#sorry guys i’m too proud of this art to say sorry

[cable-salamdr]

I’d personally apologize but this is kinda funny so No

sorry guys for the cable art reblog spam it WILL happen again

[click4rainy]

Masked Man//Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[taegularities]

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep. 

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear. 

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion. 

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work. 

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching. 

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh… 

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you. 

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too. 

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks. 

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting. 

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

[kairoot]

FIRSTS W/ HEESEUNG !

⟢ pairing : heeseung x reader ➖ genre : fluff, suggestive ➖ requested : no ➖ warnings : none really, kissing, nicknames, joking around, mentions of being tipsy ➖ wc: 755

FIRST DATE — on your first date, heeseung was pretty nervous cause he wanted to make a good first impression but he tried to act cool. (and the cool act worked.) it started with subtle conversation and he didn’t even mean for you to take what he was saying as a way of asking you out. but boy, was he proud of himself. he was very flirty, but a gentleman during your date and would only ask you what you wanted to do, making sure you were comfortable at all times.

“you know, i’d really like to visit that new amusement park sometime.”

“why don’t we go?” you said, nudging him gently.

“oh, well, i-“

“c’mon it’ll be fun!”

so in reality, you asked him out first but it was worth it. he won you a few prizes and one big panda plushie. (i should make a more detailed hc about this.)

HOLDING HANDS — it was on your first date actually! hee wanted to make sure you were safe and close to him since the amusement park was PACKED. he inched closer to you while you were walking and subtly slipped his hand into yours. his fingers intertwined with yours tightly, pulling you closer to his side.

FIRST KISS — it was a New Year’s party you guys attended. you both had a bit too much to drink. you were all over eachother on the sofa, his arm wrapped around you and your body leaning into his chest. it was all just smiles and giggles until you both got a bit too close and couldn’t back away. heeseung couldn’t stop looking at your lips and you caught onto his gaze, your very tipsy mind still being able to see his intentions. eventually, his pouty lips were on yours, placing a wet kiss against them. your lips moved in sync until you gently pushed him away to breathe and before anything got too heated.

“i-i’m sorry, i-“

“no, no, i just couldn’t breathe,” you giggled, gripping his arm.

“c’mon, let’s take an Uber to my place. or yours, i really don’t care.”

FIRST ‘I LOVE YOU’ — you guys were FaceTiming when heeseung accidentally ended the call with a ‘love you’. he quickly called back with his face and ears all red, apologizing. it took you by surprise but you were smiling at how flustered he got because, well, he took himself by surprise.

“i didn’t mean to-“

“it’s okay, hee. i love you too, baby.” you giggled, a smile forming on his face.

he gave you a few compliments and couldn’t stop saying ‘i love you’ but eventually said his goodnights and hung up again.

FIRST FIGHT — you and heeseung try not to buttheads but every couple has fights whether they’re healthy or not. you both have definitely had your share. your first fight occurred when you had invited heeseung to your house and he didn’t arrive at the time he said he would. which of course, you got worried. the man wasn’t answering your calls or texts and it was getting unbelievably late. when he finally did arrive, he smelled of alcohol and sweat.

“heeseung, where have you been?! i’ve called, i’ve texted, heck- i nearly emailed!”

he walked over toward you after locking the door, softly grabbing your wrists.

“i was out, baby, i-“

“out where? cause you smell like you had a butt load of soju.”

heeseung was definitely not aware of the dilemma or how worried you were.

his face softened and his smile fell. he saw the small bags under your eyes; seeing as it was late, you didn’t sleep at all, wanting to know where in the world your boyfriend could be.

“i know. after work, i went out with the guys and i completely forgot to tell you that i would be late, i’m sorry.”

you sighed, shaking your head.

“heeseung, you have a girlfriend now. you can’t just forget to tell me these things.”

FIRST ANNIVERSARY — heeseung took you to multiple places during the day of your anniversary. a bakery, art class, you name it. but at night, you both stayed in his apartment. he set you both up with a movie and a bunch of snacks that were definitely not good for either of you. you even went outside to stargaze for a little bit, along with him making cheesy pick-up lines about you and the stars. you both went back in eventually, pulling an all-nighter with tons of games and more movies.

★ ★ ★

milan’s note: can you tell i’m in my heeseung era

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz — message or comment to be added

[ljaylmaoo]

Only Yours

hook x fem!reader

summary: you and hook have a relationship that everyone wishes they could experience and someone tries to break you two apart

genre: very angsty, also extremely fluffy

warnings: hook is really soft in this lol, hickeyss, arguments, there’s a kiss without consent in this, I think that’s it

a/n: hii! this is my FIRST post and one-shot that I wrote out of pure boredom lol. if there’s any typos sorry, I wrote this from 2 am to 7 am in one go lol. please let me know what you think after, AND PLEASE feel free to send requests! as I had a lot of fun writing this and would love to write more! hope you enjoy! thank you :)

word count: 3.6k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

At the moment, you were doing the final touches of your makeup in anticipation of Castlecoming. You weren’t very fond of wearing a dress. Sure you loved fashion, but dresses? Most certainly not. But you promised Bridget that if she got Ella to wear a dress, you would too. You also wanted to surprise your boyfriend James who would never expect you to actually wear a gown such as this one. So there you stood, admiring your figure in the gold, arched, full length mirror that sat in the corner of your dorm after brushing on some highlighter on the highest part of your cheekbones and tip of your nose. You cursed at yourself for liking the way the gown looked on you.

“Wow..”

The sudden low whisper like voice from the left of you made you jump a bit then relaxed when you recognized the comforting voice of your boyfriend which instantly washed away the nerves you previously had. You glanced over your shoulder, a radiant smile that couldn’t be hidden even if you tried crept up as you caught the sight of your breathtakingly beautiful lover carrying a bouquet of your favourite flowers in one hand and a box with a bow that held a corsage that luckily matched your dress perfectly.

He slowly made his way up to you, taking in every detail of the rare sight that lied in front of him. He gently set down the box on your vanity, “Art has no depiction that’s fitting of your description. Even the most ignorant would applaud and long for my loves radiance.”

A soft blush washed over your cheeks, “says you, my pretty boy.” You giggle taking the flowers he presented to you with a bow and placed your arms around his neck with him pulling your waist close to him. James has always been a romantic. Every compliment he gives makes Shakespeare’s poems seem dull. Everyone in the academy ached to have your kind of love. And the girls were envious of how James showed his love for you. Always showing you off every chance he gets. He was proud to call you his. He also could never keep his hands off of you, always had to be touching you someway twenty four seven.

Though you two were infatuated with love for one another, there would be the odd argument that would leave you not talking for a day or two which was usually due to his mean and sometimes cruel words that he really didn’t mean. He was still a VK after all.

“Doesn’t my darling look ravishing today?” Was something he would ask the VKs daily as he watched from afar with googoo eyes while smiling like an idiot as you were laughing and talking with your friends, not taking his eyes off you once. Even if you were in a fight and not talking that day.

“Aren’t you guys in a fight?”

“Doesn’t make her any less breathtaking and heavenly to look at.”

These days were torture for him. He tried to be tough and not show how much he was suffering without you, but it never lasted long. By the time he finally breaks he comes knocking on your door with a teddy and “I’m sorry” flowers with him apologizing profusely almost leaving him in tears begging you to take him back explaining how lonely his bed is and how he missed being tangled up with you in your bed every night having the ability to hold you close to him as you drifted off to sleep, and of course you can never stay mad at him. Especially when he’s making himself look like a fool in front of others as they passed by not caring if they judged him by how pathetic he looked, his mind only being set on getting you back.

He was also very protective and possessive of you. If anyone was mean to you or dared try to lay a hand on you flirtatiously, he wasn’t afraid to handle them himself or he would aggressively yet still carefully grab your waist, sometimes with his hook, and kiss you in front of them before smirking at them and watched with satisfaction as they rolled their eyes and walked off. He’d also sometimes give you a few hickeys, making sure that they were as visible as possible. you both wore a necklace with each other’s initials engraved and a diamond heart.

He had also gifted you a beautiful promise ring for your one year anniversary and you’ve worn it ever since.

His favourite pastime was gazing at you while you did your schoolwork or as you slept in his arms. “My heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own.” Is just one of the many examples he would say whenever you got insecure and were in denial. He always made sure you knew his devotion to you was for eternity.

You were soulmates without a doubt. Twin flames.

He kissed you passionately, hungrily placing his soft plump lips on yours. You melted into his touch, smiling at his desperation to get as physically close to you as possible in anyway he could. You tried to pull away to catch your breath but he wouldn’t let you, “James” you laughed with his lips still attached to yours, lightly pushing him away at his chest.

