#still wished there was a better group pic of all of them instead of that outdated one

[scarefox]

shameless selfpromo again... nah I don't get anything from this but just want to share it cause it's a neat playlist if I might say so myself

[kurosaaki]

would you be able to do hcs of ellie partying with her s/o? i saw your post about something like that and it got me thinking about it hehe

hope you’re doing well 💞

PARTYING WITH ELLIE HEADCANONS

WARNINGS: weed & alcohol mentions, mentions of sex too. not proofread so apologies if there’s a mistake :)

TAGGING: @hazelnutsforellie @icedcold @prrimordiais @elliesstar @anchoeritic @elliephobic @apricxtt

A/N: i want to go party with ellie. rb’s & support is appreciated!

*set in a modern!au*

it’s not a secret that ellie prefers to have a quiet, chill movie night with you instead of going outside. she loves to be at home with you, but let’s get this clear: she only likes to go outside and have a fun night just because she’s going with you.

i get the vibes that she’d love to go partying once in a while, simply just to have fun with her friends and get a little drunk and high with you.

let’s talk about one of the best moments of the night: the pre party. that moment where you and ellie put on your favorite playlist on your speakers, the loud music filling the room just to get in the mood while she dresses up and you try to find the best outfit for the occasion.

if you’re having problems, she’ll gladly help you choose the outfit.

“does this look good, els?” you ask for the 3rd time, your girlfriend on the edge of the bed watching you walk around the room.

“honestly,” she says, walking towards you, trying to hide that cheeky smile while she puts her hands on the zipper of the dress you’re trying on. “this looks fucking hot on you babe”

“ellie” you say, earning a “hm?” from her, “up. you have to zip it up, not down”

(she knew that)

even if you choose to dress up more comfy, she’ll ask you to match outfits. if she’s wearing all black, you better wear something black too. if her shirt is white, yor better have something white on. she loves to match outfits with you, please let her ;-;

she loves it when you help her do her hair. she lets you choose too. want a bun? she’s alright with that. you feel like she would look hot with her hair down? she approves it.

she’d smell amazing too. just saying.

ellie also likes to smoke a blunt before actually going out, just to “warm up” a little bit. she always does it while you’re still dressing up, and she finds it relaxing and arousing to watch you dance around the room while trying on your clothes, putting some make-up on if you’re feeling it, or even taking some pics.

talking about taking pics: going out with ellie means having to take pics with her. that is a MUST. and i’m talking pics in the mirror of your room, on the bathroom getting ready, walking to the party, AND on the party.

some of those pics (especially the “in the party” ones) actually make you laugh and feel kinda embarrassed the day after when you look at them.

you know that part on the hangover movie where they take the digital camera and look at the pics they took the night before? YEAH. I’M TALKING ABOUT THAT.

“BABE YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS” ellie shouts from the other side of the living room, making you run towards your girlfriend, who had her phone in her hand

“let me see!”

she lets you grab her phone and you see the photo she’s talking about. it’s a photo where you and ellie look WASTED on the dance floor, ellie with a cowboy hat grabbing your hips from behind smiling and you biting your lip with a smile too, and with two drinks in hand. you didn’t notice dina was behind you both pointing at jesse, who (for some reason you wish you remember) was laying on the floor wearing dina’s sunglasses.

“this will not be on the photo dump i was planning to post” you returned the phone to ellie, who was laughing out loud.

“if you don’t post it, i will” she kept laughing at more of the photos taken last night, “this is so funny”

for some reason, you and ellie are always late.

a quickie before going out never hurt nobody, right?

when you finally meet up with your group of friends, you start to drink a bit and let the alcohol flow through your system. by the time you arrive at the party, you’re already tipsy.

ellie has a moderate tolerance to alcohol. she won’t get drunk if you give her two drinks, but she will definetely be tipsy if you give her three or four. and it’s SO funny to see her stumbling over her own words, laughing at everything, and being extra affectionate in public.

we all know ellie is the coolest girl ever. so, what makes us think she wouldn’t be the life of the party? everyone knows ellie there. everyone wants to party with her at least once. everybody wants to say “i partied with ellie williams and it was awesome” but only a few people can say that. that includes you, jesse and dina.

ellie likes to dance with you. she likes to tease you a lot while she’s at it, too. grabbing your hips, pulling you closer to her, leaving a sneaky kiss on your cheek…all while she’s guiding your movements with hers.

alcohol gets her horny sometimes too. so, you know what that means: bathroom. immediatly.

SCARY!GF!PRIVILEGE!

if there’s someone who dares to look at your direction the wrong way, they’re in big trouble.

if looks could kill, ellie would have buried that person before they looked at you twice.

with ellie by your side, there’s hardly anyone who dares to go and ask for your number or try to flirt with you. but if that happens, she’ll grab your chin and she’ll give you the hottest kiss ever. after that, she’ll just wink at you and grab your hand while looking at the poor person who tried to get your number.

“sorry dude, she’s taken” she’ll simply say before guiding you to another place where they can’t find you anymore.

she pays for your drinks!

if you feel like you need a break, she’ll always be there to guide you outside and take some fresh air once in a while. that’s also a moment where you realize how drunk you are. and how hot your girlfriend is. and how your feet hurt from dancing.

by the end of the night, ellie always makes sure to search for your friends at the party to go home together.

if you feel too tired to walk, she’d give you a piggyback ride <3

and if the party was held way too far from your house, she’d call a friend of hers to drive you both there.

fun fact: she called joel one night to drive you both home. it’s safe to say that he never volunteered to do that again. though it was funny for him to see you and ellie drunk.

once you’re finally at home (and if she’s not too tired to do it) she’ll help you take your make-up off and put your pajamas on before hitting the bed.

post party sleep is the best sleep ever. but the headache from the day after is not.

but it’s definetely worth it, because partying with ellie is just amazing and the hangover doesn’t matter when you both try to remember what happened last night.

[the-videodame]

oh BOY anon ur in for a treat cause i just recently finished writing her backstory (tho its always subject to change lmao) and i've been meaning to make a tl;dr bullet list of notes for it too SO...

also, sorry this took so long, i kept getting distracted and was also just never in the right headspace to write lmao BUT here we are!

and just fyi, im not at all an expert on DnD or Forgotten Realms lore, everything i know is from BG3 and whatever wiki deep dives i go on

---

Yv'ette is my Baldur's Gate 3 MC/Tav! Although at this point, shes kinda becoming her own DnD character herself with all the other BG3-inspired ocs I have, and I've basically made up my own group of 'companions' alongside her for their own quest(s)

Here's a sheet with all her basics and such as an overview before I lay on an insane wall of text and pics for the rest of it:

And now, her backstory, in paragraph form:

~~ Valmeia Dyrr made a pact with her devil patron one day, while still in the first trimester of her pregnancy, that stated: in return for the power he can give to her, she is to choose one of her twin children’s souls to give to him.Pleading with the fiend to take some sort of mercy on her, on the twins, the devil Hyde gives her only one grace: “If you fret over which to choose, know this: one shall be a sinner, the other a saint,” he informs her. “You have until their 25th birthday to decide which you will choose. Fear not, for I will not take their soul right away. But slowly. Each time you draw upon my power after their 25th year, the infernal influence I have over them will creep ever further on their soul. Soon, I will have full control over them.” It was a steep price, but to wield incredible spells to aid her cause, and to be resurrected should she die from unnatural causes? It was a price worth paying. ~~

Yv’ette Dyrr, Captain of the Stormbringer

Born as half tiefling, half drow, Yv’ette grew up as an outcast to her peers - dusky purple skin, blackened sclera with flaming purple irises, and a furry tail tip instead of the typical half-arrowhead. Unlike her twin, who had a fairly normal shade of black hair, Yv’ette inherited her fathers stark white hair, which is an unusual trait for tieflings in Faerun. This made her a target for bullying by other kids, and even other tieflings, as they would tell her how ‘weird’ and ‘creepy’ or ‘evil’ her mix of traits made her. While the comments from those kids would sting, there were plenty of other kids that would befriend her, many of which were also victims of the same bullies. 

There was one kid in particular, a tiefling boy who lived at the local orphanage in the nearby town, that Yv’ette had wished to befriend sooner. Although he carried the common traits of a tiefling, he was abused the most by local kids, likely due to his meek and generally uncaring attitude towards it all. One day, at age 15, after running around town with Vekyll, Yv’ette would notice this same boy talking to a group of known troublemakers as she was called home by Valmeia. There was this feeling in her gut, almost like an instinct to go and defend this boy from whatever those kids were going to do, and it only grew worse as she watched them lead the boy away towards the river near town. However, the demands of her mother to hurry home eventually won over her, and Yv’ette headed the opposite way. 

That next morning, the body of the tiefling boy would be found in that very river, caught against a bridge's support beams. Throughout her life, Yv’ette would constantly regret not following her gut feeling and telling those kids to leave him alone. While his name faded from her memory over time, that very situation didn’t, and she often finds herself begging that tiefling boy for forgiveness during her lowest moments. She only hopes his soul is being treated better in the afterlife than it was on the material plane.

