#sorry for the blurry second image lol

[therian-cat-mitzy]

RAHHHH MASKS!!

Irl therian friend (my only one lol) made me the cat mask, and gave me a blank one that is a coastal wolf wip :)

(References:)

[ppushable]

two ibuprofen

jean kirschtein x gn!reader / oneshot / wc: 7.3k

part 1 of rose tinted hours

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Sunday morning. What's the best way to spend a Sunday morning?

Craned over the plaguefest of the guy I'm dating-not-dating, trying to shove two ibuprofen down his throat?

(It works the second time.)

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ao3 tags:

ok here we go / Alternate Universe - College/University / Sickfic / Sick Character / Fluff / Kissing / Alternate Universe - Modern Setting / Texting / Vomiting / Not at the same time / Winter / gender neutral reader / i dont know how to make tea / mentions of sanrio / mentions of bagged milk / slight angst? i guess? if you squint? / reiner texts like a boomer and im sorry / POV First Person / Present Tense

i live in a special part of canada so excuse the bagged milk. (just kidding bagged is better)

reader is gn! if anything seems off please lmk. (do that if the text names are confusing too!)

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Bzzz.

The darkness and warm comfort of sleep cracks as my eyes peel open to the vibration of my phone. My blurry wall is bathed in orange light and the cold draft coming in from the open window carries the swoons and trills of birdsong. Pretty…

Holy shit I have class I’ll be late—

With effort, I blink until the shapes around me become clean and defined. Am I late? Sunlight on the ruffles of my quilt like a Renaissance painting. Coats and bags hanging from the hooks on the back of my bedroom door. Clothes from the night before, still on the ground from when I dropped them there, dead-tired. My phone buzzes again, causing an internal jolt that spurs me to snatch it off the nightstand and expel the charger in one swift movement.

mr. handsome: emergency alert! 🚨 alert! god-level threat!

mr. handsome: One image attachment

Oh, it’s a message from Connie.

Oh, it’s 8:19 AM.

Oh, it’s a Sunday.

The glowing numbers on the screen indicate the next minute and I toss the phone somewhere on the bed before re-curling myself into my nice warm quilt in this nice cool morning. Sorry, Connie, the grocery run to 7-11 for more sushi will have to be done by someone else. This is probably the happiest I’ll be all day, provided I stay sleepy enough not to feel guilty for doing nothing. The world goes black.

Bzzz.

This time, my eyes peel open on their own.

Fine, Connie, you win.

Trying to ignore the bitter taste of morning in my mouth, I grope for my phone and lift it above my head.

sashacado: BAHAHAH GOOD LUCK WITH THAT ONE BALDY

Another message pops up.

mr. handsome (replying to @/sashacado): 🖕

mikachu: you need to get out of there, connie. like rn.

lainah: Run while you still can! LOL! 🤣

Although the last text pains me on a metaphysical scale, I open up the groupchat. It’s getting fishy now: first of all, Connie’s never up this early, least of all on a weekend; secondly, he said ‘god level threat’ (which is apparently the worst level of threat), and third, Mikasa rarely speaks in the groupchat. Sure, she lurks, but she only ever emerges when something big is happening.

Some more people are active now and I have to scroll up to find Connie’s image.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Blurry and off-centre as the picture might be, it clearly depicts the ugliest green-and-white striped couch I ever laid my eyes on (“It’s an antique!” Connie had argued) that belongs to Connie and Jean’s shared dorm in which the latter of the two is curled up in (yet he still scrapes the armrests with the top of his head and toes). Littering the stained carpet around him — they prefer eating on the couch than on an actual table, so spills are inevitable — are wads of crumpled-up tissues. To really top it off is the Cars blanket that Jean won at a festival that’s seemingly in the process of being violently torn from his form, clinging to the armrest closest to the camera and pulling beyond. A message banner pops down from the top of the screen.

jean: i’m fine. and give me my fucking blanket back. i can hear you giggling from your bedroom. connie.

grammar police: connie give his blanket back

lainah: Haha!

grammar police: i swear things like this only happen when I’m gone

Right, Marco usually goes home for the weekends.

ymi: Lmfao that thing prolly gave you a disease in the first place

ymi: Have u even washed it once

mr. handsome: cut the ccrap Ymir we wash it more than you wash ur hair

sashacado: LMAOOO

ymi: At least I have hair

sashacado: AGAHAHH CONNIE

grammar police: you guys

grammar police: missing the point here

mr. handsome (replying to @/ymi): and its sad cuz mine is still better than youres

mr. handsome: like girl tf is up with the shaved sides

mr handsome: jojo siwa looking ass

sashacado: LMAOOOOO CONNIE EAT HER UP

Smiling, I return to the main chat screen.

ymi: Count your fucking days springer

ymi: At least I still have a girl

grammar police (replying to @/mr. handsome): ^yours

mr. handsome: ok nerd

grammar police: I’m taking away your Netflix

mr. handsome: I sincerely apoligize for my words.

grammar police: it’s the effort I guess

grammar police: back to Jean though

jean: i told u im prrfectly fine. just give ne back my blanket i’ll sleep it off

grammar police: do I need to come back to campus for the weekend?

mikachu: im stopping by the store. can grab some medicine

jean: ffs IM FINE GIVE ME MY BLANKET CONNIE OR IM TELLING THEM ABOUT THE GRATER THING

grammar police: Jean you need some medicine at least. I heard there’s a nasty flu going around and you’d be the type of person to catch it

grammar police: did you call your mom? I can call her if you want

jean: IM

jean: FINE

jean (replying to @/grammar police): DO NOT DO THAT

Poor Jean. He doesn’t have anyone to take care of him. Connie’s a mild germaphobe, believe it or not, at least when it comes to sickness (he nearly went crazy during Covid) and is probably keeping a safe distance from his roommate. And it’s not like any of his other friends are willing (or able) to help out, with Marco out of town. He doesn’t have any siblings here; the closest relative he has might be his mother all the way back in Trost. Not even a significant other.

Well. I mean.

There’s me.

But we’re technically not dating. Not yet. We’re still trying to figure things out — hell, I don’t even know if he likes me back.

Well, okay, there was that time we kissed. But it’s just a kiss. And it was an end-of the year party, and everyone was feeling it. And it’s January now and we haven’t done it again so it’s nothing. It’s nothing!

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at my foundations like a tiny, evil beaver.

Wow. So you’re willing to let a guy suffer just because you’re unsure? Now that’s selfish. While you’re sitting here muttering to yourself he’s probably burning with fever and wishing he were dead. Real classy.

Shut the fuck up, beaver. It’s weird to just barge into someone’s house like that. And we don’t know each other that well.

You’ve known each other for a long time. He’s sick. At least take care of him. You don’t need to be his lover or whatever. Just be a good friend, huh?

I guess…

And you know Connie, too, don’t you? You’ll be doing him a big favour by getting this plaguefest out of his living room. He needs to finish off Breaking Bad so he can look at the memes without being spoiled. You’re not helping dear old Connie out, either.

Fuck, you do have a point.

Besides, everyone knows what happened between you and Jean at the Christmas party. They’re probably waiting on you to—

With great effort I manage to unfocus my eyes to see if anyone mentioned me but Connie and Jean have devolved into another stupid somewhat one-sided argument. So they aren’t saying anything outright. But they’re probably thinking it.

They’re definitely thinking it.

Okay, that’s enough from you.

I swipe off the groupchat to see all of my chats and open up my DM with Jean — right near the top — and start typing.

me: hey. sorry if this is weird, but i wanted to check on you bc ur really sick apparently

No, that won’t do. I purge the message.

me: hey fuckass. did you go out without a coat again? do i need to come and take care of

No, not that, either. Hopefully he isn’t looking at our messages or else he’d see me typing like an idiot. I tap the side of my phone as I think, stringing together ideas and words and different ways he could perceive me based on how I put them together.

I go back to the main groupchat.

me: @/jean @/mr. handsome im coming over. be there in 15

me: also @/mikachu could you pick up some lozenges and cough syrup? ty i’ll pay u back <3

I zone out at the screen until someone starts typing and throw the phone down on the bed again before scanning the ground for something wearable. Goodbye, sweet air and Renaissance scene and birdsong. After assembling myself and brushing my teeth, I check the mirror attached to the back of the shared bathroom door that Sasha decorated with some Sanrio stickers from Amazon. She had a phase.

Matching socks, jeans, campus sweatshirt, T-shirt underneath big enough to splay out underneath like a fan. Hair a mess. Face a mess. Good enough. It’s not like Jean will look much better. It’s not like I care that much about how I look around him.

I pull the door aside and collect my belongings — phone, bag, coat — before whisking through the door, full sail for Connie’s res building. I hit the stairwell running.

Do I know how to take care of sick people? I mean, more or less. It’ll be fine. All you have to do is feed them and make sure they don’t puke all over themselves. Right?

On the way I stop by one of the cafeteria atriums, one of the smaller ones I frequent for its souped-up coffee counter with every additive known to man. I scan the containers on the counter — milk, cream, nutmeg — until I find the packets of honey and shove one into my bag while trying not to look guilty to the few people that dot the room. I more than paid for it just by attending.

Now on the main floor by the parking lot, I struggle to untangle my keys from the mess in my bag and, without looking, push the unlock for my car. It beeps faithfully in the same place I left it and I hurry to the sound like a moth to flame.

It’s a smallish car that’s starting to rust near the top. I open the drivers’ door and toss my bag in the passenger seat before throwing myself in and shutting the door, shutting out the world, disturbing the rubber Kuromi keychain hanging from the rearview mirror. My breath comes out steamy. The car comes to life on the third try — best to let it warm up a bit before I go.

Inhale, exhale. I open up the groupchat.

jean: you will do no such thing

jean: @/me

mr. handsome: so THATS what it takes for u to finally visit

mr. handsome: ive been keeping it nice and clean just for u 😙

mr. handsome: until mr covid came and ruined it

mikachu (replying to @/me): dw about it babes xx

sashacado: mika get me chocolate

mikachu: maybe. driving

Mikasa and I, weirdly enough, were the first to get our full licenses. A smile pulls at my face and I duck down to look at my lap. Jean had nearly begged us to give him driving lessons, and of course, I agreed. Days of close calls, driving under the speed limit, getting honked at, constantly checking the mirrors, nearly rear-ending people at stop signs, elbows touching on the armrest…

Of course, now Jean can drive without a hitch. Maybe not good enough yet that I’d sleep while he does it, but that’s a personal thing.

I almost put my phone down before noticing I have a few more private messages.

jean: seriously you dont have to come. im fine

jean: its acc not a big deal

jean: i had colds like this before. im not ur responsibility

Something about that last line stings. I guess he’s right, technically. We’re not that close. Who am I kidding?

But I already announced to the world what I’m going to do. And I already decided on it.

me: im coming whether you like it or not. watch connie for me

When I can’t see my breath anymore I start driving.

Stohess is a big campus. And while I’m not a huge fan of carbon emissions, I’m also not a fan of 20-minute walks in blistering, dry cold (or wet cold, for that matter). Also, I don’t want to keep Jean waiting. The eco society is going to kill me.

I pull in to the all-too-familiar parking spot, the one Jean pulled into a hundred times in preparation for his driving test in his new, expensive car his parents bought him because “he was doing so good with his driving!”

He’d thanked me profusely for helping him out, which, in hindsight, was mildly out of character for a broody, arrogant guy like him.

But then again, so was kissing me at that party. Not so much the kissing part. Just the me part. And the gentle-tight way he held me, the way he looked into my eyes…

I suck in a sharp breath. But I’m doing this as a friend. Not because of whatever we might be. If Connie was the one who got sick, I’d be here, too.

Steeling my nerves, I take my bag with an iron grip and make for the dorm.

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The door is already open when I arrive, propped open by a deflated volleyball. Weird. Some music that sounds like it was taken straight from Fast and Furious plays from inside. Knowing Connie, it probably is.

Nothing stirs when I open the door, but it is a pretty quiet door. The living room is right in front of me, ugly antique couch and all, but it’s completely empty. I didn’t walk into the wrong room, did I?

“Connie? Jean?” I slip off my shoes — Connie is insistent (I think shoes in the house is a crime anyway) — and creep through the dorm. “You guys?“

My voice rings through. Nothing. Peals of dread condense in my stomach and I pick up the pace, nearly barreling to a stop in front of the bathroom. I knock; first on the bathroom, then Jean’s bedroom. Connie left his door open.

“Jean? You in there?”

No response.

“I’m gonna— I’m opening the door, okay?”

And without time to think about what might be on the other side, I twist the knob and push.

Nothing. I even look behind the shower curtains.

Who even closes an empty bathroom?

Next is Jean’s room, but it’s also empty.

Where the hell are they?

I check my phone again and text the group chat.

me: @/mr. handsome @/jean where are you guys?

Waiting…

lainah: Gym

.

What.

me: are you sure.

lainah: One image attachment

Sure enough.

I should have noticed when his parking spot was empty.

me: dont let them leave. omw now

Sasha starts typing something but I throw my phone in the bag. I should have known they’d pull some bullshit like this. Well, not they. He. Something blistering and boiling threatens to spill over within me, but I take a deep breath. I’ll deal with him when I get there.

Jean’s a smart man, but not when he’s being stubborn.

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The car ride, despite being short, gave me a chance to cool my nerves.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. I grip the steering wheel in front of the gym. It’s fine. And step out.

Anytime Fitness is a strange and marvellous place full of people you might not see anywhere else. I don’t care about them. I scan the machines and see Reiner on the treadmill, and he meets my eyes a moment after. He nods in a different direction and I follow his gaze until I see the unmistakable bronze and shaved hair combination. I mouth a thank you and he smiles.

I must look completely out of place here, weaving between sweaty and half-naked bodies in my coat and jeans like I have a demon on my tail until I’m standing behind the chest press.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Connie’s saying and by the way Jean grunts it’s definitely not the first time.

“Let it go. I’m fine, and I’m going to the gym like I always do.” Jean’s voice is thick and nasal. “Buzz off.”

“Look, I already left the house with you. I can’t let you die here.”

“I said I’m fine—”

At the end of Jean’s rep, I slip the pin out of the weights. Jean nearly lunges over as the heaviness suddenly decreases.

Both look at me.

Connie looks normal. Jean is already slick with sweat, hair askew, red-nosed, with a slight wheeze lining his breath as he sits on the edge of the seat. Not normal. Not fine.

“Jean. My car. Now.” I point at Connie. “You take his back.”

A slight smile cracks his visage and that’s all I see before whipping around like an army man and making my way out.

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There’s a lot of things I could be saying, but I don’t, because there’s too much. So we drive home in silence.

Now that we’re closer, I can really hear the struggle with Jean’s every breath, the occasional cough, the mucous-laced sniffs, as much as he might try to hide it. He just sits there, going on his phone, staring out the window, until:

“Pull over.”

And his eyes are closed, head tilted up, pained look on his sweat drenched-face. I move to the side of the door without question and he scrabbles for the handle — I unlock it for him — before opening the door and half-falling over as he pukes.

I pinch my lip between my teeth and look the other way as the smell hits right after. Fine my ass.

Ever since I was young, the sound of heaving has always unsettled me. Even fake gags. Like it flips a switch in my heart to induce a sudden thrill of terror as if someone horror-movie screamed. And yeah, it’s just throwing up, but I hate it.

My heart races as he unloads again and I just want to plug my ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t sit here.

When the coast is clear I hop out and walk around the back. Jean is squatting on the pavement right before it hits the grass where his vomit lays, poking up through the stiff shoots. Though we’re outside, the smell is even worse. I try not to look at it as I hand Jean a bottle of water and set a stack of napkins I filched from Wendy’s on the passenger seat beside him.

“Thank—” he manages to croak out before pitching over again.

He’s been growing out his hair. I guess I didn’t notice it before, but now it’s long enough to get in his face in this position.

I gather the strands in my hands — soft as that day before the turn of the year — and hold them on the crown of his head as he retches.

When he’s done, I consider rolling down the windows, but decide against it.

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Jean hardly notices when I pull in (again). Weirdly enough, his car still isn’t here — either Connie drives like a grandpa or he’s gone off somewhere.

“Jean.”

He inhales through his mouth, sucking up the new, pukey scent of my car, and opens his door with half-lidded eyes, leaning hard. It bumps against the campus van I’m parked beside and I cringe. Parked too close. He’s in no state to stand up on his own, let alone walk.

“Let me help you.”

He grunts in something like disagreement and I shut my door on him, going around the back again. Soiled napkins are shoved into the door storage and the water bottle is half-empty and crushed on the floor. Well. I offer a hand and after some hesitation he takes it, clasping my shoulder, and when I help him stand the added weight nearly crushes me. Jean is big, maybe not muscular like Reiner, but tall. Even through my coat and his too-thin sweater he radiates heat and he grunts a sickly air into my ear as he finds his footing. There’s barely enough room for the both of us between the car and the van so I shuffle us sideways, around the other side of the car and to the front. I gently lower Jean so he leans against the hood.

“Wait here.”

He doesn’t object as I shut the passenger door and lock the car before going back and offering my shoulder once again and I nearly fall over once again and we huddle together into the building. He’s never this quiet. Never so agreeable. Never so willing to take the help that’s offered to him.

This is a side of Jean I’ve never seen before. A side that I surely was never meant to see.

I swallow thickly and shuffle our bodies forward so I can push the button for the elevator. His head bumps against mine as it droops but he quickly straightens. “Sorry. Sorry.” His voice is gravelly and small, so small, as if it came from another person entirely.

I stare at the side of his face, but he’s focussed on something far away. “You’re okay, Jean.”

The elevator dings open and we go in. Seventh floor button. The door rolls shut.

Beep. Our knees buckle as the elevator accelerates and the screen above the button panel indicates that it’s going up. It usually smells of antiseptic unless it’s been raining.

Beep. The elevator’s always been slow which is why most people take the stairs instead. Connie calls it the ‘hellevator’ because he swears it almost dropped him once.

Beep. Jean’s trying to steady himself; hold himself up.

Beep. We haven’t been this close together since the party.

Beep. Jean takes an unusually large, wheezy breath and holds it. “Sorry.” His voice is hardly a rumble against my side.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, quietly.

Beep. “For making you do this.”

Beep. The door retracts and muffled hip-hop fills the air. We walk off the hellevator and stand in front of the dorm. 704. An opaque plastic bag hangs off the handle and I take it in the same hand I hold my bag — thanks, Mikasa.

“You have your key?”

Jean grumbles and taps his pockets, pulling out a key ring. A rubber charm — Badtz-Maru, the little angry penguin — hangs from the ring. Sasha gave all of us one in her Sanrio phase. Keroppi for Connie, Charmy for Mikasa, Pompompurin for Marco, Cinamaroll for Eren, Kuromi for me. I (was forced to) help her choose.

The key retracts and Jean uses his free arm to turn the handle and shoulder the door open. He clears — tries to clear — the phlegm in his throat. “Alexa,” he gurgles. “Alexa, stop.”

The music immediately ceases and we stumble to the couch where Jean unceremoniously drops and tucks his head between the armrest and cushioned back, looking utterly uncomfortable.

“Get up, Jean.”

He sniffs.

“Come on. Bed.” I drop my bags on the coffee table. “Not couch.”

“No.”

“Connie will throw a fit. And so will I.”

“Just—” he tries clearing his throat again— “go.”

“I’m not leaving until you get better.” I blink. No, I’m not leaving him here alone. Why does that surprise me?

“I’m fine. I told you. Done it before. I’ll get better.”

“Done it before?” I giggle falsely. “What, you used to rawdogging colds all by yourself?”

A car passes outside, a familiar rising and falling sound against the unfamiliar silence of the dorm.

“Jean?”

“Go…”

And I swear he’s never sounded so… vulnerable before. Like he’s laid out all his organs on a big table and I’m holding the scalpel. Just waiting for the incision.

A little softer, I tell him, “I’m not going anywhere, Jean.”

And I take the goodie bag and head for the simple kitchen — that is, an inlaid fridge, stove, and pantry cramped behind an island counter with a sink. I hold the electric kettle Reiner got for Jean’s and Connie’s fifth anniversary (he thought they were together at first) under the sink and let it fill to two cups just in case before setting it back and switching it on.

Then I rummage through the drawers and cupboards until I find an old, strangely moist box of tea packets. Yuzu mist or Cheerful Citrus? I opt for the latter.

Tearing open the package, I glance at Jean who still hasn’t moved. The teabag I dump into a printed mug that Jean likes to use.

NUMBER 1 COUGAR

I wonder where he got that.

The kettle clicks off when the water boils and I fill the mug. Oh. Honey would be good. I return to the couch and sift through my bag, shifting my keys in the process. Now Jean stirs.

“Are you leaving?”

“No, Jean.”

I keep rummaging. I know it’s in there. Might be in deep, but—

“Please don’t.”

I pause, emotions — affection? concern? — swirling like particles of tea in water. “Okay, Jean.”

I finish making the tea in silence with an almost-empty bag of milk left in the fridge. How do these boys even survive? All that’s in there are cold cuts and a bag of only bread butts, among some other, strange things. Including a pair of boxers.

“Can you sit up?”

Jean sighs into the cushion and braces against the armrest to push himself into somewhat of a sitting position.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

His eyes cast down. I swallow the silence that suddenly envelops us. Nothing weird. Just a room. I’m just a caretaker. “Come on, Jean.”

“Can— can you help me?”