He finally pulled away, “yes, love?” He smiled still staring at your lips, lovingly

“I could barely breathe” you laughed again, “I’m sorry darling, I just can’t ever get enough of you.” He shamelessly admitted. You both stayed close admiring each other’s features, leaving no room in between. His hands still firm on your lower back as you stroked his hair. His hair was probably your favourite feature of his. It was soft and always the perfect length, swept back.

“I love you so much.” you whispered looking into his eyes while fixing his collar and necklaces after messing it up a bit from the kiss

“Not as much as I do you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think so” you replied knowing you always lose the ‘I love you more’ arguments. He laughed, “oh darling, we both know that’s not possible. My love for you will remain as infinite as the stars.” He said while caressing your cheek. You placed your hand on top of his and smiled shyly. He grabbed the box off of the vanity and took the corsage out, he gently took your hand and slid it onto your wrist then kissed your hand softly. “There you are my love.” He said while looking up at you. You had your hand on your chest, “oh my goodness! Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You said while looking at it in awe. He smiled, “of course darling.” He gave you a quick kiss and lead you to the door and opened it, “after you, gorgeous.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and James entered the ballroom together with your arm wrapped around his and hands intertwined looking around the huge decorated room. It was everything you’d imagined it would be. Everyone dressed up in breathtakingly beautiful suits and gowns scattered around the room mingling with their friends or dancing with their loved ones as music played in the background. James watched you in adoration, the amazement in your eyes made them sparkle along with the light glistening from the chandeliers above. The two of you got some glances from your peers of course as you were named ‘Best Couple’ in the yearbook and everyone adored your relationship for the most part. Among the people who were jealous, there was one girl in particular that absolutely despised your relationship. That girl goes by the name of Aria. (if your name is Aria I’M SORRY LMAO) She hated how happy you guys were especially of how loving James was towards you and hated how much people adored your relationship.

She was also James’ ex girlfriend.

They were together for eight months and broke up just five months before you both officially started dating. During those eight dreadful months, they were extremely toxic. They would get into pointless heated arguments on a daily basis at school, some even resulting in James earning a slap to the face, but then would be seen back together by the end of the day making out by the lockers or something. You knew of James beforehand because he was part of Uliana’s crew and also because you had to pass his locker almost everyday in order to get to class and that was usually where they would have their fights. He never paid any attention to you at first, but when Uliana began tormenting Bridget, you caught his eye. He’d constantly try to flirt with you and you would often find him to be staring at you whenever you weren’t looking. One thing led to another and after four months of his many attempts to try and get to you, you finally gave in and decided to give him a chance and a month later, it was made official. You don’t know what changed in him for him to treat you the complete opposite of how he treated Aria and she hated you for it though she couldn’t do anything about it because she knew what he and the VK’s would do if she did. So she always judged from afar, only doing as much as giving you a glare everytime you made eye contact. She wanted to try and sabotage your relationship the night of Castlecoming and break the two of you up, so she came with a plan.

Aria was with her friends when one of them spoke up, “woah, they look grossly fabulous tonight..” she turned and her jaw dropped instantly when she saw the two of you on the other side of the room talking to Uliana and the rest of the group, James spinning you around to show off your gown. She boiled with rage and turned back to her friends, “yeah, we are definitely going to break them up tonight.”

As James was talking with Morgie, you spotted your friends Bridget and Ella so you lightly tapped his shoulder and leaned in to whisper making sure Uliana didn’t notice as she was currently talking with Maleficent beside you, “I’m going to go say hi to Bridget and Ella, okay?” He looked down at you and kissed gave you a quick kiss, “okay, love.” You gave one more kiss on the cheek before heading off towards your friends.

Bridget squealed with excitement as she saw you approaching them, “oh my gosh! Y/n?! You look amazing!” She came up and pulled you into a hug, squeezing tightly to express how proud she was. “I know, I know” you jokingly said after she let go while blushing a bit. You smiled and hugged Ella, “wow I didn’t actually think I’d see you in a dress, like ever.” Ella gave a small smile and laughed, “I could say the same to you.” You scoffed, “well of course I did. We wouldn’t wanna disappoint our girl here now, would we?” You said while patting Bridget on the shoulder who was bursting with excitement jumping up and down while clapping her hands, “okay we need! To take pictures, come on!” She insisted before pulling you both over to the Photo Booth.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was later into the night and you were dancing with James, Ella had to go home due to her strict curfew her stepmother gave her, and Bridget went back to her dorm to let you and James have some time together. Aria and her friends watched you with rage as you were gazing into each other’s eyes lovingly, waiting for the perfect moment to begin her plan. He spun you around as the song ended and kissed your hand before leading you off the dance floor, “could I get you another drink, my love?” He questioned, “yeah, sure. I’ll be over there I just have to go to the bathroom quick.” He nodded and the two of you went your separate ways.

Aria smirked at her friends as the first part of her plan had come. She slyly walked off to the fruit punch table and stood in front of it waiting for James to walk up. “Hi James.” She said suspiciously sweet, he only rolled his eyes and scoffed, “what do you want? Can you move, please?” Aria gave a fake pout, “what? All I did was say hi.” She said innocently, “oh did you want some punch? I’ll get them for you.” She turned and grabbed two cups, “two right? One for you and one for your little girlfriend?” James had his arms crossed and stood impatiently, looking away from her, “yup.” Aria giggled and poured the first one, “here’s yours” she smiled before turning to pour the other. James took a sip of the drink while he waited.

A few moments later, you finished touching up your make up after washing your hands in the bathroom and walked out towards the punch table but you stopped in your tracks. There, in front of the punch table was Aria who had forcefully pulled James into an unexpected kiss. Your heart shattered at the sight. You made eye contact with James who had a shocked and angry expression that you couldn’t see. Your eyes welled up with tears before you ran out of the ballroom. James pushed Aria off him, “get off of me! What the hell, Aria?” He scolded before shoving the punch into her hands and ran after you. She watched him run after you with a smirk taking a sip in satisfaction.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You came bursting into your room as you cried, slipping off your heels and taking the accessories out of your hair and throwing them onto the vanity followed by your earrings and necklace. You ripped the corsage off your wrist and threw it into the trash can beside you. You studied yourself in the mirror, hating yourself for deciding to wear a gown only to surprise the one you thought loved you most only for them to humiliate you and look like a fool. You went and sat down on your bed as you cried into your hands. James came into the dorm in a panic causing you to jump, “Love, I can explain!” You furrowed your eyebrows in anger while looking at him in disgust, “no! I don’t want to hear it, James!”

���No, no, no, really darling! It wasn’t what it looked-“ you got up from the bed, “Oh yeah? Cause it looked like my boyfriend was kissing his ex girlfriend by the punch table!”

“Well yes but-“

“Do you still have feelings for her, James?” You yelled as you walked closer, “were you only using me to get back at her? Did you even love me?!” He was stuttering as he tried to answer every question you threw at him, “what? No! Of course I do!” He tried but you continued to yell at him, causing him to get angry and the screaming match began. It never ever got this bad before. If the dance wasn’t still going on, everyone would for sure be able to hear every insulting and harsh words you were throwing at each other. There were hot tears streaming down your faces as you continued. But as bad as it was, and as much as you wanted to, neither of you had the willpower to officially call the relationship off. You loved each other too much to do so and you both knew that.

You took the flowers he gave you earlier off your desk and harshly shoved them into his chest, “Get out! I don’t want you here! Leave!” You pushed him out the door and slammed it in his face. You took a deep breath and turned around, and started towards your bed. You didn’t know what to think or how to feel. You knew what he was saying made sense and knew he loved you far too much to ever do something to hurt you. But you don’t know why you kept going at him.

You sat down and stared down at the floor, your mind so lost in deep thought that you didn’t even realize you had changed out of your dress and into your pyjamas. You looked down at the shirt you’d just finished putting on and sighed, it was his shirt. You shut your lamp off and lied down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling as the thoughts in your head continued to flow. Why was he with Aria in the first place for that to happen? He shouldn’t have let that happen. But after a while you felt really bad for what you had said to him and the names you called him. But was he mad at you now too? You heard something that was slid under the crack of your door, you sat up and looked at the little piece of paper that was on the floor. You turned your lamp back on and slowly walked over and picked it up. You opened the paper, “My Beautiful Darling Y/n, no matter how much we fight, the love I have for you will never fade. You will never be unloved by me for you are far too well tangled in my soul. The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I’m so very sorry I let this happen, My Love.” You wiped a tear from your cheek as you finished reading. You set the note down on your nightstand and lied back down on your bed.

