#the 5th picture here is going to be my background the moment I find one of better quality

[sarcasticamaleont]

Everybody analysing everything that's happening with the main cast (as they should) and here I am loosing my goddam mind over the fuckinig BEARDED MAN.

WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU HERE? WHAT ALLIANCE DO YOU HAVE?

I don't know if I can trust him or not

When he was introduced at the beginning I thought he was just a pretty face but then, THEN he does this:

When Maddie is talking to Vi about what she did in Zaun. He even faked that he was snoring so he would not get caught listening.

So I though, mh, probably a noxian spy to check on Vi and Caitlyn. Not one we should trust. I mean I was unfortunately spoiled that Ambessa was behind the attack at the memorial so when I saw this:

I was like "AHA for sure you are working with them!" Right place, right time, with a shield non the less. (he did seem nice with what little we saw of him but I did not trust him because I thought he was a SPY)

But then,

BUT THEN,

Ambessa does her crazy stunt appointing Cait as a general and HE'S NOT HAPPY.

This is not the face of someone who knew what's going one:

or is happy about it:

and when Cait accepted the role HE LEFT

(forgive the poor quality I'm screenshoting from my pc)

LEFT, I SAY!

Why? Tell me for who do you work for!

He did not leave when Vi left so I guess she was not his priority but the moment Cait ascend to general he dips out.

Also why did they immediately put him on the squad? He literally deank in the street the whole night with Vi when they introduced him to us. What made them go "Ah yes, enforcer materials to go on a super important mission." Like WHY.

[brdpch]

{5} a game of cats, mice and hearts like ice

desktop: previous ✧ next mobile: previous ✧ next

synopsis: in the world of deadly games and their lives at risk, a very smart sociopath meets a very cunning stripper who claims his life as hers.

warnings: canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, sexual abuse, substance abuse, niragi, literally everything, you name it.

formatting: it's a glued-together dynamic roleplay between me and @bvrdel-mama, so the replies are separated by ♠♥♦♣, and the dialogues are written like — This. — yes, the symbols look horrible on mobile, we know.

statistics: 1,795 words 9,888 characters.

author's note: it's a mix of manga!chishiya with show!chishiya. also! what's worth noticing - in this rp there are dice involved. the mechanic is called a d20 mechanic, and it's based on dungeons and dragons 5th edition. we also use other dice rolls for other outcomes, so future events might surprise both me and my roleplaying partner. enjoy!

Shuntarō nodded at everything she said, ignoring the gunshots, unfazed. He didn't know if it showed but he was very impressed by her quick thinking and ability to work under the pressure of time and looming death. He was right - the sweet, stupidish performance she put on hid a wolf underneath, just really similar to his blank emotionless one which hid a cold, calculating predator. He thought really hard about the flaws in her analysis of their situation but much to his disappointment he couldn't find any. The know-it-all tone wasn't lost on him as well, although he chose to ignore it just like the gunshots and screams of the panicked people below. She was dangerously intelligent, that could be a problem later on, one that didn't simply involve her questioning his intelligence in an elaborate way.

Shuntarō met her gaze now, still leaning over the balcony, putting his chin upwards.

— I have no idea, but I'm positive you will now enlighten me.  — he lowered his voice and uttered dryly.

He was following the horse-head on the opposite side from him, watching his movement and noting the floors which were targeted by his bullets. They must know where the room they're looking for is - it's a matter of noting down where their feet took them and where their sight and bullets go. She thought of the playing field well, let's see if she can come up with a solution to this game as fast as he can.

♠♥♦♣

She had to be used to the gunshots, but not because of visiting the shooting range or playing paintball; she was used to the real thing used in actual gunfights. She also had to witness death at some point, because she seemed unfazed by the dead bodies, screams and blood.

Another scream interrupted their conversation, followed by a rain of bullets, and then a pause. Something was dropped, Unmei was sure it was an empty magazine - she saw it from across the balcony. The tagger was reloading.

— Rupert Sheldrake, scientist, actually - currently biologist, — she spoke quietly, turning off the recording. — Theorized about atoms, which was actually proven a few years ago, have weight, but in this weight they carry widely understood knowledge. The atoms „communicate” with each other by the use of a morphogenetic field - which is, for us, the apartment complex. One thousand people were experimented on in the United Kingdom, answering a question about what's on two paintings. On one of them, there was a dog; on the other one - a woman in a hat, but here's the catch - these pictures looked similar to Rorschach test ones. — Unmei paused for a moment. — You know, those dark splotches on light background which are used in the psychiatric field. Anyway, back to the point - 3.9% of surveyed could recognize a dog, and 9.2% surveyed could recognize the lady. Next time they conducted the experiment they got much better results - about 10% rate with the dog, and 20% rate with the lady. It could possibly mean that this knowledge was already „discovered” and then „stored”, or rather „kept” in the morphogenetic field, transferred later on by more surveyed subjects. If there is someone who knows where the safe zone is, it's the tagger, and their knowledge - in theory - is stored in the atoms around us

Unmei waited a little bit for Chishiya to catch up to her with his thinking.

— Nonetheless, I don't really believe in this version of the theory. But if the tagger knows where the safe zone is, he'll reveal it to us sooner or later by protecting the right door. When the players are in enough distance, then he'll start actually chasing them. — she paused again. — There was no player limit, so they have to carry enough ammo and weapons for not only a few, but maybe even tens of people, meaning we cannot take them one-by-one. Have you already counted their magazine capacity? Tagger keeps going around the middle floors, so one of these doors could be the solution. Let's say that this apartment complex has one hundred flats, and there are fourteen of players - seven doors for each player to check, if we assume all of us are alive and we'll keep checking them efficiently, one by one. it's impossible to do in twenty, — she checked her phone. — Ten minutes.

♠♥♦♣

Unmei could deduce earlier that Shuntarō was a man of few words, who preferred acting from speaking. It was the case even now. Chishiya partly observed the tagger wandering around the lower levels, but partly listened to Unmei's words. It didn't seem like the massacre surrounding them was a problem to Shuntarō, quite the opposite - at times a dark smile would appear on his face when the echoes of players choking on their own blood reached their ears.

— It's good that you added that you don't believe in that theory. It sounds as probable as building your life on horoscopes. — he answered dryly, scanning Unmei from head to toe.

Shuntarō shook his head and then a focused look appeared on his face. He agreed with the part where Unmei mentioned that the tagger will lead them to the goal of the game.

— A standard machine pistol has either twenty-five or thirty-two bullets in its magazine. I assume the second option is more proba- — Shuntarō was cut off by a rain of bullets directed at someone on the other side of the complex. The tagger emptied out the whole magazine.

— Thirty two. — he said quickly, leaning over the balcony to check where the bullets go. Why would someone shoot from such a distance? From a weapon which loses its effectiveness the further it is from the target? They would shoot if someone is close to the right room - Chishiya answered his own question. 

After a second he pulled out the phone and opened the camera app, zooming on the walls of the opposite floors. Analyzing the angle in which the bullets entered the room is on the...

♠♥♦♣

— Do I believe in the experiment? Not necessarily. But I do believe in the theory itself. — said Unmei, leaning over the balcony. The girl with the short dark brown hair has just climbed over the railing to the upper floor, a salvo of bullets behind her, moments before she begged an older lady to change the floors with her.

— Morphogenetic fields are confirmed to exist by science. Besides, you're a Scorpio.

Blue ducked behind the half-wall, covering his ears in panic. Shaggy, despite the stern 'no' he heard from Hawaii, rushed to help Blue. Unmei tilted her head, paying close attention to them. Chishiya and her both answered the question about the safe room at the same time. Getting there was the problem.

— Hey everyone! — shouted Shaggy, revealing himself for a second. — Let's tell each other where the tagger is! We will find the safe room together!

♠♥♦♣

Shuntarō furrowed his brows and shot an irritated glance towards Unmei - then his gaze snapped to the girl that was prepping for a run in the lobby. Looks like it wasn't a run, but rather a quick climb around the complex. She was hanging from one of the balconies now.

— Ideal moment for discussing scientific theories. — he said ducking back behind the balcony, when a salvo of bullets flew their way.

Chishiya's eyes wandered towards the lower levels where the two young men were running about, and soon one of them spoke inviting all of the participants to work together. And he was right, there was no way Chishiya and Unemi could clear the game by themselves in the time which was left.

— Second floor, northern corner! — Chishiya shouted leaning over the balcony just to be greeted by 9mm bullets again.

♠♥♦♣

Unmei hid behind the wall, her head low, almost between her knees, as she squatted. She didn't come out when Shuntarō decided to get a look at the tagger yet again, only to hear him shout. She quickly put her hands on his head, pushing it down, pulling on his hair. It worked best, she knew it really well from her own experience.

Unmei held him like this for a second, their foreheads touching - she had to use her body weight to make sure he ducks on time, before a bullet makes its way into his skull. She held him in place for a few more seconds, not letting go, as to make sure he's not gonna get up.

— As I said, — she hissed, her voice barely audible from gunshots. — Don't get in my way. What do you think you're doing?

Her once ice-cold eyes were now ablaze, burning their way through Chishiya right into his non-existent soul. It was a scream-whisper, and as she let go, she started moving, her body as low as possible, knees on the rugged concrete. That'll leave bruises, for sure.

five minutes remaining.

— We'll take care of the tagger! — shouted Beach member number one, and as Unmei took a quick look around her surroundings, Hawaii responded. — You guys find the safe zone!

♠♥♦♣

Shuntarō laughed maybe a bit too loudly when his hair got snatched and pulled down by Unmei, then for their foreheads to touch - the woman not letting go of the clump of strands she clinged to, hissed at him through clenched teeth while Chishiya was still laughing in her face - literally.

— Mind the hair. — Shuntarō said through his giggling, then his demeanor changed drastically, his eyes became emotionless and a twisted grin appeared on his face.

— You are very annoying, you know? If you want me out of your way, sure. How about we bump up the difficulty level then?

He leaned over the balcony again and shouted to get the horse-head's attention, then got up and sprinted to the elevator, barely ducking through a barrage of 9mm bullets leaving marks in the wall behind him. His pulse was up, he was ecstatic, he finally felt something - anger, passion, the thrill of life. He had five minutes, the shout should give him at least a few seconds before the horse-head appears on the highest floor. He took Unmei's shoe that was stuck in the door - clicked the floor he last saw the horseman on and exited the elevator.

He then turned to Unmei and waved at her.

— Have fun! — he shout-whispered to the girl before turning around and sprinting down the staircase to the 4th floor.

[papairaart]

Ren’Py Tricks: Textbox Options/Text Speed Preview (Mock Textbox)

I originally posted this on my Wordpress blog, but I figured I'd share it on Tumblr as well.

Update June 5th 2022: A solution to the issue with having to hide the mock text screen repeatedly has been found, thanks to KigyoDev!

A few years ago, I joined up with 4noki to help create Who Is the Red Queen? for the Spooktober Jam 2021 competition. While I was not the main programmer (that was Justinn!), I assisted with some little things here and there—one of which was the spur-of-the-moment creation of a textbox preview, pictured above.

This is an incredibly useful addition to an options screen. It allows the player to immediately look at their changes to the speed of the text and other such textbox display settings without having to undergo a pattern of trial-and-error where they keep opening and closing the settings screen just to check. Within this post I am providing only the code and a brief explanation on how to install it, as I do not have the time to make a whole tutorial post at the moment. I simply wanted everyone to finally have access to this after I had been sitting on it for months.

Also, if you’re going to be adding a textbox opacity setting to your game, I highly recommend also including an opacity slider on your quick menu to further reduce this trial-and-error pattern! It’s very useful for the player to simply adjust the transparency on a case-by-case basis—I personally find myself adjusting transparency a lot in any VN where there’s a slider on the quick menu for various reasons, such as being able to see a CG better or making the text more readable on a busier background.

Please keep in mind that I created this for a jam project. There was a limited amount of time I allotted to myself to figure this out before I had to move on, so this method isn’t exactly the most refined method out there. If someone else figures out a neater way to do some of this, I’ll let everyone know in this post.

Mock Textbox Code

This is a separate screen. You can copy and paste this anywhere in your screens.rpy, but I recommend putting it underneath the preferences screen. If you’d like, you can also make a new .rpy file and save this code in there to keep it all nice and neat.

Link to Pastebin with relevant code, since Tumblr doesn't have a code block functionality.

Hiding Mock Sample Text

(Issue solved by KigyoDev): In order to ensure that the sample text is hidden when you navigate to other screens, add the following code to the top of your game menu screen:

Link to Pastebin with code, since Tumblr doesn't have a code block functionality.

CAVEAT: If your options screen is split up into separate tabs using the SetScreenVariable() method, you must still add Hide("mock_text") to the action list of the buttons that switch tabs. (Tip: you can have a button perform multiple actions by putting the actions in a list between square brackets [], like this: [SetScreenVariable("audio"), Hide("mock_text")])

Installation

Paste mock textbox code somewhere.

Use the mock textbox with the code use testbox somewhere in your Preferences screen. In Who Is The Red Queen?, use testbox was placed inside a fixed with a precise position.

Style and move around and futz with as you need.

Add in the code that ensures the sample text will be hidden when screens are switched.

Mock Textbox will now show up in your screen!

If you found this useful, please do buy me a Ko-fi!

[camilieroart]

COLORCODED TMNT AU RANT (with no edits) PART 3

COLORCODED MASTERPOST

COLORCODED UNEDITED RANT 1

COLORCODED UNEDITED RANT 2

I'd recommend checking these out before reading this :)

Mikey has a shit ton of nicknames : Mikey, Mike, Mikey Mike (separate from the two first), Mikester, Painty, Sticker boi, Angel, Angelo Raph doesn't have much, just the occasional : Anger machine, Pointy, Phael, Pha. Meets is Meets, they did try one : Meaty. It did not stick. Leo is : General, Chief, Flake (snowflake that was shorten), Sensei (mocking), Boss, Braincell boy (when he's alone with mikey), Narnar, Nardo. Donnie is : Techy, Natello, Tel, Tello, Explosion man, Disaster boy, problem, Don, D April is : Neil, Champ, Winwin, Fluff. Casey doesn't have any yet, he's too recent, but they do throw some around from time to time : JJ, Deok-Su (not really a nickname jgirejger), Edgy Boy, Emo, Splits, Case. Splinter : Dad, Daddyo, Papa, Oto-san, Splinty (only from April), Mr. Splinter sir, Yoshi

So season 1 is all about the Kraang's menace, with a sideline of Shredder but not much, just enough to distract them a little from the Kraangs before they wipe out the city Now Season 1 also has to introduce the mutanimals, metalhead (maybe same episode ?), April gets a gun and a role in the team (could get coupled with a b plot), Karai becomes Shredder (over several episodes) and some daily life eps and fillers because MY GOD do I miss some good fillers in nowadays shows sometimes Like yes !!! I love plot !!! But please let me breathe a little S1 ep 1 would be the pilot, idk if 20 or 40 minutes long, probably in between these two, since it has to introduce : the turtle family, April, Casey, their relationships (should be done in tje first few minutes for april and turtle family), the kraang threat, and the entire "let's sneak out and beat down a random thief that will happen to be casey" While maybe setting up in tje background some of the future eps Like let's push as much foreshadowing in the first ep as possible so it ties back nicely to the rest of the show

2nd ep I would feel like should be about the turtles figuring out how to move around, maybe beat down some people and learn how to use their new environment while discovering the city. Could have a b plot of Casey actually formally meeting them. 3rd ep they discover the kraang menace during patrol, and instead of being all like "mmmh =-= what's going here... Sound sketchy znd weird let's learn as much as possible", freak out and retreat to the lair and just panic explains everything to Splinter, Casey and April. They don't believe them. #2012 mikey moment but with the whole team. The ep would go the turtles proving what they saw, Casey becoming part of the patrol team and Donnie getting his hands on some kraang tech (not much), setting up the soon to be metalhead ep 4th ep they investigate more what the fuck are the weird alien thingies doing. They infiltrate one of their base and find out absolutely nothing because none of the aliens speak english. So nothing is written in english. They do take a shit ton of pictures in hope to decipher it later. B plot, while team A is infiltrating the base, Team B is on lookout and they run into Baxter Stockman. That's when Buckle is born and also they find out what the hell the green thing was.

5th ep, in the background Donnie has just finished making Shelldon and presents him to the team. He doesn't mention it but we can see him making meets. It's a chill ep, just some family shenanigans with the pets. Casey meets Buckle. Raph and Leo want to try to make Shelldon a battle drone while Donnie and Mikey are very much against it. April and Splinter are looking for Ice cream kitty that disappeared and they're trying to hide it from mikey. 6th ep, the trio Donnie, Casey and April get some development, again a chill ep, smth like either everyone else got sick and they're looking for a cure or uhhh casey busted some of Metalhead's compunds and is trying to help Donnie get them back and April tags along, or donnie is missing pieces to continue Meets and Casey and April take him in the city to find some pieces... Smth along these 7th ep, Mikey is the one that finally figured out how to read the kraang's writing. I don't know how yet but he did. They find out about their obsession with imagination, and their plan to get it with the mutagene (which failed) and their brand new plan to directly extract it from people but whoops it kills them (work in progress). They're like "well wow that massively suck and it's on a huge scale how about we don't try doing this by ourselves" znd they try to warn the human authorities. Humans being humans, they don't believe them but now knows about their existence (which well they kinda did before because of rumors but now they know 100% (since in the colorcoded universe people knows actually mutants are a thing, and there are people that arz pro-mutants and people that are against mutants))

8th ep they play it low and stay in the lair instead of going on patrol, nice filler ep just fluffy family time, b plot we meet the mutanimals.

9th ep, Metalhead ep ! It's them !!! It's the boi (genderless) !!!! So Donnie presents them to his brothers, saying it's an IA blah blah blah, then they watch a movie where it's like "ooooooh evil IA they all realize humans sucks actually and kills them all" which makes them uncomfortable with Metalhead (who is not on), cue the "let's deactivate them" Meets yeeting thz fuck out to the mutanimals and the turtles meeting thz mutanimals and adopting meets

no actually when Leo lose his braincells, Meets is the second Leo guihgeru it's one of the thing about his brothers Donnie coded in the original program before the IA evolved

meets as soon as Leo is alone with Mikey : My time has come

i also want to slip in bonus shorts like 10 minutes long, of family shenanigans in the present and when they were young, including April and Casey as kids

like there's this part where you know how they aren't allowed to go too far in the lair ?

At some point when they were 10~11, they went anyway like "i ain't scared ):<" and then they kinda convinced themselves the place was haunted and never went back and when as teens casey asks about it they're like "bro no this place is haunted D:" i feel like it could be a fun ep ghioregheuri just 10 mins short, maybe an halloween special

Casey: "have you ever come back there since then?" Them: "lol no that place is scary af"

casey : "you. are fighting aliens like. every day" Them : "yeah but you don't get it this place is haunted"

it's it's a halloween special there would probably need to be a sort of threat, even if it's just their imagination, what did they think they saw? Fdhdf

i'm not sure yet but imagine it was just splinter messing with them to make sure they never go back he saw them preparing to sneak and go in and he followed them and scared them

it would be easy for a master ninja

maybe it could also JUST be them getting spooked it's easy to get spooked when you're 10, in a place dark you don't know a bit abandonned

THEY JUST GET REALLY SCARED AND DECIDE "AH HELL NAH"

i'm thinking April would be with them or go a bit after them (so like when they were young), going "yeah well I'm not scared >:)" but she'd be all alone in a dark place abandonned with rumors of it being haunted and Splinter wouldn't even intervene

but if casey had to go, first he'd be much older than they were, since they're 16, the others would still refuse to go, and Splinter would be like "welp i guess the secret is up now" but Casey would go in, alone with the lamp and come out like 10 minutes later screaming for his life because turns out the place is actually haunted

Meets, who's room is the closest to the not-allowed part : sweats intensifies

They're also a teen and they just learned this is in fact haunted and they are not one to dispute their brothers words "you say it's haunted ? that's factually impossible however every metal bones in my body trusts you and now i'm scared"

In the 10th ep, April finally learns about the Kraang's plan (which they kept from her), and HEAVILY insists to help them. They're hesitant about it but Leo straight up refuses, and she gets upset. Later during patrol with jis bros and Casey they talk about it and they're like "mate you should give her a chance, you gave Casey a chance and look at him now" and Leo is like ): but what if she gets hurt,,, she can't fight ! April (who had been following them without them noticing (which is already a proof she's skilled)) is like ):< well i'm gonna show him. They run into the Kraang and start a battle and April sees it as a chance to prove herself. She tries to sneak and grab one of the Kraang's gun but gets spotted and saved by Leo who gives her a VERY dirty look before finishing the battle. Once it's done he stomps over and they get into a yelling match (yey), until April convinces him to give her a real chance, using the skills she has (namely, a good shooter since when she was very little and her parents were still together, her mom wanted her to be able to fend for herself and she was given daily lesson for around 8 years. She only recently had to stop). She succeeds the test and Leo, still very not happy about it, "accepts" her in the team. After that we see his opinion improves about her position in the team during the episodes, as a background thing. She gets her own donnie made gun in the beginning of the next ep, too :)

Ep 11, chill ep, maybe a special for a holiday or smth, just a breather ajdcjzvd Ep 12, introduction of the Foot as a problem (until then there were some bits and pieces of Karai's and Saki's story here and there). The kids find Saki's corpse on patrol and recognizes him from Splinter's pictures and bring him back home. Yada yada grief, he gets a tomb, they realized something bad happened and investigate the Foot. Donnie and Raph are against distracting themselves from the KRAANG, but the other disagrees. Donnie and Raph don't go in the first place but then have tp rescue the others that got captured (and got a bunch of infos with it). They learn that the Foot went bad, and that there's a new leader the "Shredder". They learn they plan on dominating the city and invade bits by bits the world so the Foot rules over everything, as it should. Donnie and Raph acknowledges it's a problem and agrees to help as long as their main priority is the Kraangs (modifié) Ep 13, chill ep, Mikey centered with a b plot involving Meets introducing the turtle family to their sign language because they had grown tired of writing in a notebook.

when meets officially becomes part of the family, there's an awkward amount of time where he doesn't know what to say instead of "my sons" cue a lot of laughters from his kids when he calls them "my spawns" "my kins" "my beloveds" "my children" etc He ends up settling on "my turtles" Meets really hates being reminded THEY'RE a bot so even Splinter calls THEM Meets even tho he calls his other kids their full names

do you think Meets ever asks Donnie for upgrades ?

Well there is some moments where they do but usually they're content with what they have It's like, they ask when it's smth that will help them (silent flying thing to be discreet), not just going up to him like "eyyy upgrade my dude ?"

I feel like Mikey would try to get them to get more cool upgrades zgdvf, he'd be like "dude, you should ask Donnie for super fast rocket boosters, or an ice cream machine, heck yea, that'd be awesome!" xD

Oh he probably would XD Meets would just politely say no tho fhzvdjzcdh If Leo was the robot one, however, he'd probably end up with a shit ton of useless upgrades until donnie goes "okay that's enough"

Because Mikey and Leo together have 1 braincell

Mikey: "DONNIE! CAN YOU GIVE MEETS A GIANT ANIME SWORD?" Meets, signing: 'please no' Donnie: "what the fuck Mikey."

LMFAO I had forgotten this whole aroace mikey bit where he runs away from potential love interests

Mikey: "my handsomeness is both a blessing and a cruse"

"i'm handsome" UwU "you ARE handsome" fear

"i'm handsome but just for me. it is my handsome. don't touch"

absolutely LOVING how Joo-Hyun does the most BUCKWILD SHIT and then when asked how she just winks and goes "the power of magic" that is SO fucking funny to me Joo-Hyun : is loaded Joo-Hyun : has retrieved all contacts in a new phone without even knowing the people Joo-Hyun : "the power of magic ;)"

the power of hacking people's phones

the power of magic ? Yeah no i'm just really into illegal stuff why am i loaded ? i robbed a bank

Imagine she just has some random talents and says it's magic but also knows magic and you never know which one's which

i think i'm gonna make that canon actually. she's magic-y but she's also a criminal

"criminal" in the society's way i mean. she's super nice.

i could use that "criminal" thing to like criticize the rich and this kind of things. like she's didn't rob a bank, she robbed the super rich.

Casey: "damn, I have a wicked aunt :)"

casey the gun in the making

Donnie: "I will literally shoot you with this gun if you don't stop annoying me" April: "lol you wouldn't do that, you like me too much uvu" Donnie: "Don't fuckin test me"

Meets wardrobe : a bowtie

Mikey is soft/cute boy aesthetic, Raph is tough boy, Leo is slut aesthetic (he is not)/japanese inspired. These two are not in relation to eachothers, Donnie is techwear, Casey is Emo/Goth boy, April is Girl ™️

like don't put donnie in red but you can put any of the bois in green

omg they could literally be greenscreens

put them in front of a green screen they're invisible

Mikey: "GUYS LOOK I CAN MAKE MYSELF INVISIBLE ON CAMERA LMAO"

does Donnie have more than one pair of glasses?

yeah, but he usually wear the square one, he modified them the most heirohjtir like to zoom or so other things

lmaooo I imagine Mikey would sometimes take the gasses when Donnie's not using them and mess around with them he probably broke soem yea

Leo be like "I look better than you and I know it"

mikey be like : hehe fun clothes leo be like : haha i'm hotter than you

All the dresses are dresses Meets gave as a present for Christmas

meets looking at leo's casual ouftits "boi i know what i'm getting ya"

does Meets have money did they shoplift the dresses vhfbdh

meets has extensible arms they shoplift

Meets: happily giving the dresses everyone: "wait where did you get those"

bold of you to assume they don't all shoplift

maybe they would but imagine it was the first time Meets has ever stole anything and they're all like "wow, didn't think they had it in them to do that (impressed)"

baby’s first crime

Donnie would play Dnd if he could zvdge

oh absolutely sadly his family isn't interested

I NEED TO GIVE DONNIE AND LEO MATCHING TANAKO NO ICHI SHIRTS RGBUIEHBUE

They gave one to Mikey but he refuses to wear it

Mikey: "wow Meets, how did you find dresses that matches our aesthetics so perfectly?" Meets, who has gone through hundreds of different clothing stores to find them: [maaaaagic! :)]

Meets who hasn't been around for a while before gifting : :)

"oh so that's why you disappeared for so long"

Meets who broke the 4th wall to draw the dresses themself : :)

Meets who asked the writer to write them conveniently finding the perfect dresses despite it not being logical at all in canon: :)

(raph’s dress ) hot take : the dress looked like that at first, but meets added the embroideries (he learned from mikey)

most people look very "professional" in suits but I think they would very much not look professional efdjhbfd colorcoded Leo: "time to look SEXY AF"

(surprisingly they all turned out great)

i love it when like there's clothes in other languages that are like "wow super cool and neat" but actually the words are really stupid like water water sock grandma

i'm going to give mikey a shirt that's like really basic, just it says BUTT in giant letters in japanese

the boys at night going shoplifting and seeing this shirt : "LMFAO WHO'S GETTING IT"

Mikey: "I CALL DIBS ON THAT SHIRT"

Leo: "oh this is terrible I love it"

the boys everytime they come across a stupid japanese shirt : haha YES

the shirt wasn't orange it was like, idk red or something but Mikey wanted it so bad he recolored it to fit his color sceme dhdfbdf

Splinter : "you must learn to share Michelangelo" Mikey : "NEVER" dips the shirt in orange dye

Splinter, with a straight face: "Michelangelo, next time you find a butt shirt, you will have to give it to one of your brothers."

This is Donnie. Donnie has 2 hyper complicated futuristic ouftits in his wardrobe and the rest is normal. Be like Donnie.

do you think they'd try to go to a convention in cosplay disguises like the rise turtles efhdbfh

Leo and Donnie dragging Mikey to a Tanako no Ichi convention

Mikey, actually having fun at the convention but doesn't want to admit it: "this is terrible. I hate all of this. I should have stayed at home."

magical girls but it's the gender that's magical

sometimes i think about how conservative and traditional Yoshi used to be and then I look at his sons and i'm like "damn."

Raph: "s k u l l s h i r t >:)" Casey: "w i c k e d"

imagine Mikey asking people to put stickers on his shell because he can't to it himself zdgfvg Mikey: "HEY DONNIE! I got new stickers, can you put them on my shell :D?" Donnie: "AGAIN?? At how many stickers will you stop??" Mikey: "I will never stop."

Tanako no ichi

Mikey: "I still don't get this show. Why are they letting a bunch of kids save the world???" Leo: "Mikey, we've saved the world before." Mikey: "THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

Mikey: "we're ninjas, we can fight!" Donnie: "and they have magical powers, what's your point"

are you gonna make up any parallels/foreshadowing with the turtles' story like they did in the 2012 show ?