At age 17, while her twin brother was busy with knight training, Yv’ette decided to attempt to pursue her dream of becoming an actress. She auditioned for small community plays, performed skits with other kids for spare change, and eventually managed to land a permanent spot within a traveling theatre troupe by age 18. However, she was told that if she wanted lead protagonist or love interest roles, she would have to magically disguise herself as a human. “To fit the type casting,” the director would tell her each time. “Your acting skills are immaculate, but the role calls for a human or elf, I’m afraid.” The thing is, if she was ever cast as the antagonist or some other ‘evil’ role, she was never given the directions to disguise herself. For about a year or so, Yv’ette held her tongue about this fact - the pay was decent, her fellow actors were friendly with her, and this was her dream, after all. She only needed to keep this job until she felt like she had enough experience under her belt to join higher-ranking theatre troupes, as well as train her singing voice better so that she could expand her talent range into musicals and operas (spoiler: her singing voice remains terrible and she's very insecure about it).

One performance haunts her particularly, one that she has nightmares of constantly. The theatre troupe decided to put on a charity show for an orphanage, a play that wasn’t too intense for children, but still held a solid story and was engaging enough for all ages. It featured a hero, played by a dashing wood elf with his rag-tag team - and the villain, a greedy pirate captain played by Yv’ette, with her crew of bloodthirsty misfits. While she had the opportunity to take the love interest’s role, it required her to be able to sing, thus she gladly passed the role off to another. The moment she received the script, she knew it would not end well. The performance itself went just fine, up until the climactic battle between the hero and Yv’ette, both poised with their swords at the other, when suddenly the audience of children began to yell and cheer … but not for both actors on stage. 

“Get her! Kill the pirate!” was the first of many outbursts to come, and it wasn’t so bad. Children have called out during performances before, and it was pretty typical for them to root for the hero rather than the villain. “Kill the tiefling!” was what made her freeze, and the other actor too, the two staring at each other with their swords crossed as they listened to the hateful calls. Cries of “Foul-blood!” and “Kill her, before she takes your soul!” were a few of the jeers that she could make out before the orphanage’s caretakers decided to step in and quiet the children, likely realizing the horrid things they were saying. 

That was the point that she decided to demand the director, the troupe leader, to let her perform as her true self for ALL her roles. In response, the director decided to give her a choice: either she could willingly let him use her body as he pleased in return for better roles - or she gets kicked from the troupe. Without pause, Yv’ette tore her contract in two and stormed out of the directors office, immediately packing up her things and saying goodbye to her fellow actors. When asked why she was leaving, she simply stated something had come up back home, and she needed to return to her family. She didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth.

With her brother preparing to move to Elturel for higher training as a knight, and the possibility to become a Hellrider, Yv’ette refused to move back home in fear of disappointing her parents and becoming a burden when she should be a successful adult at that point. Instead, she used what money she had left from her actress pay to go from inn to inn in various towns and cities, trying to find a solid paying job that either didn’t under pay her - or blatantly told her they didn’t hire foul-bloods. On her last leg, Yv’ette meets a elven woman named Tilly one night at a tavern, and after drunkenly telling the bubbly woman about her situation, Tilly tells her a bit of info that will eventually change her life: Tilly’s uncle had left her a merchant ship to her in his will. She had no plans on using it and was debating on just selling it, but Yv’ette could have it, so long as Tilly was allowed to come with her on her travels.

“We could go treasure hunting or do some mercenary jobs and make money that way!” Tilly had said, excited as ever. “We could find more people down on their luck, and make a crew for ourselves!”

And that’s exactly what they did. Gathering folks from various parts of Faerun, and even further out on Toril, Yv’ette managed to become the captain of her own crew by the age of 22. Drow, dragonborn, harpies, half-orcs, githyanki, kobalds - she has at least one crewmate of every outcast race out there. She wouldn’t really call them pirates, but sometimes it was just easier - plus it intimidated people more.

The night before her 25th birthday, Yv’ette had the most vivid dream she’s ever experienced. In that dream, she stood nude in the middle of a body of water - an ocean? A lake? River? She wasn’t sure, as it was dark and foggy, barely enough moonlight shining through the dark storm clouds above her. In the waking world, it was less than a minute to midnight, and the ocean waves felt restless as they began to crash against the ship. In her dream, Yv’ette felt the urge to raise her hand towards the ever-darkening sky. Despite being soaked from the water she stood in, and though the air felt chill even within her own mind, she reached her left arm upwards to extend her fingers towards the electrically charged clouds. 

The clock strikes midnight, and in a flash - quite literally - lightning erupts from the clouds above her to strike her index finger. A burning pain shoots up through her arm and to her chest, even reaching up to her eye, as she bolts awake in her bed. Clutching her arm and squeezing her eyes shut from the phantom pains, Yv’ette lets the now-calm waves rock her back to sleep once the pain resided. 

In the morning, her crew would ask her why her left eye was a different color. She would have no answer.

In a tenday, her crew would ask her why there were black markings beginning to form around that eye and at the tips of her fingers. She would have no answer.

In a month, she would ask herself why she couldn’t use magic anymore - why could she not call upon the Weave? Her, the successor to a long line of storm sorcerers? She would have no answer. 

In fact, no one would have an answer. Not only could she not feel the Weave, the Weave couldn’t affect her, either. No wizard, sorcerer, cleric, warlock, or druid would be able to identify the cause of her issue. The only answer anyone could think of was: a curse. A powerful one, too. Whoever cursed her made it so that magic was ineffective on her, and vice versa, likely to ensure that no one could figure out how to cure it. So Yv’ette decided to leave it be, though eventually the growing markings were becoming a concern, and so was not being able to heal or be healed by anything other than potions. 

Thus, her crew had a new mission: find a way to break her curse. Or at least, find someone who knows how to.

It's a shame that a rogue nautiloid happened to snatch her off her own ship before they could.

---

And here's a TL;DR bullet point list of notes on her:

As a kid, loved to run around the city with her brother Vekyll with other kids, namely ones who didn’t have a home or were bullied

With white hair being very rare on tieflings, Yv’ette was often verbally bullied and made fun of by other kids, even other tieflings

Growing up, she loved to participate in theatrical showcases whenever the opportunity arises, and eventually joined a traveling theatre troupe when she was old enough

Unfortunately, her childhood bullying didn’t end there, it seemed. Though she was talented, she was told she didn’t “look the part” of many of the protagonist or love interest roles, and was required to cast disguise spells on herself during performances to that of a human or elf

The only time she wasn’t required to disguise herself was when she played the role of a villain, or other antagonistic/evil caricatures 

Eventually it whittled down her self-esteem and image of herself as both a tiefling and drow - not fitting to typical tiefling beauty standards, and not being “drow enough” to be welcomed by most drow either ---

While growing up, she was fascinated by paintings of women draped in fabrics, joined by equally beautiful men or women, all painted with such a divine elegance 

The thing is, all those paintings were usually of humans or elves or assimar, perhaps the occasional satyr. If she were lucky, there might have been a drow, although those paintings would have more haunting tones, but were still beautiful

However, none of those paintings featured a tiefling in the role of the divine maiden or the handsome knight. They were always the devious villain with ill-intents, depicted trying to tempt or harm others in the scene

As a result, she's incredibly insecure about her appearance and how others perceive her visually ---

Both her parents are worshipers of Eilistraee, and thus she grew up as a worshiper as well. However, over the years she began to loose faith in almost every 'god' out there, since none have protected her from the traumas and misfortune, and figured they favored her brother more, just like their mother did

Time to time she'll pray to a god specific to a situation, such as Umberlee and Talos during her pirate days

During her journey to Baldur's Gate, once she reads the texts of Illmater within the Open Hand Church, she begins to feel something toward his teachings, especially after having to deal with her companions' burdens

I do plan on her eventually coming back around to worship Eilistraee again, maybe once she's cured of her curse, or something of the like ---

For romance, I legitimately can't choose between Gale or Zevlor, so i said - fuck it! Throuple. I feel as though Gale and Zev would really understand each other, what its like to be 'abandoned' or 'betrayed' by the god you devoted yourself to

Yes I know Gale is very monogamous, and I respect that. I, however, think he deserves TWO loving partners who dote on him wholeheartedly

The ship name for her and Gale is "Shockweave" and for all three of them its "Hell Raisers"

In a more non-canonical storyline/AU for her (despite her already being not canon, but y'know), she ends up siding with Raphael and eventually falling for him, fully knowing he can't 'love' back (but i beg to differ, imo, but i wont get into that here lmao)

In the timeline where she sides with Raph, I'm leaning toward her becoming a devil herself as a method of defeating Hyde and ridding herself of her curse / her mothers' contract

---

Some misc things about her:

Before her magic was suppressed by Hyde, she was exceptional at Lightning magic - thus I gave her a lightning motif/theme. Her brother has a Thunder motif, together making them the "Storm Siblings"!