You tried to fall asleep but you just couldn’t. You missed the feeling of being secured and safe in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep. Your bed felt cold. Lonely.

After a few more minutes of attempting to force yourself to sleep, you got up and crept out of your room and down the stairs and proceeded down another long hallway before stopping in front of an all too familiar door. You stared at it, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea. But before you could make a decision, you were already making your way inside the dark room. You quietly walked towards the bed, softly and carefully getting under the covers making sure not to wake him. The warmth and familiarity of his body heat made you feel at ease. You looked over at his sleeping figure who was facing towards you and traced his features with your eyes, admiring everything about him and couldn’t help but smile. You really did love this boy with all your heart.

You turned away from him and sighed before closing your eyes to sleep, but just as you were drifting off, you felt an arm snake around your figure, pulling you close. You smiled and melted into his body as you felt the warmth of him engulf your backside, placing your hand on top of his that was placed above your stomach under your shirt. Well, his shirt. He pulled you closer and you felt him softly stroking your hair. Though it has only been a few hours since you’ve felt his touch, it felt like forever. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped your arms around him scrunching the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands while burying your face deep into his chest, he had managed to somehow pull you closer though it was physically impossible already.

“I’m sorry.” He heard your soft voice cry, muffled from being buried in his chest. He shook his head and stroked your head, “shh, no, no, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong, my love.” You let out a quiet sob which was terribly agonizing for him to hear. He looked down and placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your gaze up to his. You looked into his eyes with a pitiful gaze, he saw how broken you looked. The moonlight that seeped in through the window above his bed glistening off your tearful eyes. “Don’t cry, love..” he tried but you rambled on, spilling everything your heart was feeling at that moment causing the pieces of his already broken heart shatter into a million more pieces. He stared at you not knowing what to say after you were done, only pulling you into a deep kiss, more passionate than ever letting his body do the talking without saying any words, pulling your waist close to his. He left sloppy kisses down to your neck, lightly gracing the sensitive skin with his teeth making you gasp in pleasure and gently pull at his hair before he continued to leave his mark with a smile while telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

This continued until both your neck and chest were covered with love bites. He trailed kisses back up and kissed you once more. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily while looking into your lustful, heavy lidded eyes that were threatening to shut and noticed as your breathing slowed. He pulled you back in and you cuddled back into his chest, “I love you.” You whispered, trailing off as you began to fall into a deep, well needed slumber.

“I love you too, Darling.” He whispered, leaving a delicate kiss on your forehead and rested his head on yours as you both drifted off to sleep.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Pregnant with Patrick’s Daughter (Challengers)

Description: Y/N is pregnant with Patrick’s baby but she’s with Art.

Word Count:986

Request: "Maybe something with a pregnant reader and like Patrick’s the dad. It could be fluff or angst, idk I’m just curious to see how the dynamic between Patrick and like his child would be lol!”

Author’s note: I added a twist in it. Hope you like it!

Y/N looked down at the pregnancy test in shock. Her and Patrick used protection or did they? She honestly couldn’t remember but this was bad news. She was with Art and fucking Patrick. Though she knows that it’s not Art’s kid because he’s been too busy with Tennis to even fuck her. Art would know that the kid wasn’t his, especially if the kid looks like Patrick. Truth be told, Y/N loved Patrick and she also loved Art. It was hard for her to choose between them when they both wanted her as well. She looked at the engagement ring that was placed on her finger. She twirled it and played with it as she thought of what she was going to do. 

Art was practicing for his match today so Y/N called Patrick. The two weren’t friends anymore which made the situation worse. He thought she wanted to have sex again so he kissed her hard as soon as she opened the door. She pushed him back and he gave her a confused look. “We need to talk.” She said, he nodded and followed her to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” She demanded. “Ohh I love it when you get all dominant with me.” He smirked. She gave him a look and his smirk dropped. “Listen I don’t know what to do about this or why I'm even telling you at this point but I’m pregnant.” His jaw drops at her words, “And it’s yours because Art and I haven’t had sex in awhile.” He got up from the chair and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s great. I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. She pulled away from the hug, “Patrick, I’m with Art. He’s not gonna be happy about this.” Patrick didn’t really care. He hated Art for taking Y/N from him. That pathetic bastard got everything he wanted. “Well he’s not gonna wanna be with you since you’re carrying another man’s baby. My baby to be exact.” She glared at him. Of course he’d be happy about this. He hated Art. 

“What?” Art screeched as he stood up from the couch. It didn’t make sense why Patrick was here but now it did. “Art, I’m sorry this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” She tells him. Patrick had a proud smirk on his face. “Found out what? That you’re fucking my ex best friend and having his baby?” Y/N looked at him with a guilty expression. She really did feel bad. “Art it’s hard for me.” She said with tears in her eyes. “You’re crying? You’re fucking my ex best friend and you’re crying?” He yelled. “Art, I love you both.” Patrick didn’t know that she loved him, nor did Art. “What?” Patrick whispered at her confession. “I love you both and I know that you guys hate each other but I can’t live without you guys.” She said, tears still streaming down her face. Patrick stood up and looked at Art who looked so broken at the news. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Art, please say something.” She begged her fiance. He shook his head and laughed. Both, Y/N and Patrick looked confused. “Get the fuck out!” He told them. “Art, please-” “Get the fuck out!” He screamed at her. 

She laid in Patrick’s bed with tears streaming down her face. Her belly bigger and full with Patrick’s baby. It’s been 6 months since Art kicked her out. He hadn’t spoken to either of them, not that she thought he would. He had the right to be upset with her. She cheated on him and got pregnant. But it still hurt her a lot, she loved them both and it was selfish that she felt sad because she had Patrick. But she wanted both. The front door opened and she quickly wiped her tears. Patrick made his way to the bedroom to see Y/N and her tummy full of his baby. He smiled at the sight. She saw him enter the bedroom and smiled at him. He came and collapsed on the bed next to her. He turned towards her and stared at her stomach. “I can’t wait til she’s born.” He said and placed his hand on her tummy. She smiled and agreed with him. She placed her hand on his and the baby kicked. They both gasped and looked at each other. This was the first time they baby kicked for Patrick. Tears started forming in his eyes as he smiled. “I finally felt her kick.” Y/N nodded and ran her fingers through his hair. 

Y/N watched as Patrick gave their 4 year old daughter a racket. She chuckled as their daughter kept dropping it but everytime Patrick gave her it again. He was so patient with her and so sweet. It made Y/N’s heart melt. She giggled as their daughter almost hit Patrick with the racket. He looked at his wife and smiled at her. She got up from her seat and walked over to them. “Try not to kill daddy, sweetheart.” She joked. Their 4 year old giggled and gave the racket to Y/N. Y/N took it and melted when she ran into Patrick’s arms. Patrick smiled and hugged her back. Y/N felt happiness in her life, ever since their daughter was born. She didn’t think of Art anymore, unless she saw him on the news. He was a pro tennis player like Patrick and he married Tashi Duncan. She was happy for him, truly. “Hey uh I guess now would be the time to tell you that I’m playing in the challengers and Art will be there.” Her smile dropped at his name. She had a bad feeling about this and almost told him not to go. But she would be by his side with their daughter to support him. She wouldn’t let Art being there ruin this for them.

[faithst]

LIVESTREAMS WITH ZB1

pairing zb1 x idol!reader

genre mostly comedy, maybe fluff ? reader is in zb1 🤝

warnings mentions of food/drinks in hao and hanbin’s

notes hi anon, thank you for requesting ! i didn’t want this to be romantic as idol life is,, something.. but still, i hope you enjoy this ! 🫶

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

you’re playing drinking games

and before you ask, no. it’s not actual alcohol

you mix up the most unhinged drink combinations

like soy milk + tea + mountain dew 😃

the drink literally has particles in it

you play the ‘of course’ game and it turns ugly real quick

“you know that i’m better than you at everything, right?” zhanghao says, feeling proud

“of course! zhanghao.. you know that hanbin loves me more, right?” a smirk tugging on your lips that zhanghao so desperately wanted to slap off

loses the game because of that and has to chug down every drop (he’s ok tho i think)

“you’re lucky we’re live right now.”

— sung hanbin

since he was a barista, you guys are making drinks

he teaches you some tips and tricks but it’s more complicated than you think

his drink is so much more visually pleasing than yours although you both followed the same steps 😭

like pretty gradient colors that blend well together

but it’s expected cuz he’s a professional

you do a taste test

and his drink tastes like heaven 👍

you offered yours to him and he tries it

ngl, you were nervous about his opinion

“uh, it’s definitely a new experience.”

