

"What voice?" 

"The horny voice." 

Silence for a second then, "I'm not giving you the horny voice. Hey babe, what's the difference between me and the shower head?"

"I'll regret asking, but what?"

"The shower head can see your boobies." 

You roll your eyes. 

"Not it", you say despite chuckling to yourself. 

"Babe please, can I come in?" Jungkook tries again, most definitely pouting. 

"Not today, alright? Gotta really wash my crack." 

A faint chuckle. 

"Can I have that? I need me some good ol' alone time tonight", you tell him.

"Yeah totally, get that", Jungkook says, "I'll be upstairs then."

"Yes, it won’t be long anymore." 

"Take your time, love. Hey babe?" 

"Yes Koo?" you ask him, stepping out of the shower. 

"I took a shit before and it smelled so bad."

He cracks you up, "thanks for that information. I hope you left the window open." 

"I did", Jungkook sounds smug, "okay bye, Imma shower upstairs. Gotta wash that crack too. I wiped thoroughly though, just fyi." 

"Never doubted you, love."

"Okay good. Byeee", he coos. 

"Goodbye", you say, chuckling to yourself.

Jungkook leaves for good afterwards and you spend the rest of your nighttime routine smiling to yourself because of him. He is so childishly silly sometimes. It never gets old.

You make yourself a nice cup of chamomile tea before leaving for the bedroom. It seems that Jungkook went on a whole cleaning rampage before going upstairs. The kitchen, as well as the living room, are sparkling clean as you wander through them. He also loaded and then started the dishwasher and remembered to close the windows for the night. Thankfully, because you would have totally forgotten.

Smiling to yourself, because you have the best husband ever, you make your way upstairs to your shared bedroom.

It was the best room of the house. Located on the second floor and with east facing windows, it overlooked the ocean with its sandy beaches and distant seagulls. It was an entire front of windows, reaching from floor to ceiling and with a sliding door leading to the spacious balcony outside. You installed a series of planting pots along the railing and Jungkook set up your beloved cuddle nest. A canopied beach chair with a comfy mattress, soft pillows and fairy lights along the edge of the canopy. You and Jungkook spent many evenings snuggled up there and watching the sun set. As of recently, you also spend an unhealthy amount of time cuddled up in there and playing with your newest addition to your family. A little Doberman puppy called Bam. Jungkook chose the name, explaining to you that he wanted a word related to his roots and that Bam in Korean means both chestnut and night and that it is the perfect name for the dog. "It's because his fur is coloured like a chestnut, but he's also dark and mysterious like the night. Also chestnut sounds so cute, our little chestnut", he told you and because you had nothing to argue against the cute explanation, you decided to call your puppy Bam.

Said puppy is currently making your husband giggle happily as it wiggles his little body on his chest.

“Yeah scratchies”, Jungkook coos, scratching behind Bam’s ears, “yeah you like being scratched there? Ohoh yeah scrwatchies, yeah bwig scrawtchies.”

“Shouldn’t he already be in his crate?” you ask him, watching him with fond eyes.

Jungkook looks over at you. 

“Yeah I know, but look at him”, he cups Bam’s little face, turning it to you, “he’s so cute, I just wanna squish him.”

Bam barks softly, alerting Jungkook’s attention, who ends up giggle and then pressing a big smooch on the puppy’s forehead.

“God I wuv you so much”, he babytalks, smooching him a second time, “my Bamie. My cutie bwaby Bamie.”

"You're so cute", you tell him and finally claim your comfy spot on top of the bed. You set the mug of hot tea on your lap and sigh contently.

Jungkook releases Bam’s head and sits up, letting the puppy lie down in the little nook between his thighs. He leans over until he can rest his cheek on your shoulder.

"Wat'cha drinking?" he asks, sneaking a glance into the mug.

"Chamomile tea, it’s really good. Wanna try?"