Yeah

Tanako no Ichi: has a world ending plot scenario Leo: "man, I sure hope that never happens here lmao" Donnie: "don't jinx us please"

and then it happens

imagine Casey's alter ego dies on screen (foreshadow his dad dies saving him) and they all turn to him and then collectively decide to stop watching for now

Casey: "Aw, that was my favorite character, how could they do that :'((??" Donnie: "I always thought they looked a lot like you, It's almost like this character was a reflection of you as a person and this was a sort of prophetic warning lmao" Casey: Casey: "How about we never watch this show again"

Donnie after Mikey asks if it's a reboot : "Well Mikey, since you asked so nicely, I will tell you that if presented as a reboot, it is not ! In fact, while keeping the same story and continuing the plot of the previous 12 seasons, they changed the designs that were very flawed and had numerous problems of cohesion. Take... uh butterfly girl. Her hair grew longer and thicker during the transformation sequence even tho none of the other characters had that ! Her Butterfly motif looked more like a ribbon and caused confusion, and a lot of people complained about "sexualized" design because of her bare legs but short skirt (even tho it was part of her character). There was also a story of plagiarism, that was debunked since then, but did participate in the redesign. Plus, the overall team cohesion was really bad, none of their ouftit even slightly mirorred eachothers. How did they fix it you ask ? Well, they gave to the team several similar points, especially with their motifs. Look at the 6 button middle, they all have it, with their motifs on the side ! There's a little mark on their cheeks, and-" Mikey : "put me out of my misery"

Mikey: "PLEASE NO MORE LORE"

Donnie : "Well actually that's not lore, it's just behind hte scenes informations that you asked for. However" pulls out a huge book Donnie : "If you want lore, Leo and I have been keeping track of everything and-"

Mikey: "NOOOOOOO-"

Donnie has buck teeth:)

sasuka exists purely so I can put merch on several turtles without messing up the colorcode. however I am sure i can figure out a proper reason for their colorcode XD

Absolute revelation : WHAT IF I colorcoded Sasuka WHITE with green accent so the betrayal of her mom being the villain mirrored the betrayal of Oroku Saki (colorcoded white with red accents) when Karai stabbed him

I feel like this show is looking too much like a show Mikey would actually like fdhdhbf needs to have a really nonsensical story efvdhbf

not if it doesn't make any sense i mean don't worry in 30 seasons you have time to fuck up

Mikey thinks the visuals are great ! The characters are great ! But what the fuck is going on tho it just annoys him more than makes him hate it he just likes a well-built story

Mikey: "aesthetically? cool. what the fuck is going on tho"

he can sits through an ep, but through a season ? too many incoherence and characters getting OOC, too many plot points gets lost and characters arc butchered it is a cool show ! that's why most of his family likes it. you just have to make abstraction of the huge storyline flaws

Leo: "if you ignore the entire plot, it's a good show" Mikey: "are you even hearing yourself right now"

in level of stupidness, it presented the Shopkeeper as Sasuka's mom in the end of season 12 (they already had the redesign then), but then in season 20 they said the Shopkeeper was actually Sasuka that travelled back in time to beat up her team for some stupid reason

and it's like "yeah ! cool ! CHOOSE 1 THO" Mikey's favourite show is an on-going action romance show with a really well constructed story called "On the Devil's shoulder" he keeps trying to make his family watch it but they find it boring to death

Donnie: "I have a list of all the canon events that happened in this show right here." he points at a journal the size of a dictionary, "and in here I have a list of more events that directly contradicts the events of this first list" he points at another journal that somehow looks bigger than the first one

it's bigger because they contradict the same plot point several time

SO in Colorcoded each season would be year, and the ending of season 1 would finish most of the short arcs started there, like April's dad learn that they are a danger magnet, and the Kraangs winning happens on the anniversary of when they first got out of the lair. Like a bittersweet reminder. So in the end of season 1, New York is definitely destroyed (renamed Old York), and a lot of people runs away. April's dad cut all relations with the turtles, and she's dragged away to Canada, while Casey and Hye-jin are being put in foster care in Philadelphia, waiting for their mom to take them back (she's all they have left... or is she ). The turtles and Splinter returns to Japan to the remaining Hamato Clan (the Foot clan and Shredder does the same), and everyone is severely traumatized.

yea but like, what does imagination give the Krang? why wouldn't they give up after such a huge disaster? Is it really that worth it? Do they have a way to know if someone humans/mutants have more imagination than others? (cause if that's the case, I'd imagine Mikey would be an easy target since he's is pretty creative)

cause like, imagination is just basically the ability to make a mental image of something you have or haven't seen/felt/experienced, do they really need that? how come the Utroms and Kraang don't have that actually? If by imagination you mean the ability to have be able to "see" things in your head (mind's eye), then well, some irl people don't have that, it's not that uncommon, but it's really not worth all this effort to get. If by imagination you mean creativity, (hehe, kinda like the Lego Movie plot) then "imagination" probably wouldn't be the right word what's your definition of imagination here, cause it's a bit confusing why the Kraang would want it dfhdfdf (and surprising that they don't already have it, depending on the definition)

I thought they didn't care about what happened to the humans? why would they want to stop them? Even with a few new human memories, would that change their morals?

Imagination is the ability to create things that aren't real nor possible in one's head. Imagination is an ability that only the humans possesses, and that was deemed interesting by the high-tech society of the Utroms to study. To study it they made a faction dedicated to it : the Kraangs. Over the course of their study they realized the potential of imagination for their specie (not to advance, they already can do that, but to create their own made-up stories, make themselves a culture much like the humans. They want that ability, to them it's like a superpower).

the things is that they don't get a few human memories, when they snatch the imagination they snatch the entirety of the human's memories, and feelings attached to them, essentially fusing the human with the Kraang. To the Kraang it's like they experienced all that the human experienced. If the human had a daughter, it was their daughter

so they have both their own memories and all the human's memories?

ya but like the human's memories is this super violent all of the sudden thing, it feels much more fresh and vibrant and important basically it gives them empathy

so like, in this, imagination is like a 'skill' you can give someone (like, one human's imagination = one Utrom/Krang being able to imagine) right? it's not like, a quantity or something

i mean "give" is a big word. They do kill the human in the process. It's an ability they steal. But yeah basically 1=1

so are some people's imagination better than some? I think that would make sense

i mean i guess it's an ability like anything else : if you train it it becomes stronger i guess children's imagination are better than adults in most cases

cause if so I'm pretty sure the Krang would probably try to find the best people to take imagination from like, they'd target artists and music composers, architects etc... (before they made the technodrome of course dfhdf, they wouldn't be picky anymore then since they'd just take it form the whole city)

mmh yeah true htey probably would i guess their research would be useful there oh myabe the way the turtles learn about the kraangs is because they capture mikey

i think they'd more likely have like a machine that pinpoints imagination like after years of research they probably made a scientific thingy that corresponds to imagination

does Splinter have pictures of them from when they were kids

I mean he has a shit ton of pictures of them at every age but most of them are extremely chaotics (nice non-chaotic non-blurry pictures are rare)

I think his favourite picture would be of when they were kids (not toddlers like 6/7) and Mikey had a "class" to teach his brothers to paint and it ended up as a paint fight and mikey would get really mad they didn't take it seriously and start crying and the picture would just be crying mikey and his brothers comforting him with poorly made paintings, the turtles and their surrouding covered in paint

very random question but do you think if colorcoded was ever made into a series/movie, would it be 2d or 3d animated?

i have already thought about it XDXD 2D all the way. I love 2D animation so much

I feel like 3d would be more adapted since the designs are pretty detailed but also 2d good,,,

i mean these designs were made with the thought that it would mostly be illustration based

if it had to be animated, the design would be simplified hgruihgeur

they probably have smoke bombs hgerhgire

Okay so you know how at the end of season 1 the turtles basically failed miserably to save NY ?

So i have yet to figure out season 2 but consider : they're being dragged in the mud and called out for it by [insert group of people here], and they're all traumatized and miserable Okay so what if at that point, Splinter never told them about his own failure as Yoshi Hamato And he finally tells them then

like they saw Splinter as an amazing flawless person and they get to see that he has failed too in the past,,

Okay so I keep thinking about it and WHAT IF During the entire NY catastrophe everyone got a good look at them/filmed them/took pictures so everyone knows about the 5 turtles that failed to save NY, and they get MASSIVE backlash from everywhere (internet, in the street, on the news... Meanwhile the governments are all pretending it's a hoax and mutants don't exists) So that doesn't help everyone's mental health, Splinter's story would help a bit but they'd still feel huge guilt from failing to save thz city. Then, amongst the hate, on internet a new # starts trending : #SavedByATurtle And it's like thousands of people saying that, yes, they failed to save the city, but if it weren't for the turtles they'd be dead. It starts on the internet and then it spreads (the news, books at some point), the idea that the turtles saved a SHIT TON of people. At some point a news channel does the math and announces they saved (at least) 3 million people with their different actions. Now yeah 3/19.5 is not ideal, but fuck that's 3 million people. (As time goes on the number keeps growing) Also at some point Steve vouches for them

Okay so I keep thinking about it but you know how in most of the TMNT it's always Leo/Raph relationship or arguing or whatever. I think in Colorcoded it'd be more Mikey/Raph.

Like I was thinking about several siblings interactions and I'm surprised that more often than not Mikey and Raph end up fighting For example, I was thinking of a Mikey/Donnie comic after the Leo/Raph one, where Donnie would feel like shit and Mikey would cheer him up before calling a brother meeting. Raph is bad at social interactions, even with his brothers he just has trouble figuring out what to say. So when Donnie is like "i'm worthless I know you'd give money for people to take me if you could". Raph answers with "If I were to sell you, don't worry, I'd sell Shelldon too so you won't be alone" Like he GENUINELY thinks it's the right thing to say there and he gets smacked by Mikey, anf they end up arguing

For another example, I was thinking after the Leo/Raph comic that maybe when Leo felt overwhelmed he'd give the lead to Raph (who doesn't want to lead, but will do so if it helps Leo, but only temporarily). So at some point he's leading and he accidentally put Donnie and Mikey in a lot of danger and when they return Mikey is furious and ask him "what the fuck were you thinking ?! You know Donnie and I's skills are lower than yours" "Yeah and ? Sounds like you need to train more often, not my problem." "It'll be your problem once you have our DEAD CORPSES ON YOUR HANDS" Then Leo would go "Mikey ! Stop !" Silence "You don't like how I do things ? Well what about you take the lead, Mikey ?" "I don't want to lead, I know my job I'm asking you to do yours !" "My job isn't to lead ! I'm not Leo !" Mikey looks at him up and down "Yeah I saw that." And then storms off

i'm genuinely surprised how much mikey's and raph's colorcoded character make them clash with eachothers like aight ngl did not expect that also Meets and Leo do argue a bit too. not as much as Mikey and Raph but they often have opposite views about what the team should do Donnie, who doesn't have enough self confidence to argue with anyone, stuck between 2 set of siblings arguing : )) :

Leo: "why can't everyone get along :,((("

donnie is just like "hh. hhhhh. time to stand there and wait awkwardly and hope it doesn't end up in bloodshed"

Aight so since i'm not sure i'll have time to draw it, I'm gonna lay out some Colorcoded comic plot I had in mind

So for Casey comic : Casey thanking Splinter for something (not shown) and he goes "Thank you Mister Splinter." "That's very polite Casey, but you can call me just Splinter." "Polite ? I'm not polite, Mister Splinter sir, polite is for the WEAK. I am super tough and strong and WHAT IS THAT" He proceeds to shriek and climb on top of Donnie "that's just Buckle Casey." "Buckle ????" "Yeah it's my little puppy pup. My good girl. Yes your are yessss you are" "HAVE YOU SEEN THAT JAW ??? AND WHERE ARE IT'S EYES ??? THIS IS A DEMON" "Casey may I know why out of everyone you decided to climb on me" "Obviously because you're taller" "Yeah, obviously mister tough strong guy"

Mikey/donnie comic : Mikey and Donnie are in mikey's workshop, and donnie is posing while Mikey is sketching a bunch of his head from different angle. "Yes I'm finally getting it !" "What's the point..." "Well I never capture you right in my family paintings you know ? It always bothered me but if I practice a lot, you'll finally look good !" "No, I mean what's the point of working this hard for me ? Just leave me out of the paintings..." "No can do D. It's a family picture not a family picture minus that one guy" "It's not like I'll be there for long..." Mikey pauses and looks up "What" "Come on Mikey. You all told me : you'd rather give money to get someone to take me than keep me here" "Donatello what are you talking about" "Earlier, when you guys were telling me how worthless I am. Clearly you don't want me around" "Donnie oh my god. We were joking. Did you really take it seriously ? We would never. None of us would. We love you so much, you're our baby brother. You're not worthless" "But I AM ! Everything I do is bad, I can never get anything right ! I'm always below average on everything. I'm a failure at everything. You guys are right." "That's not true ! You're an amazing scientist and healer ! You can do so many things" "No I can't ! The only reason I am healer is because I have common sense ! I'm no scientist I can't even weld something together without burning myself !"

Silence "I'll be right back don't move Don." Mikey runs to Raph's room and drags Leo and Raph back into his lab. "Donnie says he's worthless and that we want to sell him" Raph and leo in perfect harmony "what" "Because of the jokes we did earlier !" "Oh gosh Donnie I-I'm so sorry I didn't think you'd take it like that. You're amazing and we love you and we would never do that." Leo hugs Donnie znd keeps at least a hand on him until the end of the scene "Yeah, well don't worry Don, if we ever do sell you, we'll sell Shelldon with you so you're never alone" Raph gets smacked violently by Mikey while Leo goes "Raph ):< !" "HEY MIKEY ! What ??? What, what did I say wrong ??" Donnie looks devastated and about to have a breakdown "Raph apologize." "What, no ! And don't tell me what to do Michelangelo. I did nothing wrong" "Oh 'you did nothing wrong' ! What are you, stupid ?" Mikey and Raph start to argue in the back while Donnie shakes off Leo's hand and leave.

Later on, Donnie is captured by Baxter Stockman's mousers and he goes "To be captured that easily, this one must certainly be a burden to your team... Say, let's make a deal." Mikey, Raph and Leo are very on edge about to snap at any moment. "What deal" "Well, I'll take your friend there, and in exchange, I'll let you go and never bother you again. And you know what, I'll even throw in some money, what do you say, mh ? You are all quite the mutagene success and I've dreamed to dissect one of you. It's an excellent deal !" As he speaks we can see Donnie's face falling until he drops his head in defeat, like he knows they're going to say yes "What the fuck is wrong with you" "Yeah we're not selling our brother !" "You can take your stupid deal and shove it up where I think." They continue to berate Stockman (that looks very surprised), while Donnie is absolutely glowing in the back. After he's rescued he just leaps in and hugs his brothers tight with the biggest smile

Leo: cool leader Raph: angy fighter Mikey: artsy goofball Donnie: ANXIOUS GENIUS

Imagine Meets doing the windows shutting down sound zvgvdggf

they would just to annoy everyone fbhdf that would mean they can play any sound too imagine them blasting meme music or somthing when someone is being annoying

raph dropping his slice of pizza on hte wrong side Meets : "MMMH WHATCHA SAYYYY"

Raph: "Hey Meets can you stop playing music at random plea-" Meets: [NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN NEVER GONNA-] Mikey: Falls on his face during training Meet: [BADUM TSSSS]

Donnie : "wait so doesn't that mean you could talk using like radio or something ?" Meets : Meets : "beep boop"

while it doesn't really make sense that they can play these on themselves, WHAT IF, Casey or april or donnie found a bluetooth speaker and meets can just lock in and play whatever they want and they use it to prank

also now i think i accidentally coded colorcoded raph as autistic without realizing it

like -doesn't like hugs unless he iniates it -games. games is his life and how he deals with his burst of anger (his interest i guess then) -sensory issues well now if I do intentionally code him autistic ima have to do some research hugirger

about raph's possible autism I've also made him like super awkward socially with everyone new he meets until he gets to know them even a little bit and also tend to avoid people and go to pets and such and like idk nhgirejhugeruj maybe that's also accidental autism code idk

I guess so gherieugr I also don't like loud noises i can't control like for example when you go tap tap tap against your plate to make smth fall off your spoon it's very bad noise, makes me flinch and cover my ear

Meets is the baby sibling and they're using it to their advantage

leo and raph have an on going fight about who is the oldest

leo says he is the oldest and raph says he is the oldest what does Splinter have to sat about that fdvhdf does he not say anything cause he likes the drama

"ohhhhh well I forgot whoops" yeah basically

casey and april are in the same class casey had to retake a year at some point

COLORCODED TMNT MASTERPOST

[realcube]

randomly falling asleep with hq!! characters 💤

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you anon for this cute request!

characters: ushijima, tsukishima & yachi 

content warning: swearing, mentions of sexual assault 

thank you to anon for this cute request

wakatoshi ushijima

♡ he shows affection in his own...special way 😊

♡ by that, i mean that if you fall asleep while sitting next to him and he thinks you look cute, he’ll just stare (●__●)

♡ like deadass if he was anyone else, it’d be creepy as hell but he’s your bf so-

♡ he stares bc not only do you look precious, but he doesn’t want to touch you as he’s afraid that he might wake you up

♡ though, if you’re in public (like sitting next to him on the train) he might gently put his arm around your shoulders to make sure that onlookers know that you’re safe with him

♡ also, it only takes one time for him to catch on to your habit of disappearing and falling asleep in the most unconventional places and istg he is the BEST at guessing where you are - it’s a gift

♡ like he’ll arrive home and if you’re not there to immediately greet him with kisses, he’ll take a moment - let him boyfriend senses take over and walk him over to whatever room is giving him ✨(y/n) vibes✨, open the door and there is a 99% chance you are in that room sleeping 

♡ and he probably got it right first guess (which is a pretty big deal considering y’alls house resembles a sims fkn mansion made with motherload money)

♡ he’ll open the door to the storage cupboard to find you sleeping with the mr muscle spray and it’s such a shame bc he was going to be a clown and make a ‘why are you cheating on me?’ joke but you were in REM sleep 🙄

♡ or he’ll walk in to the conservatory and see you laying in the fetal position on the floor and that is the ONLY time he interferes with your sleep bc he doesn’t want you to fuck up your back 🥺

♡ like he has an obsession with your posture - like if you are slouched he will tell you to stand up straight or if you are sitting hunched in a chair, he’ll creep up behind you to start massaging your shoulders while fixing your posture 

♡ not to be rude though- just bc he cares

♡ also, he never questions how you end up falling asleep in the most random of places, he just goes with it 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

ushijima sighed as he hung up his jacket, realising that this was one of those days were you won’t come scurrying to the front door to greet him with kisses and instead he had to hunt through in search of you. although, it wasn’t much of a hunt considering his gut instinct said you’d be in the study room and there you were, cuddled up by the bookshelf. 

however, your back was hunched over in way that didn’t look to comfortable so ushijima thought it was his duty to transport you to somewhere that there was a lot more appropriate and fit for sleeping.

so he gently slipped one hand behind your back and the other under your knees to slowly pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom. is efforts may have been in vain though as he noticed one of your lids flutter open out of the corner of his eye, “good afternoon, sweetheart.” he hummed, steadily shifting his hand from your back to the back of your head to tenderly caress your cheek with his thumb as you cuddled into his chest. “are you awake?”

“No.” you groaned.

“Shame, I was going to suggest going out for walk on the beach--”

“I’m awake! Let’s go!” 

kei tsukishima 

♡ he probably calls you lazy but he’s really just jealous of how well you can sleep

♡ coz he just lays in bed till 4AM staring at the ceiling 

♡ i imagine that if you were to fall asleep next to him in a crowded, bustling place - like on a train - he’d take off his headphones and clasp them over your ears so the loud announcements don’t wake you up  

♡ he doesn’t fall asleep on transport btw (not even planes) so don’t worry about missing your stop 

♡ though he’s not usually a fan of PDA, he’ll hold your hand without a second thought to lead you out the train when you’re still recovery from the post-sleep haze because of course he doesn’t want to lose you in the crowds of people or anything

♡ and if you have a cute lil sleepy face then he might take a picture but he’d probably edit the picture with snapchat or something and draw like a moustache on you, put a sarcastic caption or something then send it to you 

♡ (but he’d save an unedited version of the pic bc you’re adorable-)

♡ like tsukki leaves you on delivered most of the time on snapchat bc he believes if you have something important to say, you’ll just message him normally but the rare occasion you do get a snap from him, don’t get your hopes up bc there is a 99% it’s just something like a picture of you with a drawn on crown and the caption ‘sleeping beauty 🙄’ 

♡ ‘so you think i’m a beauty 🥺’

♡ then he leaves you on read

♡ he will not carry you under any circumstances in public btw

♡ and at home, if you were to fall asleep on the couch next to him while y’all were watching a movie, there’s a 50/50 that’d he carry you to bed 

♡ but if he doesn’t take you to bed, he’ll set down a pillow for you on the couch and shift you around so you were laying in a more comfortable position, then drape a blanket over you 

♡ in regards to when he comes back from work, you’re usually already asleep in bed - but there is one time that you were not in the bedroom, and he still teases you for it until this day 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

most of the time, you’re sound asleep in bed by the time gets home but tonight you weren’t - in fact, you were no where to be seen. he had searched everywhere, called your phone multiple time and he looked at your schedule, but it appeared as though you were supposed to home right now - so hours, he was sitting fretfully on the couch, contemplating calling the police.

however, all his distressed pacing really worked up an appetite so he poked his head into the pantry to grab a snack but his soul almost left his body when he noticed you laying on the floor, fast asleep, with the cat curled up in your arms. who he didn’t even noticed was missing lol

usually, he wouldn’t even think of waking you up but the rage and shock that shot through his body resulted in him barking out, “what the fuck?! what are you doing here?! i’ve been looking all over this damn house for you and--”

he was cut off by the cat springing out of your arms from the surprising sharpness of his voice and scurrying off, leaving you confused on the floor on the pantry, half asleep, wondering how you got here and why tsukishima was yelling at you? “hm? what’s wrong, sweetie?” you hummed, rubbing your eyes while tilting your head up to look at his tall, slender figure looming over you in the doorway.

as much as tsukishima wanted to stay mad at you, upon noticing how cute your bedhead was along with how soft your voice was, he quickly realised that there was no way he could continue yelling you. so instead, he scoffed and slowly kneeled down to sit next to you on the floor, looking at you with kind yet concerned eyes as he inquired, “why were you sleeping in the pantry?”

it took you a moment to try and remember but once you did, you blurted out, “oh, berry was having trouble sleeping.” yes your cat is called berry. don’t question it. her full name is strawberry tsukishima shortcake. “so i cuddled with her in her favourite sleeping spot and she slept like a baby. but i guess i did too.” yo chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

tsukishima mentally cursed you out as he was expecting a silly explanation but shit that’s cute. why does he lowkey want to join y’all next time?

hitoka yachi

♡ gsrbtrhryh she gets so flustered and nervous when you fall asleep with her

♡ and she always does tbh bc she has no idea what to do 

♡ like she thinks you look so precious and angelic so she really wants to take a picture and - if she thinks you’d be okay with it - she clicks a photo and probably sets it as her background or posts it on her private story

♡ she is just so head over heels for you tbh that everything you do just astounds her 

♡ she just stares at you like ◉_◉ for half an hour bc you are so beautiful then something inside her just prompts her to lean in and just *mwah* and at first she is quite satisfied bc she has expressed her affection 

♡ but then a few seconds later her soul just leaves her body and guilt just washes over her 

♡  ‘OMG I JUST ASSULTED MY OWN S/O’

♡ she feels horrible 

♡ this close 👌 to calling the police on herself

♡ when you wake up, prepare to be bombarded with her apologies 

♡ once you reassure that it’d fine bc it was just a lil peck on the cheek and she is your girlfriend after all, it brings her the slightest peace of mind

♡ so you peck her cheek while she is asleep to call it evens and that basically fixes it 

♡ but anyway, she is so careful around you when you sleep - like she will literally do the most just to ensure that she doesn’t interrupt your REM sleep

♡ however, that can lead to extremely sticky situations - like the first time you ever fell asleep around her 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

You were on the 5th movie of your barbie movie marathon when she looked over and noticed you had fallen asleep half way through, so she immediately paused it so the noise wouldn’t wake you up. This was the first time she had ever seen you sleep and she felt somewhat flattered that you felt safe enough around her to be vulnerable - even though, yachi never really considered herself to be a rather daunting or intimidating person.

she couldn’t help but just sit and admire you for a few minutes before realising that she should probably transport you to somewhere more comfortable as you were currently sitting next to her on the pink beanbag in her room. and although  it was kinda comfy, the preferable alternative - her bed - was only a few feet away.

so she knew what she had to do.

she hopped to her feet and before she did anything too hasty, she stretched to ensure that she wouldn’t pull a muscle while doing what she was about to try. she inhaled deeply before crouching down - instead of bending over as she remembered what coach ukai had told her, ‘lift with your legs!’ - then snaking her arms under your torso and knees.

then, she sprung back up and immediately rushed over to the bed as even though you weren’t too heavy, she was afraid that if she held you for too long, you’d wake up. so once she reach the foot of her bed, she tossed you on so your neck was being supported by her soft pillow and yanked her duvet over you. 

she gazed lovingly down at your cozy figure laying on her bed and she couldn’t help but smile.

[harrysgloves]

Three’s Company (part 2)

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

>>>PART ONE<<<

Story Summary: You deal with your breakup.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language // Angst // Pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic // oh and you know smut!! YEAH bet you didn’t think you were getting makeup sex but oh you are. (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks)

Authors Note: I got carried away... but don’t we all when it comes to them? Anyways, feedback is always wanted and deeply loved. Hope you you guys like it!! xx

>>>

"Is this color too moody?" You asked your neighbors cat that was lounging in your living room.

The midnight black ball of fur lazily blinked open his eyes long enough to croak out a "meow" before going back to sleep. Your head nodded in agreement as your 5th beer bottle of the day pressed against your lips.

"No, you're right. It's allowed to be moody." You agreed with the very large, very old, cat who always wandered over to your apartment. His owner, Ms. Thompson, gladly let you babysit him for a few days after she came to your door to find him the first night. Your blood shot, tear filled eyes when you answered the door, fully gave away the fact you'd been crying for the last few hours. 

A bowl of Tupperware with hot chicken noodle soup laid on your doorstep the next morning along with the first gorgeous bouquet of flowers. 

It had been four days since your break up with Harry and Florence. Four days of sleepless nights, alcohol filled days, and meaningless activities to keep your mind off how you were feeling.

Four vases of flowers that you couldn't bring yourself to throw away sat on your cluttered counter. The delicate petals were starting to turn brown around the edges from your lack of care. The notes on each one seemed to glare at you everytime you walked to your fridge to grab another drink.

Each one a variation of, "I'm so sorry. -H"

"When we broke up it was for totally different reasons. I wanted to raise the kids Jewish; you wanted to sleep with men." Debra Messings' voice and the horrible laugh track of 'Will and Grace' filled your lonely apartment. Your comfort show played on repeat. The same jokes, the same voices, the same fucking void in your heart.

It'd be four days and you felt like you were a second away from losing mind.

And sure, maybe, you could have called them. You could have said you overreacted and that you messed up so badly. Instant regret hit you as soon as you had walked out his door.

You'd get over it, get over them but it didn't seem to be as easy as you originally thought.

Everything reminded you of them.

"Love this one." Harry said the last time he'd spend the night with you. Your favorite record played softly in the background when he placed the needle down on it.

"Oh, this is one of my favorite episodes!" Flor cheered as she ran out of your kitchen to the living room at the sound of a 'Friends' episode starting.

"Got yeh this when I was out today." Harry handed you a dumb pen holder. A small Julius Caesar that had pens jetting out of his back.

"Take this before you freeze." Florence mumbled as she moved your blanket slightly off Harry and towards you while you all cuddled in your bed.

Everything that reminded you of them had been boxed off, separated, put away somewhere else until you could look at it again. You were left in an almost barren house that no longer felt like a home, with a cat, that wasn't even yours, sleeping on your coffee table that was littered with empty beer bottles. All while you drunkenly painted your walls at 2 in the afternoon. 

How did shit get this bad?

The sound of a knock at your door called you out of your mind. An instant sinking feeling started in your chest as you walked across the floor. The wave of alcohol that ran through your system calmed some of the nerves but not all of them.

They wouldn't show up here, right?

You could feel the sweat starting on your hand as it rested on the doorknob. Another knock came from the other side of the door made you jump in your skin. 

"You haven't answered your phone in four days! Open up!" One of your brothers yelled from the hallway as his fist pounded on your door. You rolled your eyes as you stood there debating if you could avoid him. Your plan to stay as quiet as possible quickly went to shit. 

"Y/N, do not make me call dad." Your other brother, the one who's slightly fucking scary, voice boomed through your door like it wasn't even there.

You threw your door open to the absolute shit show that was your family. All four dumbass brothers stood outside of your apartment door. All four let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before walking into your very messy apartment.

"Jesus." Jason, the youngest, breathed out when the smell of alcohol hit him right in the face. His nose scrunched as his worried eyes flashed over the room.

"Did you drink an entire liquor store?" Tommy, the one you were closest to, asked as he scanned the damage done to your living room and what the hell you'd been doing to your liver the last four days. 

"Shut up." You mumbled as you sat down on the floor, the couch was deemed unusable by you until further notice. Way, way, too many memories on that dumb thing.

Raphael's lips pursed as he studied the new living room color. He didn't even bother to hide the fact he was judging your meltdown as he turned to you.

You two were the closest in age. You were only 6 months older, and were both adopted at the same time. It definitely didn't make getting along as children necessarily easy. The both of you butted heads so much the other 3 acted more like referees than siblings. Which is why the room seemed to shift dramatically as he turned to you.

"So, you stonewall your way out of a relationship and then ignore everyone who checks on you?"

"Here we fucking go." Jack, the middle child and probably the most sensible brother groaned as he sat down cross-legged on the floor. His head rested in his hand as he stroked Marshmallow's black fur.

"Hey! We said we weren't going to bring you if you started a fight." Tommy snapped right before Jason interrupted.

"He has a point, Tomás."

"Like you haven't had your heartbroken."

"She's the one in the wrong!"

"No she isn't!"

"You can't defend her forever. She has to own up to her shit."

You groaned, your head laid back as you listened to them argue about you, right in front of you. 

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with this.

"Get out." You said as you stood from your place on the floor, all eyes darted to you as you demanded for your own space. 

"Wait, what?" Tommy asked as the rest of them looked at you like you had magically grown three heads.

"I said, get out. I'm not listening to this. You guys want to fight, go to dad's." You opened your front door, held it wide open for all of them to filter out. Each one gave a sad or sympathetic smile as they left.

"Y/N, I think you should really give them anoth-" Jack tried to reason with you before you shut the front door, hard. The slam echoed through your now quiet apartment as you stood there yet again, alone. 

>>>

Your hooded eyes stared at the same spot on your ceiling. Your back rested on the cold hardwood floor of your wrecked living room. Your head swam with a fuzziness that only happens when you spend too many days on a bender.

You were fucked and your heart, your soul, hurt in a way you didn't think was possible. 

You could feel the prick of tears starting again in your eyes as your mind ran over everything. The good times, the bad, the moment you wished you could take back.

Why did you leave that damn house? You could have at least let him explain.

You sighed as you sat up. The uncomfortable feeling of the room spinning only got worse as you shifted forward to grab the drink you'd poured earlier. The glass pressed against your dried out lips as the same laugh reel ran in the background.

Was this your life now? You wondered as you sat on that cold floor of your apartment. You used to be okay with nights like these. You used to be fine being alone.

Now, the silence felt like a stab to the gut.

Your phone that laid on the table vibrated non-stop. The worried texts of people who loved you flooded your phone, you were worried about you too but you couldn't admit it.

Why did this hurt so bad?

Was it because you'd never experienced a loss like this before?

Or was it because deep down, shut away in the corner of your mind you dared to never go to, you knew exactly how you felt about them? And it scared the shit out of you.

You gulped down the rest of your drink. Not wanting to begin the vicious cycle of why you were so quick to give up on them. Why you were so determined to leave before any explanation could be given. 

Fucking hell, you needed therapy.

Your shaky legs walked over to the TV, turning off the reruns. Your glass placed on the edge of your coffee table as you made your way to your bathroom. A hot shower would always fix everything. 

The stream of warm water pounded against your back as you sat in your bathtub. Your mind fluttered around the idea of taking a job that required you to permanently leave the country for a while. Maybe you could fall in love with a nice coast side in Italy or a small Cafe in France.

You didn't notice the sound of your front door opening or the footsteps in your apartment. Your eyes were already so heavy. The steam of the shower only made the low lullaby of sleeper louder in your mind.

Sleep and everything will be better. 

>>>

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The bright sun burned your eyes as you blinked away the foggy feeling of sleep that still lingered around you. Your brain felt like a pile of mush as you reached for the bottle of water you kept on your side table.