Proficient with finesse weapons (namely a rapier) and also flintlock pistols! Also crossbows, namely hand crossbows

Her rapier is enchanted to absorb lightning, both natural and magical, and fling it back at her opponents in either a strong single line, or a swooping range attack, depending on how she swings the rapier. She calls it The Lightning Rod, and her pistol is Shockwave

Tried to sing once as a kid, since Eilistraee's teachings encourage it, but embarrassed herself pretty badly and refused to sing again afterward, especially after her brother did much better than her. Even though she might be better now as an adult, she still refuses to sing around anyone, and rarely ever sings even when shes alone. She still loves to dance, though. I can also see her taking up piano or flute as a hobby

If it weren't for laws, she'd be fine with going topless often

She and her brother have fluffy tail tips! Though, shes a bit insecure about it, as in the past kids would make fun of it and call it a 'cows tail'

Wears a sharp, slightly curved blade at the end of her tail to aid her both in battle, and to hold onto the ship posts when she uses her tail to keep balance when climbing/walking them (and to also hide her tail tip)

Enchanted compass tattoo on her right arm, which unfortunately stops working when her curse begins

Full-spine tattoo of a sea serpent that wraps a but around the base of her tail, to commemorate her crews first victory over one

In the AU where she becomes a devil, I like to think her 'ascended' form is sea-serpent-like, and her hair morphs into a storm cloud

Alcoholic; she lessens up on it during the events of BG3, but dives right back into it after finding out about her mothers contract

---

of course she's still being work shopped and such, i mean fuck just between writing this up i changed a bunch of things about her from beforehand LMAO

id love to know your (or anyones) opinons and by all means PLEASE ask me more about her or my other DnD/BG3 ocs

[kureocatto]

I guess they escaped my gallery after all, so here are my humanized Wubbox designs! (but at this point I treat them more like OCs)

Click the pic for better quality btw!

I'm not sure if anyone would want to read, but there's an entire rabbit hole of lore on my personal AU and other stuff below the cut :,D

First things first, separate fullbodies for each of them.

And now.. personal headcanons and more info-

General

These guys are part of my personal MSM AU called "Illuminated Lands"! It's.. a lot to explain but everyone is humanized and living in a mostly fantasy-themed continent rather secluded from the human world. I've done a lot of worldbuilding and character writing but besides "The Celestials suddenly went missing and a terrible illness is spreading around the lands" I haven't really gotten a clear cut idea on how the story would go 😭

Volt (Common Wubbox)

It's not very apparent at first, but Volt's a robot created by Galvana. He was tasked with a very special purpose from the beginning of his creation, to find and save the Celestials should anything bad ever happen to them (to which, it did). While he is kind and tenacious normally, Volt is deathly afraid of disappointing people that he cares for. He got attached to his friends pretty quickly. However, he struggles to find a sense of identity and a reason to live beyond his original purpose.

C.D / Compact Disk (Rare Wubbox)

C.D is a runaway child of the Electric Celestial herself, and supposedly Volt's "older brother". He was actually the one who was supposed to be given a certain important task, but that responsibility fell on Volt instead because C.D ran away fron home. Galvana thought it would be cruel to drag the child back if it was against his wishes, so decided on an alternative. C.D is rebellious and doesn't like being restricted by rules. He's also very flamboyant and carefree, even coming off as arrogant to many. But the truth is that he simply has his own ways of doing things, unconventional as they may be. C.D actually cares a lot for Volt and is always looking out for him in secret. Perhaps, this is his way of compensating for his past actions.

Twig (Plant Epic Wubbox)

Coming from a rather prestigious family of Deerfolks, Twig was always expected to go big. His parents always wanted him to go down a healer's path early on. Twig quickly became a prodigy when he mastered several types of medical subjects quite quickly. His mentor was actually Blassoom, though under a disguise as a regular resident of the lands. Being her star pupil, Twig was one of the few let in on the secret. When he graduated and officially became a doctor, life got busy. But seeing all sorts of patients from across the lands, it made Twig think about how there's so much more to see beyond his home. After an encouragement from Blassoom herself, he decided it would be good to become a traveling doctor. He'd still be able to help people, but he could also live his dream to see the world. Sometime during his travels, he became acquianted with Volt and the rest of the friend group.

Haze (Cold Epic Wubbox)

While the Water Region of the lands are primarily populated by humans, it's not common to find them anywhere else. Haze is one of those rare occurences, coming from the Cold Region. Her past is a big mystery, even to herself. All she knows is that Glaishur found her as a child and took her in. Another thing about her is that she's abnormally resistant to the cold, and she's capable of magic unlike other humans living in the Illuminated Lands. To outsiders, Haze is truly an enigma. But to her friends, she's the quiet yet caring and protective one among them.

Jet (Air Epic Wubbox)

A genius avian engineer that comes from the Air Region. Rumors about her say that she was terribly ill as a child. But because of a miracle from the stars, she's recovered and went on to do great things. The truth is.. more complicated, but Jet won't deny the part about miracles from the stars. After all, her father and her mentor were the Air and Mech Celestials in disguise. She is forever grateful for their support and care, and Vhamp's influence was the reason why she wanted to work with machinery in the first place. Anyways, Jet is rather introverted and doesn't like leaving her workshop. But she is actually casual and witty outside her work (to which she takes extremely seriously). She developed a deep sibling bond with Volt after they met by chance.

Ripple (Water Epic Wubbox)

The Water Region is split into two parts, the land and the sea. The former is mostly populated by humans. Meanwhile, the latter is a host to many wondrous creatures and species. Ripple is a seafolk of unknown origins. He'd been alone for as far as he can remember. When he was younger, he met with a young Anglow named Lily and became so close they were inseparable. He really didn't have anyone besides her, so to say it broke him when she and her species departed from this world and returned to theirs was an understatement. Ripple was then given to Hornacle for care, for he was a friend to all land-dwellers and seafolks alike. The grief still hurt, but it slowly heals itself over time. Life was alright from then on, or atleast.. until the day the stars dimmed and the Celestials disappeared all at once. Ripple now believes he is cursed, eventually becoming afraid to make friends or form bonds. However, when he found Volt and the others who said they might have a chance to find the Celestials again.. what has he got to lose by sticking around and clinging to that slim chance?

Rust (Earth Epic Wubbox)

Rust is a half-human half-dragon. When he was young, he lost both his parents and had to leave the Illuminated Lands to live with his aunt. However, she was heavily controlling of him and constantly forbids him to show his draconic side. Rust didn't complain as he was taught to respect and appreciate his family. He tried his best to do so.. until his aunt tried cutting off his horns entirely. He wasn't going to stand there and let her strip away a part of himself, so he finally fought back and escaped. His left horn was broken off, and he was bleeding all the way back to the Illuminated Lands. But luck smiled upon him as Scaratar had found the little boy passed out in a clearing. He lived happier with her ever since. Despite his rocky childhood, Rust grew up to be a supportive and caring person. He's always around to help anyone he can, both with his compassion and strength.

And so.. thats it! It was a bit nerve-wrecking to post this.. but I like talking about my stories, so who cares anymore! Expect random content of this AU from time to time as I develop the story more. And for those who's read this far down? You have my heart <3

[causesciencethatswhy]

ok honestly, how does this not sound like a jimin anti?

it’s funny that people’s first assumption is that jungkook lied to jimin just like how it was assumed he told jimin he was busy and not to go see him when jimin was the one who went to an event on jungkook’s birthday then went live.

all these times he could’ve gone to see jungkook if he was indeed doing nothing. but you are all just dying to have something to hate jk over.

and tbh this kind of annoys me about jikook and have for years, like they always downplay their (assumed) friendship. if you're best friends why not act like it? like honestly. makes it hard to defend their friendship when they themselves downplay it.

and idc about any sort of ~privacy argument, who the fuck is private about a friendship with their own member

also makes no sense for jimin to post that picture on instagram which was posted for FANS not for jungkook then for him to come on live and imply he hasn't seen jungkook because he's busy (when jungkook now said he wasn't).

he posted a pic to show they're close but then comes on live to imply the opposite? ok.

in the past they’d do or say something that would make it obvious how close they are (at least good friends) but not so much these days. i’m just tired of the weirdness.

i always said (to myself) if they were acting as proper best friends at least it would be easier for me to not be delusional. but are we really expected to believe that jimin would fly to the us for jk’s debut when he didn’t have to but he can’t make it on his bday when jk is doing nothing?

like he could’ve said he’ll go see him soon or something if he felt fans would call him out on them not meeting on jk’s bday for the first time since they’ve known each other?

why would he come on live repeating that it’s jk bday and fans should wish him a happy bday when he himself wouldn’t go see him when that makes no sense? it’s just annoying.

them pretending the us trip never happened when it’s right in front of us and everyone knows about it, them also pretending jk never did the bg vocals on letter like why?

did jimin not give jk a copy of face or is he keeping it somewhere else for some unknown reason?

jimin refusing to do a live for who knows what reason but now he wants to copy the kind of lives jk has been doing. none of this weirdness ever happens with any of the members.

and I knew for a fact when jimin showed his flat all the tkkers will try to push dating rumours. so if he wants to do more lives we have that to look forward to even more. yay🙄

Look anon, Mimi had addressed all of this when they had written these posts already with explanations of what they intended. As they've said before their frustration was geared towards the expected reaction to jkks words from the fandom (which was always to downplay their relationship) which seeped into their interpretation of jkk. Yeah, it could have been worded better but it was written in a heated moment, something they're already aware of.

Whether we like to admit it or not, staying hyper aware of fandom discourse can colour how we interact with the members and their words and the anticipation of the discourse that'll steep out of it can sometimes makes us almost hold it against the member themselves than the group of rabid fans hellbent on twisting their words. I still remember when I was at a point where I got frustrated with Tae a while back because the expected discourse from his words bothered me more than the actual words he was saying. It's where we have to catch ourselves when dealing with something like parasocial relationships where boundaries between fan reaction and interaction are so murky.