"No thanks, I’m good. I already brushed my teeth. Hey babe?" Jungkook lies down beside you in a way so that his head is facing the side of your thigh.

Bam crawls up his dad’s stomach, sniffing at Jungkook’s neck curiously while the latter runs his fingers up and down his little back.

"Yes baby?" you ask him.

"I'm thinking about getting another tattoo again. What do you think?" 

"I think that if it makes you happy then go for it. The only question is where and what?" 

"I'm thinking inner left arm? There", Jungkook shows you the empty spot on his upper arm, "something related to Bam." 

"Get a chestnut or his puppy paw print."

Jungkook cranes his neck, gawking at you with big eyes. 

"That's so cute and genius!" he exclaims, "the paw print would be adorable." 

"Right? It would look really good on the spot too." 

Jungkook nods his head, reaching above himself to run the back of his hand up and down your leg.

"Thank you my darling, I knew you'd have awesome ideas", he says.

“Always happy to help.”

Bam now makes it his goal to lick Jungkook’s chin, making him laugh.

“No Bam, don’t lick my face. I already put my skincare on”, he whines, lifting the tiny puppy up so he couldn’t reach him anymore.

Bam kicks his little feet in the air as if he was sprinting, barking rather loudly.

“God Kook, you’re making him all hyper again. You know he’s not gonna be able to fall asleep if you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah I know”, Jungkook whines and sits up, pecking your cheek, “don’t worry, I’m already putting him in the crate. Do you wanna give him his goodnight kissy?” he says, holding him in front of your face.

“Goodnight Bamie”, you coo, giving your little baby a big kiss on the forehead. Bam gives you a kiss back, licking your left cheek until Jungkook pulls him away and rolls out of bed to place Bam in his crate. 

It was still way too big for him, but you both decided that it would be way more financially clever to already buy a big crate for when he grows up and in the meantime fill the space with lots of pillows and stuffed animals. Bam loves it, he especially loves cuddling with his pet giraffe. Tonight is no different. After Jungkook gave him his goodnight kiss and patted his head, Bam finds his sleeping spot cuddled up with the giraffe.

Jungkook hurries back to the bed after closing the crate and rolls onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. He rests his chin on his hands, squishing his cheeks together in the process. Then he grins, eyes crinkling cutely. 

"What?" you ask him.

"Nothing, you're just so pretty."

You reach out, caressing his chin.

“You too, my prettiest.”

“Yeah? You really think I’m the prettiest?” Jungkook asks, fluttering his lashes at you. 

You run your thumb over his lips and the slope of his nose. 

“The prettiest”, you whisper. 

Jungkook grins, kissing your palm before sitting up and stealing a kiss from you. He hums in content, nuzzling the tip of his nose into your cheek. 

“You smell good, baby”, he says, before flopping on his back with his head nestled in the pillow. His fingers are stretched on his tummy, tapping a random rhythm his mind is coming up with on the spot. 

And while Jungkook enjoys the soundtrack of the night, consisting of cicadas and slow waves, you enjoy your chamomile tea, thinking of nothing in particular. 

"Darling I was thinking", Jungkook breaks the silence, "maybe I won’t work out tomorrow morning, but instead go for a run with Bam instead?" 

"Sounds good, Bam would get his movement too. Did the trainer say that we can let him go out so young?"

"I don't know, maybe we should ask him actually before I mess up his training or something."

"Yeah totally, I think that’s clever." 

"Fine then, I’ll work out tomorrow and then play with Bam in the garden later", Jungkook decides with a nod of his head, "do you think he'll poop on the terrace again?"

"I hope not. You’re cleaning it if he does", you say, nudging his chest. 

"You're so lazy, I swear to god", Jungkook pouts. 

"Sorry baby, I promise next time I'm in the garden with him, I’ll  clean it." 

"Obviously, That's a given", he says, eliciting a light laugh from you. 

"Fair point", you say, finishing the tea with a content sigh, "well that was yummy", you say, getting out of bed. 