How did you even get to bed?

The last few days had blurred together into a muddy picture. Everything jumbled together; drinks, painting, TV, organizing your kitchen, looking at apartments in foreign countries online.

"Morning!" Your brother chirped happily as he walked into your room. 

You could have literally jumped out of your skin. You screamed, loudly, almost falling out of the bed.

"What the fuck!" 

"I came back last night and you were asleep in the shower!" He said like you were the dumb one. "A thank you would be nice."

"Why are you in my apartment?" You asked, but only received the blankest of stares back. You knew why he was here. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad. Obviously, you need to hear it 'cause your apartment smells like a bar and you haven't talked to anyone in almost a week." He shrugged as he sat on the edge of your bed. The black ball of fur you'd eventually have to give back to your neighbor wasn't far behind him. Small black paws circled around you before he found a place to sleep comfortably.

"This sucks." You mumbled after a bit of silence. You could tell Jack didn't want to push you. Usually, this was a thing Tommy would handle but for some reason, the tribe had sacrificed Jack to be the emotional voice of reason this time.

"You know," he said as his hand ran through Marshmallow's fur. His teeth bit the inside of his lip as he debated what to say for a second before continuing. "you could just admit you were in the wrong and go apologize. I mean, you clearly fucking regret it." 

"I don't." You answered so quickly even Marshmallow didn't believe you. His green eyes stared in lazy disbelief. "I mean I do but… I don't know, Jack. It's weird 'cause I'm so sad but… what if this never gets better? What if it's always like this? Like, we're always struggling to be a normal couple?"

"You're not a normal couple so why would you try to act like one?" 

Your eyes shot to his at the words that poured out of his mouth so carefully. You'd never thought of it that way before. Your brows furrowed as you stared back at the bed. 

Was there a chance for you to make this work with them?

"Look, Y/N, relationships are fucking hard no matter what but you can't just… walk out on people before they get a chance to hurt you."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's kind of your thing, you know?" He smiled softly to you. Not condescending or in a know it all way, in the way only a sibling could without getting smacked. "Not that it doesn't make sense but if they made you happy, maybe you should try to hear their side of it."

"When did you become the smart brother?" You teased with that wide smile across your face.

"Right after I came out of the closet." 

"Shut up." You said through a laugh. The first one you'd had in days. That weight that laid on your chest seemed to have lifted a small amount.

Maybe, just maybe, you could talk this through with them.

>>>

You stood on the same doorstep you angrily stormed across not even a week ago. The pink door that you used to love, suddenly felt like a door to the electric chair. 

Maybe you couldn't do this.

You sighed, your eyes darting back to the old Camero you loved just a little too much. Arms crossed over your chest to keep you warm as you stood in your place. You knew you couldn't go back to your apartment this quickly without getting asked questions. 

Raphael, Jack, Tomás, and Jason were all waiting for your post-breakup meltdown if this didn't go well. Each one said they'd stay with you on rotation shifts until you felt better if you needed it.

Which was sweet, but you kind of wanted to rot in silence and alcohol if this went as badly as you thought it was going to. 

Your tongue grew thick as your stomach churned. Your eyes closed as you sighed heavily, your ass plopped down on his front steps, head rested in your hands.

You didn't know where to even start when it came to talking to them. Your feelings were hurt but you shouldn't have walked out without giving them a chance to explain. You didn't want to feel like the odd man out but didn't want to broadcast your relationship. 

The whole thing was messy and complicated. You wished so hard that it'd be easy. That talking about what you felt would be easy.

But you knew it wasn't, it never was, at least not for you. You shoved all your emotions down and kept chugging along your whole life. You pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. Which was exactly what ended you up here in the first place.

If you would have told them sooner they would have ended the PR shit.

"Hi." The thick accent from behind you startled your thoughts for a second but you didn't turn around. Your fingers messed with the edge of the rip in your jeans as your eyes focused on the crack in his sidewalk.

"Hi." You said quietly after what felt like a full minute of silence. You heard him let out a small sigh, his feet shuffled forward until he sat down quietly beside you.

You tried to not look at him, knowing if you did you'd burst out into tears. So you stayed focused on the ground, the dead leaves that floated along the road, the grass that was getting crunchy from the cold weather. 

"Y/N, 'M-" he started but you waved your hand to get him to stop. Your head rested against his shoulder that tensed up from your touch. 

You didn't want to talk for a second, just a second. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cologne he always wore was faint on his skin. The sleep shirt he wore was your favorite, you realized. The blue sweatshirt always made his eyes look so beautiful.

"I missed you." You said into his shoulder. Your lips brushed against the soft fabric as you spoke. 

"'M missed yeh too." His voice cracked as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. His fingers laced through yours as you moved closer into the warmth of him. "Flor's inside if y'wanna talk."

You sighed, you knew you needed to talk, knew you had to talk about it. You just didn't want to. The feel of him being close to you again, the intoxicating smell of him near. 

Your head lifted from his sweatshirt, only to see how rough he'd been doing himself the last few days. His bloodshot green eyes had large bags under them. His scruff on his face, messy brown curls. He'd done just as bad as you.

You only caught sight of his lips for a second before saying fuck it. Talking could happen later, you'd missed him so much.

Your lips pressed against his with a force that knocked him backwards for a second but you didn't care. No, this was the most "at home" you'd felt in days.

He felt like home.

His lips molded to yours so perfectly, once he got a hold of himself. His hand slipped to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as your lips parted, welcoming him back. 

He pulled you up with him. His hands around your waist, lips still connected with yours as he walked the pair of you inside.

You wished you could slow down the moment. The way he was holding you tightly to him, like he never wanted to let you go again. The fleeting feelings ran through your mind but they all ended the same way.

You fucking loved him, so much.

All your energy was going into not crying from your surge of emotions. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, your shaky hands danced in the messy tangle of his unkempt brown curls as you tried to hold onto that shred of sanity you had left. 

"I missed you." You breathed out when you came up for air. His forehead pressed against yours, his body crowded yours to the wall. "God, I fucking missed you." 

He chuckled, a slight smile on his now swollen lips but you couldn't help it. It was the only thing your brain could come up with besides how sorry you were for not giving him a chance to explain.

"Miss me any?" Her voice made you look around Harry. Her arms crossed over her chest but that hint of a smile smoothed across her lips as she leaned on the doorway that led to the entry.

"Wanna see how much I missed you both?"

>>>

Maybe this wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with your problems as a couple. But at this moment you could have cared less what a therapist would say about your tendency to avoid things that were important.

You laid on your back, your legs wide open, toes digging into the mattress as Florence's tongue pressed a wide thick lick through your folds. Circling around your bundle of nerves before slipping into you. 

You would have moaned out loud, if it wasn't for the dick rammed down your throat. Your head laid off the side of the bed, your vision upside down as Harry's pulsating member slid down your open and waiting mouth. His hand around your neck, squeezing himself.

"Missed fuckin' yeh throat, pup." He groaned out as his hips snapped against your spit soaked face. He backed out long enough for you to catch your breath before shoving his way back in. Your abused throat would hate you for this in the morning but right now you didn't care.

"Feel good, baby?" Flor asked as her finger curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that always made your eyes roll back. She didn't have to ask if it felt good, she knew it did, she just wanted the bragging rights of who gave you the better orgasm of the night.

Harry's member pulled out of your throat. You tried your best to catch your breath as he crouched down to your level. His hands doing the best they could to wipe away all the saliva that ran down your cheeks. Playful green eyes met yours.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked even though he really didn't need to. The sound of your moans alone was enough to tell you were close.

"Mhm." Was all you managed to get out, your hands threaded through Florence hair as her mouth joined her fingers. Your eyes closed as you got closer to your high, your skin raised in goosebumps as she did that fucking flicking, swirl, of her tongue that always did you in.

"Good, 'm gonna make you cum harder than that." Harry's words faded in your mind as that crashing sensation washed you away. 

Florence scoffed as her head lifted from between your legs. The back of her hand wiped your juices away as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

"Good fucking luck trying to top that one." 

"Guys," you groaned, your hand over your eyes. "Supposed to be makeup sex, not a competition." 

"Can be both." Harry mumbled under his breath, quietly, but you still caught it. Your eyes glared at him as you turned around on the bed.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you reached forward, your hands around his neck as you brought him up to your level. Your mouth enveloped his quickly to stop the argument.

You pulled him onto the bed with you two. His knees hitting the edge before climbing up the rest of the way as your tongue took control of this kiss. It didn't happen often but when it did you ran with the opportunity. His mouth following your lead until you pulled away slightly, your teeth catching his bottom lip softly causing him to moan.

"Fuck," he cursed as you pulled away that sweet smile on your face like you didn't know that he loved that.

Florence came behind the pair of you, her lips pressed against your shoulder, up your neck, small love bites left here and there before she took the chance to kiss you when Harry pulled away. Her hands pulled on your waist, tugging you down to the bed to lay on your back.

"Ready?" She asked as Harry stroked himself, the nod of your head was all he needed to hoist your legs up. His pulsing tip ran through your folds as you reached for Florence, your arms wrapped around her thighs as you pulled her down on your mouth.

Harry continued to tease your opening. His tip slipping in and out of you easily as your tongue ran rapid through Florence's pussy. Her wetness was almost to the point of dripping down your face. You groaned as you pulled her by her thighs down harder onto you as your tongue circled into her hole. Fuck, you missed her taste. 

You heard the sounds of their kissing, her moans, before he finally pushed his way into you. Your walls clinging around him immediately, pulling him closer into you, making him hiss lowly.

"Jesus, she always so fuckin' tight." His hands embedded themselves into your thighs as he held you open for him. His fingers pulled back the lips of your pussy briefly before you felt Florence shift forward, her core off your mouth as her tongue circled your clit.

Your loud, unabashed moans filled the room. Your mind clouded with nothing but desire and lust, barely functioning at all. Thoughts weren't making sense, you were going based on instinct when your fingers slipped into her cunt that was inches in front of your face.

Harry's grunt and groans as he fucked into your tight cave halted for a moment, his erection pulled out of you briefly. The unmistakable sounds of your girlfriend choking on your boyfriends cock filled the room.

You moaned at the sound, your core clenched as your fingers finally twisted into the right angle. Her velvet walls pulled you in as she tried her best to keep breathing around Harry's thick member.

"Fuck, keep doing that." He panted, accent thick, voice deep with pleasure as you hit that spot in her again. A flood of her arousal coated your fingers as she let out another loud moan, her body slacked on top of you as Harry pulled out of her throat. 

You weren't prepared for when he thrusted himself back into you. Your moan cracked as you gripped tightly onto Florence's thighs. 

"Told yeh I was gonna make you cum harder." He mumbled as Florence let out a laugh. She rolled over to lay beside you, her lips lazily kissing yours the best they could through Harry's rough thrusts into you.

"Make her cum harder than I did and you can cuddle her tonight." Florence smirked, her hands ran over your hair as you pouted.

"Deal."

"Hey! I wanted to cuddle both of you." Your head shot off the bed as you glared at the both of them, who were both very very clearly taking their competition too far.

Leave them alone for four days and you come back to them acting like children.

"Tomorrow night, sweetheart. I got somethin' prove." Harry smiled as he leaned down to you, his lips capturing yours before you could protest, a roll of his hips had you moaning.

Maybe this bet wasn't that bad.

"Yeah, proving I'm better." Florence scoffed again, adding fuel to the fire as her hand leisurely traveled between her legs. A soft moan passed through her lips as Harry basically growled at her through his teeth.

You rolled your eyes at her as she gave you a shrug and a smile. His length pulled out of you again as he lifted you up, switching you over to be on top of him.

He was pushed back into you in less than a second, his hands grasping the round flesh of your ass tightly as he leaned you forward into his chest. His legs pushed himself upwards, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

You were thankful he pulled you into his chest. Your moans rolled easily as his hands dug deeper into your skin, you were teetering on the edge with in minutes. His gruff groans as his sensitive pulsating member pushed into you only added fuel to the fire. 

"Come 'ere, baby." He said as he slowed down his punishing pace his hand left your bum, fingers slipped into Florence's mouth for only a few seconds before finding their way back to you.

The pressure from his finger prodding into your back hole had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The deep, low, sound that resonated in the bottom of your chest had a smug grin on Harry's face.

He knew he'd won.

His finger and along with his cock fucked into you until you could hardly register your own name. You could feel your heart beating in your core, your nipples so sensitive you could barely stand to have them brush against his own chest. 

Harry hummed as you seemed to lose yourself in the feeling of your mounting high. Florence's hand between her legs, stroking herself faster as her lips pressed to Harry's.

You felt a pressure in your stomach you'd never felt before, building and building, ready to bust any second. You didn't even have time to warn him when you felt the dam release. Your head floated in the clouds as your juices ran down him, soaking the bed.

"Well, fuck, I've never made her do that." Florence mumbled after Harry's final thrust into you. His gloating laugh filled the room as you laid limp.

"Told yeh so." He cooed as his hand ran down your back in soothing circles. Florence kissed softly on your shoulder, your arm, wherever until your eyes finally focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked as she brushed away the hair that was stuck to your face.

"Mhm, wanna sleep." You whined, your head pressed into Harry's shoulder tightly as you felt him soften inside of you. Your hips shifted to move off him but his hand quickly pressed your ass down again.

"Go to sleep, darlin'." He kissed the top of your head before he nuzzled into your. Florence arm wrapped around the both of you as Harry opened one arm for her to cuddle into his side. 

>>>

"Mornin', sweetheart." Harry hummed as he rounded the corner to his kitchen. A quick kiss placed on Florence's lips before he picked up the cup of tea she already had made for him.

"Morning." She mumbled into her cup. Her legs pulled up beside her as she sat on the counter. 

"Wot's wrong?" He paused before taking a sip, his eyes studying her as she sighed.

"It's just…" she stared at the coffee pot that hadn't been used in a week. The steaming brown liquid dripped into the vessel below it. She sighed, shaking her head. "I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was make sure she didn't leave again." 

Harry's eyes softened, his hand ran through her hair, lips pressed to her forehead. Trying his best to comfort her which is what he tried, and usually failed, at doing all week long.

"We'll talk to her, okay?"

Flor nodded her head, her lips pressed to his one last time as they heard the door to the bedroom creak open. A shirt you'd taken out of Harry's closet hit your knees as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Morning." You said as you gave both of them a kiss, your eyes more trained to the pot of delicious coffee than either one of their faces.

"Y/N?" Florence asked as you poured your first cup, the smell wafting into your senses had your knees almost buckling. 

"Yeah, baby?" You asked without turning around. The glass pressed to your swollen lips from all of last nights kissing, the warm mug felt like a relief to them.

"Can, uhm," she started, you finally turned around to see her looking uncomfortable. Her tongue wet her lips, eyes glanced to Harry before she continued. "can we talk, you know… about everything now?" 

"Right, yeah of course, we should… just-" You could feel the nerves pit in your stomach growing as you nodded towards the table. The three of you sat in your usual chairs, your usual mugs in your hands, but it wasn't an usual morning.

No, now you actually had to talk about what was bothering you.

"Right." Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started with already but the room was dead silent.

"Right." You repeated mostly to fill the awkward silence that was growing thicker in the room by the second. You could feel your ears rushing, the room was so quiet. No TV to drown out the weird atmosphere, no music to cover up the fact you had to talk about what happened.

"So, I guess 'm gonna start." Harry said after he glanced at the both of you two, seeing he was going to have to get the ball rolling on this whole thing.

"Yeh know 'm really, really, sorry 'bout the Gemma stuff. I was gonna tell her the next week after the last interview but she decided to come in early and surprise me." Your lips rolled in your mouth as you listened to him. You knew the whole time you sat in your apartment, drunk, that a version of this was what happened. "And I didn't want yeh to get hurt and 'm so sorry it seemed like I was hiding yeh away from people."

You could feel the start of tears in your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from a blubbering meltdown that was about to happen. Which you might have been able to avoid if his hand didn't wrap itself around yours from across the table.

"Just," you sighed, your hand squeezed his as you tried to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek. "Just, I should have said it was bothering me before it got to that point and I'm sorry I didn't and I blew up then walked out."

"It's okay." Florence said softly, her other hand laced through your free one. "But… maybe, we should agree to talk about stuff a bit more."

"Yeah, think that would probably be good." Harry agreed as he scooted forward in his chair, his hand wiped away the rest of your tears. "So, yeh gonna stay, right?"

You smiled up to him, your hand laced tighter through Florence's fingers as you nodded your head.

Yeah, you think you'd stay with them.

[cleololax]

Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one 👌🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

[just-like-playing-tag]

A totally self indulgent compilation of my favorite works on this blog of the year June 13, 2020 - June 13, 2021

2019-2020

The following lists are all in chronological order according to the date each post was first published.

Top 10 panel edits:

#1: It's our first morning

Date: Aug 20th, 2020 Time: ~ 2:18 h I really like how this one turned out!!! The 2020 Emma b-day edit has a lot of major panel redraws, but this is probably my favorite. I I really enjoy how I made the shadows work!! And the ear banfage looks pretty neat. Nice!!! Immagine

#2: Norman birthday edit 2021

Date: Mar 20th, 2021 Time: ~ 2:21 h Awww, soft Norman :') There was a bit to redraw, but I think everything turned out pretty neat!!! I believe everything works out fine. Though looking back at it, the part of the ID I added is definitely top small :')

#3: Manga dub: Yuugo gets knocked out

Date: Mar 27th, 2021 Time: ~ 5:05 h Here start the Manga Dub redraws to which I gave my everything ahah. This one turned out nice! I think the shoes turned out particularly good eheh. I like how Yuugo's clothing lineart- for the texture, I wanted to go for something heterogeneous, but I'm not fully confident in the final result. Gilda looks very rushed but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#4: Manga dub: Yuugo makes his dramatic entrance

Date: Apr 5th, 2021 Time: ~ 4:02 h This is pretty cool!!!! The coat took ages to redraw, but sis it turned out perfect!!! I'm very proud of this.

#5: Manga dub: RayGildEmma hug!!!

Date: Apr 9th, 2021 Time: ~ 1:31 h Awww, a beautiful panel I was really happy to have the chance to redraw. Taking into account what there was to redraw, I'm actually surprised with how little this took! Ray's backpack was a pain to make, but I think it turned out fine. I'm very happy with Emma and Ray's heads!!

#6: Manga dub: Formalities

Date: Apr 12th, 2021 Time: ~ 5:31 h It is not always easy to give sense to Demizu's perspective, but I do my best!!! In this I am *so* happy with how Don and Ray turned out, they look neat! The background on the other hand... It took hours to make ahah. I'm not fully confident in the perspective, but I'm happy with the details I've added- I really did my best to make it look like athe other manga panels and I think it paid off!!!

#7: Manga dub: We may be weaklings, but we're still alive

Date: Apr 30th, 2021 Time: ~ 1:37 h This little Emma is so cute!!!!!! I think the redraw turned out pretty perfect. I'm really satisfied with how this one turned out, and it's such a cute little Emma!!!! She's so brave and optimistic, I love her. It's a shame this panel didn't make it to the episode :')

#8: Manga dub: Goldy Pond Gang

Date: May 7th, 2021 Time: ~ 8:44 h lmao This is probably the panel redraw I'm the most proud of ever :') Just think everyone turned out very nice!! The ceiling is not exactly perfect, but it still works somehow. I'm very happy with how Gillian's back turned out!! I don't really like the fading effect on the right, but 8h in I got pretty tired of working on this ahah

#9: Manga dub: This is Goldy Pond

Date: May 21st, 2021 Time: ~ 1:29 h I'm very glad for how the Manga dub has been challenging me to learn to redraw backgrounds, something I had quite literally never tried before. It can be a little frustrating, but it's so satisfying to see the final cleaned piece!! With this panel, I also learnt to use copy and paste, which is something I had never done before beyond texture

#10: Manga dub: Good morning doctor

Date: May 21st, 2021 Time: ~ 3:42 h This is another background that turned out pretty good!! That one Norman is one I knew I would have had to fully redraw sooner or lager- the background was a bonus ahah. I'm very happy with the final result!!

Top 5 edits as whole:

#1: The Promised Neverland manga ending edit

Date: Jun 14th 2020 Time: ~ 12h 41min (5h 45min of cleaning panels in the edit + 5h 37min of cleaning panels that didn't make it to the edit + 1h 19min of resizing) + time spent cleaning panels I've deleted the file of so I can't see lmao This is overall very nice!!! The concept of an Emma evolution through her back is cool, and I think overall the edit turned out very aesthetically pleasing. The concept idea came to me while I was working on the 2019 Emma's birthday edit, a long time before the manga ending announcement- back then I wouldn't have imagined using it in occasion of the manga ending, but I think it ended up making a nice tribute. The colors add a nice touch, since so far my edits had always been black and white- it makes a sweet closure. To make that edit I selected 76 panels of Emma framed from her back; I plan to make other versions of that edit using the discarded panels eventually!

#2: Emma - Chapter 181: Beyond Destiny

Date: Jul 12th 2020 Time: 2h 57min My last edit for the manga 🥺🥺 I think this one is my very "manga ending edit" because to me it really signed the ending of weekly chapters and their weekly chapter edits. It makes me a little sad to look at it, but it's also, I don't know, kinda sweet to see how I grew both in my panel cleaning and as a person since I first started my blog. I'm glad I got into TPN!

#3: Emma birthday edit 2020

Date: Aug 22nd 2020 Time: 8h 54min This one turned out so well!!! Though I used the same concept for all the trio edits, I think this one is the best one. The two panels on the left / two panels on the right alternation combo never fails ahah. The colors are nice (shout-out to my sister for making me a palette), despite the fact that it was hard for the lighter ones to make them work with the images without having those disappear. I'm very satisfied with the panels I chose for this, I think they work really good together! Also, it got me very happy to read everyone's comments saying they liked the fading effect in the last panel :)

#4: Emma + Eyes Close Ups [1/?]

Date: Jan 24th 2021 Time: 5h 55min This one was really nice!! Another idea I got when working on the 2019 Emma birthday edit I was glad to finally execute. Started the edit in September, finished it in December. I'm overall very happy with how it turned out... I hope I will be able to make more in the future!

#5: The Promised Neverland Parallels → (9/?) » 114 // 122

Date: Feb 23th 2021 Time: 5h 7min (panel cleaning only) Aaaaahh I really like this one!!!! A parallel I love very much, and I'm really happy with how the edit turned out. All the hair redrawing looks neat!!!! The gif is maybe a little excessive, but I think overall it's a nice edit. I like it!!! Fun fact, I completed it on August 26th 2020, but I couldn't find the right moment to post it ahah.

Honorable mention: The Promised Neverland Parallels → (5/?) » 08 // 16

Date: Aug 30th 2020 Time: 2h 52min (Second picture cleaning only; I deleted the first picture art file so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) I don't have much to say about this one except!! It turned out very nice!!!!! Love the pen lmao.

Top 10 analysis:

Too many analysis,,

#1: Post chapter 181 Emma analysis

Date: Jul 9th 2020 Mmmh a nice analysis. I think it was important for me to put down in words what I think of Emma's characterization and the manga ending, so I'm happy I did it!

#2: A long Oliver analysis because I love him very much

Date: Dec 6th 2020 What can I say I just love Oliver tons 😔😔💕💕 This was very fun to make!!!

#3: TPN s2 previsions

Date: Jan 14th 2021 Really love the effort that went into this + me proving that 11 episodes GP could have possibly worked + it's just a lot of fun to read again after s2 ended pffft

#4: More s2 delusional previsions lmao

Date: Jan 27th 2021 I think the points and previsions I made where pretty neat!! In my defense, it was pretty impossible to predict the anime would have ended with this season. I always feel honoured when friends and Anon ask for my opinion, I'm like "you wanna know what I think? Wow. I'm flattered (◍•ᴗ•◍) " Thank you to anyone who ever sent me an ask!!

#5: Why Emma not wearing pants is 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘

Date: Jan 29th 2021 Really proud of this!!! Pants Emma is important!!!!!

#6: Post episode 5 manga Emma analysis

Date: Feb 4th 2021 A depressed analysis, but a necessary one 😔

#7: Norman analysis

Date: Feb 12th 2021 I love him!!!! And I'm happy I eventually got to put down in words what I love about his character. The day I posted this ww3.readneverland was in maintenance so I couldn't use the volume scans for it- the thought of that post having fan edited and fan translated scans still haunts me

#8: RayDon rambles

Date: May 12th 2021 I had a blast writing this and like. It's likely the post of mine I reread more often of them all. I love this ship tons!!!!! I'm satisfied with how I put down in words what I like about them. I LOVE THIS SHIP

#9: Chapter 58 analysis

Date: May 23th 2021 I've wanted to express this concept since like the first time reading the manga- I'm so happy I finally did!!!! This concept is one of my absolute favorite things about tpn- the feelings that people are good. The concept that kids who got to live in an healthy and supportive environment will always be inclined to kindness and altruism, because humans are just inherently good. From the Three Character Classic: “people at birth are inherently good”. I want to have faith and courage to hold on the goodness in myself, and to hold on the goodness in the world, no matter how difficult it to do that (Chloé Zhao).

#10: Norman and Lambda squad relationship analysis

Date: May 24th 2021 I think this was a pretty sharp analysis and I like what I did with it!!

Other stuff:

#1: Krone birthday edit

Date: Jul 15th 2020 This edit is so good ;; Like not perfect since it was my first attempt at coloring gifs but still I believe it turned out so good ;;;;;; The time and effort that went unto this is crazy, but... Maybe I'm happy to have dedicated time to something I like for a satisfying result.

#2: Get to know my ship- Wolfpack Trio

Date: Aug 24th 2020 Uuuh a good post. A good ship.

#3: Gilda + blank glasses

Date: Aug 27th 2020 This is such a cute nice compilation!!! I love looking at it. A few panels are missing but still :')

#4: Apollo Ray AU

Date: Sep 7th 2020 (Though it was written Sep 2nd 2019 lmao) I'm so happy I finally gathered the courage to post this 😭😭 I really enjoy what I did with this AU, so this one and its other installments are all posts I have a lot of fun rereading. More than everything, I was astounded and overjoyed by the positive response it got: that gave me tons of confidence to put my ideas out there, no matter how unique they sound!!! Here's to hoping I will be able to post my RayEmma Hadestown AU, by other big AU from late summer 2019 :')

#5: TPN timeline project

Date: Dec 2nd 2020 This is like. I don't know it's a lot ahah. Arguably the project I'm the most proud of ever making. I'm just so happy of all the months long hard work and of the final result!! The post didn't receive much response (though the ones I got were extremely kind and sweethearted so that totally makes up for it), but in the end I don't really mind? I'm just so proud I accomplished that idea :')

#6: TPN calendar

Date: Jan 4th 2021 A nice sum of the tpn timeline + everyone's birth dates!!! I really like how it turned out visually. It's a cute little tpn calendar!!!

#7: Ray smiles compilation

Date: Jan 17th 2021 Ray's smile. That's it that's the post :')

#8: Trans Oliver headcanons

Date: Jan 24th 2021 MMMH really like this headcanon I think about it a lot

#9: Thoma and Lani theory

Date: Jan 28th 2021 I really don't want to brag but this is the best joke I've ever made :')

#10: My TPN AUs

Date: May 10th 2021 Ok you gotta admit those are very good AUs, I'm glad to have made a list out of them!!!

#11: Ranking Emma promotional art outfits

Date: May 16th 2021 This is one people seem to have liked a lot which makes me happy ahah. I'm glad to know we can all agree Emma deserves more pants outfits!! Please stop it with the gendered clothing :') This is the post I want to be remembered for

#12: TPN musicals AU part 2

Date: May 20th 2021 A GREAT POST I can't stretch enough how happy I am with those character-song associations. I hope I have time to make a part 3 in the future!!

#13: TPN Drive folder

Date: May 30th 2021 This was born as a way for me to have all the tpn extra contents easily accessible, but I'm happy to have shared it with people- I hope it will turn out to be useful to others too!

#14: TPN s2 recolorings

Date: Jun 12th 2021 A more diverse children cast is good for the soul :')

That's it, this year was really fun!! Thank you to everyone who supported me through it, I can't express how grateful I am for all the kindness and validation I received. Here's to many more months in the fandom!!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Do you think BigHit pays attention to how much things to show to be able to "please" each ship, esp the maknae ships? For example, If a run ep/any content showed a little bit more of vmin, it will somehow highlight jikook or taekook next. For sure, the boys are not faking their interactions, but do u think BigHit consciously monitor these interactions and edit it in a way that can avoid violent reactions from diff ship groups? Sorry I cannot word this ask well. 😕 I'd love to hear ur thoughts.

Thank you so much for the amazing question! And your wording was really good and clear so don’t worry about that.

I think the first major thing we need to remember is that BH is a company, and a company’s main purpose, above all else, is to generate revenue. Which isn’t a bad thing in this case seeing as, depending on how much BH makes, so do the members since their contracts, compared to others in the same industry, have some great percentages in their favor.

With that in mind, the answer to your question is a very simple and straight forward yes. BH monitors and plans things accordingly to please (paying) costumers, in the context of this answer, shippers. Fan service and showing certain interactions in certain ways are a great marketing tool that every idol agency uses for decades now, it isn’t anything new or revolutionary in any shape or form, though it’s clear that the type of fan service the BTS members do nowadays has changed in comparison to earlier years, like Jimin being required to perform shirtless at an award show.

In the context of this answer when using “ship”, I simply mean two members interacting with each other and are liked together by a certain community of people, and not actual pairs that have (in my opinion) chances or signs of being real (in a romantic sense) at all, except for vmin and namjin, since those are the only two we see as fulfilling that criteria of romantic potential and are the only two we focus on on this account. But that at large is a post/discussion for another time.

When it comes to showing different interactions between ships, or even really any kind of duo or trio in the group, editing and what does and doesn’t get shown certainly plays a role and follows some kind of idea as well. A good example of that would be how following the release of Dynamite there was a bigger “focus” on J*k*ok, seeing as they had their own moment together in the choreography and we were shown more of their interactions/”moments” in content around that time. But, while that satisfied one major ship and its devotees, it didn’t satisfy another, so it needed to be balanced out. Which is exactly what BH did.

More below the cut since this got a little long:

If you look at the Break the Silence: Persona movie commentary done by the members, the maknaes sit together in the middle of the sofa (and the screen) with JK between vmin, meaning that both major ships could pay attention to their two members and be “pleased” at the same time by any and all interactions or “moments”. A counter argument to moments involving all three of them working in a positive manner would be the Dynamite performance at Jimmy Fallon (x) that ended with the members skating around on roller-skates where at one point the maknaes were together, JK holding Tae’s wrist while Jimin had his hands on Tae’s hips (?). It was a cute and funny moment of them just helping Tae since he can’t skate, but it caused a plethora of negative/awful reactions among those who ship one and the other “main” maknae ship with, in both cases, either Jimin or Tae being on the receiving end of awful accusations, insults, and alike. Then again, to balance out J*k*ok Dynamite content, we can look at the BE-hind Story video where JK and Tae sat together and were seen interacting more, while Jimin interacted more with Yoongi, where Yo*nm*n is also a rather popular ship.