I fall into the little divot in the couch where Jean sits and let him wrap an arm around my shoulder. “Ready?” I say. “One, two…”

We stumble up and pass through the already-ajar door to Jean’s bedroom and I nearly stop to take a better look. He has blackout curtains, currently drawn, painting the room in a dark blue light except for a thin bar of sunlight from between the curtains that propagates as a glowing line on the carpet. The walls are plastered in posters, sketches, paintings, sketches. Half-finished drawings on his desk and swivel chair and a few on the ground. A small compartment shoved into one corner with every art supply imaginable.

Still taking in the view, I (we) back into the bed, butt-first, and Jean unwraps himself from me.

“You won’t… do anything weird… to me?”

I smile. Conversational, that’s good. “Not unless you want me to.” And I wish I had shut up before the first word even came out of my stupid mouth. Standing, I look over my shoulder. “I’m getting the medicine.”

“Wait. Don’t.”

Under the doorframe now, I pause. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back.” And I go to the goodie bag.

I should just work on keeping my mouth shut. Mikasa had picked out some ibuprofen, NyQuil, and lozenges. Pills should be good. I take the mug and the box and head back.

When I get back Jean’s sitting against the headboard, trying to uncrumple his blanket to get underneath.

“Let me help.”

He watches me then, helpless — Jean fucking Kirschtein, helpless! — as I set down the pills and mug on his glass nightstand and unfold the mess he’s got on the mattress. “Pull your legs up.”

He obeys. I pull the quilt over him.

I try not to stare. “You can put your legs down now.”

He obeys.

“Sit up, Jean. You need more pillows.”

Eyes glued to me, he leans forward so I can take his other pillow to prop him up more comfortably, leaning back when I touch his warm shoulder. Then I take the mug and offer it to him. “Drink some of this.”

Painfully quiet, he takes the mug with both hands and takes a tentative sip, lips curling around the brim of the ceramic to slurp up the soothing drink. He’s doing good. Until he hits a bump and starts sputtering.

Immediately I take the drink as he coughs up whatever went down the wrong way. When he’s done I realize I’ve been rubbing circles into his back so I take my hand off.

My phone buzzes in the living room. Shit.

“I’ll be back.”

Jean stares at his knees under the blanket and doesn’t move when I come back.

sashacado: omg yall

sashacado: theyre gonma be killed💯

armong us: What’s going on?

sashacado: @/lainah what did u do

lainah: One video attachment

sashacado: ONG LMFAOOO

sashacado pinned a message

mr. handsome: @/me im headed to urs with sash for a while. hope thats cool w you and all lmk if u need anything

jägermeister: are u fr leaving those two alone

mr. handsome: well good morning to u too pricness

Deleted message

jägermeister: oh right

sashacado: connor springer delete that message rn @/mr. handsome

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

mr. handsome: ok ok jfc im sorry

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

sashacado: ok good

Whatever the hell they’re up to now.

Jean thrashes slowly and I feel a little guilty for staring down at my phone the whole time. “Are you okay?” I breathe, sticking to his beside like a magnet. “Are you in pain?”

“Hot,” is all he says.

I peel the blanket off. He is hot. Really hot.

Not like that. He’s feverish.

“Can you… help me?”

“Yeah?” I stare at him — help with what? — until he raises his arms over his head.

Oh. A few circuits in my head switch off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m can help.” Idiot.

Like touching something radioactive I grasp the edge of his sweater and slowly raise it, catching the shirt underneath for a fleeting second before it falls back down. Deep breath. Yes, I am helping out a guy I’m dating-not-dating who I’m definitely not attracted to to take off his clothes in his bedroom in his empty dorm. Because he’s sick. No problem. Because I’m a good friend.

The neckline catches on his jaw and I unhook it, delicately trailing the scruff on his jaw in the process.

And it’s off and on the ground. Holy shit. Jean’s been sweating. And I know all that dampness on his shirt, clinging feebly to his attractive sick form, didn’t come from his 10 minutes at the gym.

He doesn’t lower his arms. Oh, so we’re doing it like this.

Okay.

I come forward again, within earshot to the rattling in Jean’s chest with his every breath, and quite literally peel the thin white shirt off. This time it’s impossible not to touch his incredibly warm and damp body, not to scrape my nails against the softness of his skin, from his waist to his broad shoulders all the way down his arms. Now he puts them down.

I almost forget he still smells like puke.

“My pants…”

Ohoho. No way, buster. You’re on your own. I’m calling Connie. Nooo way.

“Okay, but unbuckle yourself.”

He does without question, fumbling first with his belt, which I help slide off, and then his jeans.

What in the ever-loving fuck am I doing? This sounds like a smut setup. No. I’m just a friend helping out a sick friend, two friends who have never done anything even slightly romantic together.

“Sit up on the edge, okay?”

He heaves his sweaty self to the edge of the bed, palms leaving wet marks on the sheets, and, staring at the ceiling, I grasp at the hem of his pants (skirting his boxers or whatever he’s wearing because I’m not looking) and pull them (he lifts himself at first to help) all the way down. In one smooth movement I turn back around.

“Put your shirt over your… yourself.”

I wait a good few heartbeats before turning back around and lo and behold, he’s done as told. Frankly, it looks even worse now, like he’s lying in bed completely naked with just a shirt covering him. (But that’s only true if I think it’s true!) The jeans I’m still clutching for some reason I deposit on a chair.

“Jean, I’ll be right back, okay?” I wait for a response I should know isn’t coming before going out again, this time in search for a facecloth. Which I do find, shoved in the corner of the linen cabinet. I should be grateful they even have some, but then again, it might’ve been another gift from Reiner they didn’t have the heart to throw away. I rinse it under some cool water and announce my re-entry.

“I’m back. Sit still.” Folding some of the damp cloth over two fingers, I carefully dab at the sweat on his forehead. No, I need to… I pick off some strands of his sandy hair from his face, holding his hair back against his scalp, and try again. Better. “Jean?”

He opens his eyes halfway, and they raise lazily to meet mine. He’s sweaty everywhere and too late I catch myself stroking his head. I wipe his cheek next.

“Drink some tea, okay? I need you to take a pill.”

“Pillk?”

“Yes,” I say encouragingly, like training a puppy. Neck next. “Just a pill.”

He takes in a deep mouth breath. There’s a portrait stuck to the ground on the other side of his bed.

Is that…

“I can’t.”

My eyes snap back and I pause, dabbing at his collarbone. “What’s that?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as if the action took too much effort. “Can’t… swallow. Can’t swallow pills.”

I blink. “You can’t take pills?”

A fleeting smile meets his lips. “Vitamin gummies. Not. Vitamin pills. Might get stuck in m’throat.”

I fold up the cloth into a rectangle and smooth it out onto his forehead. “Just take some tea with it.”

“Tried. No.”

Who knew? For a guy with such a big mouth, he sure has a small esophagus.

“Jean, it’ll make you feel better.”

“No.”

I pop open the box and break open the tinfoil seal to take out a single pill.

“Noo…”

“Jean, you’ll be fine. You’re a big boy now.” And I vow never to speak again.

When I push the little oval against his mouth, I find it won’t open. Jean is breathing laboriously through his 90 percent clogged nostrils.

“Open up.”

He purses his lips, further preventing entry, and I swear he’s smiling a little.

“Very funny. Take your pill. You’re gonna suffocate yourself.”

Still nothing. I pinch his nose. He makes a muffled noise but otherwise doesn’t react.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. At thirty-three I let go. “Are you really willing to kill yourself over a pill?”

“Don’t want. Don’t need.”

“Yeah, and I ‘don’t need’ you choking over your own puke in your sleep.”

“No…”

“Jean.” I feel terrible already for doing it like this. “Try. If you don’t at least try, I’ll leave.”

I bite my lip, awaiting his response. I really shouldn’t have said that. I’m such an asshole. Fuck.

“Okay.”

Deep breath. I push the pill against his bottom lip and the soft tissue yields against my fingers for a moment before he opens. The mug is to his lips not a moment after; he gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing, and the tea in his mouth suddenly explodes out and sprays warmly all over my face.

All. Over.

I peel my eyes open after impact. Jean looks more awake than he did before, and with a discernible expression, too: terror.

Okay. Good!

Slowly, he reaches for the sweat-soaked cloth on his head and offers it to me. I shake my head.

“Be right back.”

Bathroom. Cold water. Cold water against my face. There’s two razors on the sink and the edges of the white surface have some hairs on them. Face hairs, I’m sure. I pray.

If whatever Jean has is contagious, I sure as hell have it now.

I turn the tap off and swipe the water from my face. Great. Okay. I bunch up my now-wet sweater. I can do this.

I re-enter the bedroom. Jean sits up a little straighter now, sipping in small increments. “Sorry.”

I put my sweater on the chair. “It’s okay.”

“I— really—”

“Jean, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine. I’ll get better.” Which is about the most complete sentence he’s said in a while.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t say anything. Almost unconsciously, I gravitate to his bed.

“You already did too much for me.”

“Nonsense.”

“Why do… you do this?”

Now that gets me thinking. Because you’re sick. Because I’m a good friend. Because you’re my guinea pig for Hospitality 101. Maybe all three.

My eyes trace back to the scribbled portrait on the other side of Jean’s bed and I take the cloth from his forehead.

Thousands upon thousands of excuses, and a singular truth.

“Because I like you.”

And I take my time going back to the bathroom.

Cold water. Cold water against my hands.

“Coming in.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” Jean clears his throat, almost inaudible against my beating heart. “Back at the party. Wasn’t… nothing.”

“Wasn’t all that much, either,” I say dryly. Hopefully he doesn’t notice how shaky my hands are. How shaky against his pallid skin.

Jean inhales and I can see the movement through his chest. “No. Wasn’t a lot.” He tilts his head up at a minuscule angle to scan my face, and maybe it’s the perspective, or the weird lighting, but I could swear he’s never looked at me like this before.

Except for that time.

“So I’d…” he swallows. “Like— like to have more.”

For a few seconds, it’s silent. For a few seconds, all that there is are his dim eyes and mine. For a few seconds, we fall into each other and tread water, sinking, fading…

I break our gaze and tremblingly pluck a tissue from a box on the ground; hold it to his nose. “Blow.”

He takes a shaky breath and obeys.

Fold. “Again.”

He shuts his eyes and blows.

“Again.”

He blows until his air gives out. I drop the spent tissue.

“Again?”

He shakes his head.

“Let’s try the pill.”

He nods and stares as I open the foil for a second time and pop the new one in my mouth.

He watches, confused, until a wave of realization seems to hit him.

He stays statue-still as I lean in, put a hand on the headboard on either side of his head.

His heat, like a barrier, raises the hairs on my skin. He cups my jaw. I cradle the side of his neck, and his pulse beats at a million miles a minute. The pill begins to dissolve.

Our mouths barely touch, and I make the final connection.

Jean is tall. Jean is arrogant. Jean will laugh at you when you fall.

But Jean has the softest lips, the sweetest mouth (even when he puked out a buffet no more than half an hour ago). Jean will melt like soft butter under your touch. Jean will accept your tongue, no questions asked, and retaliate with twice the vengeance.

Like I’ve been dreaming of since that brief moment at the party, I let my hand run insouciant through his hair. No eyes watching. No social boundary.

He gasps softly for air and I do the same, pulling his scalp so he tilts to meet me better with a small grunt. God, I fucking love his hair.

Now both of his iron-hot hands are on me, hooking under my shirt, running up and down, claiming every square inch, and I let mine fall from his neck down to his slick chest down to his stomach down to his abs. Other still planted firmly in his hair, pulling, twirling, pulling, and when I tug again Jean squeezes so hard, doubling down, suddenly hungry, suddenly a starving man. Wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me closer, I oblige, hooking a leg onto his bed, between his knees, and my thigh brushes against his still-damp T-shirt, and he groans softly into my mouth—

and swallows with an ulp!

and it’s over.

I stroke his throat as the pill goes down and he stares hollowly at me until it’s gone. I recline and smile.

“Is that enough for you?”

Unblinking, he pulls me down again.

�� ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Connie kicks the asphalt with his definitely real Gucci slides. “Are you done?”

“Shh!”

He shoots his friend a withering look — that is, as withering of a look that he can muster.

“This is creepy. And I’m cold. Can we at least—”

Sasha puts down her binoculars and shows him what a real killer glare is. He rolls his eyes and scans his phone. Eren’s sent a message to the matchmaker groupchat.

emo king🖤⛓️: are u sure this plan of urs worked out

emo king🖤⛓️: excuse me if this is harsh, but it’s probably the dumbest shit of ur dumbshit ideas

me: yeah try telling Sash that

sharmin ultra soft: Eren’s right. Chances are Jean puked and turned everyone off

intimidating woman: i think there’s a chance

emo king🖤⛓️: are u fr in on this mikasa

sashami: you guys shh the star coming

Sasha shoots him another look before putting her non-stalker scope away in preparation for the star of the day’s arrival.

“Whad’d I do?”

As far as he knows, Connie is doing everything right. He’d told everyone that he was sleeping over at Sasha’s. (Her idea.) And now it’s Monday, and it’s time for the star’s (code name) first class (and also Sasha’s), and now they’re sitting out in the cold like a couple of dumbasses watching the stairwell windows. (Also her idea.) What the heck?

“I’m going in the car,” Connie grumbles. He doesn’t wait for the inevitable retort and climbs in to the drivers’ seat.

The car. The one silver lining to this whole ordeal. He’d eaten, put his feet up in, and used up every last drop of gas on this baby and Jean couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

But the person coming through the door isn’t their star. It’s Jean. Huh?

Connie pops out of the vehicle and joins up with Sasha.

“Oh— you’re here, too?” Jean’s brow furrows deeper. “What’s going on?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Connie grins. “Looks like you‘re doing a lot better.”

“No thanks to you lot.”

“Where are you going?” Sasha pipes in, and he knows what’s coming next. She’s using her interviewer voice.

“Just… going to class.” Jean smacks Connie’s shoulder. “Keys?”

He produces them with a flourish and a jangle and the taller takes them, unlocking the car.

Beep beep!

Sasha casually tails him, twisting around to block the driver’s side door.

“Sash.”

“Were you a good host?”

“I mean, I was really sick.”

“You have actual, proper food, right? Did you feed your dear caretaker?”

“Uh…” he smirks. “Yeah.”

“Is your room clean?”

“It’s fine!”

“Did you sleep together?”

He rolls his eyes and wedges a hand between his car and the girl. “Okay, get out.”

“Answer my question!” Sasha cries as she stumbles back and Jean hops in. Without another word, the car backs out. Jean turns and comes forward so he’s perpendicular to the parking spot before lowering his window.

“Connie! You owe me 20!” And then he’s gone.

Dumbfounded, the boy looks to Sasha, finding her staring at her phone. “What’s wrong? You on your period?”

“Oh, fuck off. Look.”

star: sorry sash,, not coming to hospitality. i got sick :(

star: jeans staying home for me tho. dont wait up <3

And the mastermind screenshots the fruits of her labour.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

would you look at that. more kissing. *throws tomato* i did 80% of this in one day. no regrets!! (said eren.) (ill shut the fuck up now) i hope you enjoyed! it actually turned out a lot less gross than i originally planned (they were gonna do it with the nyquil ewwwww) but this is fine. right? i never actually kept a pill on my tongue like that for so long so for my sanity's sake let's pretend this is how it all works.

this started out as a oneshot. however,,, i decided to add more parts to it because i'm a sucker. check it out if you like! <3

byebye

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

masterlist part 2 - low tide

[2kiran]

I read through your rules and i think my request should be fine but even so, please let me know if you don't wanna write it!

If you're still doing requests... can you write something for Price x male reader where Reader's a bit younger than him and he's never drank before ever. And he hides it to not seem like a loser or anything (lol) but when the team goes out drinking after a mission he gets served higher alcohol content bc they thought he'd be a heavy drinker?

No smut, just maybe hurt/comfort and fluff? Ignore this if you wouldn't like to <3

꒦⁺ DRUNK (NOT AGAIN) —— JOHN PRICE

modified 30.08.24 | HURT/COMFORT

content ˖ ࣪ ˖ affectionate price, male reader, may be read as platonic or romantic, reader is 2+ years younger, descriptions of injuries, mentioned violence, tf141 included, insecurity (love, towards r), drinking, tipsy reader, crying (r), kissing & hugging

The mission was successful. The medevac helicopter was arriving soon, allowing time for a small discussion. Only minutes prior, it was havoc, alerting all of you. The enemy had set a trap, causing a few fuck-ups on your side.

Soap clutched at his side with a cloth, “Aye cap, think we can go for some drinks ‘fter this?” He let out a pained grunt when he applied too much pressure.

Price sighed in response, opening a box in the deserted warehouse that had the necessary equipment for a few stitches. “As long as you don’t pass out right now.”

Gaz sent a wary glance at their way, dabbing a cotton that was soaked in antibiotic ointment on his slashes. Ghost, who stayed in his own corner, only had a few small cuts. Your own injuries were long forgotten as you registered their words.

The problem with their agreement was that you’ve never drank, not even one sip. Ever displaying a good image of yourself, you didn’t want to find out how you were when you’re drunk. Alcoholic beverages have never been one of your interests. Being aware of the fact that people who were younger than you spent their precious time clubbing and drinking away their problems without a care made it worse.

You didn’t want anyone to view you negatively for that, especially them. That included not telling a single soul and rejecting invitations to parties. You just didn’t want to be seen as a ‘kill joy’ when you tell them that you’ve never touched alcohol.

It also meant avoiding questions from drunkards and lying when they’re pestering you too much. The constant ‘what if’s of being just average ate away at your brain. You didn’t want your team to see you as a good-for-nothing loser that they could easily discard at any given time. Maybe if you left they—

“Hey.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey.”

One, two, three, four seconds pass.

“Look at me.” You blinked.

Your vision refocused, blurry gaze dissipating. You had zoned out. Price stood in front of you, urging you to tilt your head to look up at him. The blinding lights hung on the ceiling, leaving prominent shadows across the room. The silhouette gracefully traced over his features.

The both of you were in the infirmary, all patched up and wounds cleaned. Left alone together, away from the others. “Sorry. You were saying?” You asked, embarrassed warmth spreading across your cheeks.

A ghost of a smile quirked from his cheeks, “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse from exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” You slightly stumbled over your words as an ache from your side had you stilling. He nodded, eyes traveling over your form. His usual sharp eyes softened upon continuing his inspection of you as if you were made of extra fragile porcelain. The certain look in his eyes and how his attention lingers on you could be compared on how he stares at his precious hat for far too long.

“We’re going to a bar. You joining, love?” A tentative question, which makes you ponder on answering. You hum in agreement, not wanting to ruin the moment.

-

Maybe you should’ve rejected the offer like you always did.

The bar was dimly-lit, lights darting throughout the space, while slow, almost seductive music danced from the speakers. There were several people in the bar, including the bartenders. All harboring the same mysteriousness that you took for suspicion. It wasn’t quiet, booming laughter erupted from some, while the rest had their voice hushed in a whisper. Most of them were drunk, you noted.

“Finally.” Soap dramatically sighed, stretching his arms as he chooses a booth.

“It’s really been that long?” Gaz responded in a question to soap’s enthusiasm. Surprisingly, Ghost joined. He wasn’t going to drink for the sake of privacy, of course, the sergeants just managed to convince force him. The three sat close to each other while you and price were next to one another. It made you tingle in anticipation and fright.

A waiter approached, and they all responded with ‘something heavy’. You gulped nervously, telling the man the same thing.

Every minute that passed had you fidgeting, made you begin to bounce your leg up and down as you waited and waited and waited. You itched to tell them the truth, but you’ll only look like a coward. The others spoke about nonsense and such, while the captain’s attention was on you.

He was aware that something was wrong, but he couldn’t point his finger at what it could be. The impulsive side of his brain wanted to ask you directly, right here in front of the team. But he knew how closed off and irritable you could get in situations like these, so he rather keep his mouth shut.

The waiter arrived with your drinks on a tray, foam sizzling and a dented lemon on the rim of the glass. It whiffed of high worth, the house of the liquid appearing expensive itself. The stem was thinner than you originally thought it would be. It was appetizing, and you start to understand why people spend their time on drinking this. However, you’ve heard of people’s first times, most of them stating that it tasted bitter in the beginning.

The sergeants grabbed their drinks like starving animals, nearly spilling it on themselves. You examined their expression, their brows furrowed as they gulped down the first few sips before their face relaxed.

“Feeling drunk yet?” Soap questioned, gaze directed towards the captain. He began sipping away at his too, seemingly unbothered by all of the alcoholic content. He pulled away from his glass, “Could have this all day.”

“You gonna drink that?” His monotone voice suddenly placed its attention on you. Responding with a ‘right’ before gripping the glass, you copy the way they were holding it.

One taste couldn’t hurt, right?

Unknowingly, you did it a little too eagerly.

“Yeaaah! That’s the spirit.” Soap cheered on and Gaz let out a giggle at that. Ghost’s focus was on scanning the room for suspicious activity that could possibly harm all of you. Price thankfully wasn’t paying attention on you for once.

You could definitely get used to not having to tolerate him stupidly looking at you like you wronged him. They downed their drinks and you followed suit.

It was a rash decision, you soon learned, as your body began feeling warm. Even if it was the slightest of breathing, you could pick up on it. And is it just you or is the music a lot louder than before?

The reality crashed down on you, hitting you like a truck. You were always awfully attempting to please others, but you’ve never thought if that’s what you truly wanted. You feel like a loser. Drinking even though you knew you didn’t want to.