"Where you going?" 

"Brushing my teeth, I’m not going to bed without clean teeth", you say, disappearing inside the en suite bathroom afterwards. 

You keep the door open so that Jungkook can continue chatting with you.

"I'm feeling so snacky for melon. I think I’ll pop down to Hobi's place and get a fresh one tomorrow."

"Sounds lovely." 

"Nice, I like that we're on the same page with this. Hey baby?" 

"Yes Kook?"

"Do you think we can feed Bam watermelon?" 

"I don't know. Did you check the booklet the trainer gave us?"

"I'm currently doing it", a short pause as he reads then, "good news. We can. But only a little amount and with all the seeds removed. That’s dope, we can give watermelon to Bamie tomorrow."

"Sounds awesome."

"God sorry, I feel like all I'm talking about lately is Bam", Jungkook says, making you smile. 

He is right. Jungkook has been nonstop talking about your little puppy ever since you got him. He sends you pictures of him, shows you all the videos he took, tells you all the things he thinks are cute about him, is inhumanely excited for your shared training sessions with him. One time he cried after Bam managed to do "sit" on the first try. Another time he cried because Bam fell asleep in his lap and he felt bad because he really needed to get up and pee. And another time he talked your ears off about how he will build Bam his own sidecar so he can go on your family adventures once he is older.

So to keep it short, Jungkook is so completely happy and obsessed with this dog that some people may call it insanity. You call it yet another reason why you love him so much. You are so happy about getting Bam and knowing that your husband is just as happy about it, fills you with so much joy. 

You leave the bathroom, turning off the lights behind you. 

"Don't stop, I love that you keep talking about him", you tell him, crawling back under the blanket. You rest your head in the pillow, rolling to your side so you are facing him.

Jungkook does the same. 

"I'm really happy lately", he says, "and you?"

"I'm really happy too." 

"Okay good, that’s good to hear. I just thought I'd ask because I haven’t done that in so long." 

"What? Ask me if I'm happy?" 

"Yeah or just asked you how you’re feeling in general", Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, "we're always so comfortable in our conversations that I sometimes forget to check up on you from time to time." 

You reach out, intertwining your hand with his'.

"I love you, you know?" you say.

"I love you too", Jungkook answers you, squeezing your hand gently. 

You love that even after all those years together, his eyes still seem to race between yours with such awe and adoration. He pulls your hand closer so he can nuzzle his nose into you.

"So how you doing, sweetheart? Any complaints?"

"None", you say, melting like ice cream. 

"Yeah none? How’s the sex front holding up?" 

"Oh that? Mhhm well, I don’t know", you shrug your shoulders.

"Scuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Oh well you know, I can’t really complain. I've had worse."

"___", Jungkook whines, "what the hell? I suck?"

“I’m just messing with you”, you say, cackling mischievously, “you’re amazing.”

“Yah, don’t do that”, he complains with a pout, reaching out to nudge your chest, “I almost started crying right now.”

“Aww I’m sorry baby, gosh come here”, you say, pulling him into a kiss.

One he tries to wiggle out of, “no”, he says, “don’t kiss me, you traitor.”

“Com’ere baby give me kissy”, you coo, smooching his cheek.

Jungkook lets it happen before flipping you on your back and pinning your hands above your head. He smooches your lips, darting his tongue out to lick your nostril afterwards.

“Ew Kook that’s so disgusting”, you whine, trying and failing to wiggle out of his grasp.

Jungkook cackles boyishly, “it’s what you get for telling me that my stroke game is weak.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “fine, I’ll take it.”

Jungkook grins and rests his head on your shoulder afterwards. You close your arm around him, playing with his hair.

“So comfy”, he says, closing his eyes.

“Yeh”, you say and kiss his hair, closing your own eyes afterwards.