Perhaps it sounds mean or calculated or like I’m badmouthing other ships as just “tools”, but the thing we have to keep in mind is that every piece of content is planned in a certain manner (BTS are seven people after all so you can’t just tell them to do something and hope it’ll just magically work out somehow), is filmed by a giant crew of staff from stylists to PDs and lighting crews, and while there are certainly also genuine interactions between the members, simply because they enjoy spending together and interacting, being close and have no issue touching each other etc, many of these things are not really anything that would really count as “intimate” moments due to the nature of the content itself. But shippers oftentimes ignore that in favor of enjoying whatever content of their ship they are given, which makes sense, as vminnies and namjinists we do too, but we also know that BH certainly has a hand in what is and isn’t shown, and the way in which it is shown.

Look at the trailer for Memories of 2019 and the famous J*k*ok moment that was front and center. From a marketing standpoint it was a genius move since it made sure that shippers would go and buy the DVD regardless of its price. Look at what we’ve gotten for Winter Package 2021 so far, J*k*ok being playful in the trailer, T*ek*ok squished together in the picture on IG, and J*k*ok next to each other, along with Seokjin, in the preview pictures on Weverse. Of course, there was also a picture of Yoongi and Hoseok together (a popular ship) as well as Namjoon with Yoongi and Namjoon with Tae (far less popular), but those three aren’t really selling arguments the way the major maknae ships are. Even vmin isn’t, seeing as the vmin community is much, much smaller than the other two maknae ships, and also vmin moments are often times written off as ‘friends’ interacting anyway and thus not taken seriously (or being paid attention to), if you know what I mean.

(Admin 1: I, for one, would really love to own the 5th Muster DVD because I love the concert itself but also because the famous vmin dancing together to Spring Day sequence is immortalized in picture form in the photobook, so I’m not innocent or “different” in any way since I fall for this marketing stuff just as much as everyone else.)

But on the other hand, there’s also content that isn’t as controlled by BH as pre-recorded and edited videos or DVD’s, as in their vlives or live content, like the BE/LGO release day vlive in pajamas where, sure, the members were given a general plan of what they’ll be doing and a timeframe for it, but certain things seemed more spur-of-the-moment and unplanned, like the vmin lipstick moment (Tae putting on the lipstick was planned, but the final executions likely wasn’t) and the way the other members reacted to it. Or things they do at concerts, which some of it is surely also rehearsed and planned, we saw Hoseok ask JK if he’d do a heart with him at some point during one of the concerts, as example, or Tae and Seokjin planning their typical moment that happened at every concert, but other ones are more in the moment and not controlled.

When it comes to concert DVDs, that is again a different story seeing as a camera can only show as much at a time, so the editors are presented all the footage from the concert and then decide which to show and which not. So, if we see an interaction between JK and Hoseok, for example, at the same time somewhere else Namjoon might be dancing with Seokjin or vmin could be doing something, but we’d simply never know since they can’t show us everything.

That, in a way, is also the case with actual concerts where there’s a difference, somewhat, between concerts that get filmed for DVDs or streamed online, and those that are not. Something that comes to mind would be a vmin moment during Best of Me in Busan on the day that didn’t get filmed where they skipped the first half of the choreography and vmin stood together, half of that sequence being just visible in the background while JK is the primary focus of the cameras that are shown on the side screens, and this whole thing only happened this one time and never again. (x) That’s a moment that, in my opinion, isn’t planned, or other similar moments where vmin change the choreographies (even if just a little) to do something together, like during Spring Day during WINGS Tour Final where Jimin adjusted his solo moment so that he ended up in front of Tae. (x)

There’s also this whole mythos I’ve heard/read about a lot about how supposedly at some of the not filmed Japanese concerts (where I’m not sure if people mean LY:SY or just LY) had some crazy moments between the members (in the sense of “ship” moments and alike) BUT I couldn’t find any proof of that, so if someone perhaps knows anything about this, let me know.

Finally, there’s also things like Bon Voyage and In the SOOP which, you’d expect that they would be less edited and less controlled, but even here a selection takes place of which scenes are shown and which are not. Something I find interesting is how the first half of In the SOOP feels very different to how the second half does when they return to the house after being gone for a few days. In the first half vmin (as well as namjin) seemed to “satellite” around each other and interact much more, playing ping pong or doing things together in some shape or form, but in the second half that was (nearly) completely gone and neither interacted much with each other, if at all. We even had Jimin who outright refused to join Tae and Hoseok on their car adventure, or we saw Seokjin wake up Namjoon to go jogging yet never got to see said jogging happening (if it did happen, that is).

So, to sum all of this up: Yes, BH definitely monitors and guides the way certain things are and aren’t shown in order to achieve certain things or avoid certain reactions, though it’s a complex balancing act and doesn’t always work out. There are things that are unplanned and not controlled, of course, but there’s also a fair amount of marketing play involved. 

After all BTS aren’t rookies anymore, instead they are giant household names and their actions and words move people, move money, and on top of that they are still idols, and part of what it means to be an idol is differentiating between your idol appearance/persona (so what we see in screen) and your personal private life, which is usually kept as secret as only possible. How much they themselves choose to share of their real selves and real feelings toward each other is up to them (as well as up to BH and how much they “allow” them to/don’t edit out). But that, too, is a whole other discussion for another time.

[oftenderweapons]

The Power Couple - hyung line

Pairing: hyung line member x reader

Wordcount: 1.2k words circa, each

Genre: romance scenarios/imagine

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello, my darlings, sorry I didn’t post last week but exam season is insane and I’m seriously struggling :(

Anyways, I’ve been working on these and I hope I’ll be able to write and post the maknae line during the next week. 

Did you enjoy Bang Bang Con The Live? I watched it with my ARMY squad and since we were still craving BTS material afterwards we did a 5th muster rewatch, YAY!

Okay, now TRIGGER WARNINGS: not much this week really, just mild allusions to smut, (a bit more descriptive in Yoongi’s piece), there are some more explicit thingies (ahem, collar, leash, generic mention on toys, stress relieving quickie) and milder but possibly sexy thingies (slightly revealing outfits), mild angst in Joon’s piece (namely minor harassment, nothing descriptive). Watch out for: one tense, insecure and lowkey (highkey) kinky Joon, one very soft Jin, one very tired, very whipped Min Suga and the usual energy fluff ball Hobi (also kinky, though)

I love you all, please stay safe <3

Here you can find the maknae line

And here you can find my masterlist

Namjoon

“You know we don’t have to do this.”

You offered him the string. “What if I want them all to know.”

"_____, I love you and I repeat, I will only do this if it's what you want. You have to give this to me. I won't take it from you. I seriously don't want to force this on you." He fixed his tie, loosening it a little. He was nervous. The car was slowly arriving to the venue. A couple more minutes and you would be out, photographers screaming for your attention, celebrities surrounding you, women envying you, men wanting you. It wasn't the first time you attended a red carpet as Namjoon's plus one, but the previous attempt had peaked with a cocky rapper putting his eyes on you, flirting inappropriately while Joon was busy and making you deeply uncomfortable. As a consequence, Joon had kept you close for the rest of the night and had to give up on having you beside him for a couple events after that, since you didn't feel safe enough to attend.

However, this afternoon he had come to your room with a hefty velvet box, looking at you with complete rapture in his eyes.

“You look like a dream come true.”

“I hope it’s a good dream,” you replied, waiting for the stylist to finish fixing your hair in a classy bun.

“A very good one.”

You were wearing matching suits. Regular, black silk suits, tailored exactly the same, the only difference was the fact that you weren’t wearing any shirt underneath your jacket.

“Thank you.”

“I have something for you.” He came closer, the stylist done with your hair, bowing kindly as you made a small bow to her in reply, thanking her for her work.

“I thought we said no jewellery.”

“Well, technically…” He opened the box, showing you a collar of diamonds. “You don’t have to.” He said sheepishly. “Wear it, I mean. And I don’t want people to think that I consider you an animal that needs to be collared, or a possession. I saw it and I thought you would love it.”

“Yes. I love it.” You touched it gently with your fingertip. “I’ll wear it.”

He smiled so brightly that you knew all the negative comments would never cast a shadow on the overwhelming joy he was showing in this moment: you would do unspeakable things to make him smile at you like that.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yes, sir.” It was half a tease, half an admission of his dominance over you. In the secret language you had created together this meant that you trust him and that you allow him to take complete control over you, that he is entitled to do whatever he wants with you. It was also a way to reassure yourself that he would protect you tonight, that he wouldn’t leave your side and that he would take care of you. That no man would ever lay his eyes and hands on you tonight.

He clasped it easily around your neck, the measure just right, and you suspected he knew because of the way he uses his hands on your neck, randomly, sometimes to soothe you and support you, some others to arouse you and gain his own pleasure.

The tension on your shoulders eased a little as you saw your reflection in the mirror. There was no doubt you belonged to him, that you were his. Still, some anxiety snaked in your belly.

“I don’t really wanna push my luck,” he said, looking down, breaking eye contact, “but I had a small thing made to match the… necklace.”

You looked at him curiously. “Can I see?”

“I know you won’t judge me but I feel very vulnerable about this and I thought we should talk it out before you…”

“I love you.” You whispered, calming his gibbering. “Show me.”

He lifted the board where the necklace laid, showing another compartment of the box were a snaky string laid, all coiled up. You took it and unwrapped it.

A leash.

He looked at you. “You don’t have to say yes, we can use it another time, or not use it at all.”

It means guidance, belonging, discipline. All things you needed tonight.

“Yes.” You told him, confidence sparking in your eyes.

That night, when you walked down the red carpet you felt nothing but the cold sensation of the metal around your neck, and the scorching pride in Namjoon’s eyes.

Journalists asked questions, people took pictures, but the only thing that mattered was what you felt: you were Namjoon’s equal, with your identical suits, and at the same time you were his beloved pet, someone he would cherish, guide, defend and protect.

Seokjin

“Ready?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiled a tight lipped smile and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“God, they won’t take their eyes off of you.”

Tonight you were supposed to attend a film premiere of one of Jin’s friends. It got you slightly uncomfortable, since it was your first official event with him as a couple. Of course ARMY had already seen you a few times since the official announcement of your relationship, once at the airport, as you came back from a quick getaway you and Jin had taken, then then in a bunch of pictures, and then during a vlive, when you had taken a small visit to say hi and introduce yourself, letting Jin lead you through the whole event and giving you the cue when he thought he needed some alone time with his fans. He had been very tactful in the whole revealing, hiding you enough to protect you from harmful stalkers, but also introducing you to ARMY like a single dad would present his girlfriend to his child.  

“Is the dress inappropriate?”

“No. You’re stunning. I love it.” He pressed his nose to your temple. “I’m just worried.”

You leaned softly into him.

“There’s so much skin here...” He let one finger slide down the curve of your neck. “Everyone will be looking.” He kissed behind your ear. “You could wear a rubbish bag and they would still be looking.” He wished he had more skin to touch, but he was also grateful your body was pretty much covered up, the delicate green dress exposing nothing but your collarbones, with long chiffon sleeves, the corset decorated with a leaf embroidery, stopping just above your waist and then flowing down in lush emerald waves.

“I’m glad I wore my white suit.” He commented,

“You look incredible, love.” You complimented him.

“I needed to show them I deserve you.”

You laughed. “I’m the one who needs to one-up her game to match you.”

The back of the limo was quiet as you created that special space of communion and comfort you naturally slip in when you’re both silent.

“You’ll be by my side all night, right?” You murmured, worried. “There’s a lot of people and I feel like such an outsider...”

“Right beside you.” He comforted you. “So they can’t snatch you from me.”

You both giggled, his voice betraying his anxiety. “It will take a major calamity to get me away from you.”

“Like a very big magnet.” You frowned. “You know, attraction.” Your frown intensified. “They say I’m magnetic. the only way to beat me would be a really big magnet.”

Your mouth stretched in a tight lipped smile, hoping not to show how much you loved his unusual sense of humour.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him.

“It’s been a long week. I was hoping we could just stay in and chill. Instead we’ll have to go through all of this while I’m tired and tense. I really don’t feel like being among people tonight.” He sighed. “My social energies have reached a new minimum.”

“We can be pretty and silent, hide in the background.” You held his hand and kissed it, careful not to smear lipstick on it.

“I doubt they’ll let us. It’s your first public presence.”

“They’ve seen me on your vlives, on pictures.”

“They’ll want to see you live, up close, see how you interact.” He twisted his wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Then let them watch. We’ll casually brush them off. ARMY know you, and they will get to know me with time, no need to reveal our whole life to journalists. Plus, it’s not like we’re the main event of the night.”

“As if, darling. They’ve been waiting for this for so long they’ll be like vultures. I wish I could protect you.”

“It’s good, love. We’ll have each other’s back. We just need a secret code to say when to run and hide in the closest broom closet.”

He laughed. “Usually Namjoon is so good, you know, he’s an extrovert, he takes care of all the press and journalists so well.”

“It must be reassuring.”

“He does all the talking, J-Hope drowns them in pretty smiles and positive energy, and Jimin gets flirty and cute, and that’s all it takes. I can stand on the side, jump in when I’m more comfortable. They ease the anxiety a lot.”

“I’ll learn from them. I’ll have them teach me so I can help you," You stated reassuringly.

“Just hold my hand.”

You reached the venue and exited the limo, suddenly immersed in the flashing lights of cameras, Jin extending his hand to you, helping you out of the car. He kept his palm against yours, “I got you.” He whispered in your ear, then smiling brightly at you and inviting you to walk forward, indicating you the red carpet with his free arm, bowing slightly with perfect manners. He charmed you all over in that second.

“Follow the stewards’ lead. They’ll tell you when to stop, when to walk, where to look.” You started strolling comfortably, close to each other. “If you wanna run, just squeeze my hand three times and I’ll carry you to the closest broom closet.”

You smiled at each other. The sounds of camera shutters multiplied infinitely. Not that you really noticed. You were too caught up in your man’s smile. As you promised, you grabbed his hand and never let go.

Yoongi

“How did it go?”

“The interview?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna hate it.” He plopped on the sofa.

“Was it that bad?”

“They kept asking questions about you.”

“Like?”

“Saying my new music really reflected how you brightened my life or something.”

You laughed and sat beside him, passing him a cold beer, your own drink in hand. “They really love the whole ‘love redeems you’ anthem. They can’t stand the idea of self growth and acceptance.”

“It kinda looks like the beauty saving the beast, because of AgustD being a bad boy who met love and found the right path.”

“So dumb.” You clinked your bottles. “Still, congrats for finally finishing AgustD promotion.”

“Yeah, but this means that next week I’ll be in Los Angeles. I need to meet a singer for a collab.”

You huffed. Being his girlfriend is not easy. It’s a matter of carefully planning your schedules, continuously living with two different clocks on your phones set in different time zones, sometimes even wearing two watches at the same time, one at your wrist, the other a nice pocket watch that he had gifted you for your first anniversary, so that you could always “have his time”, as he said.

“Well, then we’ll have to make the best of this weekend.” You nudged him with your elbow. He smiled at you knowingly then took a sip. He zapped through some tv programmes, finally settling on the news. Right in that moment a small clip of the two of you came up, something about his album sales or the fact that he donated a percentage to a school that you had visited together a while ago for a project.

“God, you look amazing, babe.” He licked his lips and stared at you smiling wide at the cameras. They went on discussing your relationship, which to the public was quite new, even though the announcement had come shortly after your two year anniversary, that is about a couple months ago.

“That’s cause you make me look radiant.” You took a sip yourself.

“Really, look at that!” They showed a short footage of your first public appearance, at his side during a music award. “Beautiful.”

You smiled mischievously, brushing his knee.

“You remember that night?” He said. That’s exactly what you were expecting.

“Of course. How could I forget it? You left one-month-long reminders.” You remembered how you had to postpone your regular medical checkups because of the bruises he had left around.

“You were so good.” He praised, his eyes half glazed over, caught in a memory.

You felt emboldened. “I wish we did it more often.” You turned towards him.

“Look how pretty.” He ignored your cue, and it was quite probably intentional. “Showing all those tits to the world.” He gulped a mouthful of beer and clicked his tongue. “The interviewer’s eyes kept going downwards.”

Your dress was not improper at all. It covered everything that needed to stay private, the long sleeved, high neck bodice had just a central stripe of mesh fabric, starting at your collar and hitting a few inches above your belly button, which let the crevice of your breasts be vaguely outlined, just vaguely, and Yoongi had risked losing his manners and self control over it. Photographers had loved your overall vibe, looking adorably ethereal, your hair braided in a crown, your flowy gown matching Yoongi’s lace shirt.

But of course your bodice caused a fuss the day after in the news. Not that you really cared. Yoongi had loved it, clasping your hand like crazy anytime a man came close, but at the same time parading you in front of the cameras, moving you around like a delicate nymph -- which he would undoubtedly claim as soon as the night was over. He swam in the calm and femininity you radiated, your energy matching his. All it would take was a twist of a wrist, a tap of a finger and he would be directing you in posing, your bodies moving simultaneously, as if you were nothing but a puppeteer and his toy, him pulling at your strings.

The whole experience awakened a connection so profound and intuitive, instinctual, that as you reached your hotel room together you still felt those magnets pushing and pulling you to each other, turning your lovemaking into some complicated dance, then into wild, rowdy fucking where no words were needed, your moans and groans saying exactly where to kiss, bite, hit, grope and fondle.

“Are you thinking about it too?” He asked.

“I miss it so much.” You whispered.

“Do you want to?” He kissed your temple. “Need me to?” He used his spare hand to massage your scalp.

Still, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s okay. You’re tired.” You leaned into his hand and nuzzled into him.

“It’s been three weeks. Usually you can’t go three days without it.” He kissed you again, delivering eskimo kisses on your cheekbone. The tenderness of it was slowly gnawing at your insides.

“But you’re tired.” You whined. “Let’s just chill.” You grabbed his empty bottle and cuddled beside him. A few minutes later he was deep asleep, his head propped against the sofa and his mouth open. You covered him with a blanket and held him tighter.

Hoseok

“Oh, sweetie! Oh, love! Oh, my god! My girl, so good!” Hoseok cheered you on as you descended the stairs, careful not to stumble on your dress.

“Thank you, Hobi.” You touched your hair, falling in soft waves on one side of your face.

“Seriously, ____, you look so fucking good, baby.” He took your hand to spin you around for him, examining you carefully.

“Oh god.”

“I can change if you need me to, there’s an alternative upstairs and I have time, I can-”

“No baby, it’s… wow.” He eyed again the slit on your gown, starting mid-thigh and exposing the side of your left leg cheekily. His eyelashes batted like crazy, his hands already reaching for your bum, cupping it through the tight, sparkly fabric. The dress had a siren gown, and since it was quite daring you had the stylist prepare an alternative, since Hoseok couldn’t see you in it and you weren’t sure of his opinion. It’s not like you needed his approval, or that he wouldn’t let you wear it, but you weren’t completely sure of it, and you needed him boosting your ego a little. One single sign of unsurety and you would dash to the bedroom to change. But his beaming smile and the way his eyes were glued to your skin made you understand he would be lowkey upset by your change of outfit.

He looked unreal. His baby blue suit was highlighted by silver details, matching the sober sparkles of your grey dress. He looked you in the face, hesitating one second before pressing a blazing kiss on your lips. It was scorching, resembling the usual bolt of energy between the two of you.

“I need more.” He whispered against your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

“You know we’re gonna fuck it up.”

“I feel like fucking you up.” He murmured, a little disappointed that you were resisting him. You could feel his arousal against your hip.

You simply laughed. “They’re gonna pick us up in less than half an hour. We don’t have all that time.”

“We can take way less than that, you know it.”

Quickies with him were… perfect. Hot, messy, reckless. Merciless. His pace could be devilish, ruthless. Still-- “We’re gonna be sweaty and sleepy afterwards.” You grabbed the hair on his nape gently, holding him away from your face.

“So?” His hands, once on your hips, now were on the small of your back and slipping lower.

“I don’t want them to see you all freshly fucked out.” You murmured with a pout.

“Oh, are you jealous or are you worried they’re gonna see you all freshly fucked out?” He asked, nagging you, squeezing your ass.

“I just don’t want you to.” You replied, pout intensifying to the point it dimpled.

“Baby is jealous.” He teased you, his voice doing that cute ups and downs it does when he’s being deliberately cute and bratty. “You don’t want them seeing how good you are to daddy?”

That word. He was playing it dirty, pushing all your buttons: possessiveness, praise and your daddy kink. “Hobi, I swear to God, if you don't’ stop now you’re not getting any later. And I’ve spent the afternoon charging all the toys.” You warned him. And you were pretty sure you would stay true to your warning. Not 100% sure, but sure enough.

“Can I at least see what you’re wearing underneath?” He squeezed your bum once more, as if checking for the signs of undies.

“What makes you think I’m wearing something underneath this? After all it’s so damn tight.”

“Sweetie… Do you really need to tease me like this! Such a bad girl!” He laughed and at the same time he fixed his pants. Your dress wasn’t the only tight indument at the moment.

You headed for the living room, grabbing your shoes in the process, giving him a glance that invited him to follow you.

“You’re wearing those sandals, aren’t you?” He stared at the box, a pair of stilettos emerging from it, their sparkly strings catching his attention.

“Let me.” He motioned, helping you wear and latch them onto your feet.

“You truly are a vision, ____.” He was kneeling before you, looking at you wide eyed, his sweet smile edged with admiration and pride.

“You sure you don’t want to get rid of some tension before we head there?” He caressed your knee with apprehension. His personal pleasure would just be a minor advantage, what he really wanted was to help you with your nerves, since a couple days before you mentioned how worried you were about attending to such a big event.

“I don’t think I could even possibly enjoy it right now.” You put your hand atop his. “But ask me later, and with the adrenaline of the night and the relaxation of being done with it, I might be very interested.” You smiled, faking coyness.

In that moment his phone rang, probably the driver.

“Then let’s pick up from here later.” He let his hand trail along the naked back of your calf, kissing your hand and helping you up.

You couldn’t wait for the event to end. And for your night to truly begin.

[anglophile-rin]

Soooo I had to go to work as my brain was still processing the MAJESTY of that trailer, bit before I went I def turned it into a million screengrabs, and now you get to hear Thoughts on them.

Okay, so first. That building in the first pic is 100% the building in Five's sunglasses reflection which puts it just down the street from the Dallas Book Depository (where they believe JFK was shot from) and across that park from where JFK was shot. (Building circled in orange second pic, DBD with the arrow, and JFK site circled in white.

This definitely feels like they're trying to either take out the pres, OR take out the guy Taking out the pres.

Oh, also, that's old man Five's scope, if we recall the picket fence he was camped out behind. Right down to the radio strapped to the fence.

Which means, um, Holy shit? Luther and Pogo(??) are the ones in his scope????

Okay, these ones have a bit of a timeline confusion that I can't get my head around yet, so bare with me.

The top two are of "2nd Event," "3rd Event," "4th Event," and a smidge of "5th Event"(2nd, 4th, and 5th presumed based on placement).

The 2nd Event is Allison landing in the 60s. Which 100% fits with our theory that the order of the teaser photos on Insta were landing order, so go team us!!

The 3rd Event is Luther's landing, and we have a date! April 10, 1962. (This is also that part of the vid where Luther hilariously yells holy shit while falling through blue into a dumpster).

The 4th Event is where things get kind of odd? As far as I can read, the date says "November 17, 1963." And it shows Diego landing.

However, it doesn't seem right that Diego could grow THAT hair and THAT beard in....what, the 8 days before the Apocalypse?

Also, the Television he's looking at (in the third picture) presumably when he lands is showing Kennedy's inauguration, which is January 20, 1961. Maybe it's a...rerun? Either way, TUA once again gives me dates and times that do not make sense, and I am not okay with it.

The 5th Event is obvs Vanya landing, looking that magnificent white suit. She seems unconcious and in an alley, probably the one she stumbled out of in that fan video going around, ready to be hit by the love of her life's car.

This one is short. Five is sneaking somewhere, some kind of TV set it looks like, and "Pogo" is written on the blackboard he passes. Maybe Reg took his talking primate onto TV?

This one I just want, because those look like Klaus boots and pants and I want him to bust out the crime fighter moves.

If we could take a moment to throw our minds back to Ben's promo screenshot, it's the same room and position as that top photo here, but with a dude in the ceiling. Allison is also experiencing some floating furniture. Dear GOD let it be Klaus using TK, please funky disco Jesus.... But also very likely Vanya. Sigh.

Can we appreciate Allison and her husband disposing of a goddamn body in a rug while Klaus and Ben chat on their couch in the background? Because I think we all need to.

And, finally, I find it hilarious that they are actually somewhere called the "Tiki Lounge" and that this is the face of a man realizing he is going to be a very poor father.

So, tada! Please, enjoy the fruits of my obsessiveness, I am certain there shall be more to come!

Now With More Ravings!

[seeaddywrite]

not a place, but a feeling

a/n: written for alex manes appreciation week 2020, day 1. i used the theme ‘home can be a person,’ but took a lot of liberties, whoops? thanks as always to @soberqueerinthewild for catching all of my repetition, wacky tenses, & holding my hand through the last 5k words of this fic, haha.

warnings: starts with forlex, but this is very clearly a malex fic & forrest does not end up particularly happy. angst with a happy ending, as per usual. 8k+ wordcount.

                                                                  ________

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Alex mutters to himself, turning the key in his SUV’s ignition for the third time and hoping for a miracle. The engine wheezes, sputters a few times, and finally settles into a high-pitched whine that sets Alex’s teeth on edge. Apparently, the ‘check engine’ light on his dash that morning had been more urgent than he’d expected -- and now, he’s stuck somewhere between Jim Valenti’s old hunting cabin and town. Fantastic. He’d already been running late to meet Forrest thanks to taking way too long to pick an outfit for their first official date, and now he’s over half an hour late.

As if it read his mind, Alex’s phone starts to ring, Forrest’s name flashing across the display. Groaning, Alex accepts the call and tries to crank the engine one more time. The attempt results in a screech and an alarming puff of smoke emerging from beneath the hood. With a bitten-off curse, Alex yanks the key from the ignition and throws the car door open, hastily putting a safe distance between himself and the smoking vehicle. Logic tells him that the smoke isn’t necessarily a precursor to an explosion, or even a fire, but years of military training and instinct are impossible to ignore.

“Hello? Hello? Alex, are you there?”

Alex glances from the still-smoking SUV to the phone in his palm, the source of the tinny-sounding voice calling his name. Frustrated with himself, he smacks a hand against his face and answers, hoping Forrest hasn’t already hung up on him. “Hey, yeah, I’m here. Sorry -- my car doesn’t want to start, and I guess I cranked it one too many times, because the engine just started smoking.”

For a moment, the only thing Alex hears on the other end of the line is blaring music. “I should probably not be relieved that your car blew up, huh?” Forrest asks, a self-deprecating laugh clear even through the pounding bass in the background. “I was starting to think you were standing me up.”

“What? Why would you think that?” Alex asks, putting the call on speaker so he could pull up Guerin’s contact information and start a new text while he listens. There’s no one else he could call at this hour, and he needs to be able to get to base on Monday, one way or the other. Michael would probably be able to fix the SUV, and even if he couldn’t do it overnight, he’d at least get Alex a loaner car for a few days while he did. And, after that, Alex wouldn’t have to worry about something like this happening again anytime soon; he could trust that Michael would actually fix the problem entirely, unlike any other mechanics in Roswell -- or in general, honestly.

My car gave up on me halfway to town. Any chance of some help?

It only occurs to Alex after the message has gone through that he should probably be a little more apprehensive about texting Guerin out of nowhere, but he’s really not. The two of them make a hell of a team, and after spending so much time together unravelling the mysteries of Nora and Tripp, and everything that came after, Alex is more confident than ever that Michael will always be part of his life -- even if it’s not in the way he’d initially hoped it would be. They’re family, whether or not they’re sleeping together, and Alex doesn’t doubt that anymore.

“Well, you weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going to Planet 7,” Forrest is saying, answering Alex’s question about why he would stand him up, and Alex feels guilty for not giving him his full attention. “And I kind of pressured you into it. I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

It’s a fair assumption, Alex supposes. He hadn’t been thrilled with the suggestion of going to Roswell’s only gay bar, even after finding the courage to push his father’s hateful words and judgements out of his mind for long enough to pull Forrest into a kiss in the middle of the Wild Pony. But he’s not the kind of guy to agree to something he really doesn’t want to do for a date, and he’d assumed Forrest would know that -- like Guerin would have. But Forrest is different from Michael; he has no reason to take Alex at his word, lacks the intimate knowledge of who Alex is that Michael has somehow managed to collect through ten years of hook-ups, break ups, and hurt feelings. And that’s not Forrest’s fault -- so Alex needs to learn to communicate better, somehow, if this has any chance of working out.

“I’m still planning on coming,” he promises, looking out at the darkened horizon, visible only because of the moonlight. “Seriously, I would’ve been there already if it weren’t for the fact that my car decided that tonight was the night it was giving up on me. I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”

There’s an audible smile in Forrest’s voice as he responds, and Alex feels vaguely proud of himself for managing to put it there, despite everything. “Okay, awesome. Want me to come get you? It’s late, so I doubt anyone’s going to be able to tow you before morning. And trust me, you don’t need to rough it in the desert overnight to prove what a badass you are. I already know.”

Alex laughs, and opens his mouth to retort -- but his phone dings, signalling an incoming barrage of messages, and Alex opens them with a swipe of his thumb, once again distracted from the phone conversation.

Let me guess. You decided to ignore your check engine light again.

Or was it an oil change you put off for six months?

You realize routine maintenance isn’t actually a suggestion, right? You either get it done, or you end up stranded in the middle of the desert begging for a ride.

On my way now with the tow now. Can you give me anything more specific than halfway to town, or am I supposed to just drive and hope for the best?

Alex snaps a picture of the nearest mile marker with the flash on, and sends it to Guerin with a quick, I plead the 5th. See you soon.

“Hello? Alex! Alex, are you --”

Alex winces guiltily and puts the phone hurriedly back to his ear. “Sorry, sorry, I’m still here. What were you saying?”

Again, all Alex hears for a long moment is the thudding of the bass from whatever stupid pop song the DJ is playing, and he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. He already basically missed their date, and now he’s only half paying attention while Forrest is kind and understanding about it. Alex doesn’t deserve his patience.

“I was asking you where you are. I’ll come get you, and we can still get in a few hours of shitty music and half-off beer,” Forrest reiterates patiently, though Alex can tell he’s starting to reach the end of his reserves of understanding. And, considering the circumstances, Alex doesn’t blame him.