As someone who has talked to mimi about everyone jkk I can say confidently say they're the farthest thing from a j/m anti and love him very thoroughly. If you think otherwise you're free to block them and myself, instead of exposing yourself to content which you know makes you mad.

[faceglitchsworld]

It's the first of November!

First and foremost, I hope you celebrated a good Halloween yesterday and spent a good time.

Now, let's enter into a new month by celebrating an old ma-I mean leader's day.

Happy birthday, Dann 🥳

As always have a look at the collage I made.

I know what you are thinking. It looks a little weird. Well, look at the center 🥺

I wanted to dedicate this collage to Dann's leadership instead of just focusing on just one member relationship so, here you go, you got Kingdom group selfies 😭

Finding these two pics has been a little difficult since Dann nowadays doesn't hold the phone like he usually did before. And I get it. Hwon is tall 🤣 Better use him as the selfie maker instead of forcing him to shrink himself 🤣

I also used a couple of two old screenshots of mine for making this collage! I needed to dive a little deeper in my phone's memory to find them but you can see them now! 😭

I might do the same for the last letter I should write for this month probably...

Anyway, here's the letter.

Today, we're celebrating the day of a leader who's the perfect example of what happens when you struggle to make others respect your authority.

Our Dann is a very simple man. He speaks a lot of languages—Mr. Worldwide indeed. He's experienced, a talented singer, and he might be a good actor, too. He's friendly and open—the perfect idol, if you ask me. But there's one last thing that our fox still struggles to get.

His members' respect.

If you've been into K-pop for a while, I think you perfectly know the entire gimmick/inside joke of the Leader that sometimes isn't able to manage the members or the jokes about the oldest members. Well, Dann is literally an incarnation of both.

This man tries everything, everything to be listened to by his members and what he gets is always one thing: S T R U G G L E. I never saw a leader struggle more than him. The disrespect he gets every time, how the members, especially Louis, mess up with him, and the betrayal ™ Arthur, his long-time member and friend, gives to him. This man deserves a break 🤣

But our man didn't give up; he fought back. And what's more effective to counterattack than embarrassing your fellow members? Dann is well aware that he's not just a leader but also the oldest member, so why not make your youngest fellows cringe by embracing the "how do you do, fellow kids?" meme? Since then, he has become unbeatable. He perfectly knows how to counterattack, like the respectable leader he is.

Jokes aside, I love Dann. He's my second bias in Kingdom, although he doesn't share the same spot as Ivan (I love my artic hare more, sorry Dann, hope you understand haha). His album is one of my favourites, it's in my top three.

I always had a soft spot for traditional music blended in pop music (spoiler, I will keep talking about it in the next letter for sure haha) and Dann's album immediately got my heart out when I listened to it for the first time. It's also the album that got a "better" treatment, considering he got two MVs instead of just one. And I wished the albums after Dann's followed the same formula, which would have highlighted the ballad or one of the b-sides in it. But oh well, guess we can't have everything in this world.

And what about his character inside the Kingdom's lore? The hero who first fought to bring peace to his kingdom but he gets broken immediately after all that struggle because of one, last tragedy? Perfect, immaculate, kinda relatable too. I have no idea how he will develop later in the story, I see him as kind of the wiser king compared to the others. He might not have the strongest powers as the other kings have or be "manipulative" but if he notices that something is going wrong, he notices it immediately and he'll do everything to find a solution before history repeats again and he'll see another tragedy happening in front of his eyes.

I don't know if it's the most accurate depiction of the character, again, I followed my vibes but it's an image that kind of fits Dann, both in the story but also in his career as an idol. I don't think I need to explain to you the entire history of Dann, I think almost everyone who digged a little into his past knows that, he already experienced the hardships and the suffering of seeing your dreams crushing and burning instead of blooming.

I think he saw the debut in Kingdom not only as a second opportunity but also as a way to make sure that his members would not go through the same path he went through. He protects them in any possible way and I think that, deep inside, he's also seen as that old, funky big brother everyone wished had by the members.

Dear Dann, I wasn't expecting this letter to be this long and I just highlighted a little part of you. Yesterday (in my timezone at least, I know it was midnight in Korea haha) you wanted to bless us with another cover and show us your vocal talent. I, and I think other Kingmes do too, love your passion for music, especially if we talk about your vocals, which bless us every time.

I briefly mentioned your struggles because I wanted to make this letter light-hearted. It's your birthday after all, haha. But I want to remind you that, whenever you feel down and think you might not make it this time, there's the love of your members and Kingmakers right on your back.

I'm glad you're taking more and more steps in songwriting too and you're building your place into Kingdom's history by writing cool songs. I loved Gundam and I can't wait for the day you'll be able to write a title track too. Hope this day will come soon.

My birthday wish for you is that you'll finally manage to be listened to by your members for once. It will probably happen soon I believe, but if it will not happen, well, keep going, I believe in you 😤

Happy birthday, little cute fox 🦊

[6okuto]

sorry sorry I absolutely LOVE your works and I am SCREAMING AT YOUR THEME AND PROFILE PIC LIKE AAAHHH ??

like omg a fellow Kaoru Hana wa Rin to Saku fan omg screaming 😞😞 I swear I squealed seeing Christmas version kaoruko as your pfp !! so if you don't mind answering, what's your fav character from it?

(trying to spread rintaro love around here, he's perfect and I love him, and kaoruko, and his friends, and his family, god the whole fucking cast)

OMFG. UGET ME?! YOUUUFBDJGBH kaoruko.. :( she's so cutesie shes just a girl i love her so much... as for fav chara... in general it's kind of rare for me to not have a fave chara + for romances it's always Easily the main girl/couple. but like,, i rlly love everybody so bad. this shit was made for me. but. i think. Ok. I think it'd have to be like... rin + kaoruko >=? rin's family + subaru + natsusawa >? usami yorita madoka etc

>=? is a questionable greater than symbol because they feel quite equal at the end of the day like. Everybody growing and learning to open up and caring for each other no matter the love and warmth the self doubt and blame and forgiveness and acceptance like the friend group is my lockscreen i love them . this is peak nia luvring core bro

i seriously love rin and kaoruko. RIN. i'm so attached to this guy he's perfect he's sooo so sweet and whenever he blames himself for things i feel like throwing up GET BEHIND ME :( he's opened up a lot but he's always been so kind and i'm so happy he's found such great friends 😭😭 ohmgmkdgn. kaoruko. come on. < girl who likes tohru and yuki like let's be serious. she loves her friends so much and works so hard and tries not to worry people but she deserves to be cared for like ohmyfogdopela?!$! also she's soo cutieful i love all her hairstyles and outfits omg. And like.. their relationship is so nice... i love the way it happened and how they want to be better and love each other and get nervous abt compliments and stuff and. oh man. i'm nauseous i love u guys so bad

the mangaka does so well fleshing everyone out and... rin + kaoruko's relationship just feels so genuine and warm i feel like i'm going to explode but really truly Every relationship is soo important. i love the whole cast u don't know how much i just cut out of this answer because i was rambling FSBGJDHBG like i'm going to throw up i just want everyone to be happy...mannn... in a way their problems are similar as young students but they're still distinct and instead of being like Damn another backstory i'm always like YEAAASS!!! like i'm excited to see how they deal w their schools as a group but i'm happy with learning about everyone y'know. GRAHH! i love u kaoru hana wa rin to saku. i wish i knew how to shorten its name. its jpn and eng names r both long i cant breathe

[purrpickle]

Here, have some more Royalty AU!Mon headcanons and thought dumps!

...Followed by another fanfic scene drop under the read more because of course. (...Can't really call it a ficlet anymore with the combined writing I've done so far.)

(Again, I can't post links without tumblr eating this, but you can search Royalty AU!Mon on my blog and find the other parts of this 'verse if you want context.)

First, more guest ideas that I agree with completely from @kiarcheo that I will incorporate into the 'verse. Thank you!

Now mine because of course I couldn't stop thinking about it either. These jump around a bit as they are highly indulgent of how my brain works.

While Mon has access to quite a bit of money, she's been living without it for years, held in an account that she can only get into for emergencies, probably needing to go through her father until she reaches a certain age (I'm thinking 25?). This was on purpose, and something Mon grew up with, so her feelings of being a sugar baby and being unable to get Sam a birthday present are real. It's only when she's in England and attending to her duties that she has money to spend because she pretty much has to to be presentable. So that scene in Ep 5 where she left the party because she felt so inferior is real. She's never had that kind of money in Thailand, so for her, that inability to provide for Sam like she thinks she should is her truth.

Mon's social media accounts are pretty well managed, due to Mon having to submit her posts to her father's own social media management team first (one of the things he asked her to do when she started getting into Facebook and Instagram and Twitter, etc.). Mon doesn't mind, really, knowing the probability of her accounts getting recognized because of something she accidentally posts or something that wouldn't be good to be blasted on news outlets years later goes down. Besides, when she turned 16, she negotiated to be the only one capable of signing in to her accounts for personal privacy sake, so none of Sam's 'Wanna suck mouth' or 'Bragging. I. Did. It. With Mon' gets seen by anyone other than her (or the friend group), anyway. It's practically second nature now, sending off her ideas, especially when she gets a response pretty quickly, but there are times where she wishes she could post that pic or this TikTok, except it makes her much too recognizable or not presentable.