You will fall asleep in this position and you will do so happily.​

[blog-name-idk]

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 13

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 2098

~~~~~

You

Mina, I'm screwed

Mina

Oh nice, you finally got laid?

You

Wow you are sooo hilarious

Mina

You love it

Now tell Mama Mina what ails you

You

It's dumb. And embarrassing.

Mina

What, you suddenly realize you're in love with all your perfect roommates?

You

…

Mina

Omg

I fucking knew it

And you were so sure you were gonna be fine

Lolololol

You

It's not all of them!!

Mina

YET lmaooooo

I'm dying

You

Ok well once you can breathe again

HELP

Mina

Lol

I mean

Is it really that big a deal?

You

????

Of course it is

They're my friends

I'm violating their trust

I'm using friendship as an excuse to hang out with them!

Mina

Bruh

You

I'm the worst

Mina

Omg dude

Breathe

Are you doing it to get in their pants?

You

Of course not

I mean they're all smoking hot

But it's not like it's my goal or anything

I just like spending time with them

Mina

Which is what friends do, you adorable dork

So which ones are they?

You

Jin, Jimin, and Yoongi

Mina

Huh, I thought for sure Taehyung was gonna be in there

You

Mina!!!

Mina

I mean, he's gorgeous and totally whipped for you

You

You know he's like that with everyone, right?

Mina

Suuuuuuure

Well, let me know which one you fall for next ;)

You

MINA!!!!

Mina

Well if not him

Maybe Namjoon?

You said you have a huge boner for his voice and dimples

Didn't you write a fucking research paper for him lmao

You

Please never bring that up again

I purged it from my memory

Mina

Or that other dancer guy?

Hope or something?

Didn't you spend all night cuddling with him that one time

You

It's Hobi

And no, he's sunshines and rainbows and too pure for this world

Mina

Lol you sound gone for him already

What about that cutie you used to tutor?

You

Omg no Kookie is too young

Mina

He's one year younger than you dumbass

Also didn't you say he's both the cutest thing ever and ripped as fuck?

You

Are you trying to ruin my life

Mina

Only a little ;)

Really though, I wouldn't freak out so much about it

From what you've told me about them, they all seem like super legit dudes

You

That's the problem!!!

I spent so long immunizing myself against their looks

I totally forgot to guard against their personalities

😭😭😭

Mina

Lol what I mean is

You told them the first day that nothing would ever happen, right?

So they're gonna respect that

They're not gonna make a move unless you do

You

Lol not like they would anyway

Have you SEEN them??

Mina

Bitch have you MET you?

You

Aw thanks

But seriously I'm freaking out

Mina

It's not that complicated

Either you do something about it or you don't

No one (including you) is forcing them to do anything

And no one is forcing you either

You

…

Huh

I was overthinking again, wasn't I

Mina

Yeah but it's one of your charms <3

And if you ever need an outlet you know I'm always here to read your thirsty-ass texts

Srsly I kinda wish I had popcorn

You

You're the best <3

Mina

You can thank me by getting daddy Jin to buy me something nice

You

I rescind my last statement

~~~~~

Eomma

Hi honey, how's school going?

Seokjin

Hey mom, pretty good!

Everyone in my group project is actually competent for once

How are you and dad?

Eomma

We're doing great!

Speaking of groups…

Seokjin

Oh boy

Eomma

When are you going to bring [y/n] for a proper visit?

Seokjin

Uhh I'm not sure

She's really busy with schoolwork

Eomma

She's a double major, isn't she?

What a hard worker

And such a sweet girl

We really liked her, Seokjinnie

Seokjin

I know, you've both told me multiple times

She is pretty great though

She liked you guys too

Eomma

Well we don't mind if she brings some of her work here!

Lord knows your father will understand

You should stay for the whole weekend!

We can prepare the guest room downstairs so you don't have to worry about disturbing us ;)

Seokjin

MOM!!!

Eomma

No need to be shy, we all saw the way you were looking at her

Reminds me of your father and I when we first met

We couldn't keep our hands off each other

Seokjin

I did not need to hear that

Eomma

Can you blame your mother for being excited?