“No, don’t worry about it! That’s pretty far out of your way. I already have a tow truck coming, so I’ll just have them give me a ride into town, and I’ll meet you like we planned.” Alex pauses, reflecting on his words and wondering when, exactly, he’d decided to avoid using Michael’s name… and why. It’s not like Forrest didn’t already know that the two of them were good friends. It’s not like it meant anything, that Alex called Michael to help -- his car broke down, and Michael is a mechanic. None of that added up to anything that he needed to lie to Forrest about.

And yet.

“You found a garage open at this hour in Roswell?” Forrest asked incredulously. “I can’t even get fast food past eight, so you’re going to have to share some of your black market contacts.”

The expectation of a laugh is pretty obvious, so Alex manages a slightly strained chuckle. “Uh, well, I can probably hook you up with a burger at the Crashdown after hours, but that’s about it,” he retorts, even though Liz is long-gone, and the chances of after-hours snacks at the diner are a lot lower without her. “I just called Guerin, tonight. He pretty much runs Sanders’ garage these days, and lives out back, so it’s no big deal for him to come get me.”

Alex opts to ignore the fact that he knows Michael doesn’t usually drop whatever he’s doing to rescue stranded motorists who aren’t smart enough to get their vehicle to a garage when the ‘check engine’ light comes on when he’s not working. That’s just what friends do for each other, and Alex would do the same, if their positions were reversed.

“Oh.” Alex doesn’t know Forrest well enough to read the emotion in the short syllable, but he’s not naive enough to think he sounds pleased. “You two must be pretty good friends if he’s giving up his Friday night plans to come pick you up, huh?”

It seems like a loaded question, so Alex just says, “We’ve known each other a long time,” in response, and glances up as a set of slowing headlights wash over him. Sanders’ tow truck pulls off to the side of the road in front of Alex’s SUV, and Michael waves from the window, familiar curls bouncing from the motion. Alex waves back with a grin.

“He’s pulling up now, actually, so I’m going to get off of here. I’ll give you a call and let you know when I’m five minutes out, if you still want to try to spend some time together tonight?”

Alex watches as Michael hops out of the truck and starts toward him with the usual swagger in his stride. It’s hard to tell what he was doing before he got Alex’s text, because he’s wearing the same ragged jeans and worn jacket that Alex has seen him in a hundred times, but there’s enough volume in his curls to suggest he put some effort into his hair. A date with Maria, maybe? Or hanging out with Isobel, who loved to make fun of his hair if he didn’t put the effort in?

“Yeah, okay,” Forrest says, recapturing Alex’s attention for a minute. “I’ll stay and have a few drinks, and I’ll see you when you get here. Tell Michael I said ‘hey.’”

“Will do,” Alex says, and ends the call just as Michael reaches him, hand extended for the keys.

“So?” he asks, and despite the darkness, Alex knows exactly what the teasing expression on Michael’s face looks like. It’s always the same -- a furrowed brow, a mischievous glint in his eyes, even as he manages to keep his lips from turning up in a too-obvious smile. It’s a look that never ceases to make Alex’s heartbeat speed up, even now, when they’ve moved past any real chance of romantic reconciliation. “Which one was it? Check engine light or skipped oil change?”

Alex rolls his eyes, but tosses his keys into Michael’s open palm. “Look, it’s not my fault that the check engine light comes on when you need an oil change -- who wouldn’t assume that’s the problem and keep driving?” They’ve had this argument before; Alex always takes his car to Michael when something goes wrong, and Michael always has to point out that Alex sucks at taking care of an engine. At this point, Alex would almost be disappointed if the mocking stopped.

Michael shakes his head in faux disappointment and disappears to pop the hood, leaving Alex to follow behind and watch. Another wave of smoke wafts into the night sky when the hood opens, and Michael sends Alex a disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Seriously? How many times did you try to start it when it made the grinding noise? A hundred? This would’ve taken me two minutes to fix if you hadn’t kept pushing it.” He’s pulled a flashlight from somewhere and is shining the beam down into the guts of the SUV, staring at what, to Alex, looks like a bunch of hoses, wires, and smoke.

“Sorry,” Alex says sheepishly. “Don’t worry about it tonight if it’s going to take a while -- I’m sure you had plans. We can just tow it back to town and worry about it again on Monday, during actual working hours.”

There’s a clank and a thud, and another plume of smoke curls up from the engine. Michael groans, and straightens up to slam the hood closed. “Yeah, okay, I give up. Let’s just get it on the truck and I’ll figure out what you did to it when I can actually see what I’m doing.” They both take a few steps back, and Michael turns, looking down the silent road for a minute before glancing back at Alex. “I’m going to cheat, since there’s no one else around. You can just get in the truck if you want. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Michael doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s staring intensely at the SUV. After a moment, with a slide of gravel and the squeal of tires, the SUV moves up the ramp on its own. There’s a thud as the connections fasten under the guidance of Michael’s metaphysical hands, and a few minutes later, they’re on their way back into Roswell.

For once, the silence between them isn’t loaded with things they should have said. Alex is reclined in the seat, relaxed and comfortable with someone he trusts driving -- but the ease of the atmosphere evaporates quickly when Michael asks, “So where am I dropping you? Do you need a ride back out to your place?”

It shouldn’t be this hard to tell Michael that he’s meeting Forrest. They haven’t been together in a long time, if they ever really even were -- and Michael has Maria. It’s not like he’s going to be upset. But the words feel stuck in Alex’s throat as he opens his mouth to answer, and his stomach squirms unpleasantly. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m actually … meeting someone. At Planet 7.” His eyes are locked on the road straight ahead, but Alex can’t help himself; he glances at Michael through his periphery to check for a reaction.

Michael’s shoulders have lost their comfortable slouch, and his spine is rigid. He obviously still cares about who Alex is spending his time with -- but Alex isn’t going to apologize. They’re both moving on, and they need to remember that.

“Yeah,” Michael says finally. “I kind of guessed. You’re pretty dressed up for a night of snacks in front of the TV.”

Alex glances down at himself, taking in the dark-wash jeans and button-up shirt he’d selected for the occasion. “I guess so,” he agrees, sighing. “Uh, what were you doing with your night, before you were rudely interrupted by my smoking engine?” It’s not the most graceful subject change, but Alex doesn’t really care as long as they’re away from the topic of Forrest.

Michael snorts. “Trust me, I was relieved you called -- it’s my night to babysit Max and make sure he doesn’t take off after Liz. Towing a car is way more exciting than watching him boohoo into his beer.”

“I’m surprised you’re not glued to Maria’s side, since she just got out of the hospital.” Alex had only been trying to keep the conversation moving steadily away from his own date that night; he doesn’t expect Michael to go rigid in response. He blinks, turning in the passenger seat to get a better look at Michael’s expression, but he’s gone blank.

“Maria and I are over.” The answer, when it comes, is terse and definitely over-simplified, but Alex knows better than to ask for details. If Michael wanted to share, he would have already, and while friends might have license to pry into each other’s personal life, Alex doesn’t want Michael doing the same in return, so he stays quiet aside from a soft, “I’m sorry.”

The drive loses the easy sense of camaraderie after that. Alex spends the next twenty minutes into town fighting with a small, cruel voice in the back of his head that keeps whispering celebratory words about Michael’s break-up. They’re friends now. Friends don’t think like that, but even after a decade of separation, it’s hard not to think of Michael as more than a friend. Alex hopes that he just needs some practice; otherwise, none of this is going to end well.

Planet 7 isn’t exactly in the middle of town, but Michael finds it without any direction. Alex slides out of the passenger seat when he sees Forrest coming toward them, smiling, and glances back at Michael. “Thanks for the help, Guerin,” he says earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Michael nods, his expression still tense, though Alex thinks that’s less about his break-up and more about Forrest, now. “No problem. If you need a ride home, just let me know.”

Forrest has reached them by this point; one of his arms falls over Alex’s shoulders, and Alex only startles for a moment before relaxing again when he realizes who’s touching him. Michael’s eyes narrow slightly, but not enough to be noticeable to someone who isn’t really looking.

“That won’t be necessary,” Forrest tells Michael pleasantly, though he’s standing closer than he ever has before when they aren’t joined at the mouth. Alex sighs inwardly -- this is what he’d been trying to avoid. He doesn’t want Forrest thinking he needs to compete with Michael. Competition and jealousy in a relationship never ends well, and Alex wants one good thing in his life. Surely that’s not too much to ask? “I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece. Thanks for bringing him though, Alien Dude!”

Michael nods at Forrest, then glances back at Alex, an unreadable expression in his dark gaze. “I’ll call you tomorrow about the SUV,” he promises. “It might take me a couple of hours, but I’ll get it up and running for you by Monday. You need to be on base by six, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Guerin -- I owe you one.” Really, he’s lost track of who’s one-upping who when it comes to favors, but Alex isn’t interested in keeping score, and he doesn’t think Michael cares much, either.

Michael nods at them one more time, his eyes lingering on Alex’s face for long enough to make him start to squirm, and then he’s gone, disappearing in a plume of exhaust and the groan of overworked machinery, leaving Alex and Forrest staring after his his taillights and Alex feeling strangely bereft.

“All right,” Forrest says, his voice twice as cheerful as it had been only a moment ago. “Let’s get the night started, shall we? You missed out on Happy Hour, but I scored you a feather boa anyway.”

Alex laughs, letting the teasing ease him back from thinking about Michael and into focusing on Forrest and their plans. This is the path he’d chosen, the person he’d chosen. He’s never going to give up on being a part of Michael’s life, and he’ll protect the aliens and their secret with everything he has in him to make up for what his family did to theirs. But Michael can be his family without being his lover, and Alex needs to stop confusing the two before he winds up heartbroken and alone all over again.

Sometimes, love just isn’t enough. Cosmic doesn’t mean much without commitment, without trust, and there are too many complicated feelings between Alex and Michael to make a go of it. So he smiles, leans into Forrest’s side, and allows himself to be led into Planet 7 with a warm arm draped over his shoulders.

*******

Despite the anxiety leading up to their first few dates, being with Forrest turns out to be surprisingly easy. He’s smart and funny, quick with a witty comment or self-deprecating joke, and never pushes Alex further than he’s willing to be pushed. He understands Alex’s service background and love of writing, even if music isn’t his preferred medium, and encourages Alex to dress and act in a way that makes him feel true to himself. Alex smiles a lot around him, and laughs, and starting their relationship feels like sliding into an old, worn jacket -- soft and comfortable, without any real friction.

“So, basically, you’re bored,” Maria summarizes, after Alex finishes telling her about how smoothly things are going. They’re in the Wild Pony just after opening, Maria in her usual position behind the bar, Alex sitting on a stool opposite. She’s only been back to work for a few weeks after her stint in the hospital, but there’s no sign of weakness in the way she runs her business -- or the way she’s looking at him now.

“What? No! That’s not what I mean,” Alex argues, shaking his head quickly. “I said things are comfortable between us. That doesn’t mean I’m bored!”

Maria raised an eyebrow, her brightly-painted fingernails tapping against the bar. She’s dressed fairly conservatively tonigh in a flannel shirt and a pair of form-fitting jeans, but her nails are painted in pastels, a minor homage to her usual style. “Sweetie, you’ve been dating for what, two weeks? Relationships that new aren’t supposed to be easy, and definitely not comfortable. Two weeks in is like the honeymoon! You’re supposed to want to spend every waking moment together, to have to fight to keep your hands off of each other -- and instead of telling me about how hot he makes you, you’re comparing him to an old coat.” Skepticism drips from her words, and Alex crosses his arms over his chest and stares back at her in return annoyance.

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, and winces inwardly at the defensive tone.

While it’s true that Alex hasn’t exactly had to fight to keep his hands off of Forrest, he hasn’t been fully honest about them agreeing to take their sexual relationship slowly. Alex isn’t a prude, and it’s not that Forrest isn’t exactly his type. He’s just been unsure about taking that next step. Every time their dates end up at Forrest’s place -- and it’s honestly just a coincidence that Forrest has never stayed at Alex’s. It’s just always worked out that way; Alex isn’t trying to keep him out of his personal space -- and their goodbye turns into a little more than kiss, there’s always something holding Alex back from letting the moment continue. Forrest is great about it, and smiles when Alex pulls away, but after four dates and four attempts at moving onto second base, Alex can tell he’s starting to get frustrated.

Honestly, so is Alex. He doesn’t know why he’s so reticent to sleep with his boyfriend. Forrest has always been embarrassingly up front about finding Alex sexy, and he’s never so much as blinked at the realities of Alex’s amputation or scars -- but even so, Alex can’t do it. He’s just not ready.

But he’ll be damned if he admits any of that to Maria. Alex has no desire to know how she’d read into that information whatsoever.

“Uh-huh, right. Slow.” Maria pours a shot of whiskey into two glasses and slides one across the bartop to him, eyebrows raised in challenge, and Alex makes a face, but clinks his shot glass against Maria’s and knocks it back. “Okay, great. Are you drunk enough to tell me the truth now, or --”

“Whoa, shots before the sun goes down? And here I thought I was the town drunk.”

When Alex turns, he finds himself face-to-face with a smirking Michael Guerin. He’s wearing his usual jeans and open-collared shirt, black cowboy hat tipped forward on his head, and he’s obviously trying to act nonchalant. But Alex knows that he’s been avoiding Maria ever since she broke up with him -- Maria had been complaining about it half an hour ago. With that in mind, he looks at Michael again, and sees the tense lines around his eyes and the sharp edges of his smile.

“I think I’ve got a ways to go before I’m even tipsy,” Alex retorts, shaking his head in bemusement. “But you’re welcome to join us and see how many shots it takes.” In the weeks since their last meeting, it’s gotten easier to be around Michael without worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing. They’ve relaxed back into their usual banter, supported by genuine care for each other, and Alex isn’t spending every second of every interaction analyzing microexpressions anymore. It’s a nice change, and he’s planning on doing whatever he can to make sure it sticks around this time.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could,” Michael groans, and gestures over one shoulder with his thumb. Alex follows the movement and finds Isobel and Max Evans settling into a table at the back of the bar. Isobel’s perfectly-lined eyes are rolling in what can only be exasperation, and Max just looks miserable. There are bags beneath his eyes, and his hair and beard have seen better days, while Isobel is her usual immaculate self in floral dress with a flowing skirt and an updo. “Iz decided she’s had enough of Max’s moping and wants to get him laid.”

The disbelieving noise that escapes from Alex’s throat really isn’t a reflection on Max’s looks -- he has no doubt that, if his heart were in it, the defacto leader of Michael’s little family could find someone to take home with him. But the guy is clearly miserable and heartbroken over Liz’s departure, still. There’s no way Isobel’s going to convince him to pick anyone up tonight, no matter how many beautiful women she parades past the table.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Michael says, shaking his head. “I told her she’s crazy. Max has been pining over Liz for longer than he’s known how to speak in complete sentences. There’s no way he’s moving on that easy -- but you know how Isobel is.” He shrugs, a what can you do? sort of gesture, and Alex is stopped from answering by Maria clearing her throat pointedly from behind the bar.

Michael glances her way, his shoulders tensing for a second, but his smile is only slightly strained. “‘Sup, Deluca?” he asks. “I need three of whatever you’ve got on tap.” The interaction is wholly impersonal, and Alex almost winces for Maria, who definitely didn’t miss the cool tone in Michael’s voice as he spoke to her. Obviously, he’s still upset about the break-up, or at least holding onto some hard feelings. It’s not like Alex can blame him either, as much as he wants to be able to take Maria’s side, or at least understand her perspective. But Alex knows what it’s like to love Michael Guerin, and he knows what it’s like to lose him, and he can’t understand why Maria would put herself through that if she didn’t have to. She hasn’t really explained herself, either, to Michael or to Alex, so it’s almost impossible to empathize.

“You should come hang out,” Michael invites, when Maria turns away to get his drinks. “There’s already a crowd, so she’s going to be too busy to chat soon.” He’s right; the Pony has filled up while Maria grilled him on Forrest, and there’s already a line forming at the bar. For now, the second bartender has it covered, but it won’t be long before Maria will have to devote her full attention to running drinks. “You get company, I have someone to buffer and maybe stop me from killing one of my siblings . . . it’s a win-win situation, really.”

Alex chuckles, and nods his easy agreement. He’s not entirely sure how he feels about Max Evans after what he did to Flint -- it’s not like he hadn’t had a good reason to want the man dead, considering what he’d done, but despite all of his sins, Flint is still Alex’s brother. But it’s hard to look at the guy moping in a bar full of people and see a cold-blooded killer, and Alex wants to like Max. Plus, Isobel is always good for a laugh and at least one ridiculous story, and Alex never needs much of an excuse to spend time with Michael. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “But I’m telling you, if Max starts crying into his cup, I’m out of there.”

“Deal,” Michael agrees with a laugh. He heads back to the table with Isobel and Max, his body language getting looser the further he gets from Maria. Alex wonders if he realizes how much more relaxed he seems as he rejoins Max and Isobel -- before Max’s death, that was the last word he would have used to describe Michael in his presence, but now, it’s like something has clicked between them, and Guerin is clearly most comfortable with his family.

Alex tries not to hope that extends to him.

“He’s still giving you the cold shoulder, huh?” Alex asks, once Michael is out of earshot. He’ll go join them in a minute, after he has a chance to say goodbye to Maria and try, one more time, to figure out why she’d ended a relationship that seemed to make her genuinely happy.

Sighing, Maria nods. “Guess so. I was hoping that it’d get better, once he finally started coming back to the Pony, but --” she waves a hand in Guerin’s vague direction, the golden bangles on her wrist clacking together. “I get a ‘hey, how are you?’ and a ‘I’ll take a beer, please,’ and that’s about it. He doesn’t even try to get out of paying anymore, and I never thought I’d be bummed about that.” Her nose wrinkles, and Maria hunches forward over her elbows on the bar, looking run down. “I miss him, you know?”

Alex knows. Intimately. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken up with him?” he suggests leadingly, hoping that he’ll get a reason without having to ask, explicitly, why Maria had ended things. The suggestion sends a brief shock of something through his chest, but Alex doesn’t let himself stop to analyze it.

Maria rolls her eyes, but there’s a lingering sadness in them that Alex could pick up from across town. He knows Maria too well to fall for the act she’s putting on, and they both know it. “I had to,” she says finally, the words slow enough that Alex can tell she’s thinking it through even as she answers. “I didn’t want to, but—“ The sentence hangs in the air between them, but Maria doesn’t finish; instead, she shrugs. “I didn’t doubt that he loved me, you know. That wasn’t it— I know he thinks it was. But when you went missing, he just... didn’t think. Didn’t stop to ask for help, or wonder what he was walking into. He just started off on this crusade to get you back, all on his own.”

Alex opens his mouth, ready to tell her that Michael would have done the same for her, and that kind of recklessness probably isn’t a healthy, positive trait in a stable relationship, but Maria silences him with a look.

“Every time I called, every time I needed him— it wasn’t like that. He was always there, he always showed up for me— I’m not complaining! But Michael never jumped without looking, without thinking first, when it came to me. He was never desperate, or past reason, you know? He always managed to keep his secrets, or protect his family while he was saving me. But he didn’t do that when it came to you. Michael thought you were in real, mortal danger, and his first instinct was to do whatever was necessary to save you, and screw whoever else it might hurt.”

What the hell is he supposed to say to that? He sees where Maria is going with her explanation, now, and he’s not proud of the small, smug feeling hiding beneath the incredulity growing under his breastbone. “Maria, that’s not --”

“And,” Maria interrupts, raising her voice as if determined to be heard, whether Alex wants to listen or not. “As stupid as it sounds, considering the sci-fi horror movie our lives have become, I want someone to be that desperate at the thought of losing me.” Maria laughs, then, a short, self-deprecating sound. “I don’t want to play second-fiddle to the one great love of his life, Alex. As much as I love him, as much as I believe he loves me, dating isn’t fair for either of us.”

Alex stares at her, his lips parted as he flounders for the right words. He’s torn between trying to convince her that she’s wrong, that he and Michael are doing well at being friends and that it’s enough, and telling her that maybe she’s right, that it was never going to work out, and he wants her to be happy.

“That’s not— he’s not—“ Alex can’t argue, really. He knows, deep down, in the same part of his subconscious that knows the sky is blue and the grass is green, that Michael would do anything for him, and Alex would do the same in return. Even when they couldn’t look at each other without wanting to scream or cry, they’d always done their best to protect one another, and Alex doesn’t think that’s ever going to change. He’d promised Michael, once, that he’d keep him safe from his family, from the government, and Alex isn’t going to go back on his word on the off-chance that Michael and Maria might manage to work things out.

“Look, Maria,” he says finally. “Helena asked him to build a weapon of mass destruction.” The words feel the words like they’re being torn from his throat, but Alex perseveres. “And he did it. If she’d wanted him to build a bomb that could kill everyone in town, or more— he really might have done it, no matter who got hurt, just like you said.” Another full shot glass appears in front of him when he pauses, and Alex throws it back without a second thought, hoping the liquor will ease the ache caused by reliving everything that’s gone wrong with Guerin. “And how am I supposed to live with that? Knowing what he might do? What I could do, if our roles got reversed?”

The question is as good as admitting that Alex still has feelings for Michael, and he knows it. Hiding things, especially feelings, from Maria DeLuca has always been all but impossible, and this time, she’d barely had to give him a nudge before he spilled his guts. Damn it. How is he supposed to go over and drink with Michael and his family now?

“See? The fact that you didn’t even try to deny it is pretty telling, Alex,” Maria says, her lips quirked at the corners. “Instead, you immediately jump to how dangerous the lengths you’d go to for each other are. And yeah, maybe it’s a bad idea for you to be together -- I don’t know. That’s for you two to figure out.” Soft hands tighten around his. “But I had to make a choice for myself, too, and now I’m sure I made the right one.”

The noises of the bar and growing crowd around them fill the silence until Alex squeezes Maria’s hands and moves to pull back to say goodbye, before Guerin comes back to ask what’s taking so long -- the last thing either of them need is for Michael to overhear this conversation. But Maria’s grip tightens instead of releasing, and when Alex glances up at her, eyebrow raised in question, she’s staring at him with a strange intensity that tells him he really, really doesn’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say next.

“Don’t you think that Forrest should have a chance to make that choice?” she asks, and Alex yanks his hands free as he slides down from the barstool, more than ready to tell Maria to have a good night and leave. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Alex, but dating him is no different than Michael dating me. And--”

“And what, Maria?” Alex demands sharply. “You want me to tell you that I’m not sure about Forrest? You want me to admit there are times when we’re together that I have to remind myself that he’s not Michael, and I can’t expect him to know stupid things like the fact that I never remember to get a freaking oil change? Yeah, okay! I’ve been in love with Michael since I was seventeen. I can’t just flip a switch and stop feeling that way, even if it’s the right thing to do!”

Flustered at the sudden deluge of feeling and irritated by Maria’s pushing, Alex barely registers when Maria’s gaze jerks to one side and widens. “Alex -”

But he’s been holding back for weeks, months, years of watching Michael with other people and trying to open himself up to dating, too, and Alex isn’t ready to stop talking now that he’s started. So he ploughs forward, ignoring her interruption. “But you can’t compare yourself with Forrest, either -- it’s not the same. We’re dating! It’s fun, but he’s not in love with me. It’s not --”

“Alex!”

“Oh, no, don’t interrupt him on my account.”

Fuck. Like he was free-falling from a plane without the guarantee of a parachute, Alex’s stomach sinks and flips.

Forrest.

Alex spins around to find the guy he’s supposed to be dating standing less than a foot away, back and to Alex’s right, just a little in front of the crowd that now stretches from the entrance to the bar itself. Horror and guilt bloom in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Alex struggles to make his mouth form words, his mind spinning as he tries to put together an explanation for whatever Forrest had just heard -- and what had he heard? How long has he been standing there? Alex honestly has no fucking clue, and the horrified, apologetic expression on Maria’s face suggests that she doesn’t, either. “I --” Alex shakes his head and forces a smile on his face. He can only hope it doesn’t look too fake. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” he says, biting his lower lip.

Both of Forrest’s eyebrows lift high enough that they disappear into his hairline. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty obvious,” he drawls, arms crossed defensively over his chest. Alex’s heartbeat speeds as the uncomfortable moment stretches between them, and for once, he’s grateful when someone drops a quarter in the jukebox and starts blaring an old country song at top volume. It cuts through the awkwardness a little, at least. “I came to meet a couple of friends who wanted to talk about plans to expand Open Mic night -- so, imagine my surprise when I came over here and heard the guy I’m dating talking about still being in love with his ex.”

Alex grips the edge of the bar, hard, and looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he says quietly, the words barely audible over the din of the bar. “Can we maybe go somewhere to talk about this? I know I owe you an explanation, and I didn’t mean to --”

But Forrest shakes his head before he can even finish the sentence, lips thin and eyes hard. “Look,” he says, and the timbre of his voice matches the look in his eyes. “We haven’t been dating long, and you really don’t owe me an explanation. I’ve known you have history with Guerin since we met at the barn, and it’s not like I haven’t had plenty of clues since then that you’re not over him.” He runs fingers through his vibrantly blue hair, looking away from Alex while his jaw clenches and unclenches. When his gaze meets Alex’s again, the anger is still obvious, but this time, resignation is, too. “I mean, come on. You called him to come pick you up for our first date, when I could have come to get you just as easily after the car died. And last week, when you were talking to Liz in the car? You should have seen the way your face lit up when you started telling her about how he’s thinking about going to college or whatever. And that song -- fuck. How did I miss that the song was about him?”

Forrest paces in a small circuit around the barstools in their immediate area, and Alex remains silent, unable to say or do anything to defend himself or correct Forrest -- because everything he’s said is true. Alex may not have realized it, and he’d truly gone into this relationship with the best of intentions, but he’d never really wanted Forrest. He’d liked the way he felt with Forrest, enjoyed being flirted with and pushed out of the comfort zone he’d hidden within for so long, and Alex had mistaken liking Forrest’s company for romantic feelings. And all the while, he’d been trying to push away real romantic feelings for Guerin, like he’d been doing for the last decade of his life.

God, he’s such an asshole.

“So. Here it is. I’m going to go home, get drunk, and hate you for a while. You’re going to leave me alone. And then, in a few months when I can look at you without wanting to either yell or cry, we’re going to be friends. Because there aren’t enough gay guys in Roswell, and I think we could both use a friend who gets it.”

It’s such a Forrest way of breaking up with Alex that he almost laughs. It didn’t seem like anything could ruffle Forrest’s feathers -- it had been one of the things that drew Alex to him from the start. That constant calm, the feeling that no matter how chaotic and out of control Alex got, Forrest would be steady. But a desire for control, or something easy, isn’t a good enough reason to be with someone, not when Alex has always thrived in high-pressure situations, has always sought out the adrenaline rush. Maybe it’s a side effect of his ruined childhood, but Alex has always preferred the chaos of his time with Michael to anything else.

Alex swallows, his smile small and a little sad when he nods at Forrest. “Okay. I can do that. But seriously, I really am sorry. I really thought that I could move on, and I wanted to try with you because you always made me feel so brave.”

Forrest sucks in a breath, shakes his head again, and disappears into the crowd, headed toward the exit.

Alex doesn’t go after him.

******

It takes Michael about twenty minutes to find him after Alex leaves the Wild Pony. He’d considered sticking around and drinking until the shame and guilt melted away into an alcoholic haze, but ultimately, Alex has enough problems without adding alcoholism to the list. So he’d said goodnight to a still-apologetic Maria, avoided the stares and whispers that came from being dumped very publicly in a small, gossip-mongering town, and slipped out into the street.

He walks home, thankful for the house he bought that’s only a mile or so from the Wild Pony and the fact that he’s able to walk for a mile without the pinching and aching his old prosthetic had caused. He’ll be sore tomorrow, probably, but it’s worth the night air and the chance to clear his head. The confrontation with Forrest had been so public that Alex is feeling more embarrassed than guilty, at this point, but he knows that when that dies down, he’ll be angry with himself for hurting someone that way. No, Forrest hadn’t been in love with him, but that didn’t excuse the way Alex had treated him -- and he’s going to have to deal with that, somehow.

“You know, I’m pretty sure normal people don’t walk down abandoned alleys at this hour,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and instead of jumping at the unexpected presence, Alex lets go of the tension he hadn’t known he was carrying. Michael Guerin’s voice has always meant security, to Alex, even when it wasn’t guaranteed.

“Good thing neither of us are normal people,” Alex shoots back, stopping to wait for Michael to catch up. When they’re shoulder to shoulder, he starts forward again, falling into step with Guerin without even thinking about it. “I thought you’d still be at the Pony-- it’s awfully early, if you’re trying to keep that town drunk title.”

Michael huffs a laugh. “What do you mean? They ended the night with a floor show, so I figured the bar was closing.” He should probably be offended by the joke, Alex thinks, or at the very least embarrassed that Michael most likely overheard everything Forrest said, but he’s not. Instead, he’s just glad that Michael cared enough to chase after him, even now.

They walk in silence for a while longer before they arrive at the fence around Alex’s yard. He opens it with his key and gestures Michael inside -- he’s come this far, after all, and he isn’t trying to make an excuse to leave. Alex kills the security system and leads the way into the kitchen, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket as he goes. “You want coffee?” he asks, heading straight for the coffee pot that’s served him well for the last several years.

Michael shrugs. “Sure, if you’re making it anyway.” He leans against the wall of cabinets a foot or so away from where Alex is measuring out coffee grounds, one foot propped casually behind him, arms hanging loose at his sides, and Alex can feel the weight of his stare as he flips the power switch on the coffee pot. But neither of them say anything, and the anticipation of the moment when someone finally breaks is enough to make Alex’s pulse speed up.

“So, are we going to talk about this, or --?” Unsurprisingly, Guerin is the first one to give in and speak.

Alex turns to face him properly, fidgeting with the bottom of his henley as he does. “Do you want to?”

It’s a fair question. Every time Alex has tried to talk to Guerin about their relationship, about the chance of moving forward, Michael’s been the one to say ‘no,’ or to walk away, and Alex doesn’t know if he’s brave enough to try again without some reassurance that this time will be different. He doesn’t mind fighting for Michael, doesn’t mind protecting him and loving him from a distance, if that’s what he needs, but there’s a limit to the number of times he can put himself on the line and be vulnerable only to have it thrown back in his face.

There’s a beat of silence, but ultimately, Michael nods. “Last time we talked about this, I couldn’t unravel what your father did to my mother from you and me,” he says quietly, his grease-stained fingers drumming idly on his own arms. “And I needed to know if I could find something -- someone -- who didn’t have the same power over me that you always have. Being with you has always made me feel like I’m in free fall, and I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t about to be a fiery crash landing.”