The only picture she's managed to get approved of her and Sam is one where Mon's slightly behind her, her laughing face pressed against the side of her shoulder as Sam gives an unamused glare at Tee behind the camera. Mon hadn't really tried to submit too many, even though she wanted to celebrate her lover, because not only did Sam not really care for putting her own picture up online (versus the staged ones Tee, Kade, and Jim did), but Sam was recognizable herself, and potential diplomatic fallout was always a real worry as well. Instead, all her other pics are safely stored on her phone and backed up.

(Ironically, knowing that her own social media accounts were tempered and not a truly full illustration of who she was, Mon had still genuinely believed Sam's were because they matched up so perfectly with the teenager she had known and idolized.)

Speaking of photos, Mon knows she can't do anything about Tee, Kade, Jim, or Yuki (or sometimes Nop or her coworkers) taking pictures of her and posting them themselves, but she's managed to make it clear to all of them what kind of photos she doesn't want them to put up, and by and large her combination of earnest puppy dog eyes and firm requests pulling on their better natures (hah!) does the trick. Of course a few slip through and all Mon can do is hope they get buried and never see the light of day. (I'll let you use your imagination what those could be.)

Mon had wondered if Kade had recognized her when they first met, having known the actor had spent time in Europe, but what she didn't say during the interrogation had told her she hadn't. Which is nice. Kade is a dramatic sweetheart, and aside from telling everyone when she saw her and Sam kissing, she's been a very good friend. Mon had even mused to herself that if her secret ever got out, Kade would probably be the one who would understand it the most due to her lakorn work.

Mon always has to have her phone near in case it's a message or alert from her father or to her in capacity of a member of her royal family. She's so used to checking each alert or vibration as soon as they sound that it doesn't matter where she is or what she's doing. Very rarely does she turn her phone onto Do Not Disturb, but she has the important numbers set to ring anyway. She knows Sam thinks it's because of her being part of Gen Z, and to be honest, Mon plays it up a little. She has to when she does things like:

A vibration, and she's pulling her phone up in the middle of a presentation she's giving about Diversity Pop. A ding! and she's pulling back from Sam's arms to reach over to the bedside table to check Facebook. A ring, and she's excusing herself from the meeting between her, Sam, Kirk, and Noi to discuss her coming back to Diversity, reappearing twenty minutes later with a tight stressed look on her face that only changes into a new tight stressed look when she's informing Sam later that night that she has to fly to England the next day to take care of some things with her father.

*

((Under here is where the continuing fic is. Again, kinda rough because I'm trying to not let myself get too obsessed with making it perfect with these exploratory scenes.))

*

Sam stood up, crossing her arms as she turned to stare at Mon still sitting on the couch. "I thought you weren't going to England."

Mon looked up at her. "I'm not moving there, Lady Sam."

"Then why are you going?"

It was Sam's churlish tone, a step away from becoming angry as she obviously fought to keep from being accusatory, and Mon sighed, nodding. Leaning forward to reach out and slide her hand down Sam's rigid arm, she gently tugged her a little closer so she could use her in suggestion of needing to pull on her to stand up, Sam stubbornly lightly swaying with the motion as if in protest.

Once she was on her feet, Mon managed a smile at Sam, stroking her hands up to wrap around her tensed upper arms. "Lady Sam," she started gently, meeting her gaze, trying to put as much reassurance into her voice and expression as she could, "When I made plans to move there, my father set some things in motion for me and I need to visit him to help him undo them."

"Like what?" It was immediate. Petulant.

"I need to sign some documents, talk in person with a few people..." Studying Sam to make sure she was listening to her, Mon softened her voice even more. She knew Sam was struggling not to panic or jump to conclusions, but Mon needed to do this; needed to meet in person to explain why she wasn't fully assuming her royal status just yet like she had said she was. "My father really stuck his neck out for me, and I want to see him. Help in any way I can." Gently pulling on Sam's still crossed arms until she disentangled them to allow her to take her hands in hers, Mon squeezed them. "Even though I don't regret staying, I feel guilty. ...I have to make things right."

As much as Sam didn't want her to go, Mon didn't want to go either. Aside from seeing her father, there was nothing else in England that made her want to pull away from the lover she had just gotten back, and it hurt to think about being away from her at all. She had focused so intently on England in the past few months, even before deciding to move back, and part of her was just as afraid that if she left to go there, she would be never coming back.

Sam inhaled sharply, looking away. Her body still incredibly tense, she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut for a few moments before turning back. She stared at Mon. "And you're not staying there?"

Mon's heart cracked. She shook her head. "No, Lady Sam." She was going to do everything to make sure she came back. Leaning forward, she closed distance between them with a smile, Sam's gaze automatically dropping to flicker along her lips like they always did even if that was the furthest thing from her mind. "It should only be for a few days. A week at most." Pressing a kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth, Mon straightened back up. She wiggled Sam's hands in hers. "Once everything's settled, I'll be on the very next flight home." Mon knew she sounded more confident than she felt, and she gave Sam another smile. "I promise."

Sam looked at her intently, eyes darkening as she studied Mon's.

Mon gazed back up at her.

Please don't please don't please don't -

Sam did. She lifted her head. "No. I'm going with you."

Even though she had worried about Sam deciding that, Mon flinched, hoping she had misheard her. "What?"

Sam nodded firmly, her normal brash assertiveness suddenly filling her up again. She took over the handhold, fingers wrapping around Mon's slackened grip, tightening as she nodded again. "Yes! That's it. I'm going with you. We'll be together, and then we can even make a trip of it. Since you're already going to be flying, it will be perfect." She sounded excited, assured, certain that would solve the issues as her expression brightened.

No. No no no. Mon stared up at her in alarm. "You can't do that, Lady Sam."

Sam stopped, frowning at Mon. Her brow furrowed. "Why not?" This time, it was a little accusatory.

Mon drew in a breath. "Lady Grandmother still needs your help. I can't forgive myself if I take you away from her."

Blinking as if she hadn't thought about that, Sam dropped Mon's hands, and Mon curled them together in front of herself.

She continued. "And so does Diversity, with Yha and Chin and then myself coming back. The office needs you to keep everything running."

*

[[Fast forward to where Sam and Mon are sitting on the couch again after Sam argues that she doesn't need to stay while Mon sticks to convincing her she does need to stay, because I couldn't find the words and moved on]]

*

"I don't want you to go."

Mon knew it wasn't an order or request. It was a statement, Sam openly showing her her distress, trusting her with how she felt. Trusting her to be able to understand her.

"I just got you back. I don't want to lose you." Sam exhaled thickly, looking up to blink back tears before meeting Mon's gaze again. "Mon... Not again."

Reaching up, cupping Sam's face, Mon swallowed as tears gathered in her own eyes, her thumbs stroking along Sam's cheeks. "I know. If I could push it back any later, I would. We haven't had a lot of time together again, yet." She shook her head, sniffing. "But this is time sensitive. I have to go." Pulling Sam's unresisting head forward to press a soft, slow kiss to her lips, Sam kissing her back, Mon gave Sam the best smile she could muster before moving back in to kiss her again. "I'm not leaving you, Lady Sam." She stroked her fingers through Sam's hair, then dropped them to rest on her shoulders, Sam inhaling jerkily as she suddenly moved forward onto her lap, straddling her. Sliding her arms around Sam's shoulders and shivering as Sam's hands wrapped around her hips in turn, Mon leaned in to kiss her again. It was deeper, longer, Mon trying to press all her affection and love and feelings into it.

When Mon pulled back, Sam swallowed, expression disgruntled even as her hands slid along Mon's back, arms circling around her to pull her closer. "Mon. I know you're trying to distract me."

Mon gave her a small grin. "Is it working?" When Sam only sharpened her look at her, Mon sighed, nodding, and shifted to rest her chin on Sam's shoulder.

Going along with changing their embrace into a hug, Sam lay her head on Mon's.

Mon sat there, breathing against Sam, letting herself just be with her, something that still felt new again and special, something to hold onto with both hands in case this was just a temporary dream.

Finally, Sam swallowed, turning her chin to press a kiss into Mon's hair, her arms tightening momentarily around her. "You understood when I needed to go to Grandmother," she began, voice starting and stopping as if she was still gathering her thoughts as she spoke, "So it's only fair if I do the same for you. You spoke about love needing trust, so I need to trust you that you'll come back to me." Inhaling, Sam's voice broke when she finished in a rough whisper, "But Mon. I'm scared."

Mon's heart broke, and she moved back, taking in Sam's dark, vulnerable gaze. "Lady Sam..."

Sam shook her head, tears starting to build in her eyes again. "I'm scared," she repeated.

She didn't have to say what she was scared about, because Mon knew. It was too soon, still too raw that they had almost lost each other to the same place Mon now had to go to.

Opening her mouth, then thinking better of saying what she was going to, Mon sat up. Settling more of her weight back, towards Sam's lower thighs, she pulled Sam to her chest after a moment of her lover looking at her before closing her eyes and letting her, stroking her hair as she held her. As Sam leaned into her, wrapping around her as she allowed herself in turn to be held, it was strange, being the strong one for Sam, but Mon wanted to be that for her. Needed to show her that she could comfort her too.