With you being painfully unaware in the state you were in, Price took notice in the change of behavior. Your eyes were watering and your lips were subtly trembling.

Everything felt too overwhelming, too loud, too bright. It was all too much for you. Barely mumbling a ‘I’m going to the restroom’ before you practically sprinted to the only place you could possibly find comfort. They didn’t seem to hear over their obnoxious argument about which weapon was superior and what sucked ass.

Price waited a few minutes, and then telling the group that he needed to use the toilet too. He noticed that you were stumbling in your footing, strange for someone who’s drank a lot more than this. You were only halfway through your drink before you seemed out of it. Maybe it was because of how long your missions lasted, making your tolerance become a little skimpy. It was even weirder to him how you left the door ajar.

Believing that you were alone, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your tears began streaming down your cheeks, lightly huffing in pained breaths. You despised this feeling.

Price carefully pushed the door open, exposing your vulnerability to your captain. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped. Quickly realizing your mistake in forgetting to lock the door, but it was too late.

“Love...” he began, eyes boring into yours in concern. Striding towards you, he hugged you from behind. A staring contest made from the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffed, trying to wipe away your tears but failing as more spilled, “I-I can’t—I’ve, I’ve never drank before and I-I wanted to impress you all.” He stopped himself from immediately speaking about how you would be always perfect despite something so little as not drinking, letting you continue, “I d-didn’t tell you be-because,” a hiccup, “I tho-thought you’d see me as a good-for-nothin’.” Sobs wrecked through your being shamefully as you slurred your words.

“Love.” He said firmly as you opened your mouth to apologize, preventing the words from escaping you. “The team and I would never belittle you.” He kisses your cheek, rubbing your sides to soothe you with his thumbs. “Nothin’ wrong with it, okay? It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.” Another kiss, using his knuckle to wipe away stray tears, “don’t ever be afraid to speak up ‘bout somethin’ like this.”

You hiccuped more, guilt searing within. He doesn’t stop talking yet.

“Stop feeling guilty about it. There’s no shame in that, others who think otherwise are just little shits. You’re better than them.” He kissed your jaw, ever showering you with affection in any way he was able to. He grabbed your hand, holding it to intertwine his fingers with yours. He tilted his head back up to kiss the trail of wetness on your cheek, hushing your weak sobs gently.

“Let’s go order some food, yeah? And we should get some water too to help the tipsiness. Just let me know if you want to try drinking again so I can help you through it. C’mon, love.” A smile spreads across his lips when your eyes light up in appreciation. He was happy that he had you as much as you were happy to have him.

If soulmates existed, he was yours.

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

i was watching the movie again and went "...wait a second" at the designs of The Gammas (or Gamma Mu Mu). i looked up trivia and couldn't find anything to confirm (or deny, i guess) my thoughts, so i guess?? this is a theory? (someone with a DVD/Bluray version, please check the Special Features for me to see if anyone mentions this. i have no idea) i'm surprised i haven't seen this parallel thrown around more but yeah, i think im onto something if this is a new thought in the Goofy Movies fanbase lol

sorry for the low quality of the image, ill type the transcript up in the post to make up for how blurry my text is. there just isn't a lot of pictures of these guys, period, much less that i could find of this specific scene so i could make my point

but yeah, my theory is The Gammas are all based off the classic villains in the Mickey-Donald-Goofy multiverse (plus Bigfoot, but i know many people noticed the redhead member of the Gammas is just "a shaved down version of Bigfoot" from the first "A Goofy Movie" lol)

(also, im a novice at learning about this extended Mickey-Donald-Goofy multiverse, im still new to the Carl Banks comics and havent seen all the media. so forgive me if im wrong at any point and please kindly correct me ♡)

so there's:

named: Bradley Uppercrust III — no idea if he is based off of anyone

named: Tank — based off of: Pete / Peg Leg Pete (but make him unrelated to PJ, basically) (hence, why he looks the least like his source, if im correct. he has a shirtless scene where he's revealed to have a farmer's tan, that i think you could argue is a very subtle nod that would have been slightly closer to a Pete-like coloration. but yeah, if im right, they had to make Tank's pallette lighter ao he wouldn't be mistaken as a relative of PJ's)

unnamed bearded member — based off of: the main Beagle Boys trio (Babyface) (Bigtime) (if you don't know the lore: there's a lot of Beagle Boys as the gag is they're a BIG family, but the main trio in the original "Ducktales" show is the first set of parentheses. the second set of parentheses is their names in the classic Ducktales comics. both the original "Ducktales" show and the reboot "Ducktales" show features both sets of the trio/s though. though the Carl Barks version of the comics preferred the route of "they go by their prison-numbers rather than their names". also, inbetween the two "Ducktales" TV shows, a lot of Disney media just merged the two trios into one kind-of-amorphous trio, as far as i can tell, like with "Mickey, Donald, and Goofy: the Three Muskateers". but still, they're part of a HUGE family who tend to be clones of said main trio. but i digress. they're a confusing family lmao rip)

unnamed member wearing sunglasses — based off of: the main Beagle Boys trio (Bankjob) (Bouncer) (i like to think his sunglasses (and i guess also the unnamed bearded member's glasses, but mainly these sunglasses) as a homage to the Beagle Boys' black masks lol)

named: Slouch — based off of: the main Beagle Boys trio (Bugle) (Burger) (also: im entirely banking off differentiating Bugle/Burger to Slouch and Bankjob/Bouncer to sunglasses-guy on how Bugle is commonly reffered to as "a hipster" and i personally associate fedoras with a similar type of crowd. i could have those mixed up tho, idk, neither of these guys even have any lines lol but i do like the idea that maybe the fedora is flipped like that as a reference to the Beagle Boys' billed caps? idk, that might be a stretch) (i would also like to mention i hc these guys are The Beagle Brats now in college-age, who are an unnamed trio that goes by "1, 2, and 3" in the comics but, from what i can tell, that the Beagle Brats in general (not 1, 2, and 3 specifically) were first seen(?) in the "Ducktales" original show (who also have a v small cameo in the reboot) that were meant to parallel the triplets Huey and Dewey and Louie; these specific ones im talking about the nephews of the general-amorphous-main-trio of Beagle Boys, but it is possible to call any Beagle Boy who is young a Beagle Brat. but, yeah, i have no basis for why i think Slouch and the other two are specifically the Beagle Brats 1, 2, and 3; that's entirely headcanon)

unnamed member that's a redhead — based off of: Bigfoot in "A Goofy Movie" (again, i know a lot of people caught this one lmao)

unnamed member that has black hair — based off of: Mortimer Mouse (who was once also known aa Montmorency Rodent/Rodawn, but they've been retconned into being the same character by now, but that'a a tangent.) (if you don't know the lore: Mortimer is a bit complicated to describe? but the tldr is that he's basically Mickey's love-rival for Minnie. to go more in depth though, uh, he's more wealthy, usually, and claims to be "in love" with Minnie Mouse but is also a jerk and she generally does not have any interest in him (well, unless the plot the writer wants includes a love-triangle). Pete is usually considered a more recognizable villain, so Mortimer rarely shows up, esp since Pete can be easily be written as also harboring feelings for Minnie. so sometimes shows re-write Mortimer from this personality so he is more distinct, sometimes as a toxic friend of Mickey's or overall bad influence but well-intentioned; so the character has some flexibility. but i know him best, as do many others, via his "House of Mouse" recurring role where he'd show up just to try to break Mickey and Minnie up or otherwise flirt with any female guests. i think he works well in competition wirh Pete, who has more of a Goliath-and-David relationship with Mickey when Mickey and Pete are antagonistic, as Mortimer is an antagonist that is just as clever and capable as Mickey (if not more so, since he is clever, competent, and generally wealthy enough to have more resources than Mickey) but does not have Mickey's sincerity or good intentions. though i dont mind how kid shows re-write him either, i think toxic friends and bad influences are good lessons for children to learn. i like Mortimer being a frenemy who has good intent but bad follow-through lol but anyway, thank you for allowing me this debatably-overexplanation of Mortimer since he's my favorite and also, uh, the only one here where #1 he isnt in the Goofy Movie series and ergo may not be known to others, #2 has a consistent personality beyond "bad guy in story" i can talk about unlike the Beagle Boys trio/s and their huge extended family of might-as-well-be-clones, and #3, again, he's my favorite if you couldnt tell lol) (also, i do think you could argue this unnamed character's quiff is a nod to Mortimer's mouse-ears tho, since there's a curve and all. and then the idea he has some stubble as a possible ref to Mortimer's whiskers is hilarious to me if my theory has water and he was intentionally designed after Mortimer lmao)

anyway, i apologize again if this idea has been discussed before. i really did try to google if anyone was spreading the same idea that The Gammas are just a fun College AU-Variant of these guys already

+ bonus, since i mentioned them, The Beagle Brats:

please let me know if you think the idea has merit, and especially let me know if Bradley is a reference to anyone (tho i can also fully buy Bradley being original to this movie!) thanks so much for reading ♡

ps. i am dyslexic so do forgive me for any misspellings. i am editing this unseriously from my phone ✌️

[lcs-library]

(i really love your writing, so im very excited to see that requests are open! also, do you write the menus yourself? if so, thats so cool!! i love the aesthetic so much)

could i ask for an apple danish with tsumugi? and off of the normal menu, a black tea as well (still w tsumu), please. there's so many i wanna request lol, thanks in advance <3

AWAWAWAWA TY GOMPY I'M SO PLEASED EHEHE.... And yes! I write the menus myself, but the images and stuff I use are usually from @.saradika-graphics. That said I can assure you I spent a good two hours poring over a bunch of barista blogs and reddit threads to come up with the new menu and try to think up prompts www... Anyway! Please enjoy!!

Request rules | Cafe menu | Autumn menu

Apple Danish: They bring you/their s/o/their friend to an orchard! How does it go? 

🥚I think Tsumu would have a great time in an orchard! 

🥚He’d be so happy to be surrounded by all the pretty trees, calmly picking apples with you.

🥚“Do you think this one’s good? It’s a bit on the small side, though… but it’s cute. You think so, too? Let’s take it home, then!”

🥚He’s no Omi, but he seems like the type of guy who knows exactly what to look for when it comes to fruit, and every single thing he picks tastes incredible. 

🥚He’s also def the kind of guy who just takes leaves and rubs them between his fingers because Texture. When he thinks you’re not looking, he’ll be caressing the branch and rubbing the leaves as he loses himself in thought. 

🥚“Hm? Ah, I didn’t realize you were there! Sorry, I should be holding your hand, not the tree’s, right? …There we go. Is that better?”

🥚The next day, his phone’s camera roll is filled to the brim with a bunch of blurry photos of you wwww

🥚“Even if they don’t look the best, you have to admit, the blurred colors look nice together, right? We can call it abstract art.” 

Black Tea: How do they comfort their s/o?

🥚When you’re feeling down, I promise Tsumu knew how you felt ten seconds before you did, and is already by your side. 

🥚“Dear, did something happen, are you alrigh- Oh. Come here, sit by me.”

🥚He’s the perfect gentleman, too. 

🥚You want space? He’ll give you space, but not without making you a cup of tea first.

🥚You want a hug? He’s so gentle with you, as if you’ll shatter to pieces if he squeezes too hard.

🥚You’re not sure what you need? That’s alright, you can take your time, he’ll happily sit by your side and rub your back until you’re ready to talk again. 

🥚Once you are, he’ll gently guide you through your feelings, and help you cope(he’s not letting that psychology degree go to waste).

🥚“Will you tell me what happened, please? I promise I won’t laugh, and I definitely won’t be mad at you. I’m here to help, remember? We can do this together.”

🥚And of course, after everything’s over, and you’re calm at the very least, he’ll take his hand in yours, and give it a brief kiss before squeezing it tight.

🥚“I’m proud of you, dear. Never forget that, okay?”

🥚Weh……… the sweetie pie<3

[hazukiyouka]

Personal Impression on DMMD Flashback 2023

First of all, even though I could pass through the region block thingy, but I had to set the video quality on auto or else the buffering time would drive me mad. So the result was, sometimes I got a super clear images then suddenly could switched to blurry ones. Which is kinda annoying cause I couldn't focus on their faces. 🙃

Anyway, I'm not really good at writing in Tumblr, so probably I'll just straight out pointing my impressions. Yes, this is my personal take after watching Virus & Trip route live streaming. I'll try my best not to spoil everything. 😄

Nothing really changed at the first part of the story. It just brought back the memories. Except that it wasn't Seichan as Aoba. 🥲

I should say both Seichan and Nao had their hit-and-miss parts. And strangely I feel like they can complement each other. Like, there were some parts where I thought Seichan did it better, or vice versa.

Everyone who were back to their respective roles really upgraded their game. Since I was watching this route, I think Tominaga Yuya really brought out the "quiet madness" of Virus.

(A bit) SPOILER ALERT: this ViTri route covered their Re:connect bad end story. Yes, most of it.

The second part where the story branched was really DENSE!! It felt like they try to squeeze the entire ViTri bad end into a single scene. Well, of course we just couldn't ask for more "detailed scenes", are we? 😌

Even so, I think Nao did well in this. I want to praise him for his courage to go...... uhmm.... shirtless.... on stage.

The interpretative dance at "those scenes" was appealing to me. I mean, it felt delicate and kinda suppressing. I like Nao's expressions here, especially when his eyes started to went dead. Uumm, please excuse my do-S part... lol

The ending was just like the game where Aoba was resigned to his fate. After that, we got all casts dancing to EVIL MASCULINE song (in which we can see it roaming around Twitter).

Overall, I'm quite impressed with this new route and how they performed it. As for the casting, I still think that Nao will be more suitable in portraying Sly Blue. That boy is surely sharp. While Seichan was softer, but I felt that he was a little bit overdid in some parts.

And finallyyyy! Though I'm, myself, still quite biased to Seichan but so sorry that I won't tolerate any slanders toward Nao. He had worked so hard and did a great job in this. Thankfully, he seems pretty calm and stays positive. So let's be kind to him~ 💙

[anotherbluesunday]

✨Fic Update: In Technicolor—Ch.4: Play Both Sides (Bertie)✨

There weren't curated pictures of cheer practice or makeup routines. No glamourous travel vlogs or dances with siblings or friends. Actually, her account was almost void of any friends except for two people--Reggie and some guy named Kevin that she called her gay husband. I was pretty sure he was on the football team and that that was where I remembered him from. I always caught them coming up the stairs in their letterman jackets with Jason Blossom at the center and Reggie's squeeze, Archie joining them in his swim team hoodie. But other than them, the space was void of friends. There were blurry unfiltered pictures of her nightly adventures. Trips down to the beach. Short videos of Wynn walking the shores alone with the wind whistling while she sang to herself. Pictures of her orange tabby cat, Thing and her Siamese cat Lurch that groaned tiredly at the camera whenever she called its name.

My favorite was the reel of her resting her chin on Lurch as the fat cat purred and meowed with eyes closed. Smiling when she giggled, I shut myself up as the panicked scream gagged me when I, like an idiot, hit the heart icon on her video. Undoing the like, I laid there traumatized. Screamed internally as I stared blankly at the video. Fuck. Would she get a notification that I had liked her video? Or would taking back the like undo that?

Would it be weird to google that?

Her activity setting was on. I could tell because there was a green dot next to her default image. Not good. A half second later I got a notification that I had a new message. Definitely not good. Really not good. It was Wynn. In my DM's with the message reading "Bertie??" and nothing else. Bad. So bad. Now I really wanted to die. Staring at the message, another one followed it up a couple seconds later.

"Or not," she said. "Sorry."

Now I was the asshole. God damn it.

"No, yeah. It's me. Sorry, I diddn't see your message." I wrote out. Kicked myself mentally when I read it over a second time. "*didn't."

"lol. No worries. I saw your name on a notification so I snooped a little wondering if it was really you." Before I could type out a full response, Wynn added on, "You don't seem like the type to be on here often. Guess that's why it was a surprise."

She wasn't wrong. I wasn't really into it. "Was it that obvious? I have an ig account because it's how I keep in touch with my cousins and extended family that live in Texas and Mexico."

Looking up when Pugs smacked my hip and told me over my music that we were home, I told him I'd be in in a sec. Eyes back on the screen, I smiled dumb when I saw her next message.

"Mind if I add you??"

Bad but also good. So anxiety inducing.

.

.

.

[exastriis]

first of all, love your writing and art because asdfgh how could i not??

second of all, does alfred ever feel insecure about his and suzie's relationship? because of the possibility that she could (not that she would, but she has the option to) leave her assistant job and therefore both him and immortality (bc he might console himself w/being able to be w/her outside of the workspace, but if she turns herself entirely to mortality, then she could really then leave him in a way that he can do nothing about). just thought of this bc of how suzie seems to bear the brunt of wondering where they stand in their relationship (and i just like angst lol). anyways, love to know your thoughts & tysm for all your work in the hetalia fandom (and sorry for such a long ask lkjhg) <33

Thank you so much for the kind ask !! 💖💖💖 Never apologize, I love getting long asks dfhdv <3 and to answer your question, yes he does! I would hardly call Alfred an insecure person by any means, but his image of himself and what he stands for is a little… complicated, to say the least. He's simultaneously unaffected by his human emotional conflict because, well, "time heals all wounds", and what is a two week, month, year, decade skirmish to an immortal eldritch being? But at the same time, he is affected by it, because his image of himself is far too human in comparison to other Nations. By "far too human", I don't think he thinks in terms of mortality, no, but rather, in terms of vulnerability. Simply put, he's a sensitive bitch who wears his heart on his sleeve, LMAO. This is his one worry— that one day, someone will see the cracks in his perfectly carved out armor and use those against him. And Suzie? Well. Suzie's like an open wound.

For a little context, Alfred and Suzie confessed their feelings for one another sometime in the 1880s— during the death of the wild west followed by the roar of industrialization. Although, they only really realized that their fates were intertwined forever during the Civil War. It meant Alfred was going through it, emotionally, physically and mentally. His own people tearing each other apart meant he was tearing himself apart from the inside, and even then, when he was trying to figure out what to even do, Suzie stuck around. Even when he thought he must make one hell of a pathetic sight, when he could barely walk or stay conscious long enough to string a coherent thought together. He has faint, blurry memories of candlelight by his bedside, the cool wind of night and Suzie crying silently into their hands. Going a little further back, they had a much-too-long conversation in the late 1790s, when Suzie came clean to Alfred about essentially losing whatever connection she had with the rest of her family after the Revolution. It broke his heart. It didn't make him regret anything, though— God, no. But it did make his heart ache. He realized he'd come to care for her deeply then. He's not exactly had a good track record with regards to not getting attached to humans (see: Davie), and even though Suzie's not exactly mortal anymore, it's a bit more complicated considering she still had living immediate family who were. Up until then, Alfred was content to hold Suzie at arms length. He thought (and sometimes, still thinks) that perhaps he'd robbed her of a chance for a normal, fulfilling life. Despite their disagreements, they were steadfast, open-minded and cared deeply for everyone around them. Suzie was and remained tough, but not unfeeling, and he respected this highly. But he worked his way into her heart and she worked her way into his.

I think the main cause for Alfred's "insecurity" in the relationship, then, would have to be the fact that he doesn't feel like he's human enough to love them properly. He can never let his guard down. He can never not watch his back. He can never not be standing for something bigger than either of them. For the promise of a future— something so unsure. So it manifests in numerous ways to make up for it. Big, extravagant gifts, expressions of love and affection, you name it. Suzie has since learned to take Alfred's grand gestures as a sign to slow things down. They do appreciate the gesture, but what's wrong? They ask him to talk to them, and to talk to them honestly. Alfred doesn't think he's able to bare his heart completely to anyone but with Suzie, the words just spill out. He's never been too good with words— always talking too fast, too much, too loudly. But they listen. They always have. They've always believed in him and sometimes, when he thinks too hard about it, it hurts in his chest and his head and all over. And every time they squeeze his hand, their eyes meeting his with that all-too-familiar tenderness, he has to ground himself. He's here, his heart is beating, his world is right here and he— they'll be alright.

[therewillbedancing]

masterlist — rules — taglist form — request through my ask !

EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED . . ➯ CEDRIC DIGGORY

pairing: cedric diggory x f!reader | genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, some pining | warnings: cursing, bad writing lmfao | word count: 2,098

isha's notes: this is a long one lol i got VERY carried away .. <3 i started writing this at around 6pm and i'm now posting this at almost 12 midnight KJSKJS this is why i cannot, for the life of me, post a fic a day (i salute anyone who does !!!)

“you good to go?” y/n, previously lost in thought, tore her eyes away from the window of the train. she hurriedly slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up the sleeping calico beside her, “yeah, yeah, sorry.”

cedric diggory stood at the doorway of the compartment, a smirk resting on his lips. he clicked his tongue and shook his head as the two walked down the narrow hallway of the hogwarts express. “if i hadn’t come and looked for you, who knows where you’ll be once you get your head out of the clouds.”

cedric’s hot breath fanned the back of her neck as he spoke. “oh, what to do without you, diggory?” y/n scoffed, “you’ve had your head boy badge for no less than a day and think you’re some hero.”

“y/l/n, i’ve saved your ass a hundred times,” cedric retorted back as he jumped off the train onto the platform. he extended a hand towards her, “at this point, i should be a chocolate frog card.”

“fits because you are a total toad,” the girl snapped back, ignoring his outstretched hand and walked past the amused brunette. cedric soon caught up with her, placing a heavy arm over her shoulder making y/n wince. “tell me what you were thinking about?”