It hurts more than Alex expected, to hear that, but he knows he’s given Michael reason to worry. “Yeah,” he sighs, flipping the coffee pot off when the light comes on, signalling that it’s done brewing. “Is that still how you feel now?” If the answer is ‘yes,’ Alex doesn’t know where this conversation will lead, but he needs to know either way.

“Alex, I’m pretty sure I’m always going to feel out of control when I’m around you,” Michael says bluntly, taking a step forward, his gaze intent on Alex’s face. “You and me, we’ve never been easy, and my bet is that if we try this, we’re going to have to put some effort in to make it work -- but my mom never got the chance to be with Tripp. She had a lot more reasons than I do to be afraid, or to run in the other direction, and she didn’t, because she knew that love was worth it.”

Reading Tripp’s journal had been an emotional experience for all involved, but Alex wonders if he missed Michael having this revelation that day. He’d been caught up in his own thoughts, his own regrets for himself and his father, and the people they might have been if Tripp survived, so he supposes it’s possible.

“I don’t want to spend any more time wondering if we can be happy together,” Michael continues, suddenly close enough that Alex can feel his breath against his face. As usual, his mere proximity makes Alex’s cheeks feel warm and his stomach feel tight. He couldn’t speak now, even if he wanted to interrupt. “I don’t want to wake up every day for the rest of my life with the same hollow feeling in my gut when I realize you’re not in bed beside me. I don’t want to watch you date anymore assholes who make you smile, and I -- fuck, I want to be able to remind you to get your damn car serviced so you don’t end up stranded on the side of the road!”

Alex’s laugh is a little wet, and he’s reaching out to touch Michael’s stubbled cheek before his mind registers the action. He’s utterly overwhelmed with Michael’s admission, blown away by the honesty and the affection and the care, and God, he wants. He aches for Michael in that moment like he’d spent the better part of a decade aching for him in another part of the world, homesick for a person who wasn’t his anymore, and Alex wants to reclaim that home now more than ever.

Michael swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively, and continues, “I still can’t look away, Alex. And it hasn’t been our time, but now -- now I think it could be. If you still want to try this with me.”

This time, Alex’s laugh is incredulous. “I thought you heard what Forrest said at the bar,” he says, his expression impossibly fond as he looks back at Michael. “I’m in love with you. And I’m done running.”

The impulse to do it again will come back, he knows. Alex’s spent his entire adult life running, in some way or another, and that’s not going to vanish overnight because he has Michael. But he wants to stay, now. He wants to make a home with the man in front of him, wants to tie their lives together in every conceivable way and spend the rest of his days protecting Michael and making him happy. And that’s a pretty solid foundation on which to build.

Michael’s smile is wide and earnest in a way Alex has so rarely seen, and he drinks it in, promising himself that he’s going to take every opportunity to make Michael smile that way in the future.

And then, without overthinking, without worrying about what happens next, Alex closes the remaining distance between their bodies and seals their lips together in a hard, affirming kiss. Michael’s arms close around him, and Alex allows himself to melt into the warm, strong chest in front of him, content in the knowledge that Michael won’t let him fall.

For the first time since he went to war at eighteen, Alex Manes is officially home.

[meliakim]

Purple Seokjinie

Seokjin dyes his hair purple for Mun’s birthday.

*Mun’s POV*

“Oh my gosh, just give me a moment!!!” I said, trying to catch my breath after laughing so hard at Namjoon singing a karaoke song… er… rather, shouting it. Hobi and I were about to do a duet together, so I tried to compose myself. As soon as the music to our song started playing, I broke down laughing again, causing everyone to laugh with me. “I think Mun-ah must’ve had too much sugar tonight!” Taehyung commented, looking over at the giant birthday cookie that we had instead of cake.

I never liked making a big deal of my birthdays, but that is certainly not the case when it comes to my boyfriend. When my birthday came around two years ago, they were all in the middle of their Wings world tour, so I spent it alone… Seokjinie ended up video calling me after their concert that day, and we talked for hours, even though we weren’t dating at that time. I never bothered to tell him what day my birthday was, so Min must’ve told him about it.

Last year, Seokjinie got his brother to reserve his entire restaurant for us to have a party. All the members came, of course, as did Seokjinie’s family. We ate so much food that night and just had a great time being together. A couple days after that, Seokjinie released a cover of the song “Autumn Outside the Post Office,” which was secretly dedicated to me. This year we were in Busan, preparing for their 5th muster. I wasn’t sure if I was going to go with them on this trip, but Seokjinie insisted to the staff that I come, especially since it was around my birthday.

Even with being out of our hometown, Seokjinie still managed to make my birthday a special one. After their rehearsal the night before my birthday, Seokjinie, with the help of some of the staffs, went out and bought all my favorite foods as takeout. The party started as soon as it was midnight. He set up all the food in his hotel room, including a giant cookie instead of a cake, since I like cookies much better. He also somehow got his hands on a karaoke machine, so we had been singing for probably a couple hours at this point, and the later it got, the more I found things to be funny.

“Either she’s had too much sugar, or she’s just sleep deprived!” Jimin said with a laugh, trying not to move too much, as Min had reached the point of sleep deprivation and was fast asleep with her head resting in her boyfriend's lap. Seokjinie stood up and noticed that Min had passed out, and that Yoongi and Jungkook were about to fall asleep as well. “Ok, maybe we should end the party before anyone else falls asleep!” he said with a laugh, kicking JK gently as he laid on the floor. “That’s a good idea,” I said, getting up from my seat on his bed.

“Happy birthday again, Mun!!!” each member greeted me with a hug on their way out. “Thank you for celebrating the first few hours of it with me!!” I said. Jimin was the last to leave, carrying my sleeping sister in his arms bridal- style. “Here’s our room key,” I said, slipping it into one of his hands so he could tuck my sister in her bed in our room. “Happy birthday, Mun!” he whispered before heading out of Seokjinie’s room so that there were only two of us remaining. As I turned to Seokjinie, I saw him holding a small, wrapped gift.

“Here’s your first gift,” he said, sitting down on the bed. I sat down next to him and took it, gently unwrapping it. I smiled widely when I saw the 5x5 canvas with our two avatars from Animal Crossing on it, sitting side-by-side on what I guessed was a bench, though it honestly just looked like a brown blob. The grass was also messily painted and the sun and clouds in the sky were crooked. The two characters, however, were painted perfectly and looked like they came right out of the game.

“Aww, look it’s us!!!” I said cutely as I continued to study the painting. “I wanted to paint the whole thing, but after I finished the background, I decided I at least wanted our characters to look good, so I got Jungkook-ah to paint them for me,” he said with a laugh, laying back on the bed with his head propped up on his elbow. “And wait… are these the outfits we wore when we played Animal Crossing for the first time together?” I suddenly realized, looking back at him. He nodded and gave a satisfied smile. “Ah, you remembered!! That was the start of our online gaming together,” he said, sitting back up and facing me.

“It’s perfect, Seokjinie, thank you so much,” I said, leaning over towards him. He met me halfway and kissed me gently, resting his hand on the back of my neck as he did so. “I love you, Mun-ah,” he said afterwards, shaking his head while he said it, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. “I love you too,” I replied before leaning in and giving him one more kiss, which was interrupted by my urge to yawn. “You need to go get some sleep,” Seokjinie said, standing up and pulling me up with him.

“I have a full schedule of things for us to do tomorrow… or today rather,” he added, looking down at his invisible watch. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, getting on my tippy toes and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Good night, Seokjinie! Thank you again for everything,” I said as I hugged him. He kissed my cheek and hugged me back. “Good night, my Mun,” he said sweetly before we both let go and parted ways. When I got back to my room, I was unsurprised to find Min fast asleep in our bed. I was already in my PJs, so I slipped into the bed beside her and turned off the light, falling asleep almost immediately.

He had told me that he would come by my hotel room the next morning at around 9, and then we would go out for breakfast. I was up before then, as was Min. I showered and put on a large pink shirt and overalls, completing my look with my usual pair of Converse. “You look cute!! What are you guys doing today?” Min asked me after I had gotten dressed. “I really have no idea… but I guess I’m going to find out!” I said, sitting down on the bed and checking my messages. “I can’t wait to hear all about it later!” she said, heading out the door, as she was going to meet Jimin for their own day out.

After a few minutes of reading and responding to birthday messages, I heard a knock on the door and opened it to find Seokjinie. He was dressed in a large pink shirt, skinny jeans, wire-framed glasses, and black converse, matching me like he had planned. The first thing I noticed though was his hair. It was styled back so that I could see his full face, but more importantly... IT WAS PURPLE. I grabbed his arm as I stared at him and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Kim Seokjin!!!!” I said excitedly, putting my hands on his shoulders and forcing him to squat so we were at eye-level. I tilted his head at every angle as I studied his hair, smiling like an idiot the whole time. “When did you even have time to go to the hairdresser??” I asked, still so captivated by the sight of purple Seokjinie. He stood up straight and looked at himself in the mirror. “I dyed it myself last night… you can’t tell by how uneven it is?” he asked as he ruffled his hair slightly with his hands.

“No!! It literally looks so good, oh my goodness, I’m in love!!” I said with a laugh. He turned towards me with his dramatic “I’m so handsome” face as I continued to fangirl over him. He broke character when he saw how cute I was being and laughed. “Aish, Mun-ah! I’m so glad you like it! It’s your second gift,” he said. “Have the producers seen it yet??” I asked, knowing full-well that it was against the rules for the boys to cut or dye their own hair.

“They haven’t yet, but it’s not like they can fire me… the worst they can do is dye it a different color, but they will probably let me keep it since it looks so good,” he said, looking at his hair in the mirror again. “It really does though!” I agreed, hugging his waist from behind and peering around his wide shoulders so I could see him through the mirror. He smiled as he rotated himself in my arms so that he was now facing me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking down at me. “Y’know, if they do let me keep it, the media is going to assume I dyed it purple for ARMY… just remember that I dyed it for you, since it’s your favorite color,” he said, reassuringly.

He began leaning down, as if to kiss me, but I teasingly stopped his lips with my hand, causing him to look at me with a small pout. I eased out of his arms and grabbed the polaroid camera he got me for Christmas. “I want to capture the purple Seokjinie while he’s still only mine,” I said. He made a cute pose, and I snapped the picture. As I looked at the undeveloped photo, Seokjinie pulled me back towards him, staring into my eyes with a surprisingly intense gaze. “I’m always only yours, Mun,” he said before getting the kiss that he wanted.

[thepencilnerd]

– a budding romance | part 1 –

➵ After moving into a new apartment, Min Yoongi stumbles across a flower shop down the street who’s radiant bouquets and even brighter personality catches his eye. What happens when two completely different worlds collide? 

➵ pairing: min yoongi x reader

➵ genre: fluff, angst, slow burn, strong friendship/family dynamic, strangers to lovers, barely a soulmate AU

➵ word count: 16.8k

➵ warnings: swearing, very heavy angst, alcohol consumption, discussions of mental health and past emotional trauma—if you are in need of help, please please seek out professional care. there is hope out there and people that are here to help you. you are not your illness and always remember that you are not alone. 

➵ a/n: I finally decided to get back to writing since I was on spring break for a short period of time (and because staying home is cool :) this story was inspired by my newly developed passion for houseplants, of which I’ve amassed a collection of over 30 in the past few months and totally don’t have an addiction to...  This chapter turned out to be a very filler-heavy introduction to the universe it takes place in; although there’s not much romance in this part, I’m very happy with how the friendship dynamic between our main/secondary characters and their backgrounds turned out, so I please forgive me ^^

I’ve missed you all so freaking much, and I cannot thank you enough for showering Melophile with so much love throughout the past year. Thank you for being patient with me during my hiatus, and I hope you and all of your loved ones are staying safe, healthy, and happy ❤️enjoy, and please stay tuned for part two ❤️

“Where do you want the shelf?” the mover asked while holding one end of the wooden bookcase. 

The sleep looked up from his seat by the kitchen island and “Right by the window,” Yoongi directed, guiding him to the west-facing window that opened up to his balcony. “Thanks.” 

Tipping each of the movers, he thanked them once and bid them goodbye, shutting the door. The whoosh of the door closing left him alone in his new apartment with nothing but hastily arranged furniture, the quiet murmur of traffic outside, and of course, his thoughts; he was finally moved in. 

Yoongi had thought about moving out for years now, but never brought up the topic until Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were traveling out of the country more. By the time university had started, he and the guys had all agreed to move into a duplex a few minutes away from campus for time, money, and friendship’s sake. It was only a matter of time before the three boys were scouted off the street by the head of a modeling agency. Might he add that it was a late Friday night, post-finals season of senior year, and all the boys were more than inebriated, so how the man decided that giving contracts to three loud, wild, and utterly wasted uni students was astounding. Either way, the three stooges dropped out to pursue a career in modeling faster than you could say ‘show in Europe.’

After graduation, Namjoon brought up the idea of moving into a smaller building, to which Jimin and Hoseok disapproved of with arms crossed and pouty faces. Taehyung and Jungkook tried to come to an agreement and schedule what times of the year they’d be in town, but with their unpredictable schedules, it was a pointless compromise. Seokjin—the oldest of the seven—was expected to move out before any of them, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he eventually offered to share a place with Taehyung and Jungkook. They were still employed under the same agency and manager, so understandably, they would all share similar shows, shooting schedules, flights, and time spent in and out of town. It was also pretty close from here, so the seven would still be able to spend time together when they had the chance to. 

Yoongi was the first to offer moving out so the four of them wouldn’t have to be crammed into a small condo. He had booked a few producing jobs here and there while still at university, so he practically had a contact list of full-time connections. Plus, Jimin had decided to enroll in a master’s program for traditional dance while teaching at a nearby dance studio, Namjoon started his first semester towards a postgraduate degree in literary criticism (again, how the boy had even passed his G.E. chemistry class in sophomore year was beyond anyone’s wildest imagination), and Hoseok had landed a solid job teaching hip-hop classes at the same studio Jimin was at.

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” Jimin asked Yoongi with worry laced in his voice. The four were lounging in the living room of the quiet apartment. Seokjin and the two younger ones had moved out earlier that morning, and they were probably still getting settled. It was only a ten minute drive from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin’s new place. Thankfully they’d all be living a relative distance to one another even after moving. 

Patting him on the head, Yoongi’s lips formed a small grin. “Don’t worry about me. At least I won’t have to deal with Hoseok’s late night gas bombs...” 

Hoseok’s face burned bright red and his eyes grew wide as a storm of curse words flew out of his mouth. “Hey! Don’t blame me, tell Namjoon to learn how to cook raw food all the way through!"

To this, Namjoon threw his comforter at Hoseok, nailing him square in the face. Jimin held back his giggles while Yoongi stared wistfully. He would miss them more than he thought. 

“It’s only a few minutes from your place so I’ll come and check up on you guys every once in a while,” Yoongi sighed, leaning into the couch. With everything packed and sent off the day before, it was the only piece of furniture left in the apartment. A distant memory resurfaced as his eyes drifted to the dented armrest. He and Jungkook had bought it at the thrift store on 5th Street after weeks of Seokjin complaining that there was no place to sit and watch TV; a past time he required to “relieve him of his grievances.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, redirecting his attention back to the present moment. “You know, just to make sure you haven’t all starved or strangled each other.” 

The four shared one last month together and even helped Yoongi find his new place eight blocks down. According to Yoongi, the day Hoseok ran into Yoongi’s room with the crumpled piece of paper was a match made by hell and granted by heaven.

Snapping back into the present moment, Yoongi’s watch read 12:45 p.m. He rubbed his eyes at how dreadfully early in the day it was and his body was already begging for sleep. By the magic laws of the universe, the familiar sound of his ringtone reverberated through the barren apartment—his new apartment. Walking to the kitchen counter, Hoseok’s name flashed across the screen and Yoongi swiped to answer the call. 

“How’s our big boy doing?” Hoseok immediately shouted through the receiver. 

Yoongi scrunched his face in displeasure at the volume but couldn’t hide the slight smirk that grazed his lips. “I’m doing great mom, thanks for checking in.” 

“We wanted to know if you needed any help settling in!” Jimin’s soft voice, as usual, offered with nothing but joy. Judging by the distant sound of complaining and forced laughter, he had taken the opportunity to snatch the phone away from Hoseok, and Namjoon was now holding him hostage with the force of tickling. 

“I second that!” Namjoon’s voice boomed in the background.

Yoongi allowed himself the barest hint of a laugh. “I already had help from the movers, so the furniture is decently positioned already.” Opening up his fridge, he saw that it was unsurprisingly empty other than a few bottles of water. “I might need to run to the grocery store though. Can I call you guys after I get back?” 

“Jimin, I swear to god you’re going to regret sharing a room with me!” Hoseok’s voice echoed closer from the other end. 

“Call us when you get back! It’d be nice to get to know the shops around the neighborhood,” Namjoon backed up with confidence but he suddenly yelped in pain. Yoongi pictured Hoseok jabbing him in the side like he always did whenever they fought. 

Hoseok huffed as he brought up the phone and was in possession of the device once again. “We’ll swing by your place at 6 with food, so don’t worry and buy some basic groceries. Namjoon, I swear—”

“—and make some neighborhood friends!” Namjoon blurted out. “We’ll see you soon!”   

“See you soon!” Jimin added cheerfully. 

“Miss you bud!” Hoseok chirped. 

“Bye guys,” Yoongi chuckled. "Don’t kill each other.” Clicking off, he sighed once more before admiring his new place. The one-bedroom penthouse came with a decent sized-kitchen, in-unit washer and dryer, and included utilities. Not to mention the extra room that he had already moved his studio equipment into and man, that balcony view. It wasn’t considered budget-friendly for it’s square footage, but for the amenities and the part of town it was centered in? A steal.  

Even though a job in the music industry didn’t exactly pay well, Yoongi considered himself lucky to have gotten the exposure he did so early. He had been bound to music for as long as he could remember, and it was during his middle school years that he discovered the editing software that changed his life. By junior year of high school, Yoongi had accumulated hundreds of thousands of followers and millions of listens on his streaming account. After he declared his major in university, renowned musicians from all over the world were flooding his email with requests for new songs, collaborations, editing, and everything in between. 

As fame and status quickly began consuming his every waking thought, a dark cloud loomed over him. There had been a period of time when sitting in his studio was no longer enjoyable and felt like pure hell. Slowly but surely, it was the same cycle over and over again: get a request from a record label, make a new song, send it back to the tone-deaf money hungry CEO’s of the music industry, and then get feedback on how it’s not catchy enough or "up with the times.” God, that pissed him off more than anything. Good music shouldn’t have to be labeled as such because it fits into the typical mold of some teenage trend; that’s what makes it good.

That’s all they cared about these days. No meaningful lyrics or real talk about everyday life and how the world goes around—only songs about meaningless sex, regretting one night stands, repetitive ear worm tunes, unrequited and dumb young love, or things that talentless, plastic Instagram models could lip-sync and stick choreography to. It’s hard to pursue your passion in a field that you love when it’s hellbent on destroying itself. 

Don’t even start with the controversies Yoongi dealt with on a daily basis. Flashy yellow headlines that talked about who this mysterious producer Min Yoongi was, where he was brought up, who he’s dated/is dating, his sexuality, and even his family members and their backgrounds. All of these were topics that every single news and social media outlet had the audacity to stamp on hundreds of magazines covers and copy/paste on their blogs, yet if given the chance, none would have the real guts to ask him in-person, face to face. 

Yoongi found himself falling into periods of constant downward spirals. What would he become if he gave in? Who would he be if just shut up and took the money? If he listened to what everyone had to say and gave them everything they wanted? Would they love him any less or hate him even more? 

It was half past one when he realized that he still had to go to run errands. Another 30 minutes of the day spent lingering on things that can’t be changed and don’t matter, he noted to himself. Wonderful. 

Despite the chilly weather, Yoongi opted to throw on a hoodie and call it a day. His decision to wear ripped jeans was poorly made, but he refused to admit that laziness was the culprit for not packing some spare clothes into a suitcase before moving day. Before stepping out, he quickly slipped on a beanie and a face mask for privacy’s sake. He was really not in the mood today. 

Murmuring a quick thanks to the cashier, Yoongi walked out of the grocery store as fast as he could. Within minutes, people had gathered in a crowd around him asking for pictures, autographs, voice memos, and the works. 

Every single time he had to turn down someone’s request for a picture because he could not miss the last bus; constantly hiding in fear of someone catching him and finding out where he lives, or worse: his family members; always trying to leave the house at the most awkward time of day so he could actually walk around and get basic shit done. No one knew it, but he hated himself for feeling like the biggest asshole that ever existed when in reality, he was just trying to live a normal life.

Yoongi loved music, but more than anything, he loved how there were people who truly empathized with his songs and the effort he put into making them. He missed the days before fanbase culture mobbed those who genuinely understood what he was trying to say. He missed going out with the guys and not having to worry about strangers following him home and leaking his address for publicity and likes. He missed having the decency of basic privacy and boundaries. Yoongi was grateful for everyone’s unnecessary unconditional love for his work and lifelong devotion to music, but after all, he was nothing but a human being who needed some space to breathe. 

Today was no different. He got lucky and managed to snag enough fruits and vegetables to fit into a single paper bag before the overwhelming screeches and overlapping voices forced him out of the mart. 

One of the security guards and a few cashiers were kind enough to hold back a few of the people who tried following him out. Giving them a quick bow before scurrying out, he felt like an even bigger nuisance. 

What kind of a prick like me disrupts people’s day-to-day life just to get some food... 

Should’ve worn a damn ski mask.

Yoongi was two blocks from his apartment complex when the smell of smog and car exhaust was replaced by a tidal wave of—roses? The fragrance of fresh flowers flooded his nostrils with a vibrancy and sweetness that he had never smelled before. Trying to find the source, he stumbled across what appeared to be hole-in-the-wall flower shop. 

Treading carefully towards the vivid assortment of colors and warm light, he glanced over at the array of plants that graced the outside shelves. It wasn’t until he started feeling hot that he noticed a patio heater beside the entrance, which doubled as a lamp. 

As he admired the wide variety of colors, leaf shapes, and aromas, Yoongi picked up a weathered terra cotta pot. The gritty surface of the pot was splotched with discolored patches of white, probably from water and rain. It housed a plant with small, plump, ovular, dimpled emerald green leaves, and it was vining up the bamboo stick that was staked in the center. 

A delicate shuffle of shoes on hardwood accompanied a soft voice. “Need help finding something?” 

Looking up, Yoongi’s eyes met the young woman’s gaze. Even through his mask, her friendly smile seemed to glow brighter than the embers from the patio heater. Underneath her apron, she was wearing a fluffy white sweater and a pair of comfortably loose jeans that were decorated with colorful paint-splatters. 

Blinking hard after catching himself staring too long, Yoongi shook his head and put the plant back. “Just looking around. Nice place you got here.” If he spoke any quieter, he’d have a new job singing lullabies to babies.

Knitting her eyebrows with an inquisitive stare, he felt his pulse start to pick up. Did she recognize him? Was she going to freak out? Was there something on his face? 

She brought her finger up to her quirked lip and widened her eyes. “Botanophobia is my area of specialty!” she exclaimed with joy. “You don’t have to worry about killing a single plant under my wing.” Picking up the plant he set down, she held it out towards him with a warm grin. 

Yoongi won’t be the first to admit that of his absent green thumb. When he used to visit his grandmother, she’d always tug on his ear for picking at the hanging pots draped underneath her patio. He didn’t even have a plant near his vicinity until Taehyung brought home individual cactus for each of the guys. Something about keeping it on their desks for focus and oxygen or whatever.

Needless to say that Namjoon and Yoongi both learned very quickly that cacti don’t like water as much as you think. 

“Oh,” Yoongi waved his hands in defense. “ I’m not really a plant collecting type of guy.” 

The girl rolled her eyes teasingly and handed him a ball of twine from her pocket.

“Stay here until I get back,” she commanded with a stern look and playful confidence. “I’ll be but a moment.” Retreating back into the shop, Yoongi was frozen in place. Guilty if he leaves, not guilty if he stays—

Right as he was about to put the twine on the shelf, the girl came out of the shop with a paper-wrapped package. “Water it once a month and keep it by a window, preferably brightly lit but not necessarily,” she instructed with nothing less than an energetic smile. “They kind of thrive on neglect.” 

He was taken aback. “But—” 

She held her hand up to halt his rebuttal and took back the twine. “Think of this as a little welcome to the neighborhood gift. I know all of my locals by heart and I’ve never seen you around before.” 

“I can’t just take a plant from you,” Yoongi huffed, slightly annoyed at her stubborn nature. She was determined, he’d give her that. 

Shaking her head, her hands didn’t move. “You can pay me back the next time you visit, and if you still haven’t fallen in love with this guy—” her head motioned to the paper-wrapped plant in her hands. “—then I guess I’ll just have to work harder.” 

Yoongi bowed his head in thanks and accepted the parcel with a tightly pressed smile. She was definitely not one to give in. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that there were still people in the world who loved their jobs as much as this woman. 

The dimming sky signaled that it was time for him to get back home. Waving goodbye, the sound of his steps grew louder as the echo of her voice faded farther away. “See you around!” 

Sure, the pessimist in him spat. 

You awoke to the gentle sound of rain pattering against your window. Drops bounced off of the glass as the sound grew harsher, the water droplets ricocheting off of the already-streaky pane and onto the surrounding leaves of the tree whose branches caressed your small windowsill. The freezing cold air whistled through the crack between your window pane and the latch, causing you to shiver reflexively.

Stretching out your limbs, a large and clearly gracious yawn left your mouth, which harmonized in tandem with your outstretched palms and scrunched face. The warmth of your rumpled and disheveled sheets made you groan, your body naturally refusing to leave the comfort of your own bed. Did you really have to go out today? Using the rusty spring of the mattress to swing your legs over the bed, your feet grazed the cold, damp fabric of your carpet—

“Crap.” Partially awake, your aching limbs dashed across your small studio apartment and rummaged through the pile of rubbish in the spare closet, fishing out an old bucket. You ran back to your room and placed on top of the wet patch of fabric just underneath the foot of your bed. The sound of water hitting the carpet soon turned into muffled pangs. The culprit? A leaky spot in the ceiling of your humble abode that you had so graciously discovered months after you’d moved in. 

Your landlord/makeshift, of course, said he couldn’t do anything about it. Something told you it wasn’t that he couldn’t, but rather, he couldn’t be bothered to...

The pleasantly dull morning heaviness that weighed your body slowly retreated, and left you fully aware that your feet were still wet and freezing cold. Very, very cold. It was Monday, right? A sigh escaped you as your hand came up to rub your eyes. Definitely a Monday. Stretching once more, you sat silently and found a moment of peace in gazing at the pouring rain that battered your window. 

There was something oddly relaxing about watching the water droplets slowly slide down the glass. Whether it was the transparency of the glass against the clarity of the rainwater, or the different textures of sound as the droplets bounced off of the window onto the tree leaves, one thing was certain: overcast skies and the fresh smell petrichor was one of nature’s many great gifts. 

Since the day was still immersed in the early hours of the morning, you were compelled to stay inside and burn through a book or two while in the comfort of your own bed. However, your fairytale fantasy was shattered by the reality that was your day job. You washed up, got dressed, and didn’t bother adding any extra layers to combat the cold. It was, of course, the sensation of the icy biting air against your flushed cheeks that made you treasure this kind of weather all the more. The haphazard toss a mini-umbrella into your bag and the clink of a lock and key was quite complimentary. 

Ever since you were young, you’d loved flowers. Red roses, to be exact. It was in your best interest as a 6-year old to tag alongside your dad on his trips to the hardware store. Each time you came home, you ended up bringing a 99-cent fern home that ended up dying a week later. No matter how much your little heart adored each tiny gem, it was only a matter of time before you drowned the plant with too much water. In your pre-pubescent mind, taking care of a plant meant watering it. Every day. Little did you know that tending to a garden meant leaving it alone and giving it time to grow by itself. 

Hundreds of plant funerals were held from the tender ages of six to fourteen. Years of experience, tears, frustration, determination, and love ended up raising your brown thumb well. Who knew that you’d end up majoring in biology and horticultural studies? Not to mention starting up an independent business as a flower shop and nursery. Now that was something to be grateful for. 

It might seem strange to many; working a job that doesn’t pay a ton or have a stable workload, sitting in a humid shop some days with nothing but the rustling of dried bouquets to keep you company, or learning to appreciate the quiet solitude of white noise against morning traffic. It may have seemed like torture for anyone with some ounce of sanity, but to you, it was home. 

Nothing excited you more than when you received the bi-weekly shipment of new plants. You were lucky the rain had stopped by the time you made it halfway to the shop. Marco, your go-to greenhouse guy, was just in time. He was wearing a blue sweater and the navy scarf his wife, Lucia, knitted him for Christmas four years ago. 

You’ll never forget the gifts they exchanged that year. It was two days before Christmas and Marco was so busy with deliveries, he didn’t have time to get Lucia a present. Of course, seeing him ramble his worries to you while bringing in the day’s shipment made a lightbulb go off in your head. 

As he was unloading boxes, you ran inside and whipped up a somewhat-simple but ever-classic arrangement: red tulips, white honeysuckles, baby’s-breath stems, and a mix of myrtle and lemon leaves to balance out the flower to foliage ratio. 

Before Marco could leave, you put the finishing touches on the lush bouquet and finished it off with a gold-dusted bow for added holiday spirit. 

“All done!” Marco bellowed. Running out of the shop, you handed him the box that sheltered Lucia’s gift. 

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered with a giddiness that couldn’t be held back. 

“Oh, bella...” His reaction was priceless. With a mouth parted, sparkling eyes, and a wonder-struck smile to top it all off, this was why you loved your job. 

“Red tulips for a perfect love, honeysuckles for devoted lovers, and baby’s breath for everlasting love.” The words rolled off of your tongue like a second language. 

Marco was still speechless. “You shouldn’t have—”

“Marco, my business would not function without you and neither would I,” you hushed. “This is the absolute least I could do for you and Lucia.” 

“Bella!” His deep voice brought you back to the present day. The nickname always made you feel fuzzy. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing wonderful, Marco.” Your eyes beamed. “How are Lucia and the girls?” 

He laughed, shaking his head with a grin. “As wild as always. Fia and Gianna just started 2nd grade a few days ago. They’re growing up too fast.” 

Your heart melted. “It’s always like that, isn’t it? Time flies...” The wistful tone in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. “Anyway, what’s in today’s box of treasures?” Rubbing your hands together like an animated cartoon, your eyes lit up at the sight of all the new varieties that peeked from the boxes. 

“Oh you’ll love these!” Pulling out one of the 4-inch grow pots from the boxes, he revealed to you a healthy Hoya bella. The delicately draped stems with spear-shaped leaves and grooved foliage was breathtaking. A few of them even had a few peduncles, which was where flowers bloomed from. Hoyas were known for their delicate, candy-like flowers, and Hoya bella was a prolific bloomer. 