"I love you, darling. So, so much. So I don't allow you to be scared," Mon murmured, calling back to the first time she slept over in what was now her and Sam's house. "Hmm? Do you hear me?" She squeezed Sam securely as she poured all her love into her voice, "We're not losing each other, Lady Sam. I'll be back here with you before you know it."

Sam exhaled, making Mon shiver as her warm breath passed through her blouse to caress along sensitive skin, and turned her head to press a lingering kiss to Mon's arm where it curled around her. "I love you too."

And for a little while, it was as simple as that.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

I Send you a double character because they must not be separated : Yuma and Astral

YEEEEEAHHH

favorite thing about them: For Yuma! I,, fucking love that this kid is kind of a loser. LIKE FOR A YUGIOH PROTAG THATS SUCH A COOL THING TO SEE it helps play up this idea that you can grow and get better at dueling and that anyone can be a great duelist if they work at it! Let us see our protagonist lose sometimes!!! It's a good thing!!!! He's just such a believable middle schooler to me. For Astral! I love just how deadpan he is, I've always loved "alien/nonhuman entity comes to earth and has to learn earth things" and Astral's just so great with that. He's so FUNNY. I love watching him learn about the power of friendship it rules!!!!

least favorite thing about them: im going to be real, I can't actually think of anything really concrete for this for yuma or astral?? I just like 'em. I wasn't expecting to be this into either of them but I've ended up really enjoying their characters!!

favorite line: I can't think of one for Astral off the top of my head but I'm very excited to see if anything in the zexal 2 dub goes as hard as Yuma yelling at Vetrix and telling him "you think they [the Arclight brothers] owed you their lives because they're your kids, but youre wrong!" because jesus FUCK i still think about that.

brOTP: each other of course!!!! Not particularly engaged with them in a romantic context (as i said when I talked about Trey, in general I just don't particularly care much about shipping younger teen characters) but platonic soulmates let's fuckin GOOOO!!!!! I do also in general love Yuma's little friend gaggle it feels like such a middle school weirdkid friend group ;___;

OTP: See above. sidenote idk who people even ship Astral with otherwise?!?!? Dark Mist maybe??? sure alright

nOTP: Not a fan of Kite/Yuma. Yuma is 13. Be normal please.

random headcanon: For Yuma, I think he would be really good at running cross country (didn't his sub VA outrun a horse once?? yeah.) For Astral, I think he would really like ASMR. Like if Yuma showed him ASMR videos that would be it, he'd be all about it. He'd be listening to them constantly and putting Yuma to sleep in the middle of the afternoon.

unpopular opinion: i love dub yuma to bits this kid is a bouncy little doofus and he's funny and GREAT. I actually dont think I've seen enough Zexal to have an unpopular opinion about Astral? Maybe once I'm more fully done with the series.

song i associate with them: I WISH I HAD ONE ;__; i dont rly have any zexal character songs just cuz these guys havent finished simmering in my brain yet. much like with trey im sure i'll find one for either of these guys eventually

favorite picture of them: IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO PICK ONE FAV PIC OF YUMA THEY MADE THIS KID SO EXPRESSIVE!!!! every time he makes a goofy face is my favorite. so instead heres one of my fav pics of (zexal) yuma and astral together

it really feels like the platonic ideal of their personalities, this image.

[aeslandsong]

i'm going to try and eat a clean diet for the rest of my life, take part in cleanses, detoxes, drink a good amount of water everyday, and exercise. no more caffeine, it makes me cry because i'm sensitive to it now. i'm happier with golden milk blend, which has anti-cancer properties and it benefits your skin. hopefully i can find a better support system with like minded people that got sick of drugs, even marijuana, and will support me. it all made me so sick and i took out my delusions online because i literally thought certain things were happening to me, sounding like a complete idiotic piece of shit and damaging reputations. hopefully people just rejected what i said by seeing that i was insane and ignored the slander that i created by being delusional. i'm better than my past in this moment and i need to continue to know that my life is limited and i cannot handle what other people can. i have to start believing it 100% and move on. i also have to stop missing people that have been ignoring and avoiding me that i used to be close to. it's hard though, i'm always going to have a heart for my past, before i had a psychotic break and was actually a popular, beautiful girl. maybe i can find a group of friends again. i know i am capable of being my best self and treating others with respect over thinking they were persecuting me. i have led a long life of being delusional and it exasperated by not taking care of myself. i'm done being fucked up towards people that do not give a shit about me nor want anything to do with me. but there are people out there that do want to get to know me, be a support system and have love for me and i just need to remember that when i feel alone. maybe i can make more friends on tumblr too. maybe people will want to talk to me again seeing that i'm actually putting effort into myself. i'm over being embarrassed by my past, i think that means i'm maturing or reaching another stage of my life instead of having certain obsessions. if anyone has connections to people in popular social media and can help me delete accounts that i can't access anymore, please help me. it would lift a lot of paranoia and stress from my body, soul and mind. and it'd be a miracle if anyone looked out for me like that. i know it's keeping me from getting a worthwhile job and i know i can't even sign up for onlyfans because of my social media. i don't really know if i want to join anyway but i know i'd have fun posting pics of my outfits and doing suggestive photos and videos because it's a form of entertainment to me and i had been doing it for so long. i'm still nice to look at and i know i attract others, which is a blessing and a curse. i wish i could attract the right people, and i need to change my life for that. i need to try and be more social with the right crowd. i know i can find a honey if i present myself well. i'm done being a disappointment and form to mock instead of wanting to engage with me. i miss a lot of people from my past, even the people i just had moments with because they were special to me. i hope i can still find my soul mate one day. i'm still a lovable, cute person, even more so than when i was younger. i'm very polite now and i'm following rules. i am well liked by others, but none of them are material for dating, they're my peers at the program and it's not just a rehab, that's a small portion. it's a day program for the mentally ill. i need someone stable and someone that wants to try with me. i hope if i do fall in love, i can keep it together. i want to feel infatuated again with someone but in a stable way. i want to be able to be someone that they want to take care of and be there for. i need someone light hearted that can laugh at my social media and just love me despite it. there has to be a sweetheart out there for me. i'm only growing cuter by the day as i get healthier and improve. i don't want to cry anymore, it's such an ugly expression. it's cathartic but i know for me, if i have to write to get out of my sadness, i'm going to do it to keep busy.

[stardusthuntress]

You’re not invisible to me either. I know how hard it is to never be seen by the guys who’s attention you want. I’ve always been the third wheel, the one that stands next to the pretty one. I’ve never been the one guys notice. But I’m learning that’s a good thing. That the ones who go for the pretty girls are daft and oblivious and just looking for trophy wives want to spend the rest of their lives being his cleaning lady.

This is gonna sound like the stereotypical answer, I know, but hear me out: I have a feeling you may need a new group of friends. Friends who have other ways of having a good time. See if those friends who you enjoy but don’t hang out with very often maybe want to go to see a movie with you and then get dinner and talk about it for hours afterwards. Or if they want to accompany you to a board game lounge or put together a friend group who wants to play boardgames in the break room at the end of a long day of work. Or dnd! Figure I it when your local airshow is and see who wants to go with you to that. Or if there’s a planetarium or observatory or the local science museum! Post a pic of some upcoming event at one of those (they often have evening events for adults too), and ask different friends than your usual ones - maybe that nerdy guy people rarely talk to but everyone enjoys, or the other people from work who feel the same way. Spend a little extra time in the break room during lunch so that your lunchtime overlaps with at least one other person (might take a few days, that’s normal) and ask them how their family is doing (not them, we all know heading “I’m great” doesn’t help anyone, but their family probably has both ups and downs going on, and it can help to hear about someone else who is struggling too, no matter what the struggle is, even if aunt sally just got her hip replaced, hearing it helps because you know you’re not alone).

I’m still searching for more fun ways to hang out with friends too. So far I’ve only found 1 respite, and there’s only 3-4 people who enjoy it too. Board games. Surprised the hell outta me. I’ve never enjoyed board games, but it turned out I was just playing them with the wrong people. Took me a few years and a lotta tears tho (didn’t mean to make that rhyme, but I’m learning that can be a fun thing instead of a cringey thing, so imma leave the rhyme in there).

Go to the local Barnes and noble. Bring your laptop or a good book - I recommend the Giver if you haven’t read that one yet, or even if you have - and sit in the corner by the cafe. You don’t have to talk to anyone, just do something around good people. Maybe do it over lunch so you can grab a sandwich and some caffeine and keep reading. I promise it will help.