“ow, ced, take your bloody arm — wait!” y/n shouted out of the blue, taking cedric’s hand and dragging him towards the self-pulling carriage that was about to leave for the castle. they sprinted as fast as their legs could while waving their hands frantically.

y/n can hear cedric’s breathless giggles as he holds her hand tighter. she looked over at him. the yellowy white glow of the moon looming big in the clear september night sky made his face look … warmer, contrasting the chilly breeze flowing past them as they ran hand in hand. cedric looked back at her, eyes bright and smiling. maybe that’s where all the stars went, she thought.

the two out of breath teenagers finally settled in the carriage after an earful from professor mcgonagall about punctuality. cedric and y/n shared a glance before bursting in laughter, ignoring the weirded out glances the two second years in they shared the carriage with threw at them.

that night, y/n lay wide-eyed in her bed, her mind racing with thoughts about the upcoming school year: the arrival of the durmstrang and beauxbatons kids and the triwizard tournament. as she pictured the image of the brunette under the moonlight, she thought maybe her sixth year was the start of something new.

all i knew, this morning when i woke, is i know something now, know something now i didn’t before.

y/n awoke that wednesday morning with flushed cheeks, eyes blinking uncontrollably as she tried to recall the slipping memory of her dream. they played back in fast motion, blurry and confusing. she was unable to focus on a certain still frame other than the feeling of her best friend’s hand stroking her hair, his soft lips finding its home on her forehead. she could still hear the echo of his voice saying something incomprehensible but filling her heart with warmth nonetheless.

she dashed towards the bathroom in their dorm ignoring the questions from her roommates. cold water trickled down her face as she rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the image of cedric diggory’s smile at the back of her eyelids.

“what the fuck,” y/n whispered under her breath as she stared at herself on the mirror. “what the fuck.”

“you okay, y/n?” emily, one of her roommates, called from the other side of the door. “we’re heading down for breakfast now.”

“yes, i’m fine!” y/n shouted back, patting her face dry with a towel, “i’ll just catch-up with you guys at the great hall.”

i just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now.

ever since her dream, cedric looked and felt like a different person. y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly why his grey eyes looked dreamier or how his voice seemed to be laced with honey or how his touch felt like there were supernovae exploding on her skin. she had known the boy since they were little, wide-eyed and without a care in the world. he was just cedric — the golden boy of hogwarts, kind, brave, irresistibly handsome…

y/n shook her head slightly.

“this —” george bellowed out of nowhere causing y/n to jump in her seat, the ham from her club sandwich falling on the grass, “— is a gift for you, dear friend.”

“my ham is ruined!” y/n huffed as she looked at the sad-looking piece of meat. angelina, who sat beside her, chuckled as she patted her back.

“we’re sorry about that, but we bet you a hundred galleons that this is better!” said fred, occupying the space beside her. in his hands was a red box filled with what appeared to be sweets individually wrapped in colorful packaging. “take one, y/n.”

y/n looked at the twins sternly, cautiously dipping her hand into the box. “if this is one of your joke products, i swear to god i’m going to punch the smirks out of your faces.”

“shiver me timbers,” george mocked, a sly smirk on his face. “go on, y/n/n. try one!”

y/n took a piece, unwrapping it slowly to reveal a bright dual-colored pastille with a citrusy grape scent. she was about to bite off the orange-colored side when it suddenly flew from between her fingertips to a good few meters behind them.

“i just saved you from spilling your guts all over your herbology textbook,” cedric diggory, dashing as ever, stood in front of the small group. he held his wand in front of him, suggesting that he was the one who sent the pastille flying. he sat himself on the grass, picking up the discarded candy wrapper. “puking pastilles.”

“what a spoilsport,” fred exclaimed.

“we were just trying to test our products!” added george.

“on your unsuspecting friend?” cedric questioned.

“oh, come on, diggory. a classic weasley prank won’t do harm on your girlfriend,” fred teased, high-fiving with his giggling twin. angelina, who was trying to hide her laughter at cedric’s and y/n’s expressions, nudged the girl teasingly.

“sod off, weasley,” y/n exclaimed.

she threaded her fingers together, distracting herself from cedric’s burning gaze. her cheeks were a shade of pink from fred’s remark so she couldn’t show her face. as far as she knows, cedric was no legilimens but it felt like he could read his mind if she ever so slightly meet his eyes.

and all my walls stood tall painted blue; but I'll take 'em down, take 'em down and open up the door for you.

cedric and y/n sat on a bench at the courtyard. cedric was laying on his back, his head cradled on y/n’s lap as she read a muggle book. it was the night after the intense first task which cedric has graciously came out well and alive. the victory party had died down a little and the two friends decided to go out for a breather, the dancing and drinking tiring their bones but still refusing to call it a night.

“i’m scared,” cedric confessed. slightly taken aback, y/n put her book down. she looked at his face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks devoid of its usual rosy tint. his grey eyes stared at the star-studded night sky, fearful and uncertain.

y/n stroke his hair gently. “i know, and i am too,” cedric closed his eyes, “the tournament … we knew it’s going to be difficult and treacherous, but i believe in you, ced. we’re going to get through this together.”

cedric wasn’t one to open up to people. despite his polite and friendly reputation, he was mostly a closed book. he grew up with the promise and pressure of greatness, holding his father’s and the school’s expectations on his shoulders. it was hard to show weakness when every one thought of you as strong.

but it was different with y/n. with her, there was no need to hide.

cedric opened his eyes. he met her gaze causing butterflies to erupt in her stomach. the longer he held her gaze, more and more appeared as they began to rise to her lungs making it harder to breathe.

god was he beautiful. so beautiful that she wanted to kiss him right then and there.

that’s your best friend, for godric’s sake.

cedric chuckled, shifting his eyes back to the stars. fuck, y/n thought. he’s reading my mind, i swear —

“you’re looking at me like that again,” he said.

“like what?”

“like you want to kiss me,” cedric answered. “trust me, i know, because i look at you that way too.”

‘cause all i know is we said ‘hello’, and your eyes look like coming home.

“i’ll see you after potions?” cedric asked as y/n sat with her friends in the great hall.

“yep, so we can finally figure out that stupid egg together,” y/n nodded, returning his smile before walking back to the hufflepuff table.

fred cleared his throat, “are you done ogling at your best friend?”

y/n sent him a pointed look, “what is it with you, fred?”

“you and diggory are the daftest, shallowest people in all of the wizarding world,” fred exasperated.

“cedric is the golden boy of hogwarts and you’re at the top of our year yet you two are the biggest idiots i know,” george added. “and that’s saying something because ronald weasley is my brother.”

“and … ?”

george sighed in frustration, “you painfully obviously fancy each other!”

y/n chuckled nervously, returning her attention to her lunch. “you’re talking out of your arse, weasley.”

“look, has he asked you out to the yule ball?” fred inquired as he leaned closer to the girl. y/n only stared at him without a word. “he has not? oh, he’s really stupid.”

“that’s not a problem,” george said, licking gravy off the back of his spoon. “you should ask him, y/n. we live in modern times, there’s no shame in that.”

y/n sighed, adjusting her posture. “i’m already going with someone, for your information. and if you excuse me, i want to eat my lunch in peace.”

all i know is you held the door, you’ll be mine and i’ll be yours.

she felt magical.

y/n stared at her reflection on the bathroom mirror, a big grin on her lips.

“y/n/n, you look so gorgeous,” emily complimented, tucking some of her lose hair behind her ear.

y/n faced her friend and enveloped her in a tight hug, “you too, emmy. i’m so excited for tonight.”

“i know! how lucky we are to be able to be in hogwarts during the yule ball,” emily remarked as they headed out of their common room.

at the top of the staircase stood cedric diggory. he looked so good just standing there in his black dressing gown and neatly styled brown hair. he had his hands clasped together, looking around apprehensively.

emily nudged y/n, nodding at the boy’s direction. “go, i’ll see you later.”

y/n smiled before heading towards her best friend. she drew a deep breath, “hey, ced.”

enamoured, cedric’s smile grew and his previous anxious feeling melted away. he held his arms open for a hug which she instantly accepted. “you look enchanting.”

“are you flirting?” y/n teased.

cedric smirked. “i have been since fourth year, dummy.”

“oh, shut it,” y/n scoffed as they descended down to the great hall. the pair found their place among the other champions and their dates, waiting for the opening dance.

shortly, the large doors to the great hall swung open. it was beautiful, the white christmas theme making the castle even more wondrous.

“you good to go?” cedric asked. y/n nodded slightly, linking her arms with his as they entered the great hall.

y/n met fred’s and george’s eyes, flashing them a smirk and a wink. their mouths were wide open contrasting angelina’s wide grin.

the pair reached the middle of the hall. a slow song began to reverberate through the room, the world disappearing as cedric and y/n met each other's eyes.

all i know since yesterday is everything has changed.

[iraprince]

i'm still getting the actual raffle info together (and it might take me a bit since i'm busy ;w;) BUT i'm so stoked that i at least wanted to get this little preview up!! (i promise the standard pngtuber wouldn't be blurry lol. i was having technical difficulties)

also i was rattling this off w/o a script lol BUT obviously the standard pngtuber would be compatible w any pngtubing method u wanna use, not just discord reactive scripts/plug ins! anything u can plug images into like veadotube mini etc. the second option is honk compatible only!

also as a heads up -- i know somebody had asked during the stream, but after looking over my options for organizing this i think that when this giveaway is up i'll be running it on my vtubing twitter only. sorry for the inconvenience!!! 🙏🏼 i'll still announce it over here when the giveaways are live so you can all go check it out

[thetaekookcloset]

Do you think TK will still do FS on their Busan Concert given how everyone knows now that he is dating a girl.

Oh my god lol. Normally I would just delete this, but I have been thinking about giving an update on my thoughts about this whole thing, so here we go, I guess.

To answer your actual question: yes. Jungkook and Taehyung have the relationship that they have regardless of what I think about it. Right now I think it's likely that they're in a romantic relationship, because that's how I interpret their interactions, but if my interpretation is wrong, that doesn't change those interactions. I can't imagine that people knowing that one or both of them are actually dating women would affect them in that way. I would assume they would continue to act as they've always done, both on and offstage.

To talk more generally about this situation and your evident assumption that we all know Taehyung is dating a woman now: I personally remain unconvinced.

Frankly I think that under normal circumstances, we wouldn't even be giving this "leak" account the time of day. It's a brand new account with no clarity around the source of the pictures, and lots of holes in the story. The only reason people are giving it any credibility is the lack of original photos, but that's not something we necessarily need to be able to see, depending on the way they're edited.

I didn't know as much about this a few days ago, but you can essentially use programs that compile images to create a new image, as long as you have enough material to draw on. Obviously with celebrities, there are so many photos to use to make those composite images from. You can even do it with video. I saw one yesterday where someone had replaced Julia Roberts's face in Pretty Woman with Willem Dafoe, it was wild. If someone can do that, someone could easily put blurry versions of Taehyung and Jennie's faces onto images of other people.

Basically, people can make something out of nothing, which means that the one clinch pin of this whole issue is essentially moot. The silence from the companies also makes more sense, as time goes on, if the photos are fake or of entirely different people.

And I just need to be petty for a moment because beyond the fact that the man in the third photo doesn't look much like Taehyung and you can't even see the girl's face well enough to know if she looks like Jennie, the people in that photo do not look like millionaires. No offense to the girl in the photo, whoever she is, but that is not the hair of a highly famous and successful popstar with millions of dollars at her disposal. And I'm sorry but the absolute audacity of claiming that Kim Taehyung, who wears designer lounge wear, would wear a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt that says "Pooh" on the sleeve and looks like it cost about $10 at Walmart -- I just can't buy it, I'm sorry.

Add to all of that the fact that the second photo has so many mistakes that are clearly visible, and I'm left thinking that this is mostly still developing out of a mix of wishful thinking and love of the drama.

If Taehyung and Jennie did happen to be dating, I don't think these images prove it in any regard, and to bring it full circle: whether they are or not, it doesn't change the relationship that Jungkook and Taehyung have anyway. If we ever see real proof of a romantic relationship between either of them with someone else, the only thing it will do is change the way I interpret their interactions.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Seven)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of erection, heated make out, marking, grinding, mentions of suicide:( (If this makes you uncomfortable pls skip), mentions of cheating, quick blowjob, swallowing,

Notes: sorry this chapter is shorter than the last! But we only have 2 chapters left guys! And they are long!!! Sorry in advance lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell

© taestefully-in-luv

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Jungkook runs his finger through your hair, his mouth hot on your neck as he leaves behind what feels like a million, slow kisses. You taste sweet and he’s reminded of the first time he got to do this with you and his heart swells at the memory. He feels you grind against him, making him impossibly harder as he grinds back. Your moans fill his ears and it sounds like a chorus of sweet, sweet music to him, he can’t help but grin into his kisses. Suddenly, the image of him kissing down your throat becomes blurry and the sound of your whines echo in the distance. He must be waking up.

Jungkook feels you hovering over him with shocked eyes and he can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into you. He can feel his head beginning to throb from the inevitable hang over that wishes to visit and he raises a hand over it. You continue to look down at him and that’s when he notices it. Them. The hickeys that spread across your skin and he goes absolutely pale.

He looks back at you with wide eyes but he can’t help but feel pride bloom all throughout his body as he looks at how he has marked you but those petals quickly shrivel up when he realizes how badly he must have messed up.

“Oh fuck.” He says under his breath.

“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’” you repeat back.

Jungkook lifts himself up, leaning on his arms as he takes another look at the bruises that cover your skin. He releases a shaky breath contemplating what to say.

“Drunk.” His eyes slide to the side, “We were really…drunk.”

You narrow your eyes for a split second then look at him with ease,

“Yeah…right…drunk.” You quickly agree.

Jungkook and you share a moment of a silence, admiring one another’s work on the other. You hesitantly reach out, your fingers coming in contact with the side of his neck, brushing against his soft skin.

“This ones huge…I’m sorry.” You say, not sounding entirely sorry. A slight smirk graces your features.

“Ha, you don’t look very sorry.” Jungkook grabs a hold of your hand, “Plus, you don’t even want to see what I did to you.”

You retreat your hand back to touch your own skin, you shuffle out of the sheets and stand from the bed. You walk towards the little mirror over by Jungkook’s closet and take a look.

You audibly gasp, the purple marks that spread across your neck and collarbone are ones for the books.

“What the hell Jeon! How am I supposed to walk out of here today! Everyone’s going to see this!” you gesture towards yourself. “Oh my god.” You turn back to look in the mirror. “This is horrible.”

Jungkook leaves the bed to join you at the mirror,

“Holy shit.” He looks at himself, “I’m not any better!” he throws his hands up but he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing! You watch in disbelief as he chuckles the fucking day away.

You watch him and you can’t help but start to laugh too. This is just so ridiculous.

“Wait wait…” Jungkook calms down, suddenly becoming serious. “We didn’t do anything else…right?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Shouldn’t you also remember?”

“You’re the girl! Can’t you like tell…if we…” He motions his hands between your bodies.

“Oh my god. No, we didn’t do anything else. Do you really not remember everything?” you ask with a frown.

“I feel like I do…but I was just being you know, sure.”

Jungkook wishes he could remember everything in great detail but the reality is he was really drunk and some moments are hazier than others. Which is a fucking shame because he wants to remember the first moment you caressed his skin to his lips on yours.

“Do you remember everything?”

“I remember enough.” You admit.

You were drunk, yes. But the memory of you and Jungkook is almost crystal clear and fresh in your mind.

“Bottom line is…we were really drunk and drunk people do stuff like that all the time.” Your hands go to your hips, “I mean, I’ve literally made out with Trina before. Don’t feel special.” You wink, your tone is light and teasing and Jungkook finds you amusing.

“Just two drunk idiots.” Jungkook grins. “So no acting weird.”

“I won’t be weird, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.” He chuckles.

“I’m serious Jungkook, we can be cool about this…” you give him a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t—”

“Stop…” Jungkook lifts his hand up, “I get it.” He chuckles awkwardly.

Your small smile fades, your heart pinches. He never wants to talk about it, did he hate it that much?

“Right…” You begin walking closer towards him and he steps back, your heart pinching once again. “Well, lend me a fucking turtle neck or something so I can get outta here.”

Jungkook smirks down at you as he walks to his closet.

“Fine. Hopefully I have two…I have a black and a white one right?” he asks you from inside his closet.

“Shit, I think I have your white one at my place…”

“I don’t think Nick owns any…”

“Why do you need one? Just stay home today.”

“I’m supposed to meet Vanessa later…”

Your heart doesn’t just pinch this time, it sinks. Deep down into your lower belly until its falling to the ground.

“Oh.”

“I’ll find a scarf or some shit.”

“I’ll bring you your white one, don’t worry.”

“Really? Thanks y/n.” Jungkook walks out of his closet smiling at you, his black turtle neck draped over his arm. “Here.” He hands it over to you.

“Turn around.”

Jungkook raises a brow at you until realization hits him.

“Okay.” He whispers out.

You quickly change into the long sleeve shirt and let Jungkook know he can turn back around.

“I feel like I should make you breakfast or something…” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, standing here awkwardly.

“Really Jungkook?” you laugh out, “And what would you make me?”

“I think Nick has some toaster waffles.” Jungkook offers with a grin.

“I’m good. I’m gonna head out but I will be back with your shirt!”

“Sounds good, I’ll walk you out.”

You two nod at one another, exiting the bedroom and walking towards the front door. You stop to say goodbye and Jungkook steps into your space, wrapping his arms around you.

“See you in a bit.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You pull back and smile at him. “See you in a bit.”

~~~~~

“Why the fuck are you wearing a black turtle neck in the middle of August?”

It’s Trina, if you haven’t guessed. It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, she is over to hang with Holly you’re assuming.

“I was a bit chilly.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a strained smile.

“Take it off.” Trina commands.

“Trina…” Holly warns softly, she’s got her hand on Trina’s shoulder and you can’t help but giggle.

“Wait, your date was last night, right? With this ‘Min Yoongi’? Ooooh, did things go well?” Trina whistles out.

“It wasn’t a date, I already told you…” you whine as you walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“But it did go well! I had a really nice time.” You admit softly, smiling at the memory of your ‘thank you outing’. “He’s so cool and so sweet.” Your eyes light up, “He owns the record shop a few shops away from the bakery!”

“Owns it? Like it’s his?” Holly asks, she shares a pleased smile with Trina.

“Yes, like it’s his.”

“He sounds like a man. Marry him.” Trina gives you an aggresive thumbs up.

“Chill dude.” You laugh. “I think he and I could become really good friends…and…”

“And?”

“Well, you never know.” Your eyes shift to the side as you smirk. “The world is full of mystery.”

Trina smiles brightly, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

“I’m saying that there’s not not a chance…”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Trina lifts up Holly’s hand and high fives herself with it. “Whatever isn’t Jungkook.” She finishes with a grin and you feel your whole body go stiff.

“Trina…” you frown, “I really don’t like when you say stuff like that. Jungkook is a good person. He just…he messed up, yes. But he’s trying.”

“He hurt you.” Trina’s tone goes serious. “How could you forgive him for that?”

“I’m trying too. But I am able to try because I know him…he wouldn’t just hurt me without him having his own reasons…and I love him, T. Like as friends, of course but also…”

“I know.” Trina goes soft, “I know.”

Holly clasps her hands together, “And that’s that! How about we make some food and chit chat some more over some mimosas!”

“I love that idea.” You say.

“But seriously girl, please go change out of that turtle neck…you’re making me sweat just looking at you.” Trina says.

Right, the turtle neck. You told Jungkook you would drop off his white one…well, you gotta find it first.

“Okay, but I have to run an errand first then we can hang.”

“An errand?” Both girls look at you quizzically.

“Don’t worry about it.” Great, now you sound like Jungkook.

~~~~~

Within the hour you are quickly dropping off Jungkook’s shirt off at his place and going back to yours. He answered the door in nothing but his towel again and you tried so hard not to drool. You recall the night before when your fingers were dragging down his chest and his toned stomach. You felt every ab beneath your fingertips. Fuck, that felt good. You’re home now, you shake your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of Jungkook’s body. But with a body like that? It’s so so hard. Just like how he was…STOP. You shake off these thoughts and try to pay attention to what Holly is saying.

“—And then I turned it in anyway and still got an A!”

“That’s amazing Holly.” You say, trying to act like you weren’t just having impure thoughts.

“Yeah, you totally kick ass.” Trina says.

You girls are a few mimosas in, you feel the champagne starting to work its wonderful magic on you but unfortunately it is making you start to sweat. You want to take off this damn turtleneck.

“I’ll be right back.” You say quickly before retreating to your bedroom. You find a baggy t-shirt and slip it on. This feels much better! But god damn. These marks on your skin are something else. You rush to the bathroom and try to cover some with makeup but it’s hardly helping. Fuck.

“Welp, maybe they won’t notice.” You whisper to yourself.

You walk back out into the living room and you notice both Holly and Trina’s eyes go comically wide.

“Wow, that date did go better than you thought!” Trina starts whooping and hollering.

“Wow y/n.” Holly really does look shocked.

Okay, so maybe they did notice. You feel so self conscious all of the sudden, your hands flying up to your neck to cover yourself.

“It’s—It’s not what it looks like.” You stammer out.

“It looks like this Yoongi guy is really into marking!” Trina yells out with a grin.