If you had to choose a favorite type of tropical genus, it’d most definitely be the wax plant family. There are hundreds of species within that range from your typical waxy, thick and succulent leaves to thin, hair-like sparse leaves that looked like grass. Expensive grass, might you add. 

You couldn’t hold back the excitement. “You brought me hoyas!” Jumping up and down with an overzealous amount of energy, Marco bowed for dramatic effect. Today was already off to a great start. 

He counted all the boxes one more time, summing up the numbers in his head. “There are also some krinkle 8′s, compactas, variegated and green carnosas, more bellas, australis, curtisii, pubicalyx, burtoniae, lacunosa, and only a couple linearis. You know how popular those are these days.” Each time he listed off another set of species had you spinning. “The bottom boxes have some pothos, rubber trees, ferns, tradescantias, and peperomias.” 

“Thank you thank you thank you,” you exclaimed while giving him a big hug. “Don’t count me guilty if I run home with a few of these.” 

A hearty laugh reverberated from his chest. “Always a pleasure, bella. I have to get going. Watch the rain! I’ll see you next week!” 

Bidding him a goodbye, you reminded him to drive safe before he was off. 

The first customer of the day was a regular; you could spot her bright red lipstick and pinup elegance from a mile away. If she hadn’t said anything, you could have sworn she was related to Marilyn Monroe. 

 “Good morning, Ms. Simmons!” you greeted as the chime on the door jingled. “How are you?” 

Her bright red lips curled into a grin that revealed her immaculate smile. “I’m doing very well, thank you dearie.” Did you mention that she had an Irish accent? 

Stepping out from behind the counter, you pulled out the freshly wrapped parcel and unfolded the top to show her. Cupping your hand to speak, the words came out in a whisper. “I got the new shipment of linearis.” 

At this, her eyes grew bigger and mouth rounded into an O. She’d been waiting for these grass-leaved hoyas for months now and you had made a promise to her that she was the first on the waitlist. 

“You are an absolute jewel my love, an unreal star!” Handing you her usual payment method of cash, you made sure to choose the fullest plant for her before she arrived. Also, you may have added in a begonia and African violet or two. All in the name of agape love, truly. 

Even though she celebrated her 70th birthday over the winter, Ms. Simmons was a regular ever since you opened the shop. She always made the two mile walk from her home to your shop every Monday and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why. All you could do was be the best at your job and treat your customers as well, if anything, better than they treated you.  

“I’ll see you next week, Ms. Simmons,” you smiled, holding the door open for her as she went on her merry way. 

The rest of the day was business as usual. Mary, another regular, came in looking for a rubber tree and a peace lily; she’d just moved into a bigger house to accompany their newest family member, and needed some green so the place didn’t look so sterile. 

Isaac, the pastor who worked at the local church, was in need of some rose arrangements for this weekend’s sermon. He always loved how full the ones you had out on display were. 

Kat was an old university friend you had stayed in touch with and a fellow “hoya head.” She was the sweetest girl and always brought you coffee and a perfectly toasted bagel whenever she visited. The doorbell always chimed at exactly 12:25 p.m. and she never missed it once ever since you opened the shop’s doors. 

“You got a perm?!” you gawked. She’d gotten another haircut. Her once long, pin-straight dark brown hair was now shoulder length and curled like Shirley Temple’s signature look. “You look a-freaking-mazing!” 

Tussling the curls with one hand while pushing up the bridge of her cat-eye glasses with the other, she reminded you of a revamped 70’s Betty Boop. “Thank you darling, I’ve been meaning to chop it all off for a while now but the weather has had me down in the dumps,” she remarked in an over the top, received pronunciation accent. 

Shaking your head and appreciating her choice of clothing, you couldn’t help but applaud at how she always chose fashion and style over basic comfort.

"We got some bellas and compactas so grab ‘em and go before you get a cold.” Her red dress and black cardigan ensemble was an eye-catcher but did not bode well considering the cloudy sky.

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Yes mom, I’ll take those two and a krinkle, if you please.” You will admit, her energy was something you never got tired of. 

The wrapping of planters had become muscle-memory now. Wrap around, fold over, crease the edge, tuck in the sides, and tie with some twine. A snip here and brushing off the excess soil there and voila. 

Before she left, you handed her the umbrella you brought from home. “Get home before it starts raining!” you nagged. “I only live a few minutes from here so just take it before you ruin your clothes.” Kat definitely needed it more than you. 

She wrapped her arms around you in a familiar hug and promised she’d call you back at home. “Love you!” Perfect timing, too. Right as the door shut, the slow patter of rain had started sprinkling the rooftop, and cars started whooshing by with an added splash. 

Cradling your warm cup of coffee was a routine on Kat’s visiting days. The rain was now trickling down the ridged shingles of the roof and down the gutter, droplets of water blurring into coiled trails. Absolutely mesmerizing. After making a dozen bouquets that were on today’s order list, Sara, Louie, Timmy, Kyle, and George visited one by one to pick them up. Soon after that, the day started slowing down and the rain showed no signs of stopping like you had anticipated. It was nearing closing time too, so maybe it was a good idea to head home a bit early. 

You rushed to bring in the buckets of pre-cut flowers and ready-made arrangements from outside. You ended up wrapping everything up right on time. Even better, a few new faces showed up. All of your linearis and bellas had sold out today (no surprise), and you got to meet some new customers right before closing time. It was nothing but a joyous and success-filled day in your eyes. 

Gripping the cold metal, goosebumps prickled your skin as soon as your fingertips rolled down the gate over the store windows. A smile of triumph grazed your lips. The quietest of goodbyes escaped your lips.

Until tomorrow. 

The buzz of alcohol and smell of grease wafted in the air as they all got crazier by the minute. 

Namjoon had already burned through three bottles of beer and was on the verge of losing his sense of direction. Hoseok was two sips in before his face flushed a bright red. Jimin was prancing around like a fairy after his third shot of tequila. Taehyung and Jungkook were singing and dancing to bad karaoke songs, nearly knocking over the TV a few times. 

Seokjin was the only one who was mildly sober. Again, mildly is a word that should be used very lightly. "Since when did you have a green finger?”

The five paused their shenanigans to glance over at the single plant that decorated the otherwise empty bookshelf. 

Yoongi chewed silently, unable to come up with any response. 

Jimin hiccuped before talking. “Didn’t you kill a cactus a few years back?”  

Again, Yoongi chose to stay silent and give an unbothered shrug. Hoseok’s face still looked like he was contemplating the meaning of life, but he managed to nod his head in confirmation. 

“Yeah, Namjoon drowned his, too,” the youngest spoke with a ditzy tone. Taehyung giggled like a child at Jungkook’s strangely accurate description and pointed at Namjoon. Some comment about his messy hair or turtle glasses, or a combination of both.

“I’m old enough to take care of myself so I should be able to take care of some stupid weed.” For some reason, Yoongi’s mouth burned saying those words. 

Namjoon rolled his eyes at the comment and got up to grab some water. Of course, his drunk state amplified his clumsiness and caused him to bang his knee against the corner of the kitchen island. Hoseok and Jimin burst out into cackles and snorted as Yoongi rolled his eyes. The alcohol was beginning to pass like water. He should slow down. 

“Apparently that one thrives on neglect.” Yoongi finally broke his vow of silence, changing the topic and directing his attention to Jimin and half-there Hoseok. “How’s teaching going?” 

Leaning on each other as the alcohol sleeps finally kicked in, they could only raise their thumbs-up with half-lidded eyes. 

Coming back with a tray of water cups that remained miraculously intact, Namjoon collapsed down into his seat. “They’ve been working every single day for the past month now. Jimin has his mid-semester show coming up and Hoseok got booked for some choreography with a local theater group.” 

Yoongi downed one last mouthful of the bitter drink before calling it quits, enjoying how it burned his throat as it made its way down. “And you guys?” 

Seokjin and Jungkook all murmured something about an upcoming shoot in May for the spring catalog. 

“Jungkook and Seokjin got booked for a perfume ad and I got an acting gig,” Taehyung explained. The excitement was evident in his voice. Yoongi congratulated the three, cheering them on with another shot. 

He turned to the boy rubbing his bruised knee. “And you, Joon?” 

It was Namjoon’s turn to shrug. “School is school. Always studying, reading, writing, nothing new,” he droned in a monotonous voice. “How’ve you been handling everything?” 

He was talking about all the new deals that Yoongi was offered in the last couple of weeks. Every post on social media was rampant with news of Min Yoongi’s latest tracks and upcoming collabs. Although the boys would never fully understand his stress, their sympathy for him was plenty enough.

“Same old same old. Money hungry bastards trying to get my advice on shitty tracks that have as much depth and complexity as a poptart just to get my signature stamped on it.” Yoongi spoke with painful honesty, causing everyone to sober up and focus on him. He took a final swig of his drink. “Whatever sells, I guess.” 

Namjoon and the others shook their heads in agreement solemnly, showing his wordless support and understanding. “You’ll get out of it, Yoongi. Trust me.” He patted his friend’s shoulder in vain, but only Yoongi knew it. 

Trying to swallow the words, Yoongi looked over at the snoring bundle that was Jimin, Hoseok, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Seokjin was probably passed out in the bathroom. His upper teeth raked across his lower lip, savoring the dull sensation that felt more real than the situation he had gotten himself into. 

“Yeah. I’ll get out of it.” 

Spring was always the best time of the year. All of the flowers were in bloom and sunlight was streaming through everyone’s window without being unbearably hot. To top it all off, it was also the busiest time for you and your business. The shop was always flooded with customers marveling at the colors that decorated the exterior. When the inside of the shop finally cleared out, you were able to take requests for individual bouquets, parties, and weddings. 

“Need some help?” a familiar someone shouted through the crowd of people. 

Your head snapped over to the upbeat and bubbly voice you knew by heart. “Kat!” Hugging her over the counter and bringing her behind the register, you quickly thanked her before running around frantically with a notepad in hand. 

This became a routine about two springs after you opened up: people piling in by the masses for a chance at bringing home the freshest roses, tulips, and succulents you had to offer, Kat making her weekly visit and seeing you overwhelmed, weaving her way through the horde of people crammed inside the shop and lined up outside, and finally putting on an apron of her own and managing the register while you paced back and forth getting people’s orders. 

“What would I do without you?” you mouthed to her as you formed your face into a meme-worthy cry face.

She stuck her tongue out and managed the register like a pro, fingers pressing buttons left and right at lighting speed. You giggled and went back to jotting down everyone’s orders. 

1x assmt/ peace lilies; red and white in ceram. pot

2x 4-inch maiden hair ferns delivered

1 bqt/dozen red roses w/ filler foliage

1 bqt/dozen red roses w/o filler foliage

1x dozen individually wrapped W roses with gld. ribbons

R, W, PRP, PNK tulips w/ queen anne’s lace

Succ. terr. for bday, round jar, colorful

Over the course of one day, you used up three ballpoint pens and couldn’t feel your fingers or your cheeks. Writing and smiling at the same time should be an official sport for next year’s Olympics. Kat fared no better. Slung over the register like a floppy piece of bacon, the only indication of any remaining energy from either of you was the heavy sound of breathing. 

Stretching out your hands, you set down the notepad and groaned. “Kat?” Checking to make sure she was alive, she groaned back in response. “Thank you.” 

She looked up and rested her cheek against the gold glass of the counter. “Welcome,” she mumbled, flashing her signature smile. It was a quarter past seven but you usually closed the shop by five, so why were you and Kat still here? After the commotion of today, both of you were too exhausted to close up, so you just brought whatever flowers from outside remained and ordered some takeout to eat here. 

Standing up, your body needed to step outside and get some fresh air. Kat was knocked out comfortably on the counter, so you decided to leave her alone to nap in peace. The first step you took outside made your body tingle. You were constantly running back and forth earlier, but being out of breath and in a mental flux with all the orders made you feel like you were floating. 

You inhaled the cold air as deeply as you could and breathed out with an equal amount of force. The sky was tinted a coral pink color and the sun was barely kissing the horizon. Thank you spring for yet another marvelous attribute that only you can provide. 

Right before you were about to step back inside, a familiar masked figure entered your field of vision. “Hey!” Calling out through cupped hands, you prayed he could hear you over the few cars that were driving by. His head perked up and even behind his covered face, you could see that he was surprised. Ducking his head in a makeshift greeting, you waved him hello and goodbye, happy to see his masked face again. No point in calling him over this late at night. He probably had things to do. Didn’t we all? 

Jungkook and Taehyung were the first ones to point it out. 

“Yoongi...” Hoseok uttered. 

“How could you?” Seokjin continued, mouth agape in pure disbelief.  

Namjoon shook his head. “I can’t believe you’ve done this. ‘Responsible adult’ my ass.” 

“You’ve had it for two weeks and it’s already dying!” Jimin was the one who finally blurted it out. 

Yoongi rubbed his sore eyes. It was 11 in the morning and he was exhausted from staying up all night. The deadline for his upcoming track was this Friday and contrary to popular belief, making a horribly repetitive and catchy song was a lot harder than you’d think. The guys managed to find some time in their schedules to come visit him. He never thought the day would come where he wanted them to stay home. 

“It’s fine,” he grunted. 

“When was the last time you watered it?” Hoseok asked, inspecting the sick looking plant. He was making that weird face. The one where his nose wrinkled at an invisible stench and eyes narrowed into slits. 

“Don’t know,” Yoongi shrugged while chugging a few mouthfuls of water and relished the feeling of cool liquid coating his parched throat. 

They all surveyed the state of the place. There were crumpled scraps of paper that littered the hardwood floor like confetti. Empty water bottles were spread across the bathroom, music studio, kitchen counter, and balcony shelf—and who could forget the pile of worn hoodies and shirts that were nestled in the sofa corner and had slowly been growing bigger, congregating to form a laundry mountain. 

Namjoon was the one to point out that the fridge was still pretty much empty. “Did you even go grocery shopping, Yoongi?” He spoke with the tone of concern now. If anyone knew how persistent Yoongi was, it was Namjoon. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s skipped meals and sleep just to work on a song. 

“Yoongi, we can go out for you if you need us to,” Jimin offered as usual. Hoseok and Namjoon voted in support of his idea, already mouthing a list to Taehyung and Jungkook. 

“We’ll go to the supermar—” Jungkook was cut off by Yoongi’s sudden spike of anger. 

“I’m fine,” Yoongi replied a bit too harshly. He could only hold in pent up frustration for so long before he burst. “I don’t need you to go grocery shopping for me. I don’t need your help. I appreciate it, I really do, but it’s not your job to bear my burden of being a nuisance.”  

They stayed quiet. The ball was already rolling and he needed to get it all out. 

“You think I don’t want to go out? To step outside for one day and have nobody recognize me?” Yoongi scoffed, voice dripping with venom and sarcasm. “I want—” he paused. “No, no. I crave that more than anything. The anonymity I had in high school when I was a nobody and only had you guys by my side. 

“Back when I didn’t have to bury myself underneath hoodies and beanies, suffocate myself underneath scarves and face masks, or wear sunglasses when it wasn’t the slightest bit sunny out.” Yoongi held back a scream and ran his hands through his hair in anger, tugging at the strands so he could feel tense pain nip at his scalp; he needed to feel anything other than this—this thing inside of him. Realizing that he had directed his vexes toward the wrong people, he sighed. Yoongi buried his face into his hands, disappointed at himself for doing it again. 

Sinking into the ground, he couldn’t find it in himself to shed a single tear. In a fit of blind rage, he had just yelled at his childhood friends for absolutely no reason. Guilt was starting to eat away at his conscience; he’d fucked up—bad. What the hell was wrong with him? 

The six kneeled down beside Yoongi and enveloped him in a silent hug. The boys had formed their group of seven in middle school and were forever bound by their loyalty to one another. Pushing past the temper tantrums of adolescence and living through the toils of university was all accomplished by the means of what connected them as a whole: friendship. Friends were there for each other through thick and thin, and they knew that none of them were free from the confines of daily life; friends were family

Yoongi pressed the palms of his hands harder into his eye sockets and blinked back the ache that was diffusing across his muscles. 

I’ll get out of it. 

It was an unusually cloudy day for spring. The grey clouds that were spread out across the sky didn’t seem to bode well for the day ahead. Today went by slower than usual. Granted it was a Sunday, but still—it was an off day. 

You were in the middle of pruning the plants that were set up outside the shop when a hand tapped your shoulder. Turning around, you were greeted by a doe-eyed young man and his equally handsome friend. You had never seen them around before and they were each carrying two insulated grocery bags by their sides. 

“Good afternoon.” The latter greeted you with an immaculate smile, bowing slightly. His friend mirrored the greeting, also presenting himself with his own charming grin. 

Starstruck for a moment, you blinked a few times before gulping nervously. “Pleasure.” You mentally face-palmed your brain. Great job. 

The big-eyed one spoke with a certain shyness you couldn’t put your finger on. “We were looking for some advice on plants. For a friend.” Chuckling, he scratched the back of his ear. It was only after a few moments to process their appearances did you realize that they were both attractive enough to be models, or something of the sort. Maybe your eyes were tricking you, but you felt like you’d seen them on last month’s fashion catalogue...

“I’m Jungkook by the way.” Shaking his hand, you couldn’t help but be aware of the pink that crept up your face. You tried to hide it with a nervous smile. 

Act professional, you mentally scolded. “______,” you introduced yourself.

The other apologized for his manners and shook your hand as well. Your small fingers paled in comparison to his. “Taehyung. Nice to meet you.” His blinding smile made you blush furiously and you were dying inside. 

“So uh—our friend, he has a plant like this one,” Taehyung continued, stopping to point to the tray of green carnosas beside his knee. “—and it’s starting to turn brown?” 

“Hmm...” you frowned. "Does your friend always have the air conditioner or heater running? Something that might cause the air to dry out?”

The two stared at each other at a loss for words. “Not really, he always complains that the weather is too hot to turn on the heater yet too cold for the AC,” Jungkook elaborated. 

“Oh!” He gasped as if a mind-blowing thought had struck him. “There’s a humidifier by his couch. Remember? He always used to complain about nosebleeds when we lived by uni.” Jungkook shook his head up and down like a cartoon, probably recalling this as well. 

You were stumped. “You’re sure they’re brown leaves, right? Not yellow?” 

They nodded. Damn. Yellowing leaves almost always indicated over watering or under fertilizing. Browning edges and tips usually meant that the plant needed more humidity, but full blown brown leaves? 

Sighing in defeat, you packaged a small packet of water-soluble fertilizer with instructions and handed it to doe-eyed . “Try this and see if it helps,” you instructed, praying it would. Hoyas were known as bullet-proof plants, so why a carnosa of all species was starting to decline was alarming. 

They thanked you for your help and asked you a few more questions before leaving. 

“By the way,” Taehyung asked. “Do you do arrangements for large-scale productions? Like photoshoots?” 

You said yes with a gentle smile. “Occasionally I will, but being such a small shop, I try to limit it to only during the springtime. It’s harder to fill out orders for big events when there aren’t that many materials to work with.” 

Jungkook’s eyes got bigger than you thought to be possible and beamed, still running his hands through his hair shyly. “Would you be interested in helping us out?” 

Raising your eyebrow at their request, you were curious. “What exactly would I be helping with?” 

Taehyung started stuttering, his turn to be shy. “We actually have a spring photoshoot coming up for our modeling gig, and we thought it’d be cool to have an actual set full of flowers. Not just a big, white room with oversaturated fluorescents.” 

“So you are models?” You felt like Sherlock Holmes had cracked the case. 

This time, they were the ones who turned tomato red and cleared their throats, scratching their heads nervously. Humble folks. 

“Don’t fret, your secret is safe with me,” you comforted. “What kind of theme are you trying to go for?” 

You conversed for the next half twenty minutes about their ideas for the shoot and a little bit about their backgrounds, and you managed to exchange numbers. It turns out they were quite the dynamic duo. 

If you hadn’t reminded them that they had groceries that needed to be taken home, you could have easily talked to them for another couple of hours. They were the welcoming social butterflies, not the typical annoying ones that felt the compulsive need to blabber on about nothing. 

After saving their contacts into your phone, Taehyung and Jungkook thanked you once more for your time and said they’d see you around. 

What an interesting day it turned out to be indeed...

“We come bearing gifts!” Taehyung announced grandly in his signature deep voice. Setting down the bags, the six got to work organizing the food stash. Jungkook, Taehyung and Seokjin were fortunate enough to be in town for a while before their next shoot, and Jimin, Namjoon, and Hoseok were on spring break. Basically, all of them had been camping in Yoongi’s living room for the past few weeks, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

Jungkook and Taehyung had bought enough food to last all of them for a month had they still lived under a single roof. Jimin got to work on washing and slicing up the vegetables, Seokjin was dividing up the cuts of beef, and Hoseok was boiling some water and sauce for the pasta. Meanwhile, Taehyung was busy figuring out how to set the temperature dial on the oven and Jungkook was scolding him every few seconds for not letting him do it. 

Namjoon was keeping a keen eye on the water to make sure it was boiling.

“Do you think he’s still sleeping?” Sat on the bar counter of the kitchen, he propped up his chin while resting his elbow on the table. 

“I hope so,” Hoseok sighed. “But you know he never sleeps even at the best of times.” 

Jimin shook his head. “He was snoring a little earlier, but he might just be swaddled underneath the covers,” he added, the satisfying crunch of the vegetables timed perfectly with his words. 

“He’ll be okay, right?” Jungkook asked with worry evident in his voice. 

“He’ll talk about it when he’s ready to, but until then, it’s not our place to pry.” Seokjin was the class clown of the group, but every so often he let the wise part of his brain come out. “Let’s cook up a feast, pop open some bottles, and have a good time just like the old days.” 

“The water is boiling!” Namjoon shouted, a bit too loud for Hoseok’s taste. He jumped at the sudden spike in pitch like a cat. Bursting into a fit of laughter, Hoseok whacked Joon on the forehead with the wooden spoon, making him howl. A spitting image of siblings fighting on Thanksgiving. 

In the other room, Yoongi let out a deep sigh from beneath the jumbled mess of covers. The smell emanating from the kitchen made his mouth water and fooled him into thinking he was still dreaming. 

Sitting up slowly so the blood wouldn’t rush too quickly to his head, he stared outside at the glimmering lights of the city that lit up the dark sky. Across the street, he could barely make out the flashing shadows of people’s TV screens behind their blinds and the monotonous, undecorated, cement balconies. For the most part, the sight was nothing extraordinary. 

If he shut his eyes and listened closely, he could hear the faint hum of sirens; feel the quiet murmur of the heartbeat that lived and breathe in the city. If he silenced his mind entirely, he could smell the wet cement through the crack of his open window, still damp from the rain that poured hours earlier. 

His footsteps were light as he made his way to the kitchen, but not before sneaking a glance at his friends from the hallway. Hiding behind the doorway, Yoongi listened to their voices; somehow even throughout puberty, he could still tell exactly who’s voice belonged to who just by the energy their words radiated. 

“You told me to tell you when the water was boiling!” Namjoon defended with a whine, still rubbing his forehead from where Hoseok struck him with the spoon. He swore it was turning red.“I told you the water was boiling!” 

Jungkook hung his head down to hide his wide-toothed grin. He was trying his hardest to hold back the snort that threatened to escape. “I think Hoseok meant to let him know with some bit of sanity, not intentionally scare him.” 

“Either way, Hoseok definitely knew the water was boiling,” Taehyung chuckled with his mouth half-full. He always liked sneaking bits of food whenever they cooked something. 

“Stop eating all the carrots, Taehyung!” Jimin yelled for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I hope your nose turns orange.” 

His hand stopped midway, the carrot a mere centimeters away from his mouth which was still open. “Can—can that actually happen?” he sputtered. 

Yoongi could picture Jimin’s smirk down to the last dimple. “I don’t know Taehyung, ever wonder why some babies turn orange? 

“It only happens if you only eat carrots for a long time, like a carrot juice detox or something.” As usual, Seokjin was the voice of logic and mild reason in Yoongi’s absence. 

Taehyung pinched Jimin’s cheek as revenge, popping the carrot into his mouth. 

“I don’t know Taehyung,” Hoseok warned, sucking air in between his teeth for added effect. “Now that you mention it, your nose is starting to look a little bit—” 

“What?!” A few chunks of carrot came flying out of his mouth, causing the boys to explode into snickers and simultaneous “ew’s.” Taehyung ran to the nearest bathroom and nearly ran face-first into the mirror trying to get a good look at his face. 

“Hoseok!!!” he screeched like a demon. “You are so freaking lucky we don’t share a room anymore!” 

Jungkook was starting to hyperventilate and clap like a seal, while Jimin, Seokjin and Hoseok sounded like they were on laughing gas from all of their snorting. “How do you fall for that sort of thing?” Seokjin forced out while clutching his stomach and nearly bursting into tears. 

“God you guys are so stupid,” Namjoon facepalmed. In reality, he was hiding his ear-to-ear grin and his cheeks were sore. “I don’t know how we dealt with each other for twenty years.” 

This made all of them laugh even harder.

Still hiding behind the doorway, Yoongi felt a bruising pain bloom from within his chest. It started deep down in his ribs and moved up his chest, crawling up his throat and contracting every muscle and scraping against every bone as it made its way farther up. The ache grew into a bubble, inflating itself bigger and bigger until it hurt for him to swallow or breathe. His knees buckled from beneath him as his back slid down the wall, his body curling into a crouched position. He looped his hands behind his neck and tugged his face into his knees, the familiar darkness comforting him. He wanted to scream until his throat refused to; punch something until his knuckles were pink, kick a box, bite down on a towel until his gums ached, throw a glass at a wall and watch it shatter into pieces, thrash around until his limbs went numb from the buzz of blood circulation. 

He wanted to cry but he didn’t; he wanted to feel the tears as they trailed down his face. He wanted to feel the burning sensation of them trailing down his skin each time he wiped them away, cheek stinging even more after he did. 

He needed to cry but he couldn’t. 

“Do you wanna go wake him up, Taehyung?” Seokjin asked, his voice waking Yoongi up from his daze. It was more of a gentle command than a question, really. “He never gets mad at you for waking him up.” 

On cue, Yoongi walked into the kitchen and pretended to rub his eyes as if he were still sleepy. Sitting at the table, he blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Wow, you actually managed to cook something and not burn my place down.” His chest was still sore and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed, but there was also a part of him that was genuinely impressed by the setup. 

“Hey, we’re not all like Namjoon.” Hoseok poked fun at him again and twirled his spatula as if it were a hypnotist wand. 

“At least I made sure the water was boiling,” Joon mumbled under his breath. 

Yoongi had no energy to smile, but he managed to lift the edges of his lips into the ghost of one. “I’m starving,” he spoke as his voice cracked a little. 

The dinner table was already set and they just needed to bring some spare plates over. As everyone began gathering around the food, Yoongi felt the swelling in his chest begin to calm down. He was still having trouble breathing deep breaths, but it was better. Better than nothing. 

“Want some water?” Jungkook offered, face still flushed red from laughing earlier. 

“Thanks,” Yoongi accepted. He patted the youngest on the head and ruffled his hair like the high school days. Looking around, he studied every single face of his friends, admiring traits he hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate before.

Pouring him a glass, the boys soon joined Yoongi at the table, wine glass in hand. Hoseok handed the extra one he had brought to Yoongi, sneaking him a wink. A grin spread across his lips.

Jimin passed around the bottle of white wine as Taehyung cracked open a mini bottle of red for himself.  All eyes darted towards the second youngest, causing him to raise his hands in defense. “Chardonnay gives me a hangover sometimes!” 

“Mhm,” Jungkook hummed. “Totally the chardonnay.” 

Another circle of laughter encompassed the table. Right as they were about to start eating, Hoseok remembered that he forgot to take the pasta out from the saucepan. 

Namjoon stood up so fast, he didn’t have time to voice his pain when his toe struck against the table leg. “I’ll get it!” he volunteered before anyone could stop him. The dining table was right beside the kitchen so why was he in such a rush? 

The others trusted him enough with a simple task like pouring something out of a pan into a dish. At least, that was until the boy decided the pasta was lacking a little bit of “zest,” so to speak.  

“Jungkook, where’d you put the basil?” he asked while shuffling through the refrigerator. 

"In the fridge, second drawer,” Jungkook answered, going back to take a bite of his steak. “Why?” 

“The pasta needs some green!” he said with far too much energy in his voice. 

Jimin, Taehyung, Seokjin, Hoseok, Jungkook, and Yoongi all looked at one another with the same puzzled expression before shrugging it off. That classical fiction analysis class was probably making him go kooky. The peace lasted for about half a second until Namjoon asked where Jimin had put the knife. 

Their calm expressions immediately turned into ones of sheer terror as they looked at each other and scrambled out of their seats at the speed of light.

“Namjoon!” they screamed in unison. 

Kat nearly dislocated her jaw. “He texted you again? What did he say? Did you text him back? What did you say? Was he being a dick again? How—”

You smacked your hand across her mouth in an effort to shut her up. Her overzealous energy was really a double-edged sword. On certain days, you absolutely thrived on it. On days like this, you hated it with a burning passion more than you hated maidenhair ferns. They were beautiful in theory but were a bitch to keep happy. 

“Kat,” you stopped. “I love you and I would do anything for you, but I really need you to just shut up for right now, okay?” Nodding slowly at your request, you carefully peeled your hand off of her mouth. 

“Are you okay?” she asked instead, much calmer than before. “You seem a little off.” 

Sighing, you decided it would just be better if you showed her the texts. 

Douchebag: hey ______, is this ur number? [ 2:22 p.m.] 

Douchebag: i got a new phone that’s y [ 2:23 p.m.]

                                                                                         You: yea [ 2:29 p.m.] 

Douchebag: how’ve you been [ 2:35 p.m.] 

                                                                             You: good, you? [ 2:42 p.m.] 

Douchebag: {download image.jpeg} [ 2:44 p.m.]

Douchebag: I wanted to snap u this cuz I was wearing the sweater you got me but I guess u don’t have snap lol [ 2:45 p.m.]

                                                                   You: I deleted all of my apps                                                                               and never got back to                                                                                        reinstalling them, sorry [ 2:50 p.m.]

Scrolling through the rest of the messages, Kat scoffed in disbelief. “I knew he was scum, but catching up after three years of nothing and acting like everything is peachy keen is a new level of assholery,” she rambled on. 

You rolled your eyes, resting your elbow on the counter and palm cradling your temple. “What can I say. I definitely know how to pick them well.” 

“And the goddamn audacity of him to send a shirtless pic, masking it as a ‘thank-you for buying me that sweater’ schtick?” she growled, fist clenching around nothing while picturing his face.

“An absolute disgrace,” you tagged along. 