It's been so long since you've introduced us to anyone other than those cute boys you live with

We're just so happy for you

And we'd love to get to know [y/n] better

Seokjin

Sigh… I'll ask her

ONLY dinner though, not the weekend!

Eomma

Ah, I understand

More comfortable in your own homes, I get it ;)

Seokjin

Oh my god

~~~~~

Jin

Hello my wonderful, perfect wife!

Did I tell you that you look absolutely ravishing today?

You

You're about to ask me for something, aren't you…

Jin

Can't a man tell his wife she looks beautiful?

You

Okay then

So you just texted me to compliment me

Jin

Exactly

You

Thanks, babe <3

I'll talk to you later

Jin

Wait no come back, you're right

But I also DO think you look great today!

You

I knew it

You're a heartbreaker Kim Seokjin :(

You'll be hearing from my divorce lawyer

Jin

Nooooo!

Please give me a second chance!

We didn't have a prenup!

You

Hmmm alright

But only because you're so pretty when you beg

Jin

Thank you

You're benevolent and forgiving and lovely

You

Continue

Jin

And beautiful and smart and funny

Flowers bloom when you walk

The wind sighs when you pass by

My soul weeps when we have to part ways in the morning after our steamy, sensual nights

You

Ok ok what is this favor?

Jin

My parents want us to come over for dinner

Honestly it's your fault for seducing them with your feminine wiles

You

Oooooo dinner with the in-laws!

You should be glad they like me, Jinnie

But yeah I'd be happy to, they were really nice

Probably can't in the near future though, final projects are coming up with a vengeance

Jin

Yeah I figured, same here

Just wanted to run it by you since my mom brought it up

You

Are you sure you're okay with it?

We could probably stage an amicable break up

Jin

More than okay

I like spending time with you and my parents will be happy, it's a win-win

You

Awww babe <3

Jin

<3

~~~~~

Jungkook

I hate matrices

You

Aww Kookie

Linear algebra?

Jungkook

Yes :(

You

Want me to take a look when I get home?

Jungkook

Yes please!

Study date?

You

Sounds good :)

Jungkook

Thank you [y/n]!

You're the best

I'll make some of my fancy ramyun

You

Yay!!!!

Jungkook

Will you make cookies this weekend?

You

Hmm

Only if you're good and help me with dinner cleanup the rest of this week

Jungkook

Okay!

You know you can ask me to do that anytime, right?

Without bribing me

You

And that's why I'll make them

Cookies for my sweet lil Kookie

Thanks in advance for the help :)

Jungkook

Anything for you :)

~~~~~

Yoongi

yo can you check if i left my beanie in my room?

Jungkook

No

~~~~~

Jimin

Hello fellow 10s and 95s!

My classmate's having a party tonight

Let's goooooooo

Taehyung

Sounds like fun!

You

I'm sorry Chim

It does sound like fun, but I have too much schoolwork :(

Taehyung

But it's Friday!

You always have schoolwork :(

Jimin

Don't you love us? :(

You

Don't point those sad faces at me

Taehyung

:(((((((

Jimin

:(((((((((

You

You know those don't work over text right?

Jimin

Are you in your room right now?

You

No

Taehyung

That's a lie

She got home 10 minutes ago

Jimin

Meet you there Taetae!!!

You

I'm locking the door

Taehyung

I'm almost there!