— seok matthew

some kind of crafts live

where you both are making those bead bracelets

you make ones for eachother and also the other members !

and matthew is all like ‘oh, you’re gonna love what i made for you’

he’s so proud of his creations

and at some point he accidentally spills every bead onto the table 😭

and you both take a look at eachother like 😐

and it becomes quiet for a whole 5 minutes as he picks everything back up

after that, you both continue making bracelets for the other members 🫶

“jiwoon hyung likes this color, i know him better than you!”

— shen ricky

painting live

you guys are making paintings to hang on eachothers walls

it’s actually pretty chill with ricky 👍

but then he accidentally splattered some paint onto his designer white shirt

his honest reaction to that: ☹️

but its okay, he can just buy a new one. maybe get a car too while he’s at it

since ricky is really good at arts

you wanted to paint him smth nice too

so you just put your autograph onto the canvas

he loves it tho and keeps it in his room 😔

“i can sell this!”

— park gunwook

workout stream

it was actually supposed to be a live for gunwook and matthew

but matthew had to do smth else

so you offered to accompany gunwook instead !

gunwook shares his workout tips and you just nod and agree

you both share your workout routines and people make articles abt them 🫢

‘zb1’s gunwook and y/n workout routine: is it effective?’

oh and you also get thirst trap edits bcuz of this

flaunting your muscles and abs and stuff idk 😭

“do you guys wanna know the secret to my godly physique?”

— kim taerae

from the content we have now..

it’s 100% a karaoke live

wbk he loves singing and he wanted to invite you to ‘taerae show #2��

has his anpanman guitar, ready at hand 🤝

you both have a blast singing and taerae becomes main rapper at some point

he’s so immersed in the ballad songs, he prolly starts crying for effects 😔

biggest hypeman

like he’s all ‘OH MY GOD WOAHHHH’

and he also harmonises w you

don’t be surprised when you get a compilation of ‘y/n and taerae: 5th gen main vocals’

“100 points?! i’m so good!”

— kim gyuvin

q&a stream

answering fan questions and basically fan service

“is a butt one or two?”

gyuvin actually thinks about it for a second and is like “oh my god.” 😭

it got too confusing though so you continued reading the comments

someone asked what he did today and he started thinking

“uh..” “sorry, i forgot.” you joke, making gyuvin stare daggers to you 🫢

he looks back to the screen

and with a wide smile he said

“i’m sorry zerose! i think we have to end the live here. thank you for watching!”

— kim jiwoong

makeup stream

where you do his makeup

and he’s giving you those eyes yk 👀

the comments are going crazy bcuz of it

and when you do his lips, he smiles and it curves so perfectly (ahdguajskshaikahdh)

you accidentally went overboard with the glitter

but jiwoong pulls off everything so it still looks amazing

everyone loves what you did and your makeup style is trending 👍

“i think some glitter got stuck in my eye.”

— han yujin

i don’t know why but you both are face painting

but instead of face painting on yourselves, you face paint eachother

“i’m gonna make you into a piece of art” he says as he paints a streak onto your face

he stops to take a step back and look at everything from a bigger picture

and bursts into laughter 😃

you’re so worried abt what he did to you

he tries to regain his composure but laughs every few seconds

“what’s wrong? what did you do?” “nothing! i made you look very.. cool.” 😁

and then you look into a mirror and you look like shrek's offspring (yes, you get turned into a meme)

“this is my best piece yet! should i leave my signature too?”

© keiwook

[rmgkyle]

Omg sorry I’m SO late I was busy doing all the FANART for people and with work which made me really tired and sick. Yes, I’m really sick, my asthma is getting worse and my head has been hurting.

But I’m making this post for Christmas special for people I enjoy talking to/ hanging out with.

First is @smg-24

Man…you make so many art of RMG which I really appreciate by the way because you drew her A LOT, and that’s not all..I really enjoy ur company and helped me with stuff I was struggling with. You put a smile on my face every time I see you online or whenever we are on call. I love our friendship so much I never regret meeting you at all tbh, you make my day so much better because of ur personality and being around you makes everything better . I hope we stay best friends forever.🫶🏻💗

Next up is @mikchi8

Mikchi. How do I even start-

You are really funny in general and have good jokes, it makes me laugh every time. And also, you just are interesting too..I MEAN like you crazy and all but you still are a good person. Whenever I see u in the vc’s I join because you light up my mood, even when ur only in there. I like the way u act and I like ur style with ur ocs, it very classy and adorable.Im so glad I met you because you’re the most I talk to in the server. Your friendship has brought so much joy and positivity into my life.🫶🏻💗

Then is @knightedmares

Bro..YOU ARE SO FREAKIN COOL AND AWESOME I LOVE U MAN. I really adore you a lot and you are just WAY too cool in general.You are an amazing friend and buddy, like I literally want to be you so bad. You have good taste in music and fashion on your ocs.KNIGHTMARE I wish I could give u a big tight hug for being an awesome person to everyone, including me also.You should honestly be proud of yourself for being a chill dude. I love you man���🏻💗

Other is @neo91502

Hahaha…YOU..YOU SILLY SILLY LITTLE CREATURE..First, I just want to say that your yapping in the vc’s are like music to my ears, you yap about anything which is impressive if I’m going to be honest. In general, you make silly art of the silly meme Guardians and yaoi, makes me smile every time I see them.Jokes are funnier when YOU tell them because you’re just silly crazy, possibly insane.Literally everyone loves you if you think about it, we are going crazy of you.How do you make everyone laugh? 💗🫶🏻

More @libbytwq LORE!!

I get excited everytime I see you like I’ve been a fan since 2023 when you had those non-smg4 characters.You make really creative ocs and art I mean, you had so many cool ocs I just want to eat them one by one, Especially cee cee skies.Whenever you join the vc’s I spam ur name because i love when you’re hanging around! I gotta say, you grew more for the past months that I lowkey miss ur non-smg4 characters/silly anyways 🫶🏻💗

@nxva-blogz ( I know you can’t see this but ima send it to you on discord.)

Nova I just want to appreciate the fact you lighten my day and your jokes make me crack up everytime, they are really funny and the silly stuff with hexsy.I know u are a little goofy sometimes but idc, I can be goody with you😈. Anyways- I love when you joke around with hex3 or hex4 the “Tomm you should make a comic about hex3/hex4) it makes me laugh. The stupid quotes from hexsy is hilarious bro I can’t get it outta my head.💗🫶🏻

@moonlight12086

Oh my dear moon..my little silly crazy kitty..

YOU..!!!! YOU!!! YOU I LOVE U SM BRO UR SO COOL AND I LOVE UR STYLE SO MUCH!!! Your animated shit is so cool I swear like- I love you pookie, I’m so glad I met you because you’re not leaving me /j💗I REALLY hope we stay bffs forever and ever and I wish I could hug you rn I miss you. Your style is beautiful and delicious I just want to eat it right now because I bet it would taste like Cotten candy or biscuits, possibly caramel. You put a smile on my face every time we talk💗🫶🏻

@coralalala64

Girl... You're Hilarious with ur gifs and personally, makes me weeze all day 🤣. You are a nice and good person in general to begin with and I wanna say..ur art..doodles..anything..IS YUMMY I SWEAR ESPECIALLY THE ANGST AND LITTLE FETUSES YOU MAKE AGHHH. You literally slay all day queen /j but I also want to mention that YOU EAT CHIPS IN A BOWL🤣😭 nah girl same- anyways I want to give you a million hugs because you're the best :) 🫶

@tiredsmashbros

Well....well...well..what do we have here..

YOU SILLY SILLY BURGER GOOBER MAN I SWEAR-

YOU MAKE AMAZING DELICIOUS FOOD THAT I MUNCH ONE BY ONE. YOUR COMICS ARE SO DELICIOUS, EVEN THE BOWLUIGI ONE BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SMMMM😭😭 AND U JUST MAKE ME FEEL BETTER WHEN I TALK TO YOU CAUSE UR LITERALLY TOMM?!?? WHO WOULDN'T FEEL EXCITED AND NERVOUS?! I also want to say that ive been looking at your account for a while now and when you brought up 'discord server' I was nervous and excited to meet you for the first time. We both have same interests in fandoms which is surprising tbh😟 you make me smile when u talk to me because you are my top BIGGEST IDOL. 🫶

@kittykibbl

Hey kitty... 😈

Kitty you make really good angst of van and hexsy because its so scrumptious and tasty. You are a cool, chill dude in general, literally I swear- when you draw characters they look so cartoony and jiggly it looks amazing. Sometimes you peek in the vc's to Either scare us or see how we are doing. Just to let you know, you are the most important person in the server rn this second. 🫶

If I didn't ping you or make you fanart, I APOLOGIZE BECAUSE IM REALLY SICK SO I CANT THINK RN.

MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! LOVE YOU GUYS

[firstemcee]

“Nah, It’s all good.”

Veneer x Male!Hip-Hop/Rap artist!Reader (can be read as female or gn, i jus feel like they’re male leaning. uses amab pronouns.)

Part 1(you’re here)—Part 2—

Warnings: just cursing, as far as I know. Reader is written to talk like how I do, which might be a bit confusing to some. No use of y/n.

wc: 799

Summary: Finally getting your first vinyl on the shelves of the record shop that was practically your whole childhood was a huge accomplishment. That accomplishment also came with the well known pop-star coming to get one signed!

THIS IS ALSO MY FIRST FANFIC!! This part is gonna focus more on reader, the second will focus more on Veneer.

thank you @nym-blogs and @miralunawritez for helping me and giving me tips!!! I owe y��all, seriously 🙏🏽

“I can’t be happier my record’s being sold here, man. Really, i’m honored.” You smiled, giving the owner of the small record shop a subtle nod as you spoke with genuine happiness in your tone.

This record shop had been around since you were just a kid, and now you’ve got your first record on the shelves…here. It was just perfect.

The owner gave a small nod in return with a smile, going back to…whatever he was working on.

Award Tour (feat. Trugoy the Dove) - A Tribe Called Quest (I’d say listen to it just for vibes, but you don’t gotta) played quietly in your wired headphones, causing you to slightly nod your head to the beat as you made your way through the isles full of records in search of your own.

You never thought you’d end up here. Doing rap battles in middle school, messing around with different beats in your parent’s basement. Now you’ve finally made a name for yourself.

It brought a huge smile to your face, really. Like a kid getting just what they asked for on christmas, it was perf-

“Oh- I’m so sorry.” A guy spoke softly with hands raised in defense before you after bumping into you. You recognized this guy, who was it again…?

“Nah, it’s all good.” You spoke with a smile and a slight nod to the person who you had finally identified as the overnight pop-star, Veneer. “Nice to see you here.” You murmured, not wanting to cause too much disruption to him. You figured he was used to being interrupted when out, so you wouldn’t give him the whole: ‘Oh my godd, you’re that famous guy!! What’re you doing here—‘

Once you had finally made your way to your record, you gently picked one of them up with a proud sigh and the smile of an accomplished father. You couldn’t help but admire the art, the font, the…everything. Shit, it was yours! You’d look at it all you wanted.

You weren’t gonna look at it forever, of course. You set it down and left the store for a moment to go get a drink from one of the vending machines outside of the shop, returning to the checkout area afterwards while sipping your Fanta.

“You know, some couple just bought your record. First hour and you already got a sale, man.” Your friend at the register subtly congratulated you, earning a smile back.

Sure, one sale in an hour wasn’t much. But you were trying to break out of the underground rap. Plus, it’s a small store, you convinced yourself.

Off of work for the day, you decided to pay the shop a visit…again.

And in that visit, you found yourself looking around the back rooms behind the counter curiously. Until your name was called. “Uh— Yea! Give me a minute…” You murmured informally, stumbling out of the creaky door before making eye contact with the pop-star…again.

“He wants you to sign a record.” Lenny, one of the two guys that ever worked here spoke flatly before handing you a nice pack of bold markers with a raised brow.

“It’s a few. Just for a friend.” Veneer placed three of your vinyls on the counter before you with a sheepish smile. It’s not every day that you were the one signing something for a famous person. So of course, you picked up the yellow paint marker and gave him a small thank you before staring down at the vinyl. “Shit. How does my signature go again…?”

You shook your head to dismiss your thoughts and signed all three in yellow, brows furrowed for a moment as you smoothly glided the marker along. So focused that you didn’t notice the absolute daggers Veneer was staring into you as he watched you do so.

“So, do you uh…come here often?” Veneer asks, snapping out of his small trance and clasping his hands together in front of his chest. His poor choice of small talk made you crack a smile.

“On occasion, yeah. It’s a spot I used to come to a lot as a kid, brings back good memories.” You tried to make him more comfortable, noting his nervousness.

You handed the three back after they had dried, and set the maker down. Of course you weren’t gonna charge him.

Veneer, typically caught up in his fame, never spent any time venturing into different genres of music besides his own. So when he came over to his friends house and happily handed her her birthday gift, the signed vinyls, he was incredibly curious to hear this guy’s music. He had a pretty face, it couldn’t be that bad…

“Oh. My. G- No you didn’t.” The girl’s jaw dropped as she looked over the gift, then to Veneer. Then the gift, then Veneer…before trapping him in a suffocating hug.

“Okay! okay, oh my god, you’re welcome girl—“ Veneer stammered and patted her back with a loud laugh, though desperately trying to make her let go.

When the two eventually started listening to the music, Veneer was practically entranced. It was so different from him and Velvet’s style!

It was so energetic, but still just…calm. And it conveyed so many different emotions and there were so many words—

Clearly he wasn’t used to it.

But he didn’t mind it, not at all.

Again, this is my first fanfic!! I’d appreciate any tips you guys have if i end up doing a second part. Thank you so much for reading.

under no circumstances do i accept you posting my shit on other sites. don’t.

[purplemagics-blog]

DATING ART THE CLOWN HEADCANONS!!!🤡🖤🩶🤍

Your his

To his

TW/warning: bunch of gore and very intense descriptions of it!!, Art being a d7ck, bad language, alcohol use, mentions and descriptions of throw up (sorry), Art acting like a child, panic attacks and anxiety, Vicky slander (I hate Vicky and put a bunch of Vicky slander in the comments), masturbati0n with a piece of glass (from that one scene with Vicky), minors DNI!!, spoilers for Terrifier three and two! please tell me if I missed anything 

Bro, I love the Terrifier series but I swear to f6cking God if that little b7tch Sierra, don’t die in the next one I’m going to start tweaking out. I don’t like her she’s boring. She was much better in the Terrifier two movie. She just needs to die already. I swear to God the only thing that’s keeping me from not giving up on life completely is the fact that at least in the Terrifier movies in the future, Sierra will die.

1.) This man gets jealous for no exact reason other than he can. For a man that speaks zero, he shows 100. Honestly, even if a guy looks at you a certain way, if even if it was just a glance he’s heart is going to be inside of a jar and his heads going to be stuck on a spear.

2.) You get very very jealous of Vicky. Fucking shit you hated Vicky. You are so jealous of her and the connection she had with Art. Yeah of course you know Art is definitely controlling her but that didn’t make you any less jealous especially when you were having a very intense scene with art killing somebody broke into the place you guys called home. You both were just having a good time killing that man and making out. The feeling of his rotten teeth on yours making you want more. and you look over and she’s masturbating herself with a piece of glass?! what the fuck is wrong with that bitch?!!? You were so happy when she died 

3.) when you guys walk around the mall if he sees a mall Santa or like someone dressed up as a character from a holiday Pacific thing he turns into an actual child pointing and jumping up and down as if to say “SANTA?!!!!”

4.) if you got exes best believe their heads in a bag on your front door, especially if they’re the toxic kind. Once you were chilling with your boyfriend Art when you’re pathetic ex called you and begged you to take him back. Very much annoyed that you’re not got ruined you hung up the phone and pouted. In response Art left the abandon house you guys call home and found your ex. Next morning, you wake up and think Art is making bacon. Where did he find bacon? Who the fuck knows?? even you asked yourself that but when you look closer it was your ex’s skin…

5.) he does not drink but when your clowny ass convinces him to and he really gets in the mood he will drink like a sailor. Once he was so drunk you had to sit with him for half an hour as he throw up in a public restroom. (Headcanon no matter what he drinks or eats his throw up will always be a slime like black substance)

6.) His mood is up and down for no reason. One minute he’s basically worshiping you. All smiles and kisses. Next minute he straight up, ignoring you with that same pouty look that you adore.

7.) Tbh this man acts like a child. Whenever he makes a new weapon, he’s really proud of no matter what you’re doing showering, eating, etc. he will stop you whatever you’re doing Just show it off. 

8.) he would never ever ever even dream about laying a hand on you BUT- in the bedroom he will cut, bite, dig his nails into you etc,etc.

9.) he’s like a big puppy dog with murders intense. Whenever you’re busy doing something and you ignore him for too long he pulls out the ✨horn✨ and will not leave you alone until you pay attention to him.

10.) you were once one of his victims. You worked at a fast food restaurant where you walked in on him chewing your manager’s face off. When he first heard you walk in his first instinct, was to kill you but instead, he tried to chair and forced you to watch as all your coworkers got slaughtered one by one. Not really a way to start off a relationship, but oh well you love him either way and that one guy was getting on your nerves.