I used to be in the same shoes. One of my best friends was always the pretty one. Guys who come up to talk to her, and when she tried to bring me - the awkward, quiet, homely, nerd standing next to her - into the conversation I’d get a quick “oh, I guess your friend is nice too” comment, and their attention would be back on her. I’m not saying she was a bad friend. She tried. I still love her tons. But not hanging out with her every single day has really helped me. I found some coworkers I enjoy working with who taught me how fun board games can be with the right people. I’m going in circles now, because that’s like the extent of my social life. And I’ve been volunteering for outreach events at work! I think that counts! Getting to show kids the stuff I do is surprisingly fun. Far more fun than sitting alone with my computer actually doing the work anyways. And it makes me feel better about typing numbers into spreadsheets hour after hour. I thought I was invisible too, until the kiddos and the right coworkers showed me they cared and that there were other fun things that eventually stopped the inadequacies from taking up quite as much space at the Im forefront of my mind. It’s still there - I really really wish I could be one of the pretty girls - but I’m learning that the focus on the fun thing is actually making me more attractive than I had been before. Idk why or how - and I’m a scientist so I feel like I should have an answer to that, but I’m gonna let myself be ok with not having an answer - but I do know that those fun things are making a big difference. And the right friends. I was terrified of going to a board game lounge with my friends. Thought it was gonna be exactly the same as all the other times I’d been out and been the ignored friend, but it wasn’t! And now I wanna go back there. Something I never thought I’d say.

It’s the little things you just do because you can and your an adult now that make more difference than you think they ever will. Sometimes the thing your afraid of is still worth doing. My new friend group doesn’t push me if I don’t want to do a thing, they just say “ok, well if you change your mind you’re still welcome to join us” and they mean it. And it makes all the difference.

Maybe we should get a group together on here to do something fun? Even if it’s like we all just sit on zoom and silently write for an hour, or vent about how tired we are, at least we’d all be doing something with people with similar interests. Chatting about what stories each of us is writing could help us all feel better about having friends.l with similar interests. What do you think?

going out is getting harder and harder for me :(

all I’ve ever wanted is to be the girl guys want to come up and talk to. I want to be wanted. Everything I’ve done my whole life, all the growing up and changing and even feeling better about myself…it’s still the same result. I stand around and I feel ignored, isolated and unseen even while I’m surrounded by hundreds of people.

It makes me feel like no matter what I will always be invisible. And that’s why I never want to leave my house any more.

[kitty-av]

Hello, I have been thinking of making the clone gang into my OCs for a while now ( kinda inspired by Mortified because it's a great fanfic, I love me some characters we see for 1 min being utilised and explored ) so I kinda just... Did.

Ok so here are my bois, first I shall show a group line-up, then I introduce them in segments.

Sound good? Ok, here they are!

These are the clone squad in human form, though I'm still debating on whether they are hypothetical forms, or if they're all halfas like Dani.

Also I have never really drawn Danielle, so she may look wonky until I get the hang of it lol

Anyway, introductions:

This man is Dante, he's the skeleton ghost, and I based his design off of two things: his nose looks like it would be different than Danny's, and he had a bedsheet.

So therefore, he gets wavy hair, and a similar build to Danny, except his nose is different and I tried to define his brows and their wrinkles a bit more ( I don't know how to explain it better )

Dante is quite possibly the most laid back from the clone squad because there really weren't any expectations he had to deliver on, unlike his siblings.

He's the second oldest, which means Vlad was just ok with him existing because he was still getting the hang of the whole cloning thing.

This means he had time to work on his hobbies, like art and gardening and just wind down after Vlad inevitably did something terrible.

He has leg prosthetics but because I was too excited to post, so I haven't figured out how to draw them yet, so for now he has long pant legs.

He's the mom friend of the gang, will frequently drag the rest of them out of their pods for bonding time because he knows they can get caught up in their problems.

They poke fun at him for his ' bedsheet ghost ' routine but he thinks it's funny and he's vibing, so they just kinda accept it. He actually uses the spooky voice too, just because.

He's the ' We have food at home ' sibling along with Dorian, but can switch to ' McDonalds ' sibling when he wants to make Danielle happy •^•

Now these two.

Oh, boy.

These two are traumatized let me tell you that.

Let's start with Dorian, who for the purposes of my sanity will be Dan level beefy instead of his canon beefiness. Just because I couldn't figure out how to draw it, and it's my design so screw it.

I had the idea of him looking like Jack because he's the oldest sibling so Vlad accidentally tapped into some genetics he probably didn't like.

As you can probably guess, Vlad is not his biggest fan.

Dorian is just the sweetest boi. He's the Jazz of the squad. Often ignores himself and accidentally becomes the therapist friend when there's nobody there to help him set his boundaries.

He's really into social justice, reading, and also rock/metal music ( because why not, it fits his ghost aesthetic too )

He just wants the best for his siblings, even though he's painfully aware Vlad is just... Vlad.

He will not hesitate to curb stomp you if you become a threat to his family, and while he's very patient, the clone gang has sorta given him a sixth sense for detecting mischief.

I'm serious, he walks into a room and just knows they did something.

He chooses to wear formal adjacent clothing himself, it isn't Vlad that made him do it. He feels comforted by the routine of styling himself.

Now, Dominic: I'm gonna put the pic back here for reference.

This lil man

He is just... Full of anger. And issues.

First, his design was meant to have a lot of triangular shapes to kinda match Danny's, as well as to bring more attention to his face.

His eye is just gone in human form as well. It falls off constantly, so he doesn't bother and just carries it in a pouch in his pocket. Dorian finds that understandably disturbing, and Dante is somewhere between ' I can make eye puns when he brings it up ' and ' dude I wish my brother would have better care for himself '.

He's the third clone, and Vlad's favourite until Danielle happened. Unfortunately, because we can't have nice things, he's constantly unstable in ghost form, and because of that Vlad pushed him hard enough for him to develop the shrinking, purely out of his want to disappear and hide.

Dominic despises Vlad from the bottom of his heart, because unlike with Dani, Vlad didn't bother hiding his disappointment and loopiness when it came to his ' almost perfect son '

He's pretty jaded because of this, and he swore to himself that Dani would not suffer like he did, so he allowed himself to get blackmailed into behaving by Vlad. Basically the deal was that Dominic would obey without question, and Dani will be happy and oblivious to the fact he literally doesn't care.

Later on, Vlad tells him that he'll have Danielle overshadow Danny, but he volunteers instead because he knows it won't end well, and he's absolutely right. Vlad probably knew this so he told him specifically so his ' problem child ' wouldn't be a problem.

He would literally fight anyone, despite the fact he has bad depth perception, a lack of real offensive abilities, and an incredible lack of solidity/stability.

He probably waits for the summer with anticipation because he can fire tiny ectoblasts at Vlad and pretend it was mosquitoes.

Besides all the angst and trauma, he has a passion for theatre and mischief. He and Dani are incredibly close and prank everyone. Dominic probably taught her the ' faint to get out of a difficult conversation ' trick.

He can't talk in tiny form, it just sounds like bells ( like Tinkerbell )

Dante probably teases him for ' doing puberty wrong ' and Dominic strikes back with digs against the ' bedsheet ghost routine '. They're vibing.

Dorian and Dominic are also Metal/Rock music buddies and will listen to music together while Dorian is reading some book or other. Dominic is incredibly grateful to have his support despite all the headaches his mischief cause, and he often serves as Dorian's ' boundaries cheerleader ' so to speak.

He's the ' One black coffee ' sibling if you hadn't noticed. Only he'd probably hand it to Danielle because she's his partner in crime.

Now Dani herself, she absolutely adores her brothers. She doesn't understand why Vlad doesn't, but she thinks she can change his mind because he ' likes ' her. Then when he calls her brothers ' mistakes ' she goes ' ok I can't, but if he stabilises me, I can maybe save them too ' because she's precious like that .

Unfortunately, things don't work that way, and so when she leaves Amity park she's kinda confronted with the realisation that ' oh damn, I actually helped murder Dorian, and Dominic wouldn't help Vlad without good reason so he probably took my place ' and that's not exactly a pleasant realization.

The reason she doesn't come back for help earlier than D-stabilized is actually because of guilt. She doesn't feel like she deserves the help after what happened. Then she reminds herself that her brothers wanted her to be happy and goes off to find Danny.

I know this was a lot of angst, so here, have some sketches to balance it out OwO

I'm thinking I also have them come back as ghosts because I want my children to be happy together, but I haven't figured out unique ghost designs for them yet. It feels cheap giving them their clone designs when they're now their own people yknow?

Thank you for reading all this, I'm really happy to finally share my bois with the Phandom •^• if y'all have any thoughts or questions feel free to share.

I'm just glad I did this because doing character design in the DP style is fun, especially considering how Dorian and Dante's facial features had to be built on top of skeletal/unfinished structure ( their noses in particular ) so that was exciting to figure out (ㆁωㆁ)

[sashi-ya]

Hello there. I wanted to start by saying I really love your work. I have a request that I've been holding back on out of embarrassment; it's rather personal. I see you're a doctor though so putting it in your hands feels better and maybe it's a good fit?

What are your thoughts on how Zoro, Law, and maaaybe Crocodile (if you write for him) would react to a female crush or SO with hand/arm scarring + missing finger? If you want to make it less specific, just visible old injuries in general? Lots of the men in OP have amputations, scars, etc and they look badass but as a chick I can't help but feel so many negative things.

Headcannons or short stories, anything would be great. Thank you for considering.

PS- I adore your profile pic

My darling! you should never EVER be embarrassed about any wound or anything your body has. I love scars, wanna know why? because I think every scar has a story to tell. When I see my own scars, or from others, I think about everything that happens to that person to be right there in front of me. Some wounds tell stories about sleepless nights of pure joy, others about mistakes, some about dark and terrible moments in our lives. But you know what? if there are scars on your body, it is because they got enough time to heal. And that just means that you are now here. You have gone from the moment the wound was open to now. Closed. Fixed. A remaining blob of fibroblastic cells, collagen and all that stuff your body does to close wounds.