“Yoongi is really into marking…” Holly eyes you with horror in her eyes.

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!” Trina begins chanting, she looks over at Holly and lightly taps her thigh to get her to start chanting the name as well.

“Guys…” You whine into your hands, “It wasn’t Yoongi.” You must be admitting that because you’ve had a few mimosas.

Silence. The room falls undeniably quiet.

“Wait what?” Trina asks, her wide grin beginning to fade.

“Did you meet with someone else last night?” Holly begins to pry.

“Did you go to a bar or something and meet a rando?”

“Did you bump into someone on the street?”

“Did you call up and old boyfriend? An old hookup?”

“Guys!” You yell out, “I met up with Jungkook last night!”

Once again, the room goes silent.

“You what?” Trina asks plainly, “What does that have to do with the hickeys on your neck?”

“Really Trina?” your head falls into your hands, “We kind of…”

“You guys fucked? Really?” Trina’s serious tone is back.

“No! We just got really drunk and made out! That’s it!”

“But is that really it for you?” To your surprise, it’s Holly who asks this.

“It’s fine. We were just drunk. We decided not to be weird about it. And we won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Trina asks, her voice gone soft.

“Because I will text him in a few days, he’s going to text back. Or I’ll call and he will answer like normal. I’ll ask to hang out or something and we will just be two friends who hang. It will go just like that!”

Except it doesn’t go like that at all. A few days pass and you decided to text Jungkook in the morning after you woke up. You don’t expect to hear back from him for a couple of hours since he will probably sleep in. But hours and hours go by and it’s the afternoon now and you still haven’t heard from him.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” You click the end button on your phone again for like, the 6thtime. Why isn’t Jungkook answering? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you know you remember him saying he had today off for some reason so what is he up to? Even if he was with Vanessa, would he really ignore you like this? 6 calls in a row?

You decide to try Jimin, maybe they’re together. You look him up in your ‘Favorites’ and click clack away to calling him. After several rings the boy finally answers,

“Hey.” He says somewhat out of breath, “I’m working, what’s up?”

“Hey it’s nothing really…” you begin, “But have you heard from Jungkook…? I can’t get a hold of him…”

“Huh? No? Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, busy babe.” You can hear Jimin directing some poor child of his wrong moves on the other side of the phone.

“Look, I gotta go. But just try again in a little while, okay?”

“Can you try calling him for me?”

“Huh? Uh, sure. I’ll let you know later. Love you, bye.” Jimin hangs up and you’re left with your phone to your ear, talking to no one.

It’s Wednesday evening now, you and Holly are sharing a pie while watching some weird show on Netflix that Holly insists is good. You’re three episodes in and you’re starting to wonder when the ‘good’ part happens. It’s mostly just been weird but Holly seems invested in it. You’re trying to keep your mind busy, the thought of Jungkook making you feel antsy. You just wanted to call and see if he wanted to chill together…to prove things aren’t going to be weird between you two. Is he really going to be so fucking immature? Big deal, you made out. But to go this far to ignore you? You can’t help but feel so fucking anxious. He won’t ghost you again right?

You mindlessly stick your fork in the pie repeatedly when you feel your phone buzz. Thank God, some sort of reason to look away from this show, you think.

Jimin 6:22pm

Hey, I got a hold of Jungkook…

What the hell? So he answered to Jimin?!

Jimin 6:22pm

It’s probably best to let him be today babe, today is…not a good day

You click off your phone and throw it on the cushion to your side because what the hell does that mean? Not a good day? If he’s not having a good day then shouldn’t he like, lean on you? Wait, you’re asking for too much right? You mean, you’re the one who set boundaries. But if he’s having a bad day why ignore you? You throw the fork in the pie and set it next to Holly, she looks at you mortified that you would just throw your fucking fork. You stand to your feet and start heading to your room.

“Uh, where are you going? Things are just getting good.” Holly whines.

“I’ll be back in a little while Hol, just gotta do something real quick.” You call out from behind you, entering your room to change into some clean clothes.

Once you’re ready you grab your purse and your keys and head towards the front door, and out to your car.

It’s a really quick drive to Jungkook’s apartment, he lives so close to you it’s ridiculous. He couldn’t find an apartment that was further away from his old one? Well, still…you’re grateful it’s a short drive. You wonder how you’ll confront Jungkook. He isn’t the best at opening up so you have to go about this strategically. But knowing you, you’ll be anything but strategic. It’s just with Jungkook you really have to force it out of him—whatever it is. Even then you may get nothing.

You find a parking spot a little a ways from the building, it’s a nice refreshing two minute walk to get inside to find and ride the elevator. You remember riding this elevator with nick and oh god, cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. Speak of the devil, he’s who answers the front door after your insistent knocking.

“Oh hey y/n. What’s up?” Nick’s eyes dart from you to the rest of the hallway. “Is it just you?” he asks, “Jungkook isn’t here…”

“Can I wait inside until he gets home?” you blurt out.

“Uh, sure…” Nick opens the door wider for you to enter. You breeze past him, taking off your shoes at the entrance and make your way to the couch. Damn, you are a woman on a mission.

“Can I get you some water?” Nick offers as he closes the door.

“Sure.”

Nick comes into the living room with a glass full of water and you couldn’t be more grateful. You didn’t even realize how dry your mouth has gotten, the anticipation of Jungkook’s arrival making you nervous.

“Do you know where he went?” you take the glass from Nick and gulp down like half the glass. “He hasn’t answered me all day.”

“Wait, he doesn’t know you’re here?” Nick asks in panicked surprise. “Should you really be here? He might be with Vanessa or like, coming back with her…”

“It’s fine. I’m waiting, is that okay?” you nibble on your lips, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, I guess.” Nick shrugs, “I’ll be in my room if that’s okay? You can watch whatever on TV or like, whatever.” He smiles at you, gesturing towards the TV.

“I’ll be fine Nick.” You smile back.

More than an hour passes, a god damn miserable hour of you sitting on Jungkook and Nicks couch when you finally hear the front door being unlocked. Jungkook.

You straighten up when you hear the door beginning to open, the soft creak sounding a million times louder in your ears.

Jungkook walks through and you notice he is alone, and you sigh in relief. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low as he takes his shoes off and you immediately sink in your spot. What’s with him? So, you stand to your feet and clear your throat and he doesn’t even flinch. He just continues walking inside, finding his way into the kitchen. You watch as he opens up a cabinet and reaches for a glass, next he’s fishing the fridge for some fresh water and filling up his cup. He takes a few sips of his water before his dark eyes find you.

“What are you doing here?” his low voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You went ghost on me today…I was worried.” You leave the living room to walk into the kitchen as well.

“I…” he begins as he sets the glass on the counter. “I didn’t ghost you.”

“How could I be so sure?” you step closer to him, “How come you answered Jimin but not me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words, like a deer caught in headlights. He blinks at you repeatedly until he tries forming words.

“It’s nothing personal.” He settles for. “Can we talk tomorrow, y/n?”

“Where did you go today?” God, why do you sound like some weird, possessive girlfriend? You cringe at your own words.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jungkook’s eyes darken again, his voice low.

“It matters to me.”

Jungkook looks down at the floor and you notice him take a few deep breaths, like he is struggling to find a steady one.

“Talk to me, Jungkook.” You reach out to him, your fingers finding his and he flinches at your touch. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I….” Jungkook’s voice cracks and you wish you could bring him in to hug you but you don’t. You just let him continue.

“I…have nothing to say.”

Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Of course Jungkook chooses to stay silent. Of course he chooses not to talk to you.

“Is it Vanessa?” you finally find the courage to ask, “Did you two break—”

“No, we’re fine.” He cuts in. Jungkook frees himself from your hand and looks up at you with a strained smile, “I’m fine, y/n.”

Now, you shouldn’t feel upset. Or angry. But you do, you fucking do. It’s been almost 4 years of this same bullshit where he cannot open up to you and its starting to feel insulting.

“You’re…” you step closer to him again but he takes a step back until he’s backed into the counter. “You aren’t fine. Please talk to me, Jungkook.” You try to say calmly but you think the rage is a little evident in your voice.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Is it because I’m a girl?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, not knowing what you mean by that. Yeah, that was a stupid thing to assume but you aren’t smart right now.

“You can’t confide in girls because you have trust issues? You know, because of your mom…how she left you…”

“Stop.”

“That’s it right?” You volume increases as your anger shows, “Are you fucking serious? When have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me? When have I ever fucking left you?”

“Shut up.”

“No! And yeah your mom left you so you like, don’t trust girls I guess but god damn, Jungkook maybe it’s time to get over—”

“I said shut up!” Jungkook’s voice rises to a volume you have never experienced with him before.

“Have you tried looking for her?” you continue to speak, not realizing you are making everything worse.

“I know where she is.” He states, his nostrils flaring.

You flail your arms around, “Then go fucking talk to her.”

Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, his shoulders to his ears and his fists balled up at his sides. He’s quiet. Too quiet. His breaths are beyond shaky and you finally notice it.

Jungkook’s eyes are glossed over and you think you may have gone too far. His lip begins trembling and he tries to speak but no words come out. He struggles to speak to you and it makes you blink at him like an idiot. Why can’t he speak?

“Jung—”

Jungkook lifts a hand up to stop you from talking any further. He inhales sharp breaths and releases shaky ones. His eyes are full of tears but none fall. He stares down at the ground just trying to do something as easy as breathing, but he falls short.

“Jung—”

“Please.” He croaks out. Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, his head falling into his hands and you aren’t entirely sure at first but after a few moments you really realize…he is softly and quietly crying. Your Jungkook who never cries in front of anyone is sitting on his living room couch crying. You’re speechless. You also don’t know what to do. Do you try to comfort him? Do you leave him alone? But how could you leave him alone when he sits on his fucking living room couch sniffling away?

You hesitantly walk towards the sofa and take a seat next to him. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you, just continues crying into his hands. You don’t have to think about it, you reach your hand to rub soothing circles on his back and start whispering words of comfort in his ear.

Several moments pass when Jungkook finally lifts his head from his hands, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Mom…” he clears his throat. “Mom didn’t just leave us. She left everything. She left me.”

“I know Jungkook…I’m sorry… I just lashed out on you, you can heal at your own pace and if she wants to see you again, she will.” You continue to rub his back.

“No, you don’t get it.” Jungkook murmurs. “Mom was hurting a lot. You know?” he begins to get choked up, his throat burning.

“Dad cheated, yes. But he was also neglectful of her and she was in a lot of pain,” he sniffs repeatedly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“She felt like she had no one, not even me.” Jungkook face scrunches up as he resists more tears.

“She couldn’t even rely on me.”

Fuck. You know where this is going. It is all starting to make sense.

“Mom killed herself when I was 16.” Jungkook finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was too afraid to say it out loud. Like it made it more real.

“Dad didn’t take it well…he started drinking and I rarely saw him around…I had to take care of myself.” Jungkook finally lets the tears fall.

“I hated him. I still do.” Jungkook clenches his jaw.

You sit on the couch unable to comprehend what Jungkook has gone through. You feel like the biggest bitch alive. You forced your best friend to reopen his wounds in front of you and you had the audacity to pour salt in them.

“Jungkook I’m so—”

“Forget it.” He’s quick to cut you off. You stare at him with wide eyes, your own tears staining your cheeks.

“Please leave me alone for a while.” He whispers and immediately you stop him from rising from the couch.

“No!” you pull him back down. He doesn’t even resist, he falls back to your side and you lead his head to rest on your beating chest.

“I’m here for you, Jungkook.”

And that’s it. That’s what it took for Jungkook to scrunch and twist his face until more tears begin flowing out of his swollen eyes. He cries into your shirt, wetting the material.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pat his head, your fingers weaving through his dark locks.

Jungkook cries like this for several minutes, until he’s wiping away his tears and snot with his shirt sleeve. He rises from your chest and looks at you with a painful expression.

“Today is mom’s birthday.” He admits.

Fuck.

“I went to her grave today…” he sniffles, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…” he starts crying again, “Saying it out loud. Makes it real, don’t you think?” His face is swollen and puffy from his tears and you can’t stop your own tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry.” You feel awful. You can’t even fathom what he has gone through…

“It’s okay, this was bound to happen eventually right?” he laughs awkwardly, snot still dripping from his nose.

“I shouldn’t have forced it out of you…God, I am so sorry.”

“I…” Jungkook’s eyes refill with tears as he tries to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I really am. I tried so many times but I just couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t.” The tears fall down his face once again, “I tried.” He begins to cry harder. “I really tried y/n.”

You heart breaks. This is a sight you never want to see again but if anyone has to see it you want it to be you.

“Baby…” you whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You’d never leave me…right?” Jungkook chokes on his words as he speaks. “I couldn’t handle it.”

You shut your eyes as you think about what Jungkook has gone through. You think about why he’s been so closed off and why he has troubles with people sometimes—especially girls.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” You say in promise. “You’re too important to me.”

Jungkook’s face falls back into your chest, he cries into your shirt for several more minutes as you rub his back and play with his hair.

“Wasn’t I important to mom too?” You hear him whisper.

Your heart breaks even more.

“Of course you were, Jungkook.” You try to save, “I know she must have loved you a lot.”

“Then why?”

“She must of thought you were going to be strong enough without her…” Your fingers thread through his hair again, “And you are. But you know, you aren’t completely without her…” Your hand goes to his chest, over his beating heart.

“She’s here too, with you.”

And with that, Jungkook sobs harder. Like, it’s the first time he’s cried over this. And you wonder if it is. He’s gripping on to your shirt so tightly as he releases intense sob after the other. Your heart continues to fucking break.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

It’s been quiet the last 30 minutes, neither you nor Jungkook have spoken. He’s not even crying anymore, just lightly sniffling every now and then. You wonder if he has fallen asleep. You wouldn’t be surprised, all that crying will take out all the energy out of a person…

You lean your head down to get a look at Jungkook’s peaceful face…he is sleeping. You feel yourself relax as you continue to play with his hair. He needs the rest, you think.

You feel your own eye lids getting heavy and you let yourself fall asleep as well. Jungkook snuggles deeper into your side, his face nuzzling in your chest and you hold him tighter. You two sleep like this for many hours until you’re being woken up at the sound of the blender going.

The living room is lit up with sunlight and your eyes blink lazily. You realize Jungkook isn’t sleeping with you anymore and you start to panic. Where did he go? Then the blender goes off again and you decide to stand from the couch, even though your body feels so heavy.

Jungkook is in the kitchen when you walk over, he’s got his back turned to you and you creep up behind him.

“Boo.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

“When will you realize that will never work on me?” Jungkook lightly chuckles, “Sorry to wake you up. I figure I could make us some fruit smoothies.” He turns around in your hold. You eye him up and notice how puffy his eyes are and you feel your heart drop.

“Fruit smoothie sounds delicious.” You squeeze him tighter and Jungkook laughs a wonderful laugh. It’s loud and full and filled with joy.

“Hug me back.”

Jungkook smiles down at you and circles his arms around your waist, “Sorry, sorry.”

You smile back up at him and lean your head on his body, he feels so warm it could melt you.

“About last night…” Jungkook begins pulling away from you, “I’m sorry I kind of…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You cut in. “It’s my fault.”

“No y/n…I’m glad things happened the way they did. I actually feel so much better.” He admits, “Lighter, even.”

“Oh? Well, good. But I am still so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” He goes back in to hug you tighter. You feel his strong arms hold on to you and you want to stay like this forever. You would if you could. But—

“Shit. What time is it?” You step back from him, digging in your pocket for your phone. “Holy hell, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Then get going. I’ll text you later?” Jungkook asks with hope filling his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smile.

~~~~~~

Work was lame as usual, nothing eventful happened. Yoongi must have been too busy at the shop today since he didn’t come in for cookies. You decide you will go see him at the record shop tomorrow but for now…you’re dealing with something else—someone else.

“Oh? You thought Trina wouldn’t tell me?” It’s Jimin. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed with a popsicle between his lips. “Huh Miss Hickeys?”

“Jimin.” You drag his name out, “It’s not a big deal!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “We were just really drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Just two drunk idiots.”

“Idiots, for sure.” Jimin sucks on the tip of the popsicle while he speaks.

“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal. We’re both over it.”

“Are you? You like him and he…fuck, this is getting so ridiculous. Promise me, just promise me…you will tell him the truth? You might be sur—”

“Jimin, stop.”

Jimin huffs out a deep, long breath and rolls his eyes at you.

“No.” he says matter of fact. “I won’t stop until you two talk.”

“Anyway there’s something more important we need to talk about…” you begin, “He told me about his mom.”

Jimin’s expression goes from shocked to guilty. He takes a few moments to finish the popsicle, biting the last inch or two and throwing the stick in the trashcan.

“I know. He told me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been wanting to tell you for a long time y/n…but he just—”

“I know. It must have been really hard for him…all this time…”

“Yeah.” Jimin bows his head, “Me and Tae are the only ones who know because we were friends with him when it happened. That’s the only reason why or else I’m not sure anyone would know.”

“Is that…is that Jungkook’s secret? That you three…”

Jimin’s eyes expand as he realizes what you are talking about.

“N-No.” He admits softly, “That’s something else. That’s something Jungkook will definitely have to tell you on his own and trust me if you guys just talked…”

You tilt your head in confusion. What’s the correlation?

“Anyway, Jimin has Jungkook ever cried to you? About it all?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“He didn’t even cry at the funeral y/n.”

Fuck. You had a feeling. But knowing for sure is a whole other thing. The way Jungkook broke down in front of you felt like it was his first time and maybe it was and that makes your heart ache.

“Did he…cry? In front of you?” Jimin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

“Oh… he must really trust you.”

You only nod your head in response.

“If you guys just learned to communicate better…I’m really rooting for you two.”

Your heart swells at Jimin’s little confession and you nod your head again, this time with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks Jimin.” Finally, you feel supported. And it makes you breathe just a little easier.

“I know things haven’t always been easy with you two ever since the Tae thing…but honestly this goes back even further. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. We…I don’t know what’s with us.” You chuckle bitterly.

“I do. And I am going to force you two to talk one of these days. I swear on it. I will give you guys some time but damn babe, this is just…” Jimin releases a long breath. “Just don’t give up, okay?”

“Can’t you just tell me?” you don’t mean to sound like you are begging but you kind of do.

“No. It’s truly truly not my place.”

“I can’t just assume what you are talking about, you know? I can’t hope for the best then get crushed. That’s too scary, Jimin.”

“I understand babe.” Jimin scoots closer to you until he’s within arms-reach and caresses your calve. “Just talk to him, please.”

“Too scary.”

“One of these days one of you will have the courage.”

~~~~~~

“And what could be in this little baggy of yours?” Yoongi grins, showing his wonderful gummy smile.

“I brought you 2 cookies Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” You shake the little bag in front of his face in a teasing manner and he chuckles.

“What did I do to deserve your kindness?” He takes the baggy from you and inspects both cookies. “You decided not to be bratty today?” he questions with a smile. “These cookies are perfect.”

You decided to visit the record shop today, on this fine afternoon. It’s one of those days where it’s cloudy and looks like it could rain but it never does. You love days like that.

“This place looks so nice!” you say, bobbing your head around to get a proper look.

“There’s a section where you can sit and drink coffee…it’s not much but its cozy. Wanna check it out?” Yoongi offers, gesturing towards the other side of the shop.

“Yeah.” You say, “Lead the way.”

He guides you to the other side of the shop next to a window. There’s a table for two and he’s right—it is cozy looking.

You sit down and wait for Yoongi as he fetches two coffees, which you are so excited about since you have a fucking addiction.

He sets a cup down in front of you and takes his seat.

“So any new happy moments in life? Anything new to be grateful for?”

“I—”

“That’s a trick question,” Yoongi’s eyes go small as he smiles widely, “There’s always new moments to be grateful for.”

You can’t help but laugh, you bring the steaming hot coffee to your mouth and you blow on the liquid multiple times before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip.

“Yes I guess so.” You smile.

“And what are they?”

“I’m grateful the sun is hiding today, I like the clouds a lot.”

“I love that.” Yoongi takes a sip of his own coffee. “What else?”

“I’m happy you brought me coffee.”

“I’m glad I somehow made it on your list of things.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m grateful my A.C is working again!” he laughs, “It was actually broken for a couple days and I had like 5 fans plugged in around the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to come in here.”

“Oh no! Well, I’m glad it’s working!”

“How are things with your friend Jungkook? You guys were complicated last time I checked.”

You raise your brows in surprise that Yoongi would bring up Jungkook. But somehow you also aren’t surprised, it seems Yoongi takes a genuine interest in your life.

“We’re actually doing okay…” You bring the coffee back to your lips, taking another sip when—

“Have you told him your feelings yet?” Yoongi casually takes a gulp of coffee as you choke on yours.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…was that too forward?” Yoongi sets his cup down. “To be fair, you both are very obvious.

“What do you means us ‘both’?” You grab a napkin and wipe your chin where coffee dribbled.

“He clearly likes you too.” Yoongi stares at you as you stare back with a blank expression, and he laughs. “You two remind me of myself and someone I used to know.”

“Used to?”

“We were never on the same page…too many missed opportunities that it ruined anything we could have had.” Yoongi frowns for a split second before breaking out into a soft, gummy smile. “I’d hate to see that happen to you.”

“Yoongi—”

“But if it does then better for me?” he whispers with a smile in his voice.

“What do you mean by—”

“Oh. But he has a girlfriend, right?” Yoongi cuts you off with his question.