11.) you have intense trauma with your past and get lots of flashbacks and have intense anxiety which Art attempts to help you with that. Whenever you’re smashing things, having trouble breathing, etc. etc. he will try his best to help you in the worst way possible but that’s Art for you. Once you were having an episode and by the end, everything around you was broken and you were cuddled up on a dirty, bloody mattress hugging a dirty pillow. Art proceeded to walk in (a bit mocking like he was “scared of you” like the bastard he is) walked up to the bed and honked his ✨horn✨ in your ear. You responded by punching him square in the jaw. (I swear to God if he could talk, he would say “CRAZY BITCH!” LMAOOO)

12.) Yes you do feel bad for his victims. Sometimes you’ll see him killing somebody as they desperately and ignoring think that if they shout their loved ones names that will stop him. Sometimes you lay awake at night thinking about them and how their family would react.

13.) This man does not take shit seriously. Not one thing he takes seriously. Once you told him that you’re guy friend died and he proceeded to do a happy dance as in to say “THANK GOD”

14.) He LOVES cuddles. If he has you in his lap he will not let go no matter what. When you guys are sleeping together he will hold you to his chest. Honestly, it’s adorable have a guy that has killed hundreds, if not more of people is such a cuddler.

15.) Art like his partner’s chubby. More to love for him and more skin to touch and tease. (I may be a little biased because I’m a chubby person😖)

16.) you basically act like a mother figure to the little pale girl and it’s like Art is the dad you’re the mom and the little pale girl is the daughter.

Hope you guys really enjoyed this BYEEE!!

real footage of me in math class

Me trying to convince my nonexistent boyfriend to dress up as Art the clown- FOR EXPERIMENTAL PURPOSES!!!

[abaroo]

Hey guys,

I’m sorry to say that I have to end the Cowboy Swap Comic here.

There was so much I had in mind that I wanted to show you, but working on this comic has taken up too much of my time and energy, and God has shown me that I need to dedicate my time to other responsibilities and projects.

The Cowboy Swap Comic was only meant to be for practice, really. I wanted to know that I could plan and illustrate a full comic series. However, I did NOT know how much of a commitment it would be.

I’ve learned so much making this comic! My art style has changed a LOT. And I’m proud of myself for how far I’ve come.

I really wanted to finish it… I had so much more planned! And I really didn’t want to disappoint you all.

Thank you so much for your support. You guys are the reason this is so hard for me. I’ve loved every reblog and comment, and every ask. I’ve loved sharing this journey with you. I never EVER thought people would actually be able to see my silly little stories.

I hope I can come back and share more stories with you! I have other projects planned, but I can’t guarantee I’ll continue with social media. It’s a lot.

Thank you all, so much.

-Abaroo

[dahliaslove]

Can I get Stu, and Michael Myers (separate) with a fem!s/o who often draws them? Like, it can range from her drawing them doing simple things like sitting, eating, watching TV. But, she also draws them off on kills, covered in blood….maybe even nsfw drawings?????

SLASHERS W/ A GF WHO LIKES TO DRAW THEM

⭑ authors note: i didn’t add any extras to this one because once again i am feeling lazy!! so i hope these are somewhat decent 😣💔

⭑ warnings: one mention of blood and knives, me using the word flabbergasted for fun, a singular mention of having dirty sweaty sex with stu (but no details because i’m a menace), this is kinda crappy because i rushed it but that’s about it

⭑ characters: michael myers and stu macher

MICHAEL MYERS

- michael definitely notices you scribbling away in a notebook whenever you’re around him but i feel like he would ignore it and only silently judge you for it because he’s too lazy to be nosy

- if you show him any of your drawings that aren’t of him he would probably just sit in silence and nod his approval (he’s obviously not the chattiest guy in the world yk?)

- i think that he would find out that you’re drawing him by going into your room while you’re sleeping (he’s a creep) and just finding some drawings of him laying around on your desk

- he would absolutely flip through your notebook when he finds out that you’ve been drawing him and he would be low key impressed by your drawings and maybe even a little smug under his mask

- of course since he’s looking through your whole notebook he will stop and be absolutely flabbergasted once he sees any inappropriate drawings of him (ignore my use of ‘flabbergasted’, my friend recently taught me it and i find it fun to use)

- he would probably just sit hunched over in silence for a while looking through those, he would definitely feel flattered in a strange way, like you think he looks like that?

- especially if your art of him is in a cool style or uses color in a unique way. i feel he would like if you did one black and white drawing of him where the only color you bring in is red for the blood that he’s constantly covered in

- he would especially be proud of the ones that show him during and after his kills, and would like the action shots the most. i’m sorry but if he sees a cool one of him slashing his knife during a kill he is definitely tearing that out and keeping it in his own little hiding spot (as an artist this hurt me, as a romantic this made me feel nice)

- if you try to talk to him about him taking some of the drawings he will just turn around and walk away in silence (he is embarrassed and doesn’t want to show it)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

STU MACHER

- he is a very nosey guy so as soon as he sees you with your nose tucked into your sketchbook he’s attempting to take it out of your hands to look in it. and once he gets it he’s hopping on a counter or desk to give him more height so he can hold it over your head and poke fun at you

- absolutely flips through it in front of you and just takes a seat to really enjoy any embarrassment you might be feeling. as soon as he finds any drawings of him he is going to tease the hell out of you with a wicked grin

- he’d probably say something like “wow babe! you’ve really captured my rugged good looks” and as soon as he finds any drawings of him as ghostface??? he will seriously be debating purposing to you (he’s whipped)

- will 100% brag to billy about how he has an ‘artist gf who draws amazing’ billy would probably get annoyed very easily by this and tell stu to shut up and he would just be like >:}

- don’t even get me started on him finding any sexual drawings you drew of him. his teasing will get a million times worse and he will pop an instant boner. oh my god and if there’s any sexual ones of him in his ghostface costume?? he would go absolutely feral.

- let’s all be honest right now, stu would just pin you to the nearest surface and have the sweatiest and most dirty sex ever with you, because he’s just that unhinged.

- after all this he’s probably asking you a silly question like if you can draw him doing a backflip because he thinks it’d be cool to see himself do that for some reason ??

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[rootsofdread]

another fic! this was commissioned by @yourfriendlyneighborhoodmeme, a long-time follower of my blog <3 if you'd like to commission me, i take [writing comms] and [art comms!]

pairing: yui kimura x reader x thalita lyra word count: 1,375 warnings: mild description of canon-typical violence, usage of they/them for reader summary: One night, after a trial, a discussion with your girls turns a bit serious.

You and Thalita walk towards the campfire, out of the dark, foggy forest and into the warm light. You beam when you notice Yui already sitting there, atop a log, waiting for both of you, pensively poking a stick into the little fire. Thalita calls for her attention, and she smiles and waves when she notices that it’s the two of you.

“Ah, come here, guys! I missed you two so much.” Yui ushers both of you over, and as soon as you two can, you both sit on the dirt near her and the warm fire. “You look like you took a beating. What happened out there tonight?” there was, of course, an undertone of concern; but mostly, Yui seemed proud of you. She always was.

“Nah—” you wave your hand, smiling sheepishly. “Nothing. Nothing that doesn’t happen all the time, anyways. Same old, same old.”

“They are so lying. You should’ve seen them out there!” Thalita playfully shoves your shoulder, grinning. “That killer had us both down, but unfortunately, went for them first. I was terrified, but they told me not to worry…” she nods her head towards you. “I didn’t see that they’d picked up a shard of glass. And neither did the killer. And when they picked them up, they stabbed it into their shoulder and got me back up and we took off!” she grabs your shoulders and rocks you around.

Yui stretches her arm out to tousle your head, the way a proud parent would. “Hell yes! See, I told you knowing that would come in handy.” she crinkles her nose, smiling all big. “I learned it from one of the other girls. I should teach you something else with the lockers.”

“Yui, you’ve always got good tips, but the lockers?” Thalita chuckles.

“No, seriously, it’s—”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think even this one could pull off a stunt like that with one of those.” Thalita nudges your arm with her elbow.

“Ah, Thali, let’s hear her out,” you bump Thalita’s shoulder with yours.

“Yeah! C’mon, I’ve got all the good tips, remember?” Yui stretches her foot over to Thalita and shakes it around.

“Wait a second! Wait a second—” Thalita snorts, swatting Yui’s sneaker away. “Be quiet for a second!” she waves her hand around a little, and looks around.

You and Yui both exchange a bewildered look before looking back at her, silently wondering what made her do that. She’s quiet, and turns her head back to face you two, eyes flickering between you, like a deer caught in headlights; almost like she’s expecting you two to catch onto whatever she heard or saw without an explanation from her.