Plus, I think scars make people so unique. Like when we choose to dye our hair or pierce our ears. Scars made us unique. To be honest, I simply love them.

Yet, I know there are so many people that use those “differences” to bully those who have them… That makes me really sad. They are afraid of knowing others' stories because they have probably never cured a wound deep inside their soul, they don’t have closed injuries, they haven’t fixed them still. Be patient with them, someday they will heal too…

I hope you enjoy these two stories. I’m afraid I don’t really know how to write for Crocodile yet. It’s a deep sensitive topic here so I wanted to write for those characters I know the most. I hope you don’t mind.

Scars made us unique, you are beautiful ♥ ~

Ps: thank u about your kind words darling ♥ ~

Trafalgar Law & Roronoa Zoro ~ Reacting To Their Crush Scars ~ Short Stories.

TW: Scars, reaction to them. Fluff.

WC: 1.3K

Roronoa Zoro.

“Oi, aren’t you hot y/n?” the swordsman asks her. “N-not really” she lies, covering her arm with a long sleeve coat she usually wears. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky, the sun is hitting their skins on that hot island, and she just walks next to her crew mates, enduring the suffocating weather.

“We should split in groups” your nakama Nami suggests. “Yeah, you are right!” Luffy says and runs towards who knows where. Some of them follow her captain, others form their own group. “Uhm… (name) would you like to come with me?” asks Zoro, a little shy. He is known for getting lost and since she joined the crew, she is kind of his gps.

“Yes, let’s go” she tells him, sweating. Zoro looks at her face, she looks bad, she looks hot, she is sweating and somehow not breathing as she should. They walk over the scolding streets under the midday sun, and she stills wears that long coat.

But she is a human, and humans aren’t supposed to be exposed to such high temperatures… Zoro speaks about who knows what, and she is not listening. “Oi...y/n?” asks Zoro, and before he could hear an answer from her, she just faints. The mosshead grabs her in his arms.

He is no doctor but knows that she should take that coat off as quickly as possible. Zoro’s heart beats faster, he is really scared for her. “Oi… come on Y/N. Fuck! I wish Chopper was here” he says. He slides the sleeves of her clothes off. The swordsman doesn’t notice her injured hand, instead, he pours some water over her face. A face he usually watches from afar, a face he loves and praises in secret. He has a huge crush on her, and trembles at the idea of her feeling bad.

She opens her eyes, slowly. The sun doesn’t hit her, because Zoro is trying to block it with her huge back. She looks at his face, traveling with her eyes the scar over his eye. “So handsome” she thinks. “Oi, Y/N! Are you alright? You need to drink some water!!” he says and takes the canteen to her lips.

She stands up, her hand touching the hot pavement. “Auch” she says and takes her hand to her mouth. She blows to cool it down… Soon, she realizes Zoro’s looking directly at her wounds. But he does not say anything. He simply grabs her hand, and blows. She looks at him, and even if she doubts a little in between taking her hand off, she simply lets the swordsman hold it.

She waits for the inevitable question. “What happened?”. But Zoro never asks. He smiles at her and kisses her hand, soft pecks over every single wound. He helps her stand. “Let me help you. We should find Chopper, he should check on you” he says, and carries her on his wide back.

“You shouldn’t use this during these temperatures, Y/N” he says. She sighs and kisses the swordsman on his cheek. “Thank you” she whispers. “You are so pretty, stop covering yourself” ... On the far side they spot Dr. Chopper.

Now, every time Zoro and you are alone, he kisses your hand. No need to say anything. No need to speak. Zoro knows perfectly about having scars. That mark that crosses his chest, that may have haunted him for a long, long time, is now the reminder he should never give up. He thinks scars are reminders, that are part of who we are. So, why wouldn't he like something that makes you be who you are if he is in love with you?... ♥ ~

Trafalgar Law:

Bepo ran, Shachi followed him. Penguin was setting the fire for the BBQ. You were putting up a big parasol on the sand. Law was still inside the Polar Tang. After everything you and your crew has been through, finally your Captain agreed that it was time for some time off. Your nakamas choose a summer island to rest, and so there was where the Submarine was finally docked.

Everything seemed so calm, until everything went down. A huge storm approached the coast. Wind started to blow like crazy. Bepo, worried, told everyone that the New World weather was no joke and that everybody should get on the submarine before the big stormy cloud hit them… but no one heard. “Bepo, are you sure?” you asked. “Ayaya! I am! Where is Law?” he said. “He has a big migraine” Penguin said as he passed with a huge bowl of lettuce.

You trust your navigator, so you told him that you were going to inform Law about the situation. The crew would for sure listen to him.

You knocked on the metal door of your captain's room. “Captain… excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you”. “Mhj… what is it Y/N?” he asked from inside. “Bepo says a big storm is approaching soon, and that we should come inside. But nobody's listening to him. He is worried. Could you please tell the others to obey him?”. You waited for a response, but there was none. A few seconds later, the door opened, and there was your captain. Way more dark circles than ever, sleepy eyes and an annoyed frown. “Let’s go” he said, putting his white hat on. You two climbed the metallic lather to the main deck. The sky was now grey, black almost. The wind blew strongly.

Law sat on the railing and shouted to the coast. “Oi guys, enter for the love of God! Don’t you see the fucking storm?”. “Captaaaain” everybody complained. “NOW” he commanded, and everybody started boarding the yellow underwater craft. “Tch… they are just like kids…” he grunted.

A huge cold wind gust hit you. Law’s hat flew away. He leaned his stomach over the railing to catch it, but he slipped, and fell. Law sank into the choppy sea. “Law!!!”. He is a devil fruit user, he cannot swim, and he was gonna drown. You didn’t even think twice and jumped into the water, holding the ropes from the sails with one of your hands.

Your captain -and crush- sank, he had closed his eyes, holding his hat strongly with one of his hands. You fought against the black cold waves that tried to separate you from your captain.

He opened his eyes underwater, fixing those grey irises on yours. There was just one way to save his life. He had to grab your hand. That hand you don’t like at all, that hand that has marks, wounds, scars. That hand that somehow you didn’t use. That hand you say so many times it was “useless”. And then… that hand was what was going to give life, that would save Law from drowning.

You extended your arm, and he grabbed it. He held strongly to it, his soft inked fingers squeezing your scars. His life was holding onto them.

Your nakamas pulled from the rope, Law and you emerged. His body remained over the deck of the Polar Tang and you sat on his side.

Your captain finally opened his eyes, he spit some salted water. He felt weak, but nothing stopped him from what he did next. His eyes fixed on yours, and his hand squeezing your wounded one. Law knew how much you had avoided using that arm. And he knew it, because there is nothing, he would miss about you. He loves you, but he never told you… it’s so difficult for him to express his feelings...

“Thanks, Y/N-ya” he whispered. You felt his thumb softly caressing your scars. “You saved my life, you know?”. You just nodded. “I will never forget this saving hand” he told you and gave you a weak smile. Your eyes got blurry; some tears accumulated on them… He took your hand to his tanned skin and you softly brushed your fingers over his cheek… ♥ ~

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

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[literature-cult]

im in my feelings so here's a post about my ex-best friend.

we met in 3rd grade. she was new to our school and i was her first friend. she was the first real friend i had. we talked about everything. had too many inside jokes to count. i introduced her to my friend group and we all used to hang out together, but she and i were the only true friends there. around middle school, she started getting popular. and at first it was fun. we'd laugh together about the boys who had crushes on her and the girls who hated her. of course i was happy for her, but part of me wished to be her. soon enough she was the most popular girl in school. she knew about this one guy who i've had a major crush on since first grade, i used to tell her all about my feelings for him. turns out her had a crush on her, and made it very public. i guess i should've seen it coming when she didn't say anything to me or to him and continued to lead him on. i always said to myself that she's my best friend, of course she wouldn't try anything with him.

looking back, i see it now. my classmates who Ignored her when she was the new girl ay school were idolizing her now. she became more obsessed with keeping up her image and i didn't realize how she was always putting me aside. for a while, some people at school called me her chamchi which is slang for someone who walks in another person's shadow. i kept telling myself that it didn't matter. that she was my best friend. and i guess she was. but i wasn't hers.

it hasn't been too long now. i don't know what happened but we don't even nod or acknowledge each other in the hallway. she stopped looking my way and so i stopped looking hers. we each had our own friend group now-but i guess you could call hers a horde of followers. someone started this rumor a year or two ago that we apparently hated each other. she never addressed them but played on instead. we havent spoken a word to each other in two years. i do realize now how she was using me-my dad owns a country club and that's where we'd always hand out but now i get that she was only there to take cute pictures, for the club and not me.

so yeah. it was no explanations, no talking, no reason or apology. we just stopped talking, stopped looking at each other. but she still watches my stories all the way through and i do the same with hers. she still likes my pictures and i like hers too. i commented happy birthday on her birthday pic and she dm'd me when it was mine. but that was it.

i dont know how she feels about us, i guess i never will. part of me feels like its for the better, that im my own person now and not in her shadow but the other part misses our inside jokes.