“Not exactly but basically…”

Vanessa. Your stomach drops at the mention of her and you hate it. Why does she have to have such a strong affect on you? Why does she even have to exist? You mean, she can exist but maybe not in your life—or Jungkook’s life.

Suddenly, the doors bell goes off with a ding and Yoongi is smiling brightly at whoever just walked in. You continue to sip your coffee not giving it much mind.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouts out, standing from his chair to wave over his friend.

Wait, Taehyung? He can’t mean the same Taehyung—

“y/n?”

Oh shit. You turn around in your seat and your face falls when you see him. Even on this cloudy day his skin is so golden like the sun is shining down on him, he looks bright and beautiful. As usual.

“Hi Taehyung.” You wave awkwardly. He can immediately tell how uncomfortable you are, his face deepening into a frown.

“I can come by later…” he offers to you.

“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” You try smiling but it’s quite tense.

Yoongi looks between you two and he points between your bodies.

“You two know each other?”

“We went to school together, had mutual friends blah blah blah.” You say.

Taehyung only agrees with the nod of his head. Yoongi blinks at your two and opens his mouth to say ‘Ah.’ And heads to the back for another cup of coffee.

“How have you been y/n?” Taehyung asks awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he stands here.

“Pretty good, I think.”

“You think?” he chuckles. “Hey, sorry if my texts bother you…”

“They don’t.” you say honestly. “Sorry I don’t always reply.”

“It’s okay, I understand. How’s…Jungkook?” Taehyung eyes shoot down to the floor. “He doesn’t answer my texts either. It really hurts to see years of friendship go down the drain…”

“He’s mad at you Tae,” You begin, “But I think one of these days he will chill out.” You laugh and this makes Taehyung ease up.

“He really fucking loves you.”

“Well we are best friends… sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We kind of stopped talking for a little while but we’re back to being friends.” You try explaining but Yoongi is walking back in with a cup of coffee in hand. He hands it to Taehyung, which he accepts gratefully.

“You’re here for that new Jazz mix record, right? I have it behind the counter for you.” Yoongi says to Taehyung and Taehyung only gives him a thumbs up. He eyes you curiously, wondering what the hell happened between you and Jungkook.

“I have to get back to work boys!” You stand from the table, “Thanks for the coffee Yoongs”

Yoongi smiles at the new nickname.

“And maybe I’ll see you around, Tae?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung gives you his signature boxy grins and you feel like maybe things all around are getting better. Just maybe.

~~~~~

Jungkook has his hands knotted in Vanessa’s hair as she chokes on his cock, her lips wrapped around it fully.

“Fuck.” Jungkook whines out, “I’m so close.”

Vanessa only moans in response, she continues to bob her head up and down on his dick making his orgasm approach quickly.

“Gonna come, gonna come.”

And he does, he comes down her throat and she swallows it all perfectly. Only a drop or two left behind on her lips which she quickly wipes away with her fingers.

Vanessa stands to her feet and Jungkook pulls her in for a quick kiss.

“That was good…” he says, somewhat out of breath.

“Glad.” She says smoothly, going in for another kiss. This time she lingers, her lips lasting for a moment longer on his.

Vanessa’s fingers brush against his neck, she traces the outline of one last bruise left on the side below his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiles coyly. “You two sure are weird.” She says flatly.

“Vanessa…”

“It’s fine. I know you know I still see him. It’s not like we agreed to be exclusive.” She taps her skinny fingers on his chest.

“But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?”

“You aren’t trying very hard, are you?” the amusement in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.

“He cheated on you, Vanessa. Why are you still seeing him? I thought you said he has a girlfriend now?”

Vanessa pauses her tapping on his chest, her eyes go wide for a second. Like, for a second she wasn’t void of emotion.

“He does.” She says smoothly before she begins tapping her fingers against his chest again.

“He cheated on me with this girl.” She admits, “Little does this bitch know—”

“Is that healthy? Getting revenge?” Jungkook asks, concern lacing his voice.

Vanessa continues to tap her fingers as she narrows her eyes at Jungkook.

“You want to talk to me about what’s healthy?” her empty laugh fills the room.

“I want you to stop.” Jungkook’s hands go to her hips, “Let’s be exclusive, Vanessa.”

“I can’t stop…” she whispers softly, “I can’t let go.”

Jungkook observes Vanessa for a few moments, she looks as vulnerable as she did the first time she talked about her ex with him. He feels sorry for her. He really does want her to move on, for her own sake.

“You can move forward, Vanessa. You have me.”

Vanessa looks into his eyes, studying his serious expression. She can tell he means well but…she doesn’t have him. She never will.

“Please Vanessa, we can make this work.” He begs, yes begs.

Vanessa tilts her head to the side. Oh? This must be his desperation talking, she thinks. His desperation to get over you. She knows this. And she doesn’t hold it against him and instead she decides to help him.

“Okay, let’s make this work.”

~~~~~~~

y/n 8:09pm

On a scale of 1-10 how bad do you wanna watch spirited away right now?

Jungkook 8:15pm

11 girl don’t play

y/n 8:16pm

I thought so, I think this means you need to come over and watch it w meeee

Jungkook 8:20pm

Lemme shower and I’ll be over:)

y/n 8:22pm

Bring beer pllllssss

Jungkook 8:42pm

On my way

y/n 8:45pm

Drive safe bb

It’s around 9pm exactly when you hear soft knocking on the front door. You scurry towards the door and open it, finding Jungkook on the other side. He is wearing your favorite gray puma sweat suit and his hair is wavy and damp. He smiles at you when he sees you eyeing him up and down.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

“Wow, what a classic line Jungkook. Real original.” You scoff, letting the boy through.

Jungkook walks in, setting down a case of beer on the breakfast table.

“I brought our favorite.” He gestures towards the beer on the table. “Let’s drink it while it’s nice and chilly.”

“Agreed. I already have the movie set up.” You point towards the T.V “Ready for our viewing pleasure.”

“Where’s Holly?” Jungkook takes two beers from the case, handing one over to you.

“Her and Trina went out to some bar, I didn’t feel like going.” You take the beer and twist off the cap, Jungkook does the same. You two clank the bottles together in cheers and take a few sips.

“Ah.” You say, the refreshing beer making you feel well, refreshed.

“Because you don’t feel like going to a bar? Or because you would rather hang out with me?” Jungkook smirks, taking another sip of his beer.

“Because I didn’t feel like getting pretty.” You bring the beer to your lips, but you don’t drink from the bottle, just waiting for a response instead.

“You’re always pretty.”

You take a sip of the beer, feeling satisfied with his response. “I know.” You half joke.

“Let’s go to a bar.” Jungkook blurts out.

“W-What?”

“Let’s go in our lounge clothes.” He smiles, “Let’s just do it.”

“No!” you laugh out, “We look like slobs. Well, I do. You look…” your hand motions towards his body, “You know, you look…”

“Are you trying to say I’m hot, y/n?” Jungkook’s sly smile grows as he drinks his beer.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out.

“Well, I think the same of you. So let’s go.”

You can’t help but laugh, you continue to drink your beer back, the liquid settling nicely.

“Okay. Fuck it, let’s do it.” You can’t help but grin, the idea of going to a bar in yoga pants and a t shirt with your sort of best friend sounds so great to you.

“But maybe a little makeup…” Jungkook starts chuckling as you hit his arm with your fist.

“Shut up.”

The bar is mostly pretty casual, maybe not as casual as you and Jungkook but still casual.

Only a small handful of people are actually dressed nicely, but mostly are in jeans and nice shirts. Somehow Jungkook is still the hottest guy here. Even in his sweat suit. You’re surprised you two even got let in, does this place not have some sort of dress code? Guess not.

It’s pretty loud inside, the place has a live band and a decent dance floor. You and Jungkook head towards the bar and take your seats.

The bartender takes a few minutes to reach you two and when she does she automatically nods at Jungkook for his order.

“Two long islands please.” He says, he smirks towards you and you smile back. Long islands? Oh you’re getting drunk drunk tonight.

“You got it.” She smiles at him with all her teeth, and turns around to start mixing the drinks.

“Long islands, huh?” you rest your head in your hand on the bar top.

“I figure neither of us are driving tonight, we might as well go hard.” Jungkook smiles at you. “I’ll buy this first round?”

“Sounds good to me.” You bump fists with Jungkook with a wide smile. “Wanna make a bet?”

“What’s that?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you.

“I bet you $5 that by the end of the night the bartender will hit on you.”

“But I also bet $5 that the bartender will hit on me.” Jungkook pouts.

You stare at him in disbelief at his cockiness and you burst out into giggles.

“Fair enough.” You say between laughs.

The bartender slides two drinks to you and Jungkook, she twists and twirls her hair in her fingers as she asks Jungkook how it tastes. He takes a sip and gives her a thumbs up, you can’t help but snicker.

“Can we also get two tequila shots?” you wave at the bartender. She turns to face you and frowns.

“Sure.” She puts on a fake smile and turns to fill up two shot glasses with tequila. She sets them in front of you a Jungkook and tells you the amount due.

“Tequila shots? Are we trying to fucking die tonight?” Jungkook chuckles from beside you. He grabs two limes and hands you one.

“To us.” You say, lifting your shot in the air.

“To you.” Jungkook whispers as you clank glasses and throw back the shots.

Holy shit, you are fucking wasted. After several tequila shots and a few long islands you and Jungkook are barely holding on. Okay, fine. It’s not that bad. But you guys are really drunk!

His hand hasn’t left your waist for hours, and it feels so fucking nice. It feels perfect. It feels right.

“y/n?” a voice calls out to you. You know this voice, really well in fact.

“Taehyung!” you cheer. You stumble forward and go in for a high five and his drunk ass high fives you back.

“Fancy seeing you again.” You giggle.

Jungkook’s hand grips your waist tighter as he narrows his eyes at Taehyung.

“What do you mean again?” Jungkook asks, his voice low.

“We ran into each other at my friend Yoongi’s” you slur out.

“Hi Jungkookie.” Taehyung awkwardly sways back and forth, his words also slurred. It’s obvious he’s on the same level as drunk as you.

“…Hey.” Jungkook hesitates to respond, he looks between you two. “y/n…is this okay? Talking to him?”

“Hm? Oh? Yeah.” You stare at Jungkook blankly. Why wouldn’t it be, you think.

“Jungkook, maybe we could talk just the two of us?”

You look between the boys and somehow you feel yourself sobering up just a bit.

“Uh. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You say, already walking away.

“You know how sorry I feel.” Taehyung begins, “About everything.”

“What’s everything?” Jungkook mumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry for what I did to y/n. But I am also sorry for holding your secret over you like that to keep mine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook slurs out, “That was fucked up.”

“I miss you guys…” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, “Even Jimin barely talks to me.”

“Shouldn’t have messed with our girl.”

“You mean, your girl.” Taehyung drunkenly corrects Jungkook.

“Whatever.”

“Seriously man, when are you just going to grow the fucking balls?” Taehyung raises his voice just a bit, “It’s clear how you both feel—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about man, plus I have a girlfriend now—”

“You guys are official now?” You walk up to the boys, cutting in. You feel like maybe he’s just saying that.

“y/n…yeah, we just made it official.” Jungkook admits, running a hand through his hair, sighing out in frustration.

Oh. You feel your heart begin to crumble. They’re dating for real now?

“Do you have feelings for her?” You blurt out.

Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, he breathes in and out in and out. He bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how to respond.

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Well, I’m going to head back to my friends…” Taehyung butts in awkwardly. “It was nice seeing you two.” And with that he’s slipping away in the crowd.

“Wanna dance?” you say, trying your best to change the subject. You decide you don’t want to know his answer.

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles at you, he reaches for your hand and you squeeze his tightly. You guide him to the dance floor, the song is a slow one. You two look at one another but there’s nothing awkward about this. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands circle around your waist, he pulls you in close as you two sway to the music.

“Never go 3 months without me again.” You whisper into his neck.

“W-Why are you bringing that up now?”

“I have to keep my eyes on you, Jungkook. Without my supervision you go off and get yourself a girlfriend.” Your drunken words pierce his heart.

“Is that a problem?” He whispers back. “Yes, a big problem.” You lean back to get a look at his face, he’s already staring down at you, he somehow brings you in even closer.

“Whys that?” He breathes out.

“Want you all for myself.” You admit, drunk words are sober thoughts right?

“You want me baby?” Jungkook leans down until he’s so close, like he cannot control it.

“Yes.” You blink up at him, your lips parted.

The song changes but you two continue to dance like it’s a slow song.

“I bet you $5 that some guy will hit on you in the next couple of minutes.”

You tilt your head and drunkenly giggle, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook reaches in his back pocket and hands you a five dollar bill.

“What’s this f—”

“You’re so fucking beautiful” and then his lips are just a mere inch away from yours before he’s pulling back with a look of horror and guilt plastered on his face.

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m with Vanessa now. I’m just drunk. I’m really drunk. You’re really drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” He drunkenly rambles.

You feel your heart sink down into your lower belly, you feel it crack and break into a million pieces. That’s right. Vanessa. He’s making it work with that girl.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“You’re my best friend y/n.” Jungkook slurs out, “I’m trying so hard not to ruin that.”

You only nod your head.