You blink at her, and wait for the answer to come to you. You’re not sure it will, but she’s not saying anything. But that’s when you notice it — a subtle wave through her curly hair, and a coolness over your face. A breeze. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt a breeze. You had long thought anything purely natural didn’t exist here, and surely this wind was fabricated, too, but— it was nice. For once, for one shining moment, everything felt real again.

“A breeze…” Yui observes, seeming just as surprised as you are. “Wowww. Really makes me miss being on my bike,” she smiles. “With the wind in my hair, blazing down the streets. The city lights were so beautiful at night.”

“The windy beaches in Brazil,” Thalita adds, folding her arms atop the log and resting her cheek on them. “Ah, I’d give anything to run through the sand with a kite behind me again. The wind in my hair, and Renato laughing so much he topples over…”

You smile warmly. You don’t have anything to add, but hearing your girlfriends reminisce about the good old times really lifts your spirits.

“Maybe one day we can get back there.” Yui suggests, looking at you, then at Thalita. “I mean…there just…has to be some way out of this place, right? We could find it and get everyone out of here. We could all go home.”

Thalita completely lights up. “That would be nice. I want everyone to be able to go home.” her smile is so sweet.

Your heart drops almost as quickly as it had risen. Your stomach twists, both the topic making you feel awful, and the fact that you feel awful about it. It makes them so happy, the idea that everyone could get out of here, that they could be the ones to break the seal, or even that it could be done at all…but it makes you feel sick. You pull your knees up to your chest and scratch the back of your neck, silently hoping they change the subject quickly.

Yui notices the change in your body language. She tilts her head to look at you, and reaches out to grasp your shoulder. “Hey…you okay?” her eyebrows furrow. “You miss your family back home?” she gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

You put your hand over hers. “I actually…don’t have anyone back home.” you admit, raking your eyes over the black dirt. “So I don’t think there’d be a reason for me to leave this place, really. I just—” suddenly, it all spills out, you just can’t stop yourself; “I was all alone before I came here, and I finally found my people and my purpose here, and— and it would be like losing everything I’ve ever had, if I…if I left.”

The girls both look at each other, eyes widening. Neither of them seem entirely sure how to react to your confession— their expressions tell you that what you said was likely the very last thing they expected to come out of your mouth. But it was all the truth. And they knew that, of course.

Every organ in your body descends to the bottom. You totally killed the mood. Maybe you should’ve pretended you had family and friends and a job you loved and hobbies that made you happy back where you came from, so that they would still be happy. You shouldn’t have—

Without a word, Thalita springs forward and pulls you into a bear hug, leaning her head into the crook of your neck. As if on cue, Yui shuffles off the log and wraps her arms around your middle, pressing her cheek against the back of your neck. You knew they both loved you deeply, but these actions still caught you by surprise, somehow. In an instant, you felt overwhelmed by their shared love for you; like suddenly, everything was okay.

“I had no idea,” Yui says softly, nudging her temple against your spine.

“You should’ve said something sooner!” Thalita only half-scolds, notably non-threatening and all concern. “I would’ve invited Renato to hang out with us so much more often. He’s just as much your brother as he is mine.” she says, “he always wishes the three of us could go fly kites together on the beach. Every time he wonders if we’ll ever get to do that again, he asks, can I please take you with us?”

“My girls back home would love you. They’d all want to take you out for a ride the second they met you.” Yui sounds so happy remembering her girls. “But they’d have to wait their turn. Your first ride would have to be with me.”

You smile. Everything feels warm now.

“But, if we ever did get out of here, you know that we’d find you, right?” Yui moves her head to sit on your shoulder, opposite Thalita. “No matter where you were, or where we were, we’d find you.”

“And we’d bring everyone else with us! You’re important to everyone here. Especially us.” Thalita leans in to kiss your cheek. “You wouldn’t have to be alone long. And after that, never again! We’d make sure of it.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, they’re just making you so happy. “Thanks, girls. I love you.”

They both lean in to kiss your cheeks, muttering their own “I love you”s back and holding you tightly. You know exactly how loved you are now, here, in the fire-warmed corner of this dark and awful place.

[prisonhannibal]

Hi, I'd just like to say how it's just so incredibly cool to me that you're making indigenous ( specifically sámi ) art. Though just "cool" might be too small a word to describe it.

As someone who IS sámi but. Kind of doesn't feel like they are / has a whole lot of their own complicated feelings about it (didn't speak the language at home and that sort of stuff yk), it's always so special to me to see anything about it online. Always makes me want to get a hold of myself and actually connect with my culture, it's so so important to me and seeing your art makes me really happy :'))

And honestly? Seeing stuff about us online makes it feel like it's not too late for me, that I don't have to just put "finnish" in my bio anymore. ( Though I can't really start thinking it's too late if I'm still a minor now can I?)

Sorry if this got a little much, but I wanted to let you know how important your art can be, don't feel pressured to answer this, if you want to you can just leave it or delete it!! I'm a scared guy hiding behind anon anyways :'))

Hi ❤️💚💛💙 Don’t apologize it’s not too much and I’m glad you chose to reach out instead of dealing with it alone, that’s a step in the process of reconnecting ❤️ There is a specific loneliness in not having connections to your people. I don’t know your circumstances or if it’s a completely disconnected situation or if your family grew up calling themselves sámi but not participating in the culture, so some of this might not be relevant to you but I’ll answer as if you have very little connection just in case, so I can cover too much instead of too little. I’m sorry if this is all unnecessary and preachy and you didn’t ask but I have things I feel like saying.

The language thing doesn’t say anything about how sámi you are, I didn’t grow up speaking my heart language (that’s what my áhkku calls it and I think it’s beautiful) either, the majority of sámi people don’t speak any sámi language. You have to remember that the damage done to our communities is so severe that I literally feel like I’m in a privileged position for growing up with our culture and traditions in a proud sámi family and that I got to wear a gákti as a kid, even though our language was taken from our family before I was even born. A lot of people don’t even get that. It’s not our fault, whatever we lost during the norwegianization period (and similar policies and laws in the other “countries” in sápmi) was taken from us when they beat and forced it out of our great grandparent and grandparent generation.

It’s not too late for you, or for anyone. I know many people who got their first gákti late into adulthood. I’d celebrate someone reconnecting in their 60s. You are so so so young, you have so many years left of life where you can have this, if you choose to take it. You’re also lucky that you’re young bc there’s many youth organizations across the borders. I work on the board in one and we work on organizing social stuff and duodji courses and stuff like that to create meeting spaces for sámi youth! I was actually just in Helsinki to meet with some of the organizations on the finnish and swedish side and they seemed very nice :) I would recommend looking into what’s available in your area, and if you’re interested in learning languages or duodji I wish I could help find resources, but I don’t speak finnish, but I imagine if you contact your local community they’ll be able to help you with that.

Connection is healing 🌸 Both for yourself and for our people, because we are still here and we always will be. The only people who win when we are quiet is the people who did this to us. I want all of us back and together and with the sámi spirit that ČSV stands for. There is no obligation to do anything and you should never feel guilt for not being able to do things, but I like to think that if my family from the past who weren’t allowed to do the things I do now could see me they’d be happy. When I took sámi classes I thought that the people that came before us when boarding schools were a tool to get rid of our language would be so happy to see that we’re allowed to learn now. I hope that thought can give some comfort and strength no matter where you are or what you do in this process ❤️

After the 2023 protests I was really fucked in the head, so I went home to my áhkku and she cooked reindeer meat for me and taught me how to sew a gákti, and that felt like it healed something in me.

Anyway, this was a really nice ask to get. It means a lot to me to hear that my art is meaningful to other people. I wasn’t always sure there was an audience for it, but I always made it anyway because I think sámi art and happiness existing is a beautiful and important thing ☺️

I need to say again, you are so so young, there’s so much time and so much you can learn and do, and there’s no rush. I have heard many from the older generations say how proud they are and emotional that our youth is taking our traditions and our languages back, we’ll be happy to have you. I wish you all the best

[joanofexys]

Hi! Sorry for randomly dropping anon into ur inbox, but I’m kind of in love with ur oc’s and I was wondering if you could tell me more abt Ilya? Ik u said they’re just some guy from Penn state and for some reason that really intrigues me lol.