Jimin

Perfect

You

WTF YOU CAN'T COME IN THROUGH HOBI'S ROOM

THAT'S CHEATING

~~~~~

You

Hobi! There's a sale on Sprite at the grocery store!

Hobi

!!!!

I'm busy all day though :(

You

I already got some for you hehe

Hobi

You're too good to me

I must have done something great in a past life to have you as a friend :')

You

Aw Hobi you're making me blush

Hobi

It's the truth!

You

Oh! Mina accidentally called you Hope instead of Hobi, isn't that so cute?

Hobi

Haha I like it!

You

Now introducing the best dancer in the world

Some call him Jung Hoseok

But the rest of us know him as J-HOOOOOOOPE!!!!

Hobi

Now you're making me blush!!!

You

It fits so well since you bring hope and sunshine into my life

Hobi

[Y/n]! Stop!!!!

You

You don't want to be my hope? :(

Hobi

You know that's not what I meant!

You

All this time I thought we had something special :(

Hobi

Sigh okay…

I'm your hope, and you're my hope

You

J-HOOOOOOOOOPE!

~~~~~

Yoongi

you up?

You

Min Yoongi you did not just send me a "u up" text

Yoongi

i did

one hand job please

You

I'm starting to regret making that joke

Wait are you seriously asking me to come to the music building at midnight?

Yoongi

nah i'm in my room

You

You know I'm not accepting payment via your "tongue technology" right?

Yoongi

that's too bad

i was going to show you one of my tracks

You

omw

~~~~~

You

Fucj Mina he'a so hot omg

akfjlfj

Mina

Which one are we talking about right now?

You

YONGU

HE RAPS

ADN HES GOOD

FUUCCCKKKJJKKJ

Mina

Wait are you drunk?

You

I coldnt hmdle the turth sober dont judg me

Mina

You're a huge dweeb and I love you

~~~~~

You

Hey Namjoon!

I've got a rough draft for my linguistics final done

Would you mind looking at it when you get a chance?

Namjoon

Sure thing!

Though knowing you it will be great already

You

Haha thanks but it's a rough draft for a reason

Namjoon

Do you have any more papers coming up for that art history class?

More than happy to look through those too

You

Lol well

The final for that one is a group project!

So no papers left this year

Namjoon

That's too bad, I really enjoyed the one you showed me!

You

I am so glad I can't see your dimples over text

Namjoon

Huh?

What do you mean?

You

Nevermind

Anyway I'll email you the paper later!

Thanks Namjoon!

Namjoon

No problem

You know I'm always happy to help

You

Yeah

You're the best :)

I'll make brownies this weekend

Namjoon

This house is blessed

~~~~~

Jackson

Hey, Namjoon!

Namjoon

Jackson! What's up?

Jackson

Not much, just wanted to check in

And thank you for taking good care of my baby sister

Namjoon

Haha she takes care of us too

Jackson

I did want to ask you how she's doing

We talk every week but she's the kind of person to play down any issues she has

I was pretty surprised when she asked me for help that one time, actually

Namjoon

We've noticed that

She does seem fine overall

I think she works too hard

But try telling her to take a break

Jackson

I know exactly what you mean

I'm glad you're looking out for her

I'm sure you two nerds get along well

Namjoon

Yeah it's nice having another art buddy

She actually wrote the coolest paper for her art history class

It was really good

Jackson

?

Namjoon

For the elective she's taking

Jackson

She's not taking any art history classes…

Namjoon

Yeah she is?

Selected Topics in Contemporary Art

Jackson

She is definitely not in that class

Namjoon

That doesn't make any sense

She asked me for help

Jackson

Hm

Namjoon

Her paper was flawless

Even the citations were perfectly formatted

Jackson

Explain

Namjoon

Uhh she told me she was having trouble starting her paper and needed references

And I gave her some texts and pointers

Then offered to proofread her paper

Jackson

Namjoon

Namjoon

?

Jackson

Be honest with me

Namjoon

I'm always honest with you?

Jackson

Are you and my sister… involved?

Namjoon

WHAT

No, of course not!

I would never!

Jackson

Oh so you're saying my sister isn't worthy of your attention?

Namjoon

I feel like there is no good answer here

Jackson

We'll talk when I'm back in the country

Namjoon

Oh come on, dude

Jackson?

Please man

I want children someday

I need my balls

Hello?

~~~~~

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