“Let’s go home.” You say.

~~~~~~

Your bed is comfy as ever, especially this drunk. Jungkook takes his shirt off and slips into the sheets, settling next to you.

“Wanna cuddle?” he offers.

“I don’t know if Vanessa would like that.” You slur.

“Right.” Jungkook lays on his back, his arms folding beneath his head. “Should I sleep in the living room?”

“No. I want you here.” You admit between soft breaths. “I always want you here.” You yawn out.

“Good.” Jungkook reaches out to hold you, “I don’t think Vanessa will mind if I cuddle my best friend for just five minutes.”

“Five minutes only” you tease. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth escaping his body and clinging to yours.

You two fall asleep like this. Morning comes slowly, like the world is giving you a chance to really appreciate one another’s company. Like the world knows that moments like this are so hard to come by. Like the world knows that you two need this.

When you wake up the next day, its half past noon. You’re still in Jungkook’s arms while he is dead asleep. You nuzzle into his chest and thank the world for giving you this moment. This moment to embrace him like he is yours, a moment to kiss his cheek like he is yours, a moment to whisper you love him like he is yours.

But he isn’t. He isn’t yours and that’s the reality. But you thank the world nonetheless. Because you need these moments to stay sane. But how do you two always end up like this? Can you keep blaming the alcohol? He tried to kiss you last night and that’s also the reality.

Jungkook wanted to kiss you. Can he keep saying it’s just because he’s drunk?

But he’s with Vanessa now and you have to respect that. And you will respect that.

You thank the world though, that right now he’s in your arms, breathing your air, and sharing this moment. Just you and him.

Finally, after another half hour Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep.

You stare at him as he wakes up and his sleepy eyes find yours.

“G’morning.” His voice is low and raspy and you want to swoon.

“Hi.”

“We…” he looks between your bodies. “Didn’t do anything, right?”

You feel your chest tighten, “No, Jungkook.” You answer calmly.

“Okay…” Jungkook frowns, “We can’t keep doing this, can we?”

Somehow you know exactly what he’s talking about, you can’t keep building this tension between you two. It goes nowhere.

“No” You admit softly, “We can’t.”

You think about Jimin’s words…could Jungkook…? But you don’t want to jump to happy conclusions, put yourself out there and then be wrong. But he tried to fucking kiss you. The girls were right, is this really all for you? You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you. “We really can’t.” you say again.

Jungkook smiles, but its soft and sad and makes you want to kiss his pouting lips until he shows you a real smile but you can’t.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Jungkook moves to his back, he stares up at the ceiling.

“I was just really drunk.” He continues, “Drunk me is wild.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Is that really an excuse anymore?” you feel brave enough to say.

“y/n…”

“Forget it. We’re okay.”

“Are we?” Jungkook moves back to his side, facing you. He gives you a troubled look and you melt. Why are you always melting because of this man?

“Yeah. What’s more important is that your birthday is next week…”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can I be in charge of your party?”

“I don’t want a party, just a couple of friends.”

“Let me host it!”

“Okay, fine.” Jungkook smiles, “I can’t wait.”

“Do I have to invite Vanessa?”

“y/n.” Jungkook groans.

“Kidding!” you sing. Although, you aren’t entirely sure that you’re just kidding.

“It would be nice if you could plan this with Vanessa actually…she mentioned wanting to do something nice for my birthday too.” He sort of whispers out, like he didn’t want you to actually hear.

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what to say. You obviously don’t want co-host a get together with Vanessa but she is his girlfriend after all.

“Fine.”

You and Vanessa? Let’s see how this goes.

[pascalpanic]

Drunk Words (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

Drunk Words / Sober Thoughts part one of two

Summary: Frankie’s drunk off his ass and needs a ride home. PART ONE of a two part Frankie fic

W/C: 2.7k+

Warnings: language, copious amounts of alcohol, Frankie is absolutely shitfaced

A/N: THANK U TO MY BABE @sanchosammy for this idea!!! I love it so much I fuckin LOVE my baby frankie

As you roll over in bed, you groan. You’ve been up for about 20 minutes now, unable to return to the blissful sleep that had been enveloping you before. The time on your watch now reads 3:07. You frown and grab your phone, lying on your side. The light is bright enough to make you squint, and you smile at the text thread you’ve received from Frankie tonight.

The man brings nothing but happiness to your life. You really do love Frankie, not just platonically. You want to hold his big and strong hands, want to lift up his ball cap and kiss him on the forehead, want to fluff the hat hair he always gets from that Standard Oil cap. More than anything, you want to softly kiss that little patch in his beard. It’s just existing there, perfectly clean even when he’s almost at a full beard. His tough fingers scratch it and you giggle, looking away when he asks what’s so funny. Nothing, Fish, you immediately reply. Fishie, if you’re feeling a little more flirtatious.

Frankie might be feeling the same, you’ve noticed lately. He’s a little more touchy with you. He hugs you longer than the other men, makes you dance with him when a good song comes on. He lets it happen when you steal his ball cap and wear it, where he’d scold and smack any of the other men for it. He lends you his flannel when you’re cold, wrapping it gingerly around your shoulders.

It’s been a long time that you’ve been friends now. Just recently, you’ve come to appreciate him differently. The way he hugs you warms your heart still, but it makes your heart race and your hands sweat. It makes you want to lift your face from where it rests in his neck and kiss him softly, your fingers working into that little bald patch on his jaw.

Even now, as he’s clearly drunk, you adore him. How can you not?

Frankie 🚁: attachment: one image

You open the photo and laugh. It’s a blurry selfie of Frankie, an arm draped over Santiago’s shoulders. The two men make faces like they’re going to bite the other, and it makes you chuckle aloud. You can see his fluffy curls peeking out from beneath the cap, and you desperately want to play with them. The image is blurry, showing that it must’ve been moving while he took it.

Frankie 🚁: missing u tonight, Santiago says he doesn’t like me when you’re not around

Frankie 🚁: holy fuck their new beer is really good, you gotta try it soon

Frankie 🚁: lol I fuckin love the nachos here

Frankie 🚁: snati is so annoying, pls get him away from me

Frankie 🚁: u r probably sleep sorry :((((

Frankie 🚁: can we got o a zoo soon?? I wanna see animals 🦫🐈🐕‍🦺🦡

You laugh out loud at the words, at Frankie’s terrible typing. He must be shitfaced. He’s hilarious when he’s drunk.

The last text was only four minutes ago.

Me: Alright, Fishie. Stop drinking and eat something. No more beer.

Frankie 🚁: ha I’m drinking that Coffey shit… Kalua?? isk but it’s so gooood

Your phone rings, filling the screen with your profile picture of Frankie. It’s a photo of him smiling, his dimple evident. Your cheek is pressed to his, grinning just as wide. God, he’s so fucking cute. You love him so much.

You take a second and stare at the photo before pressing the answer button and putting it on speaker. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey,” he laughs, dragging the word out long and slow. “S’a shame you weren’t here, Will’s been buying all night.” His words are slurred and woozy. You can hear the roar of the bar behind him.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re shitfaced,” you laugh into the phone.

“Precisely,” he slurs, a smile clear in his voice. “I can’t drive.”

“I’m glad you realize that. What do you want me to do about that? I can have an Uber coming your way in ten minutes.”

“Will you pick me up?” He asks, his voice like a child’s. “Fuckin’ Ubers cost money, ‘n I just wanna see your pretty face.”

“Frankie,” you warn but feel your body warm at the notion.

“You got a cute little nose,” he laughs. “Just wanna boop it. Can I boop it? Just go… boop, boop boop. Right on the nose.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You’re so fucking lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he practically sings. “See you then. Mwah.”

You throw on a hoodie and walk to your car, not caring to cover up your patterned flannel shorts that you sleep in. Your hair is messy, you don’t have makeup on, you don’t really give a shit. It’s Frankie.

Once you reach the bar, you shoot him a text, and the four men stumble outside. “Yo!” Benny calls and rushes over to you. It’s clear his normal balance has left his body for the night, his body a little wobbly. He’s an excited drunk. He slams on your window until you lower it. “Hey, you missed out on a good time,” he grins. His words blur together too.

Frankie follows behind him, an arm thrown across him. He’s still got a little balance. “Missed you so much, cariño. Santi’s being an ass.”

You look up at Will. “These fuckers need a ride too?” He’s the responsible one of the men, even when intoxicated.

He shakes his head. “Got an Uber coming. They’re staying at my place tonight.”

Frankie puts a hand on the car to steady himself. “Knew you’d come. Pretty girl always comes through for me, even at 3 A.M., thank you,” he slurs happily, his eyes half open.

Santiago leans against your car. “Hey gorgeous. We missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get the grizzly bear in the car.”

Frankie laughs at the words. “Ooh, I like that. Big and fluffy but murderous.”

“I’m about to get murderous if you don’t get in the car right now, Francisco Morales.”

“Oh, snap!”

“Shit, man.”

Benny gives a whistle. The men all make noises in commentary and laugh, Will opening the door. Frankie flops down inside. Benny ensures that all of his limbs have made it in and shuts the door. “Don’t party too hard with him tonight,” Santiago calls and you roll your eyes.

The two of you drive off and out of the bar parking lot.

“Hey, Fish,” you say, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Buckle up. I’m not getting in trouble for your dumb ass.”

“You always do, though,” he mumbles and tilts his head to look at you. “You’re so good to me.”

“I’m a fucking saint,” you sigh sarcastically. “Seriously, buckle up. If you can’t do it yourself, we’re going to the ER for alcohol poisoning.”

“No,” he whines and pouts at you. “Just wanna be close to you. Wanna just…” he trails off and rests his head against your shoulder. “Mm. There. Your skin is so soft.”

“That’s my hoodie, Frankie.”

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, the scent clicking in his addled brain. “No, that’s my hoodie.”

He’s right, you realize. You grabbed a random sweatshirt and pulled it on before leaving. You’re the one who’s always cold at gatherings, leaving Frankie to share one of his many layers with you. You smile a bit. “It’s comfy.”

“I like it better on you. I really like you in my clothes, you know that? Wear them way better than I can. You just look so cute and so little.”

“Frankie, I’m 5’9,” you refute and glare down at him, where he looks up at you with puppy-dog mocha-colored eyes.

“Just look so small in ‘em. I’m like 6’0, you know that.”

“I do know that, Francisco. You remind us all the time,” you laugh, removing his ball cap and tossing it into his lap. “Still shorter than Benny. Get that hat off and I think you’re shorter than Santi.”

“I’m taller than him,” Frankie whines at the reminder. “How come Benny’s the baby and he’s so tall? He’s like a fuckin’ giraffe up there, can never see his stupid face,” he pouts.

“He’s too tall for comfortable hugs,” you nod in agreement. “And Santi is too short. And Will is too fucking awkward,” you laugh. You purposely leave out the bit about how perfect hugs from Frankie are, how much you dream about them and crave them.

His dark brows furrow as he looks up at you with glazed eyes. “Wha’bout me?”

The car stops for a moment as a light in front of you turns red. You smile down at him and push his messy curls from his forehead. “I like hugging you. You’re comfy.”

“Ha, grizzly bear hugs,” he slurs. “Y’should call me that more often. I like it when you call me things the boys don’t. Makes me feel tingly,” he laughs, lovestruck as he looks up at you.

“Tingly?”

“Yeah, like when they put the meds in before they steal your teeth.”

“Steal your teeth?” You laugh loudly, toying with one of the curls. “Do you mean get a tooth removed?”

“Same thing. I don’t like it when they do it then. I like it when you call me stuff though. Fishie makes me laugh and feel happy.”

“Oh yeah?” God, he’s so fucking precious. He looks at you like a puppy stares at their owner, pure and unadulterated love radiating from them. “I’ll need to call you Fishie more often then.”

It’s quiet for a while. Frankie’s head still rests against your shoulder. He can feel all of the tiny muscles move as you steer and navigate the car. He likes the way they move, making his drunken head even more floaty. After a few moments, he shifts to lean against the car door, just watching you.

The music drifting from the radio is soft and quiet. You almost think Frankie’s fallen asleep, since he’s so quiet, but you look over and see him gazing over at you. “Penny for your thoughts, Fish.”

You’re expecting something stupid. Frankie is quite the philosopher when he’s drunk, always asking odd rhetorical questions. ‘Is a muffin an unfrosted cupcake?’ has always been a favorite of his. He’s never quite made up his mind about it, waxing poetic about the difference in the two baked goods.

He always says something stupid, but this time, his sober thoughts become his drunken words. “You’re the most absolute prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles at you, those pink lips curled into a soft smile. It shows off his dimple, and you want to scream from how cute he looks. One of his big hands reaches over and cups your face.

“You’re drunk,” you shake your head, looking back at the road. “Don’t be stupid.”

“No, I mean yeah. Kinda drunk and really stupid, ha, but I mean it. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” The backs of his fingers trace across the side of your face, resting on the side of your neck now.

You look down at yourself, still skeptical. “No, I know what you’re gonna say,” he pouts, beating you to the punch. “You’re in your pajamas and your hair is all messy ‘n whatever, but you’re so pretty. Your face is so cute. I love your nose. Just wanna…” he leans over and makes good on his promise for earlier. “Boop,” he coos as he pokes the tip of your nose, smiling wide. “You’re so cute. The guys make fun’a me because I never shut up about it.”

“Oh really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“Yeah. Santi says I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, sitting back against the car window.

You gulp as you force yourself to grip the steering wheel harder, staring at the white dashes separating the two-lane road. “Yeah? What do you have to say on the matter?”

“I’m kinda thinkin’ he might be right.” His voice is small and quiet.

You shake your head again, eyes watering from the honesty. There’s no way he can think that. He’s shitfaced. He doesn’t mean it, there’s no way. He’s never been more than a friend, done anything to indicate romance.

Or… maybe he has, you reflect. He pays for your drinks most nights. He’ll order something you want and share it with you. He’s always a little touchier than he is with the boys. “You don’t mean that,” you say quietly, swallowing hard.

Whatever common sense he has left tells him to be quiet, so he does. He sits there silently for the rest of the drive, the tension palpable between the two of you. When you finally reach his house and park, you hold your breath. You don’t know what to do, what to say, but you can’t just let him go inside without saying anything. He sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’s come to a stop.

You bite your lip and look over at him. “I should help you inside.”

He nods and you turn off the car, putting the key in the pocket of your hoodie. You get out and walk to Frankie’s side, opening his door. He reaches his arms out to you and you chuckle a little. He looks like a helpless little child.

“Alright, grizzly bear,” you grunt as he swings his feet out and you help lift him to his feet. His arms cling to you tight until he’s standing up.

“Thanks,” he murmurs and wraps an arm around your shoulder when he’s upright.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you chuckle.

Using you as a crutch, he walks alongside you and into his house. He fumbles with the key until you open it for him, then lock it behind you. He leads the way to his room, opening the door and sighing as he sees his bed.

“Not yet,” you say as he tries to get to the bed. “Come on.” You pull his flannel off, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. “Okay, go on.” He flops down onto his bed with a happy noise. Once he’s down, you unlace his boots and pull them off, then his socks.

Standing at his side, you undo his belt. “Woah,” he laughs. “‘M way too drunk for that, pretty girl. Kinda wanna though.”

“Shut the fuck up, Fish,” you laugh and thread it through the loops, tossing it aside. “I’m getting your clothes off so you can sleep.”

“Oh,” he sighs, giggling drunkenly as you pull his pants off. “Kinda feels like we’re gonna fuck.”

“Maybe another time,” you tease and pull the covers over him. Pushing his curls from his face, you softly kiss his cheek. “Call me when you’re sober, okay?”

He frowns and grabs the hand on his face with both of his rough palms. “Don’t leave me,” he pouts.

“Frankie,” you sigh and look at your watch. “It’s 3:35 in the goddamn morning.”

“Then stay the night,” he begs. “You said you like hugging me. I want you to hug me all night long,” he sighs, kissing your fingertips. You smile softly. It’s a good offer, you have to admit. He makes it even harder to say no. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here when I wake up.”

“Lots of things can happen while you’re asleep, Fishie. I can-”

“Mm, Fishie,” he says with a smile, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come snuggle with me, pretty girl.”

You sigh as you look at the man. It’s not like you haven’t spent time pressed into his side, watching a sports game or a movie. You and Frankie are affectionate friends. He looks so warm and inviting, his body radiating heat. “Fine,” you give in. “Only because I’m cold.”

“Not ‘cause you like me too?” he asks and rolls over, leaving room for you.

“We can discuss that when you’re sober.” The spot he laid is warm and cozy, his body heat making it perfect for you. You slide under the covers next to him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

Frankie presses a sloppy kiss to your head, smiling. You can hear his slow and steady heartbeat. “G’night cariño,” he mumbles, lips still buried in your hair.

“Goodnight, Frankie,” you whisper.

He falls asleep almost instantly, and you’re close behind him. You’ve never been more at peace than when you fall asleep in Frankie Morales’s arms.

-

read part two: SOBER THOUGHTS

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[jiminrings]

last chronological part for stem koo... WHEW I WATCHED THEM GROW WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

they finally become lunchbox lovers

“you’re asking me what’s jungkook like?”

jimin couldn't be any more surprised

first of all, his day started with yOU texting him and asking if you can drop by for a second, and the moment he texted "sure???", you're literally already knocking on the door

and second, you're asking him???

“oh come on. he clings to you with every chance he gets. i thought you gave him a chance already.”

your eyes only deadpan that jimin actually gets the hint, his mouth curling in a eureka moment that he managed to figure out himself without you talking

“oH! so that’s why you’re asking me because you’re thinking of giving him an actual chance.”

alright finally

you slump in relief over not saying it out loud, expressing the slightest bit of worry you have to someone (that's not as close to you like yoongi and jin are) who'd get where you're coming from without bias

“i just wanna know how he usually is when he’s not on my heels.”

“honestly? the same. probably even a bit more clingier.”

jimin wastes no time in ratting jungkook out, even leaning back to the couch with how relaxed he is

“talks about you too. i’m sorry y/n but even i know what shampoo you use!!!”

jimins knows your wHAT

"my shampoo???"

“mhmm. made me drive him to a grocery store at 10 in the evening so he can individually smell all the shampoos without anyone calling him a creep or something like that,” he nods earnestly and doesn't look like he's playing with you or the sort

you're quite frozen and jungkook's roommate isn't at all fazed and is even pulling up pICTURES of their impromptu grocery trip

“he even made it in a scientific paper format. with the hypothesis and conclusion and everything.”

he points it out just in time when you swipe to jimin's hand holding a printed piece of paper with the document in the monitor right behind it, the next pictures being blurry because that's when jungkook freaked out

jimin gets his phone back but not without sending you the pictures you just saw even if you didn't ask for them, trying to hide the amusement in your eyes when you decide to scroll through them again later

“cut him some slack though. he’s never really had a girlfriend, y’know? or like even a crush. he’s just navigating it with his instincts and all the advice he gets.”

hold on a second

“... advice?”

he thought you'd never ask (he'll still say it even if you don't) which is why he brightly grins, hunching over as if to let you in on a guarded secret

“i’m one of his consultants!!! didn’t suggest the shampoo part though.”

who could have possibly thought of that idea then ://

you hum in faux complacency, trying to get this as fast as possible so you could make up your mind quicker

“what else?”

jimin's relaxed now that he's had a proper laugh with you and realized you aren't as Intimidating As He Thought You Were, recounting the things in his mind like a to-do list

“he’s sickeningly kind.”

the gravity of his words strike him before they do with you, straightening his posture to clear up the air right away, “but i knoW that what he did to you is the furthest thing from kind, and trust me, i really got that point across!!!”

by point, jimin means cooking him burnt meals and jungkook having to endure it because he doesn't like wasting food

additionally, that also meant jimin served kook a cRISP smack on the back of his boba ball head into next week

look at him <3 seokjin, yoongi AND jimin gave him shit!!! now isn;t that teamwork

you're unable to paint the mental image in your head because he continues, grabbing your attention once again

“but apart from that, jungkook could just be too kind for his own sake,” he says sincerely. “he’s like the kid the principal refers to in elementary when they talk about peer pressure!!!”

your first instinct is to snort at that, the mental image definitely forming in your head now

is it just sO bad that you and jimin agree on this

“jokes aside, jungkook’s really genuine.”

it's the last thing jimin wraps it off with when you stand from the couch, cheeks still a little warm when he trails you behind the door

you're just about to thank him when the door in front of you opens and almost hits you in the process, the person behind it just as alarmed

jungkook’s just now coming home because he had to pick up some last-minute groceries from the convenience store downstairs that jimin forgot from his last run, clearly startled to why would wou be here

"oH???? y/n??? what are you doing here???"

his pupils are shaking between the two of you and he's not even trying to hide is incoming panic

“.... a-are you and jimin-“

“yup! sorry bud! we were just-...” jimin's attempt at a lighthearted joke is halted as fast as it was introduced, getting a smack on the middle of his back that makes him wince

“you’re annoying, jimin."

oOOOOH you just put your palm on him!! yea at this rate he's gonna be your best friend too won't he

jungkook's processing things as fast as he could, getting a reassuring glance from you that puts him at ease

“we were just talking, kook.”

he nods even if he's still a tiny bit unsure, calling for you when you're on your way out the door

“a-about what though?”

:-)

“you’d know soon enough.”

( ♡ )

“you wanna tell me now why we went on this drive?”

seokjin yawns at a stoplight even when his car is the only one waiting on the intersection right now, not in the mood for a ticket with a printed traffic light picture of him mid-yawn in his matching pajamas anytime soon

“no reason," you sing-song and it makes him snort, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “couldn’t sleep."

“well that makes one of us.”

you've unabashedly knocked on jin's door and even if it took you two tries, he still answered nonetheless, not even asking for an explanation why before he sleepily took his keys and grabbed his house slippers for shoes

you had no destination in mind at 3 in the morning which is why jin’s just driving for no rhyme nor direction and is just going with his brain’s one-second impulses of where to turn

he’s game for anything, actually — that much you know

although you do know that jin literally wouldn't do this for anyone else besides the people he find worth all this (aka everyone except you and yoongi and ok maybe namjoon sometimes)

the drive is beyond serene and even with repetitive radio music playing in the background, you don't actually mind it

when you're with jin, it just feels like you're in a constant bubble of comfort and ease that you always try to look for in everything

he doesn't necessarily need explanations,, he just deduces from things at face-value and later ask about it when you're comfortable enough to share

jin points at a drive-thru he suddenly had a craving for as you were about to suggest it anyway

you're not even quite sure why there's a line but neither of you complain, the situation more than bearable that a little waiting wouldn't dampen your mood

the words you've been thinking of the whole day finally slip across the silence, as casual yet as sincere as they could be

“i’m really thankful that you’re in my life, jin. you know that right?”

he seems pleasantly surprised when you look at his side profile, shaking his head

“mhmm. you only tell me a couple times but you put your knee on top of mine everyday,” he chuckles at the habit of yours and he kNOWS for a fact you would put your knee on top of his if only he wasn't behind the wheel. “tell me all about it, kid.”

it's genuine laughter that encompasses the whole car, his chuckles suddenly ceasing when he realizes another possibility

“you’re not asking me for allowance, are you? because yoongi’s already bugging me for his next month’s.”

wait what

“you give yoongi an allowance???”

“you didn’t know???”

:///

“... i’m not asking for an allowance.”

“..... but do you want it,.,..”

jin sees you pursing your lips and intentionally looking at everywhere but him, already getting his answer

“fine. that’s the furthest you two could get from me!! don’t expect me to pack your lunchboxes to school now. you must be crazy.”

jin, in fact, packs you and yoongi lunchboxes more often than not

jin, aLSO, does all the paper rolling for you so when the three of u get occasionally high, it’s all nice and tight

jin is also the one who does all the talking on the phone to customer service when neither of you are willing

he asks the moment he relays your usual midnight snack slash early breakfast order he's already memorized to the attendant, patiently looking at you

“you want anything else with that?”

“i’m all good.”

it's in between cars and stoplights that the car is filled with more emotion again, acting on it when you realize it when seokjin's mid-bite on his hashbrowns

“jin?”

“yes?” he speaks muffled, looking at you once before bringing his attention back on the changing stoplight

“love you.”

he feels himself still for a second even if his foot's on the gas and one hand is on the wheel, a somber look on his face that he later smiles sincerely

“love you too, kid.”

( ♡ )

“it’s not my birthday if that’s what you’re thinking.”

yoongi sleepily mumbles the moment he feels his bed dipping, his side that was once holding a pillow now being occupied by you

“i know.”

you wedge yourself between his heavy comforter, tossing and turning until it feels comfortable

“but i actually don’t know your birthday lol it’s-...”

“fuck right off.”

yoongi doesn't question why you're in his bed, because the last time you did, it was because you were left traumatized after seeing a genuinely good horror movie that it was pending to give you nightmares

he didn't see you watch any movie today though, but he'll take you in nonetheless

“kidding.”

you offer in consolation because yoongi's birthday is in your calendar even if you know it by heart, a mindless hum in reply

it's when you drop your arm on his waist like it's dead weight and relax completely, your face near to his mop of hair that it's making him think you're actually cuddling him rn

quick how can he get a picture of this to get this framed

“are you telling me now?”

he questions with his eyes half-open, shimmying backwards so that you're able to hug him more comfortably

“my airconditioner’s busted.”

“mhmm. give me ten minutes. i’ll fix it for you.”

it's 4 am and if your airconditioner really was busted, you wouldn't have let it stay busted for that long

“don’t. it’s okay. i wanna be here anyways.”

both you and yoongi know that your airconditioner’s in tip-top shape and is actually the one that blows the coldest air in the dorm

sometimes you think he’s an angel in disguise because there’s no way you deserve a human best friend like him

“yoongs?”

“hmm?” he hums before he falls asleep again, trying to keep up while having his eyes closed so he could listen to you

“you know that i’m really glad you’re in my life, right?”

oh

:)

“mhmm. you don’t say, sweets," he teasingly chuckles, feeling his ribcage rise in amusement under your arm

“fuck-“