Never apologize I love anons and I'm so flattered you like my little guys. Also sorry this is gonna take a minute and there will be many typos cause I'm typing one handed on my laptop while eating an icecream/my cat tries to steal my icecream bar, not that you needed that info

ANYWAY litte recap on Ilya:

22 years old

5'5

he/they, transman

youngest of 4, has all sisters

Played for Penn State

Now plays for Olympic Court

Goalie

Number 7

I haven't decided on what he majored in yet

Yeah he really is just some guy. He's the only athlete really in his family. One of his older sisters ran track in high school, but otherwise their family is full of musician. Dad is a middle school orchestra teacher, mom is a music professor, his sisters all went into the arts. He can play a, quite frankly, ridiculous amount of instruments and he enjoys them all but he's not particularly passionate about it.

His parents signed him up for little league exy because he saw exy on the tv once and wouldn't shut up about it/was begging them to play. His parents just wanted all of their kids to be happy so they caved very quickly and Ilya developed an intense passion for the sport that obviously never went away.

Ilya's oldest sister (Liliya) is 7 years older than him, the other one 4 years older (Kateryna or just Kat), and the sister after (Tanya) that only a year and a half older. They're all incredibly close despite any age gaps while also very much having a dynamic of lovingly bullying each other

Ilya kind of always knew he was trans and they were always in a safe space to express it. His parents used to joke that they had "3 girls and an Ilya" and they didn't even bat an eye when as a kid he went straight for the "boys clothes" and asked to be called a prince instead of a princess and only responded to being called a boy. At school it was different, in elementary school other kids didn't care but the teachers could be weird about it, and then as a teen other kids started getting mean about it. But his parents and their sisters were always accepting and they filled their house with enough love that Ilya never thought about being closeted or pretending to be someone he wasn't.

He gets recruited to Penn State's team as their starting goalkeeper as an openly trans athlete. His team's respectful for the most part. There are some people who just don't seem to get it, but they're never outright rude or transphobic to him. There are sometimes snide remarks and something Not Cool said on accident and Ilya is always quick to correct it and most of his teammates are decent enough to apologize and try to do better

And he talks A Lot about being a trans and generally queer athlete. He's happy to be one of those people out and proud for everyone who can't be. Ilya has always, unapologetically, taken up space. Not even focused on his queerness, just in the way he exists as a person. If he's in a room you're going to know he's there and you're probably going to know their every thought as well.

They care a lot and they take everything to heart. They're very much a "don't cry cause you'll make me cry" type of person. He's much more willing to take on people's pain and share their burdens than he probably should be.

And he has zero filter. While he's absolutely paving the way as a queer athlete and he has a lot to say to the press about that his press time also has to be limited because he will just say shit. He has insulted other teams, insulted specific players, shared information that he definitely shouldn't have, said "fuck" on camera too often to keep count, and a lot more. He is keeping the Penn State vs Edgar Allan Ravens twitter discourse alive and well with all the shit that comes out of his mouth

He makes his best friend his junior year. She's a sophomore named Alice and she's a defensive dealer. Her sophomore year she comes as trans, MTF, and Ilya is the first person she tells becuase he's one of the only queer people she knows. After that they're pretty much attached at the hip and Ilya would kill and die for her. Her family isn't super accepting so he takes her home with him for the holidays. His family becomes hers and they're more than happy to add one more girl to the family.

Ilya makes court right after he graduates and it's with Jude, Em, Mara, Florian. you know the drill at this point. They're the ones I never shut up about. And I think I'll largely be repeating myself and I don't want to be annoying with that so we'll stop there

Some other fun things about Ilya though:

he never learned how to ride a bike. he will never ride a bike. fuck no (he fell over and scraped his knee once and despite all the balls to the head playing exy that was his breaking point for some reason and he never got on a bike again)

he's a cat person

he teaches Florian ASL and it's the main they talk to each other cause Florian likes to go nonverbal

they were such a huge fan of Jude it took everything in them to not be starstruck when the two first met

the two instruments they stuck with were the violin and the piano

they have an addiction to strawberries

is almost always playing jazz music on a vinyl when they're home/have people over

he has a shitty autograph and Flor has begged him to "get better handwriting" since he signs so much stuff but he's fine with it being an unreadable disaster (Florian's autograph in comparison is gorgeous)

he is an unapologetic foxes stan after they win finals

[obsidianpen]

I ADORE YOU

Weres my vape boo?

Saying spend too much time who?

You’re best mom, whoo!

Um u don’t have to post this but I just wanted to say I grew up with a stay at home mom and it was the greatest thing in the world. My mom had four kids in 6 years and somehow found time to watch the sopranos full series. And I wish she had more time! Like she was the hardest working most beautiful women ever and all I wish now that I’m an adult is that she had more fun because I got enough of her. Not that I’m upset I had sm time with her bc she was the bestest part of my childhood but every mom deserves time for themselves. I love my dad and he worked so hard to supply the family with money. But my mom worked tiredlessly to make sure that money was enough for medical care, food, home needs, school, etc. She made sure every dime was well spent while when she asked by dad to go get food he’d pick up 6 Pringle cans and a bag of onions. She is an extremely talented women who during her middle 40s stopped realizing that (she was also in the art field). Idk that one commenter really made me be like wtf (no hate i think they meant well) Because pls pls pls never loose ur love for writing. Not even for my own benefit, but bc I love woman who are dedicated to their interests. Because moms are the hardest working most important individuals (you are literally creating and then raising the next generation) and because moms deserve to have a life outside of their kids and husbands. I think moms are the most important people in society and I’m proud of anyone who can just call themselves a mom.

Sorry for the rants, you don’t need to respond I just wanted to say I love my mommy despite all her faults. Girl idk your faults but u seem like a good person which makes you a good mom and kids r so resilient. I don’t remember anything other than the fact that my mom tried. And that’s what’s most important. If moms loose sight of their interests (which happened to my mom), when their kids are older, they won’t know what to do with themselves. Normalize women not becoming an extension of their husband (not that I would ever suggest this happened to you but I just think it happens too often) Again sorry for the rant, I just hate the way society views women as baby carriers and nothing else. WOMAN DESERVE HOBBIES! So never ever ever feel bad about taking time to write. My sibilings and I always encourage our mom to draw and express herself and wished she did it more.

well this was an interesting rant/post!

To be clear, and i know you weren’t saying this was true of me, but it should be said - I have never once viewed myself as an extension of my husband, so no worries there, lol. As for being a stay at home mom… I did go back to work nearly full time for a bit, and it was rough. We moved across the country so he could take a job so I could be home with Bebe. It was a choice we both agreed on. I personally love being home with him. This is a season of life; I’m basking in it.

I’ve never felt guilty for taking time to write. Granted, i do it almost exclusively when he’s asleep, but still.

I think some reframing can be helpful. I don’t view myself as an extension of anyone, but at this stage in his life, I sort of view my Bebe as an extension of me, if anything. He’s still so young that he needs me 24/7 (even when he playing independently, can’t take your eyes off these guys for a mo). And that’s fine. Bebes are only bebes once. I don’t know any parent who’s ever looked back and said, gosh I wish I would have spent less time being present with my kiddos when they were young!

I’m also not someone who would ever have to worry about ‘what to do with myself’ when my kid gets older. I have plenty of ‘hobbies’ and look forward to being able to pick things like glass up again. However. I would wager that any mom/parent etc that finds themself at a loss for what to do with their time later in life got that way because hobbies were a luxury they could not afford to have while doing all the child rearing and domestic labor and perhaps also working a job job. Yes, women - and everyone - deserve to have hobbies. But no one needs to be guilted for not being able to maintain them in a society as demanding as ours when you are simply trying to be a good parent and make ends meet. You say you ‘encouraged (I assume this was meant to be past tense, as in during your childhood as well) her to draw more.’ I might be making some unfair assumptions here, but maybe she could have if someone else was helping her? Encouragement does not do the dishes, clean the house, do the laundry, make the meals, get the groceries, take the kids from here to there, run the errands, blah, blah, blah, blah. I’m sorry but I really disliked the way that was worded! It implied that if was your moms fault for not keeping up with drawing, despite being ‘encouraged.’ I bet she wishes she could have done it more too, but I also bet that when she had to make the choice between ‘get shit done’ or ‘quality time with kids’ or ‘draw’, she chose option one or two most of the time.

as for me, I love drawing too, and I can’t WAIT until my kid can draw. Some of my fondest memories with my dad were when we had ‘drawing contests’ and would sit and draw the same thing together, sometimes for hours (strangely, I always ‘won’). My dad was no artist mind, but it was fun, and it’s where I started to learn to really look at things. I’m super excited to be able to teach my kid how to draw when he’s young. This Bebe is going to know how to cross hatch and shade with charcoal before kindergarten haha!

So I guess I’ve just responded to your rant with some ranting of my own! Sorry if I’m super off base with any of my comments. I think we should normalize letting moms - and all parents - make the choices they want to make that’s best for them and their family.