“yeah, i know. i do, because you put me as your family member in your emergency contacts, but you don’t know that i know that.”

... oh

you don't even know how yoongi came to know but you don't question it, the warmth in your heart doubling

“love you.”

“love you too, y/n.”

( ♡ )

jungkook’s the most nervous he’s been in awhile

and that’s coming from him who sees yoongi in almost a daily basis

after all, jin did tell him you can be quite forgetful becasue you tend to take care of things all at once

he’ll sTILL try to be as smooth and casual as much as possible though

“big game tomorrow huh?”

and by big game that means as in your last qualifying game to whether or not your team would compete in the yearly (not to mention prestigious) soccer tournament

you chuckle at the thought because by now, you should already be sleeping and getting some rest even if it’s just seven in the evening

but you’re here <3 out at a park near jungkook’s dorm, sharing hand warmers <3

“yeah. it’s a make or break match.”

“i actually haven’t seen you play before, y’know," jungkook silently admits, looking down on his shoes as he thinks if he's just offended you

“really?” you ask in genuine curiosity, “then how come you interviewed me for your little survey when you haven’t watched me play before?”

oh

tHAT

“i uh, i actually just really wanted to talk to you that day. i-i don’t normally approach people first, but you just looked warm enough for me to reach out first.”

he's babbling before he even knows it, oblivious the growing smile on your face

“then i asked jimin because he kNOWS everything, and it was all in good fate that it turned out you were the soccer captain!! i was excited because i had a legitimate reason to talk to you that day.”

so that’s why

he wanted to talk to you even before his lunchboxes were taken out of the situation!!!

“how about me? why was it me?”

ahem

you're not trying to be funny but you can't help but chuckle, scratching the back of your ear in thought

“i honestly couldn’t tell either, jungkook.”

he almost coughs in shock, masking it off with playing it off for the bite of the chill of the night

“all i know is that something told me it was you,” you timidly add, looking down on your hands. “and i went for it.”

right can he chalk up mad blushing to the night air

he fiddles with the drawstrings of his sweatpants this time, his eye contact with you becoming fidgety

“big game tomorrow,” he repeats and you're just about to tell him that your conversation sounds like it's gonna be repeated

“don’t forget your eyedrops, alright?”

....

was that smooth enough

“eyedrops?”

yeah

uhm

that was... random

“oh right! you gave them back to me.”

“yeah. you should open it tonight, probably. to see if it’s already all-evaporated, y’know? if it is, then let me know tomorrow so i can buy you new ones.”

“highly doubt that they would, but alright, kook.”

you take the little banter to be your cue to walk back to your dorm, about to say goodbye to him when he makes an audible sound of confusion

it confuses you even more when he's trailing behind you

“your dorm’s twenty feet away from where we are, jungkook.”

“y-yeah i know that!! i’m walking you home, silly.”

right!!

hee-hee

he’s keeping his hands to himself even if he BADLY wants to hold your hand or even your forearm but he has to resist that urge rn

but he does intentionally brush shoulders with you and mumble “pothole.” so he could nUDGE you to the side even if there aren’t any to begin with

silence with jungkook now is comfortable as it has been for more than awhile, the walk passing by faster that you almost wish you walked slower

goddamn it he should've said there was a pothole atleast ten more times to make the walk longer

“goodnight, koo.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

there’s obviously no goodnight kiss but he dOES get a squeeze on his bicep

you take your time when you come home — to unwind as much as you could before you stress yourself out tomorrow

your shower routine may have took a little longer this time but it makes you get dressed as quick as you could when your eyes see the origami box you've been putting off from opening, one that jungkook just told you to open, because as far as you knew they were just EYEDROPS!!!

... the supposed bottle of eyedrops that’s too well-packaged and clearly thought-out

an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch AND a plain ziplock baggie as if the other two weren’t enough

it’s when you open the box within the ziplock bag that you feel it’s definitely not as light as a bottle of eyedrops would be

there’s a very visible dent weighing down on the pouch (that’s within the origami box) that’s cLEARLY not your eyedrops

you’re actually nervous to the point that you just open unfurl it with your eyes closed, feeling two items in there

the plastic bottle of eyedrops, and definitely the cool surface of what feels like

a bracelet?

it’s a pretty straightforward yet timelessly elegant silver link bracelet, equipped with a couple options for how tight or loose you want to wear it

it hits you all at once and god does it just render you speechless

jungkook has this bracelet too.

you’re quite speechless and in between looking at it up-close to avoiding looking at it at all, trying to calm your breathing by focusing on the eyedrops instead

the said eyedrops you've been so used to seeing that you immediately sense that there's something oFF with the label???

its stuck-on, that's for sure, but something about it is not as seamless and stationary and official as it should be

it's almost as if there's something snuck inside it and-

...

..... there is

it's scotch tape that's just as thin as the actual label of the bottle itself, having to peel the whole label in order to see it in entirety

it's the same double-sided label jungkook worked so hard to peel flawlessly so he could try and replicate it in the same exact design and measurements, having to even take it up to a classmate from stem he once knew that transferred to graphic design

(yeonjun did ask for a science paper in exchange for his replication of the eyedrops slash adhesive label because who fucking kNEW he still had science even when in graphic design, but jungkook thinks it's fair trade so it's worth it)

it's the same exact label jungkook's had for a month and only recently gave it to you a week ago, a truth he's long since known

it's the same exact label that reads —

i love you

— in his handwriting you've come to known by heart, the label in your hand feeling much more heavy than the bracelet in the other

you already know what to do.

.

.

.

it's game day and u are about to launch yourself into orbit if you hear oNE more drum cheer because it just makes you nervous even more

yeah SURE it makes you pumped when it's the actual game itself but not now!!! not now when you're pumping yourself with electrolytes and at the risk of peeing from nervousness and too much hydration

you haven't seen seokjin nor yoongi yet and as much as that lessens the pressure on you, that alsO makes you nervous because they're your emotional support people!!!! where r they

usually you would see them in the front row of the bleachers and neither of them have any snacks because all of their focus would be on you

jin is nOT mr. kim from student affairs when it comes to your games,,, nuh-uh sir,,, he's that guy from the other team that glares so hard it dISTRACTS me from scoring in the perspective of the opposing team

coach's about to whistle like five minutes from now for a final huddle and everyone's getting their final stretches in

you're too busy looking for people that you actually want to be here that you're taken off-guard when one of them grasps at your forearm, a breathless smile one his face

"give them hell out there, alright. you're a champ."

it's jungkook!!!

IT'S JUNGKOOK!!!!@&$&":@:"$

he looks especially handsome today that you just short-circuit immediately

he's wearing a shirt with your team colors on it aND!!!

he ditched his glasses today to wear contacts, not only because he wanted to look a bit more different and special today, but because he's also scared that a ball would be thrown in his direction and injure him with the additional impact of his glasses

his hair's pushed back with his forehead showing instead of his usual hairstyle and god is it making you a little dizzy

he's beaming at you and his eyes immediately wander to your wrist, not expecting the feeling in his gut next

you're not wearing the bracelet.

jungkook feels the sudden urge to cry even when in public but it's when you grip at his forearm tightly that he stays still, squeaking when you realize his line of thought

"can't wear any jewelry on the field. i-i'm wearing your bracelet as an anklet for the meantime, it's underneath my sock."

...

....

...... oh my god

jungkook's never felt this frozen and euphoric at the same time, sputtering over nothing when your face looks like the furthest thing from joking

you're about to excuse yourself suddenly when your eyes finally take notice what's thrown on his shoulder, something about it being so familiar that it throws you off for awhile

"is that my jersey?"

he nods eagerly to your query, proudly unfolding it for you to see your spare soccer jersey with your surname and number right on it, the exact marks being the same from when you tried to use a laundry pen on it

he didn't get it replicated???

"h-how did you get that? where did you get that?"

jungkook thought you'd never ask, the words he never thought he'd say already leaving his lips

"yoongi gave it to me."

you only have a handful of jerseys on-hand and even if you could always request for more, the ones you have at home are a little more sentimental

you gave jin and yoongs one each from the only several ones you had, and you know yoongi would not give up his for jungkook

but now, you do know that he snuck to your closet and took one to give it to jungkook willingly, trusting him enough to give it to you behind your back

kook's sTILL not fully-forgiven but they're getting there sooner or later

wait why is this making you cry

before you know it, you're pushing yourself to jungkook to hug him tightly, the boy being surprised for a second but ultimately reciprocating once it registers

"i love you too."

.

.

.

.

.

this is the last chronological update for stem koo aka lunchbox lovers!! however, this is not the end of them!! with the end of this chronological series, this means that all the future updates don't necessarily have to be linked — they're miscellaneous and don't have to follow a specific layout like this part of their arc.

with that said, feel free to send in asks on what you want to see from the lunchbox lovers (misc. requests, questions, and everything in between) and i'd love to fulfill them because after all, this series was born purely out of your ideas <3 also pls send in ur thoughts and feedback and love because i have da greatest time reading through all of them!! thank you for all the love for da stem koo universe <3

[mrsmaybank]

Honey - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and the reader were very much in love during Reid’s brief stint in Pasadena. When he has to see her again on a case, he is super nervous. 

a/n: first section is inspired by such great heights 

C/W: Swearing

PASADENA - 2002 

A note from the love of your life is a lovely way to wake up. 

------

When you can understand everything but yourself, finding somebody who does is like seeing a comet; disappointingly rare. My shaky hands can only be stilled by the smile of my most incandescent--in every connotation--creature, and that is you. The universe always seems to know what it is doing even if humanity does not. The stars align and move in patterns we as it’s audience do not fully understand. I think we have watched the stars so much the universe has aligned us as a favor to our poor, overestimated souls. I am so grateful!  Tolstoy noted that "We are asleep until we fall in love!” And I thank you for waking me up.

However I thought it best the favor not be returned this particular morning. You were up late last night, and looked too cute to disrupt. Do not kill me, I am getting coffee. 

I love you and do not leave the bed.  

-Spencer

------

Only Spencer Reid would write that on a sticky note, and only for you would he do so. 

You heard the rattling of keys and a door being opened and shut as Spencer made his way back to your bedroom. The smile you saw on his face was the start of a story that ended on the upturn of your lips, revealing the two protagonists in a mad frenzy of love. As soon as he reached you, your lips pressed to his in a desperation to be impossibly closer. 

“Hi.” he said. 

I am thinking it's a sign

That the freckles in our eyes

Are mirror images

And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned

“Hey love.” you tucked a loose brown hair back behind his ear for a closer look at the face you adored. “Please get back in bed.” 

He sighed but crawled in next to you, big nimble hands making their way across your torso to diminish the space in between you two. You nuzzled into his chest. 

“Your note was beautiful.” you whispered into his ear.

A big, goofy grin spread along his face.

“I meant every word.” his voice so sweet, it sounded dipped in honey. 

Honey is incredibly sticky. 

-----

There had to have been a world where it all worked out. 

In this world, my things never got old, and the ice cubes in my coffee never melted. I could listen to that song over and over again without draining the life out of it and I could like my hair style for more than three months. 

Spencer had read to me the greatest works of the world. Words of the greatest thinkers, authors, and minds. He had an appreciation for them greater than those of the average passerby and I adored that, because so did I. Truly, our similarities are what connected us. Our minds were correlated perfectly when it came to subjectivity. 

In accordance to human nature however, certain matters were never agreed upon. In particular, we argued about the future. The canyon of discrepancy so vast it tore us and our love in two. I didn’t think that was possible.

I wanted to write the book and watch the film as I lived my life and he and his arrogant over-practically thought that impossible. He thought himself an oneirocritic, but my dreams were not looking for critiques. 

Like I said, Spencer read to me the greatest works of the world. And years would pass and the heartbreak and sorrow would fade, but I would always find it ironic how the last thing I ever heard in that honey soaked voice was a work of Confucius.  “Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.”

Spencer chose to go to Washington. He took his heart and a piece of mine with him.

-----

BAU JET - 2011

Seaver must’ve noticed my flinch when the sound of her name resonated through the jet. I’d never liked going to California, but this...this had never happened.  “That name mean something to you Reid?” She smiled, “You look kind of horrified.” 

I ran my hands through my hair in a futile attempt to ground myself. “No. I just...I used to know her.” 

In between the fine lines of love and hate, fell a blurry midsection where feelings came before logic and screams and whispers sounded the same. She ruled over this midsection of chaotic emotional fury. 

Morgan spoke, and I quickly realized I might be falling into a conversation I really did not want to be having. “How the hell d’you know her pretty boy?” 

There was no point in lying on a plane completely occupied by profilers. My best option was to clumsily dodge any direct questions about just how well I knew her.

“I’m from the West coast.” 

“So are over 50 million people. You mean to tell me you know all of them?” he laughed.

“The exact estimation is actually 53,492,270. And no, I’m not saying I know all of them, Morgan. I lived in Pasadena for a year after I graduated from Caltech.”

“Okay?” Morgan questioned my previous statements relevancy. 

“She went to USC. We were in the same social circle.” 

Morgan laughed again, “You had a social circle?” 

Emily, next to us, was presumably combing through her file.

“You, ultimate three doctorate dorky dork, were in the same circle as a film major?” she asked. “

What the hell is ‘doctorate dorky dork’ supposed to mean?

“She double majored actually. Film and political science.”

Emily double checked the file, “And Reid’s right. Per usual.” 

“Reid and Prentiss, Y/L/N has agreed to talk to us in her home. She lives in the Hills. When we land, you guys go talk to her.” Hotch stated. 

“Why?” I said before I could stop myself. The team sat in confused silence in reaction to my bluntness, but Hotch, like always, was not having it. 

“Because we have a serial killer that is reenacting the murders in her movie, Reid.” his tone was stern and swift, with a patronizing sarcasm I supposed I deserved. 

“Sorry,” I got out, “I guess I just meant..why me?” 

“Well, you know her don’t you?” Rossi asked. 

I was not ready to divulge the personal details between me and this girl to my entire team, so I just pursed my lips and nodded. 

“Right. Sorry.” 

----

Life is not a spectacle or a feast; it is a predicament. George Santayana. I was in the biggest fucking predicament I’d ever encountered in my life. 

Nothing could slow the incessant, double time pounding in my chest. I was showing symptoms of the beginning of a heart attack. Hopefully I would die and never have to face this.

Fuck, don’t think that.

Have the seats in these cars always been this uncomfortable? God, is California always this hot?

I looked at Emily for half a second, and instantly recognized that keeping quiet from her was proving to be dysfunctional. I could feel her eyes burning into my brain with every profiling skill she knew.

“What are you not saying Reid?” 

I sighed. “Do I have to tell you?” 

“Yeah. Unless you want me to just find out on my own. It’ll be a lot less delicate.” 

Here goes nothing. 

“I dated her. For two years. I was very much in love with her. It ended....abruptly. I haven’t spoken to her since, and now, nine years later, I am on my way to her house. I might have a heart attack.” 

Emily's eyes widened, “Shit..” She laughed a little, “Reunited at last?.” 

I answered with a glare. Hard no.

“Fine, sorry.” She said, masking a giggle with a cough.

I shifted in my seat and I could practically see the gears in Emily’s profiler cerebrum spin. She knew exactly the question to ask. “Is it nerves?”  

I nodded my head, “I was a very different person back then.” 

“Nothing like time and the bureau can change somebody.” she said. “But, hey..”She smiled again and my eyes widened when I realized what I’d revealed. “I asked you if you were nervous. I didn’t-” 

“Emily..” I started. 

“Are you nervous she won’t like you now? Do you still like her?” her mouth hung open, “Oh my god Reid!” 

I shook my head, “No, I don’t still like her! I don’t even know her anymore! I just..I’d never loved somebody the way I loved her.” 

Emily had figured me out at the same time I had. “And you still haven’t.” 

Fuck.

“Correct.” 

The car pulled into her driveway, and conversations from all those years ago started to replay in my head. 

“When we get a house, can we paint our front door bright blue?” 

“I want a lemon tree in the front yard.” 

“Windows. Huge windows. It’s a must.” 

All these things I’d promised her in our future home she’d gotten for herself. Good. 

Fontaine said “Sadness flies away on the wings of time”, but the pain I felt from the loss of her was as prominent as ever. 

Here goes nothing. 

---

Thank you for reading!

a/n2 :  this is completely unedited so if its sucks dick i am sorry :/ i just wanted to post it lol

A/n 3: the typos oh my fuck. I wanna Kick myself for letting this cute fic  be up in that state for so long. Anyway, fixed! :) 

[idiotwhotalkstoomuch]

I never expected you guys to like demon Senjuro so much lol I’m really happy to see that like it was such a random impulse thought but the au has a lot of room for growth

In this post Im gonna establish a few things about what happened to Senjuro and Kyojuro in the events between Senjuro’s “death” and the pillar meeting. I will only cover their relationship and a little bit of Senjuro’s relationship with Tanjiro. The others can come at a different post cause this post is gonna be long lol so I put it under cut cause no one really wants a post to flood their dash

TW: Mentions of death (some are children), mentions of cannibalism (If you’ve seen even the first episode of demon slayer and had no problem, you’re fine with this post. This post is slightly not anime only friendly as I make references to an upper moon and I show a manga only panel as of posting this) Shnjuro gets really depressed but luckily there is no attempted suicide

Senjuro Rengoku

- His class was at the bottom floor and they were cleaning the school (I heard thats a thing in Japan if someone has a better idea on what they’re doing feel free to shoot an ask) when they got attacked

- In canon we dont know his age but I’m gonna guess like 12-14 but in the au he is 13 so he was 12 when he became a demon. A rogue demon attacked Senjuro’s class and Senjuro ran to get help and was fatally injured but still managed run to get help as he was given a nichirin sword and even if it didnt change color he must have known breathing techniques at the very least on a basic level and the demon was too preoccupied with some of the teachers and others trying to kill the demon, of course unaware of what it was except for Senjuro

- Upper moon 4 was sneaking around when he saw the all but dead body of Senjuro and demons really dont have standards for turning people into demons so when he noticed he was alive, turned him into a demon mostly so that if he did find any “evil people” (demon slayers) he could use him as his meat shield alongside his personalities

- When Senjuro woke up as a demon (cause even if he was a breath user he was very inexperienced so Hantengu had no problem making him a demon), he had no memory of his life as a human and looked around trying to find a human to satiate his hunger and saw a human in the distance with someone and began to run to them to satiate his hunger when he felt himself being held back. 

- The spirit of Ruka Rengoku gently held her son back and instructed him to not eat humans as that’s not something he should do and even if Senjuro couldn’t recognize the woman holding him back, he found himself obeying her and running to go to a place to hide from the sun

- From that moment on for a few day he would hop from place to place whether underneath homes, in caves or any place he could find to avoid being seen and to be shielded from the sun and found himself growing sleepy so in the cave he hid in, far away from the place he was last in, he closed his eyes and fell asleep for a year

- When he woke up, he had unwittingly burnt away Muzan’s control of him and was unsure on what to do when Ruka’s spirit appeared again telling him that he needs to find his way home. Senjuro wasn’t actually listening to a lot of what she said except one thing stuck to him. 

- “Senjuro”, he didn’t know what his name was as a demon but the name seem to stick to him and he figured this must be his name (he would of course be correct)

- When he found himself staying with the Kamaboko squad, having been spared despite being a demon due to him not having any form of aggression to them (something they all noticed due to his general demeanor and their enhanced sense) and Tanjiro could smell he hadnt eaten one human and he invited him to join them. He joined Nezuko in her box (she can grow really really tiny if she wants or is tired)

Reference: 

Kny chapter 85

- He joined for two reasons: One, he was really scared of people and demon slayers especially so when Tanjiro offered him the chance to be able to be safe and hide he took it. Secondly, he wasn’t sure but the smile Tanjiro gave and his warm reassurance reminded of him of someone, when he thought hard he only saw blurry shadows and got a headache so didn’t try to push it

- Tanjiro did ask him in the wisteria house while Zenitsu was chatting with Nezuko and Inosuke was off being Inosuke about his past and Senjuro told him about his brief meetings with a woman with black hair and asks if they’ve met before as he feels familiar

- This is where he gets the idea that the woman with black hair (Ruka) is his mother and Tanjiro guesses that the person that he thinks is Tanjiro must be his father (right on the first part Tanjiro but wrong on the second lol, you tried)

- He wears a cyan yukata with a new hakama pants as the clothes he was previously wearing was the same bloodstained clothes he wore after turning into a demon and Tanjiro didnt want to leave him in that. Tanjiro thought to get him a gag but the idea made Senjuro uncomfortable so Tanjiro made him swear to never eat a single human

- In Mount Nagatumo, he was too scared to jump out to protect Tanjiro like Nezuko but when she gets sliced up he leaves the box to watch her while Tanjiro fights Rui, unfortunately he is caught in Rui’s webs like Nezuko and was saved from it by Nezuko flames (though it did burn him a fair bit, Nezuko would apologize to him for this later)

- Giyuu doesn’t kill Senjuro cause his resemblance to Kyojuro despite the different clothes and demon eyes is clear to anyone who can see and Shinobu also finds herself hesitating but shakes those feelings off as Kyojuro deserves better than to see his little brother as a demon. Luckily Giyuu stops him and Senjuro runs with Nezuko and Tanjiro but is later taken back to the demon slyer corps by a Kakushi who put him and Nezuko back in their box

- When Sanemi stabbed the box, he moved to try and protect Nezuko but the box was too cramped and they both got stabbed despite his efforts. Later when he tries to bait him with his marechi blood, he’s too focused on resisting the blood and on Nezuko who he had grown to see as a sister to care about the wide eyed looks the pillars were giving him.

Kyojuro Rengoku (I am so sorry in advance Kyojuro simps I put this man THROUGH IT)

- He had just finished a mission and was going to get another mission when a crow he hadn’t seen work in years came flying to him, obviously panicked telling him how Senjuro’s school was attacked and how no one can find Senjuro among the bodies. The crow was Shinjuro’s

- When he hears that, all the kakushi and other demon slayers present would say they had never seen the flame pillar run so frantically, he only stopped to apologize briefly if he bumped into someone while running but the only thing racing in his mind was his little brother who had no weapon to defend himself with. He forced the image of his brother being nothing but a corpse away only thinking about saving Senjuro

- When he reached the school, he forced himself to calm down. Panicking isn’t going to magically bring Senjuro to him so he needs to keep himself in check because with so many people dead, he’s not the only one concerned over the kids

- There were no survivors on the area that was attacked, the police were there investigating the deaths of the many children and teachers, Kyojuro had to spend time convincing the police he was with them and to be allowed to investigate as well

- With no survivors, he heard from the police that there was a blood trail when they got there and he went to find the trail, when he reached the end of it where there were no traces of Senjuro but since the people there were untrained civilians, Senjuro was the only possible person to have been there

- He spent multiple days searching, Mitsuri was at one point sent to check on him and it was clear he was pushing himself, as days passed by, his composure and bright demeanor were crumbling and he started latching onto any lead to at the very least find the body of Senjuro to take back home but it was becoming clear that he would never find it and a kakushi had to be the one to tell him that his body was likely eaten to the bone or eaten and discarded to either rot away or eaten by someone else

- Kyojuro took a week off, not just because of the grief he felt at that moment but because he needed to check on his father and make sure he would be okay, the man didn’t even face Kyojuro when he came in to visit, he forced himself to not cry in front of his father as he tried to talk to the man who couldn’t even say a word and just drank away even as his eldest son tried to talk to him

- Servants were hired to monitor Shinjuro by Kyojuro as he was concerned about his health both physically and mentally but he did notice how Shinjuro never resisted to being taken care of by the people he hired. They reported to him he could be heard muttering Senjuro’s name and even stares at his room for extended periods of time

- When he made his return, he apologized to the pillars for his behavior the past two weeks (even though no one blamed the man, some even said it was okay if he needed more time, they wouldn’t judge) but whenever he was told that he said he had to be strong to protect the weak so he could be someone that could stop families from ending up like his own

- He was far more determined in killing demons, demon attacks had become personal to him now, whenever he saw a demon eating people he found himself wondering what they must’ve thought in the afterlife as the demon desecrated their bodies

- In the pillar meeting, when he was informed of a swordsman who travelled with not one but two demons, he felt disgust as who knows how many humans they could eat. On the way to the meeting, he couldn’t help but notice Shinobu deliberately avoiding him a bit, Giyuu was doing the same but the man never really talked with them much to begin with

- When he saw Senjuro go out of the box with Nezuko, he felt the smile on his face drop and his heart practically sunk to the core of the earth as he saw the unmistakable hair of a Rengoku and the face was so clearly Senjuro’s despite his eyes having a black sclera and his iris and pupil becoming cat like, the pillars had all turned to see if the flame pillar was alright and he could hear Himejima mutter prayers and Mitsuri was on the verge of tears seeing Senjuro alive but as a demon

- He found himself going into denial until Tanjiro, who had been freed as Obanai left to comfort the distressed love pillar, ran and yelled Senjuro’s name and told him to resist his hunger

- “My sister and the other demon with us are different! They would never eat a human!”

- Senjuro was a good kid, he was innocent, kind and a bit on the timid side. He had helped raise him, he knew Senjuro would never want to harrm a fellow human even when threatened.