“It’s not your fault, ______,” Kat soothed. “I would’ve fallen for his mind games too if he charmed me like that.” She took a sip of her iced coffee and shook her head vigorously. “God he makes me want to punch him in his stupid ugly face with that stupid dumb grin and those stupid poofy curls in his stupid misshaped head—”

“Kat,” you warned again, begging her to calm down. Her vernacular wasn’t the best, but damn was it amusing at times. “We just texted back and forth to kill some time. It didn’t mean anything and it’s not happening again.” It felt like you were trying to convince yourself more than her. 

She studied your expression carefully before deciding what to say next. “If he ever crosses the line again, call me.” Placing her hand over your free hand, she gave it a good squeeze. The edges of your lips curved into the tiniest smile and you instantly felt at ease. 

“Have I ever told you how lucky and grateful I am to have met you?” you chuckled, ignoring the throbbing in your temple that started early in the morning. 

Tossing her hair behind her shoulders like an actress from the Golden Age of Hollywood, her teeth glimmered like diamonds against the bright red lipstick she had on. “As am I, my pumpkin patch sweet pea,” she beamed.

Covering your face to hide your painful grin, the door chimed, welcoming a customer. You fanned your face to calm down your rosy cheeks. “Welcome!” you greeted with your usual bright tone. 

“Don’t touch anything,” someone criticized, the quiet sound of a hand smacking skin resounding through the small shop. 

“I didn’t!” another voice, most likely the one who was scolded, replied in an irritated whisper. 

Sitting up straight, you saw three young men standing right by where the glass terrarium displays were set up. You’d recognize that toothy smile and round face anywhere.

“Jungkook!” Finally getting out of your chair, you couldn’t help but be excited to see his face again. Kat’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as she stared back and forth between you and the guys with a blatant, “are you kidding me, you met a cute guy and didn’t bother mentioning it to me” face.

Poking the shoulder of his friend who was scolded, Jungkook greeted you with his signature smile and energetic wave. “______! Namjoon, Jimin, this is ______.” 

The taller one shook your hand. “Nice to meet you,” he spoke gently with a close-lipped smile and sensed a child-like wisdom from him that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on. It didn’t help that his horn-rimmed glasses made him look like a teacher and a student. 

“Jimin, wonderful to meet you.” The shorter-statured boy addressed you with a nearly angelic tone, voice softer than what you’d imagine clouds to feel like between your fingertips. His silver-dyed hair added to his overall ethereal aura.

Still sat at the counter, a starstruck Kat greeted the three with more confidence and gusto than you could ever muster. “Honored to meet you, I’m Kathryn but please call me Kat.” She strummed her fingers in the air as if she were plucking a harp. Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon grinned, already sensing the quirky nature of her personality. Yup, Kat’s so-called “Kat-Attack” was definitely contagious. 

If you had a dollar for every time you blushed because of Jungkook and/or his friends, you’d have enough money to buy your own greenhouse—and live in said greenhouse. It wasn’t until Kat forcefully coughed up her left lung out that you registered how long you had been shaking Jimin’s hand. Pulling away abruptly, you let out an awkward chuckle. This was totally not weird at all—just three attractive, charming, attractive young men who waltzed into your shop on an ordinarily quiet day. Nothing weird. God, you were making it so weird—

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, do you guys want anything?” Kat asked out of the blue. If she was going to do what you think she was about to do...

“No, that’s alright,” Jimin turned down kindly. “We stopped by a café on the way here, but thank you for offering.” 

“No problem at all!” Kat smirked just the slightest bit while saying this as if she’d gotten away with a bank heist. “I’ll see you after work, ______!” As she was walking outside, you saw her shoot you a mischievous wink through the glass before running off. 

“So,” you started, trying your best to carry on the conversation as if you weren’t the most socially awkward human in the world. “What brings you and your friends in today?” 

Jungkook, still as shy as ever, ruffled his hair lightly out of habit. “Well, you see, me Taehyung, and another friend of ours moved into an apartment a while back, and it still doesn’t feel...” he paused, trying to think of the right word. “—homey enough.” 

While listening to Jungkook, Jimin and Namjoon were exploring the shop, taking in everything they could with their eyes, smelling what they could with their nose, and feeling every leaf and petal with their fingertips. 

“We’re not the roommates,” Namjoon joked. “He dumped us ‘a while back.’” He acted out air quotes around the last three words. You held back a snort. 

“He didn’t dump us, Joon,” Jimin corrected. “He found someone else who makes him happier.” Jimin pouted, raising the back of his hand to his forehead and sniffling like a kid. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes and scoffed. “These two goofballs are with my other friend,” he clarified. “Taehyung, Seokjin and I have a pretty hectic schedule because of, you know...” Jungkook’s face was dusted with a shade of pink, clearly still too bashful to admit that he was a model. 

“I understand,” you nodded, still biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from smiling too much. “So you, Taehyung, and Seokjin share an apartment while Jimin, Namjoon, and—?” Trailing the sentence off with a higher pitched voice, Jimin got the message. 

“Hoseok,” he finished for you. “He’s an even bigger dolt than me and Joon combined, trust me.” The image he painted made you giggle.

Eventually, you arrived at the best conclusion you could form with the information given. “Right, so the six of you are best friends and live in two apartments.” 

“In theory, yes,” Namjoon established. “But we also have Yoongi who lives by himself.” 

“He’s the guy who Taehyung and I came in asking advice for?” Jungkook clarified, helping you recall back to the first time you met them. 

You heard Jimin exhale deeply. “He’s sort of like the dad of our group, if you know what I mean. Quiet, kind of emotionally detached but in reality just doesn’t know how to express himself—that kind of thing.” 

“Oh.” It slipped out by accident and sounded more melancholic than you thought. You tried coming up with something to neutralize your slip-up. “I’m really glad he has you guys as family.” 

Jimin and Jungkook gave you a heartfelt smile—then there was a thud. 

Turning around, Namjoon was hiding his face behind his hand while rubbing his temple. The grow light that was hanging still from the ceiling was now swinging back and forth like a pendulum. 

You were wincing as if you felt his pain secondhand. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded too quickly as if trying to convince you that he was really okay. “Fine. Good. Flower shop. Plants need light. Forgot about the dangling lights. A lot of them.” he sputtered like a morse code machine. 

Turning back to Jungkook and Jimin, they too had their faces buried in their hands out of sheer embarrassment. Sometimes, people found it hard to believe that Namjoon was that clumsy in his actions, but even harder for Jungkook and Jimin to tell them that he was their senior. 

“Anyway,” Jungkook coughed. “Our new place looks kind of uninviting and Jimin thought adding a couple of plants might make it more cozy.” 

Jimin had made his way to the syngoniums and rhaphidophoras. “We have better luck with plants than Namjoon and Yoongi. They don’t exactly have the greenest thumbs.” 

Chuckling, you directed their attention to the macrame the 6-inch pothos n’joy that cascaded from the ceiling. Coincidentally, Namjoon was inspecting that exact one. Perfect. “Actually, he’s a pretty forgiving little guy.” Stepping up the ladder and bringing him down, Jungkook’s eyes grew big and his hands flew out to hold the ladder steady. “Thanks,” you blushed again.  

Holding the plant up close now, you let them admire the creamy white variegation, watercolor patches of green, lighter patches of green, and the lush leaves. You also showed them the golden pothos, which was a more of a typical chlorophyll green, but it had beautiful yellow and white specks of variegation throughout the foliage. 

“I’m assuming you’re all still beginners,” you inferred, to which they all nodded in agreement. “These guys need lots of bright light, but don’t press them up against a window or they’ll get sunburn,” continuing to explain. 

“Water them every few weeks and wait until they’re bone dry, then give them a good, thorough drench. Don’t overwater them or they’ll hate you for it, trust me. They rarely ever need fertilizer, but I’ll give you guys some packets to last you a couple of months.” 

“Can we take them all home?” Jimin gawked, head tilted up towards the sky and staring at the ceiling that was ornate with vining, trailing, hanging, and branching foliage. 

An amused laughter left your lips. “I wish you could, but the next time you come and visit I’ll let you take one of those home,” you promised. “If you want another eye-candy foliage one, you could also take home a brasil.” Holding up the heart-leafed philodendron, the neon yellow stripes down the median of each leaf and clusters of light and dark green looked like they were hand-painted.

“Oh me, me, me!” Jimin’s hand shot up in the air, flapping it back and forth vigorously. 

“Could I take one of these too?” Namjoon inquired with a 6-inch pot in hand. “Rhaphid—off... fera—?” he tried to sound out, earning another giggle from you. 

“Rhaphidophora tetrasperma but it’s more commonly known as a mini monstera,” you clarified. He formed his lips into an o shape, caressing the delicate split-leaved foliage. “I think you’d be more than able to take care of that one.” Jungkook coughed to hide his snort. 

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t drown it,” Jimin assured, throwing you a sly wink. Add another dollar to your bank account, would you? 

“Hello, last time I checked we came here to buy housewarming gifts for my house?” Jungkook reminded them in the form of a rhetorical question. 

You patted him on the shoulder to wipe the pout off his face. “There’s more than enough plant love to go around.” 

“We’re gonna be here all day...” Jimin sighed in content, gently feeling the fuzzy leaves of some African violets. “Say sorry to my bank account for me, will you?” 

“I second that,” Namjoon added. “What on earth is this?” Holding up a 2-inch grow pot, you pursed your lips at his dumbfounded expression, eyebrows raised and wrinkled at the odd looking succulent. 

“It’s a lithops.” His face contorted more at your reply “They’re also known as living stones. As they grow, they split in half and pop out little baby lithops.” 

Blinking to process what he had just heard, Jimin groaned and shielded his eyes. “Don’t say it, Joon.” Looking closer at the plant Joon was holding, Jungkook parted his mouth—

“It looks like a lil’ol buttcrack,” Namjoon pointed out bluntly. The three of you let out a synchronous sigh and buried your faces into your hands, but couldn’t help and burst into laughter right after. 

“We are going to be here all day, aren’t we,” Jungkook said muffled through his hands still covering his face.

After the last crappy 72 hours, you were more than grateful to have them keep you company for the day. "I’m more than happy to make some new friends while doing my job.” The words flowed freely from your mind, excited to get to know them better. 

After sending each of the guys home with enough plants they could manage to carry, you closed up the shop for the day. Kat texted you right after the guys left in a panic. She completely blanked about the gala she had to attend for her design and commerce class and was running to catch the metro. You could tell she was still adamant on wearing her fashionable but not functional cube-heeled oxfords, as her texts were a mixture of all-caps lock and garbled, choppy sentences. 

As you made your way back to your apartment, you couldn’t help but hear a jumble of voices arguing with each other in your head.

Text him back, he misses you. 

Don’t. He’s just using you to get what he wants again. He’ll leave just like that last time. Remember last time? You don’t want that to happen again do you?

Scum. Dirtbag. Trash. User.

What if he means it this time? 

Asshole. Player. Heartbreaker. 

Maybe he’s changed. 

Don’t do it. Put your phone down.

What if he actually misses me? What if it’s different this time? Just text him. Nothing bad will happen if you text him once. 

Everything bad that can happen will happen, it’s only a matter of—

The slamming of your door seemed to silence the conflicting pieces of your collective conscience. Leaning against the door, you clicked your lock and pressed your hand against your chest, willing yourself to calm down.

You tossed your keys onto the counter and jumped into the shower as soon as you threw your clothes into the laundry basket. The steam engulfed your body with a pleasant heat, releasing the tension in your neck and shoulders that had built up from the sleepless nights in bed. 

After spending a little less than an hour in your makeshift steam sauna, you remembered that you actually had utility bills to pay. You quickly got out of the shower and slipped on your usual attire of joggers and an old shirt. The place was chilly, so you slipped on a cardigan for good measure. With your hair wrapped in a towel, you searched through your fridge for something to eat.

“Damn.” The words left your lips before you could stop them. 

Of course, it was pretty much empty. You were so caught up with spring orders for the past few weeks, you didn’t get a chance to stop by the grocery store on your way home. Settling on half of a turkey sandwich leftover from yesterday, you were grateful you still had a few cans of soda left to compliment tonight’s gourmet feast. 

You made yourself comfortable on your couch that was arranged right across your balcony. There was no use in having a TV if you couldn’t afford to pay the electric bills, and you wanted to utilize the limited space of your studio to its fullest. The fizz of the soda nearly made you choke. It had been a hot minute since you had soda, relying purely on coffee for the past few years to give you that caffeine boost. 

The sound of sirens wailing echoed throughout the city and pierced through the hum of traffic with ease. Leaning your head back into the dense cushion, you closed your eyes and listened; the relentless thumping of your upstairs neighbors, probably having another night of friends over; the faint shouts from the restaurant across the street that was overflowing with diners, typical of a Friday night; the gentle whisper of cold air that bled through the crack of your sliding balcony door. You needed to get that fixed ages ago. 

The food wasn’t going down well. It was that damn soda. Putting down the last few bits of the sandwich, you stood up and stepped outside onto your balcony. The lights flickered on and you admired the plant shelves you’d set up a few days after moving in. It was a teeny tiny space, but the luscious array of green, pinks, reds, white, and every color in between made it all the more bearable. 

You propped your elbow up against the rail that guarded the edge and breathed in for four seconds, held it for five, and exhaled for six. It was working, right? Your hands came up to the sockets of your eyes, applying the slightest bit of pressure to them. There were days where you really wanted to sleep for days on end; a hibernation, if you will. Today was most definitely one of those days. There was one problem—how were you supposed to fall asleep if you were too afraid to?

You were scared of seeing him in your dreams. Not even dreaming about him, no—the fear of encountering him as a random stranger while you were on your way to the floral market or a jogger passing by on your stroll in the park. His face resurfaced in flashes The glimpses of your favorite memories together were now inescapable bursts composed of your worst nightmares. 

You hated him. You loathed him with all of your heart, despised him with every fiber of your being and with every single living cell in your body. You wanted to forget about him; you wanted to forget he ever existed and that he ever met you. Every single moment you shared with him and every second you wasted pining over whether he loved you back; you wanted those years of your life back. 

But you knew better than anyone that time was never forgiving, and you would never get to relive those years ever again.

The funny thing—actually the hilarious thing—was that you hated yourself more than you hated him. You hated yourself for being the one who introduced yourself to him at that stupid party; you never should have gone to that stupid fucking party. You were such an idiot, what were you thinking? 

All those days, months, and years you spent constantly hovering over your phone, begging and pleading for him to send you a text. Something, anything to acknowledge that he still knew your name and to give you the opportunity to manipulate it into meaningless signals, then use that to convince yourself that he actually did care about you. 

You couldn’t remember for the life of you how or why you started falling for him. You both agreed to it no-strings-attached. No cuddles, no aftercare, no dates, and definitely no kissing in front of other people or hugging each other. He said his reputation would be ruined if his friends found out about you two. 

In love with the idea of being in love, you agreed without a second thought. No feelings, no crossing the line. Simple. 

Until he started breaking the rules. 

He’d get jealous of you hanging out with other guys, blowing up your phone with questions and angry paragraphs along the lines of “You’re not going to parties anymore unless it’s with me” and “I can’t believe you hung out with Aaron of all people. You know he’s a complete fuck up, right?” 

 Then he started caring—at least, acting like he did. Pretending. Faking. Lying. Masquerading. Call it whatever you will. He held you close to his chest after spending time with you in his bed, wrapping you under the covers to keep you warm. You’ll never forget the warmth of his chest as his heartbeat thumped against your ear. His fingers traced the outline of your face when he thought you were asleep, never knowing that you did everything in your power to hold back your smile. Then there were times when he’d leave you right after, making an excuse about a night out with his friends or a project due tomorrow. It was always due tomorrow. Other times he would go to the bathroom and then come back to throw you a towel. 

“My roommates will be here any minute. You should hurry up,” he’d warn.

Case and point, his games worked. After three years, you were head over heels for him. The memory of how it ended was blocked from your mind. Anytime you tried to remember that day, you always ran into a concrete wall. It was almost as if you built it to protect yourself from something, but what? 

The only thing you could recall were the tears. Maybe they were his too, but you vividly remember yours. They flooded your vision with a cloudy film, overflowing in streams and trails down your face and even causing you to choke on them. And the screaming—god, the screaming... More memories flooded in as your hands cupped your ears.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry that I want what’s best for you and that you can’t see how much I care. I’m sorry for being so blind and seeing you for who I wanted you to be, that I couldn’t see you for who you truly are! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Shutting your eyes tightly, you felt a drop of wetness fall dribble down your cheek. You were crying again. A sniffle followed the scoff that came out of your mouth. What, three years have already passed since then? Three years and you were still crying over that asshole? 

Wiping at your face with the rough fabric of your sleeve, you bit your lip to concentrate on something else. You stared at nothing to the point where everything looked blurry and your eyes stung. The temperature suddenly dropped, indicated by your shivering. You couldn’t afford to get sick and hurried back inside. 

Before you knew it, the clock had struck 11:00 p.m. and you were not the slightest bit sleepy. Sheltered in the safety of your own home, you had an idea that would not only get your mind out of the rut you’d fallen into, but also . Digging through scraps of loose paper, dry pens, and trash in general, you found your old earbuds. They worked perfectly fine, okay? Why fix something when it’s not broken? 

Plugging them into your phone because yes—you had a phone which was one of the dying species that still had a headphone jack—you turned on your favorite playlist (appropriately titled stre$$ed) and commenced dancing in your room like someone from the 70′s. The only thing missing was a pair of flare-cut jeans, a splotchy tie-dyed shirt, and a pair of Kat’s over-the-top disco boots.

Even though your neighbors were assholes about keeping it down after lights out, you chose to be the bigger person and take their residence into consideration. Mouthing the words silently and jumping as softly as you could, your damp hair stuck to the edges of your face and flung around, hitting your cheek a couple of times. Truth be told, you were far past the point of caring. 

Each time your foot came thumped against the plush carpet was an invigorating strike; every head bob was a liberating release; each labored breath and winded puff felt like the exact opposite, a breath of fresh air.

An escape. 

You flopped onto the bed with a heavy exhale, trying to catch your breath. Panting, your face felt hot and every part of your lungs burned like you were being roasted alive on a bonfire. The back of your hand felt cool against your forehead and your eyes began drooping at the soothing touch. Before you could pull the covers up, darkness engulfed your senses and you were out like a light. 

Yoongi couldn’t sleep. He had counted backwards from one hundred, two hundred, five hundred, and maybe a thousand. He tried listening to a random playlist full of rain sounds, alpha waves, crickets, and a fireplace crackling. All that came from that was an unnecessary number of bathroom trips, ear scratching, skin itching, and throwing off the covers from the heat he was imagining.  

Sitting up in annoyance, Yoongi sat on the edge of his bed with his forehead resting on his hand, elbow propped up on his elbow. He couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about his job, the deadlines he had to meet, the songs he had to make, lyrics that still needed to be written, phone calls and emails he needed to send out—he was supposed to call his mom during lunch. 

“Fuck,” he swore, rubbing his eyes again. Looking at his alarm clock, the time 12:12 a.m. was outlined in blue. He initially settled on the traditional red one while at the store, but Hoseok convinced him to opt for a more “peppy color.” Yoongi’s lips curved into a soft grin at the memory. Within seconds, his eyebrows knitted together into a frown and his eyes flickered, the subtle expression he bore moments ago now a stone cold gaze. 

No matter how hard he tried and how badly he wished and prayed, he couldn’t compel himself to cry. Despite his adamant concentration and determination, he didn’t shed a tear. Not being able to force it out without knowing what it was, proved to be absolutely suffocating. 

He tried focusing on something else. The lights, the city, the sounds—he needed to focus on something else. Gazing through the window he’d familiarized himself with, Yoongi took in the view. From his room, he was able to see a picturesque layout of where the biggest main streets of the city intersected. Through the fog, he could also make out the faint edges of the longest footbridge that ran across the skyline. Looking down, the warm glow of street lamps and building lights twinkled through the dark night like man-made stars. 

Lifting his head up to the apartment complex directly across from his, there were still a couple of lights on here and there. Yoongi felt validated in the sense that he wasn’t the only one who had sleepless nights. One by one, they started to fade, each apartment light turning off as someone’s hand flicked a lever and went to sleep. It was strangely relaxing to watch. After about twenty minutes of staring intently at every person tune out for the night, he narrowed his eyes at one that remained. 

Directly across from his apartment was the faint yellow glow of someone’s balcony light. He imagined the wonderful warmth radiating from it, closing his eyes to immerse himself in the imagination. Looking closer, Yoongi saw the shadow of a woman leaning on the railing. She was shivering. 

Bringing her hand up, she wiped at her face and started laughing—crying? He couldn’t see in the dark all that well. Trying to get a closer look, he forgot about the glass that separated him from the outside world and face planted the pane. Wincing in pain, he wrinkled his nose and inhaled sharply through his two front teeth. 

He shook it off and centered his vision back to the balcony opposite to his room, remembering to open the window this time. Cold air bit at his cheeks but he ignored it, determined to find what he had witnessed seconds ago. The girl was still leaning on the rail and was staring at seemingly nothing. Her shoulders hiccuped up every few seconds and hands came up to wipe her face again. 

Definitely crying. 

Yoongi was awestruck. How good did it feel to finally get it out? Was it worth it? Did it feel like you could breathe again? Yoongi soon realized that he was jealous—no, he envied her ability to weep; her ability to shed real, painful, cathartic tears. 

He envied the one thing he couldn’t have and would never be able to get. 

Following your movement back inside, he should’ve gone back to bed himself, but for some reason, he just couldn’t. His gut told him not to, but then again, that way of decision-making was a 50/50 bet. 

Whether it happened in the blink of an eye or this was all some sleep-deprived dream, she ended up going from crying her eyes out to dancing her heart out? She reminded Yoongi of Seokjin’s drunk dancing; good but not good, sane but not entirely, and so rhythmic yet incredibly off beat. Her vibrancy was contagious and made Yoongi smile a real smile for the first time in a while. If you told him that she had bawled herself delirious two minutes ago, he would have snorted. It looked as if she didn’t have a single worry or care in the world....

He felt like a creep. He shouldn’t be up, period. He should be sleeping, not spying on his neighbors. Worse, they weren’t even neighbors, had never met before, nor did they even come a foot close and live in the same building. 

Hell, that made it so much freaking worse. 

He sighed at how pathetic he felt. Was he that desperate for something he didn’t even know? Yoongi decided to call it a night. Crawling into his covers, they never seemed to keep him warm, no matter how tightly he wrapped himself in them. It was either searing hot discomfort paired with cold sweat or ice cold feet and teeth chattering. 

That night by whatever random laws of the universe he slept soundly. Not once did he shoot open his eyes from nightmares or stir in his sleep out of discomfort. Maybe it was from witnessing someone’s emotional outpours and experiencing them vicariously through his own means, or maybe it was the satisfaction of selecting all of his unread emails and archiving them until tomorrow, one thing was for sure—Yoongi had accomplished his goal of sleeping through an entire night; something he hadn’t done for years now... 

I’ll get out of it.

“I never thought I’d ever say this,” you started, trying to close your agape mouth. “But I think you guys might have one too many plants.” Looking at their coffee table, it was overflowing with the eight boxes you’d delivered this morning. Yes, there were eight boxes full of plants delivered to a single apartment. Marco would have the time of his life restocking for next week. Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jimin helped you carry up the boxes and were all staring at the ground sheepishly, their hands clasped behind their backs like children who were caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. 

You offered to deliver the boxes to their places separately, seeing as they had different spaces and floor plans, but that cheeky bugger Taehyung convinced you to rendezvous at his place. Then you wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of walking back and forth between the shop and their corresponding buildings, and the guys would get a chance to meet you. 

Guilt gnawed at you for making them interrupt their daily schedules just to bring home some houseplants, but Jungkook insisted that they were all free for the next two weeks; spring break for Jimin, Namjoon, and Hoseok, pre-season break and scheduling bookings for Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. 

Meeting Seokjin for the first time and Taehyung for the second was a memorable experience, to put it lightly. You walked in on them running around half naked and throwing crumpled balls of clothes at each other. Turns out they had been arguing about who’s turn it was to do the laundry and neither of them were having it. Long story short, you lived life by the rule that first impressions were a good indicator of someone’s unfiltered, raw, underlying disposition, and in this case, it proved to be entirely true in the best way possible. 

“We’ll share, we promise.” Jimin was the first to break the silence but still had trouble meeting your gaze. 

Jungkook pointed an accusing finger at Seokjin and Taehyung, his turn to talk. “They didn’t believe us after they saw how many plants we came home with, so we figured we’d invite you over to meet them in person and see whether they convert or not.” 

“Safe to say that we are officially convinced,” Taehyung raised his hands in surrender, elbowing Seokjin to do the same. 

Hiding your smile by pressing your lips together, a tingling sensation spread across your face at his odd choice of words. When you reminded them about their hectic schedules and voiced your concern about them being able to keep up with care, Seokjin revealed his contract agreement with Hoseok. “He promised that he’d come by and water them whenever we’re out of town for longer than a week,” the eldest explained while biting back a smirk. “He kind of owes me a lifelong debt...” 

Forcing out a tight-lipped sideways grin, Hoseok slung his arm over Jimin’s shoulder, bearing a smirk of his own. “Don’t worry, Jimin here owes me a debt of his own.” 

A sly grin crept along Jimin’s face. "Considering that my lifelong debt doesn’t have to do with the fact that you bl—” Before he could finish, Seokjin and Hoseok’s hands flew up faster than lightning to cover the boy’s mouth. Taehyung nearly spit out his water and the others were near tears and clutching their abdomens, their mouths sealed tight and refusing to let out one of their pact’s biggest secrets. You admired how loyal and strong their bond was, a rare thing in this day and age.

Shaking your head to distract yourself from their incessant laughter, you pressed your hand over your forehead and widened your eyes in concentration. “Well, let’s get to organizing, shall we?” 

Unpacking the boxes one by one, each contained an array of species from pothos, philodendrons, syngoniums, hoyas, pileas, peperomias, baby rubber trees, rhaphidophoras, sansevierias, ZZ plants, money trees, and finally, two mature, green monsteras for each of them to keep in their living rooms. Not knowing what kind of lighting situation they had going on, you tried to limit your recommendations to medium-light tolerant plants. After they alerted you about their east and south-exposure windows, you were relieved in your selection. 

“I call the big guy,” Jungkook cooed, picking up the staked rhaphidophora and clutching it to his chest and smirking coyly. “For my room.” 

Seokjin whined loudly. “We live in the same apartment!” 

Taehyung let out a disappointed sigh and shook his head. “You see what I have to deal with every day?” 

Namjoon reached for the philodendron micans. “It’s like velvet!” he commented in awe as he felt the leaves. It was nicknamed the velvet-leaved philodendron after all, but his reaction made you feel fuzzy with plant love. 

“Woah this looks like an alien’s flying saucer,” Hoseok noted. Picking up the pilea, it never struck you that the round, green disks did, in fact, look like flying saucers. Once everyone was satisfied with what they were taking home (it ended up taking a lot less time than you predicted), you went to work arranging them around the living room, bedroom, and kitchen, all while explaining to them the water and light requirements, periodic maintenance, and looking out for pests.

You urged Jimin, Namjoon, and Hoseok to go back to their place first, assuring that you’d meet them there. They said it was no bother and wanted to witness your working process. You were just doing your job, but seeing them fascinated by your passion and vigor was much more endearing than you thought it would be.

Just as you were hanging the macrame pot by their balcony, you heard the front door click open. Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon were holding the step ladder steady for you. 

Since you were concentrating on getting the nail at the right angle, you paid no attention to it, assuming it was Hoseok or Jungkook going to recycle the used wrapping paper and packing materials. 

“Yoongi!” Jimin called out.

“Good to see you dude,” Taehyung beamed. “Sorry, our hands are kind of full.”

“Could’ve given me a heads up that you had a guest over,” he grumbled, but you couldn’t hear through the rustling of the leaves that smacked your face. 

The sound of footsteps grew louder from afar, then paused when you felt a presence behind you. “Jungkook,” you called out, turning your shoulder and looking down to where he was standing. “Do you mind grabbing the pliers from—” 

Here’s the thing you never understood about step ladders. Standing on them is considered a safety hazard, yet it’s method of use and reason for existence is to be stood on. You wished you remembered this when you decided to turn around and look down at Jungkook, except, it wasn’t Jungkook. It wasn’t Hoseok either. Despite not wearing a mask or beanie, you instantly recognized that cold gaze, piercing through yours like daggers. 

He was equally shocked and mirrored your exact reaction, eyes growing wide and mouth parting as if you were staring through double-sided plexiglass. 

“Yoongi, this is _____,” Jungkook introduced comfortably, conversation flowing freely from him. “______, this is Yoongi. The dad Jimin talked about.” While the boys broke into convulsions of laughter, you and Yoongi were still shellshocked. Of all the people that could be in this friend circle, it had to be the guy who crossed paths with you a few of times on the street?  

You didn’t register that you’d lost your footing from the ladder until the familiar weight of gravity tipped you over. The last thing you saw were multiple pairs of hands reaching out to try and catch you, but it was too late—your body collided into his before crashing onto the floor as one whole, the clear thud of wood against flesh echoing throughout the apartment. 

That’s definitely one way to make a first impression.

[script-nef]

Your Kisses Makes It Go NEON |  Hinata Shouyou

Inspiration: [NEON — DPR LIVE]

Category: fluff

5.7k words; colours decorate your time with Hinata

Very late birthday present for our ray of sunshine. Sorry ;^;

When Hinata thinks about you, he remembers colours. 

He met you only a few months after arriving in Japan. Bokuto was going on about a bar he frequents with Akaashi, exclaiming how “the atmosphere is really relaxing and comfortable! You could spend 2 hours there and it would only feel like a few minutes have passed! Also the bartender there is a really cute girl and she’s super sweet! Her drinks are incredible!"

Hinata was never fond of alcoholic drinks—they tasted weird and had a gross aftertaste—but accepted the offer at the promise of non-alcoholic ones. (He later realises this is one of the best decisions he made in his life.)

Which was why the normally rambunctious group sat quietly—well, not that quiet. That was impossible with the combination of Bokuto and Hinata, but they tried at least—at the counter, as they skimmed through the menu filled with pictures of multi-coloured drinks. Some of the drinks had such bizarre names (Hinata’s face exploded with red when he read "Sex on the Beach” because what kind of a drink is that?) and none of them looked particularly appealing.

A soft tap on the shoulder shook Hinata out of his contemplation, and he was met with the softest eyes when he looked up. You smiled at him.

"Do you need help choosing?“

He couldn’t answer that properly.

The blue top you wore suited you perfectly, a toned-down yet vibrant colour. It contrasted against the deep red of the wallpapers, and the dim lighting made you glow almost ethereal. It somehow felt like you belonged there, like you were the centrepiece.

You snapped him out of his reverie by explaining various drinks to him, what the ingredients were and how strong it was, trying to figure out what type of drink he wanted. Which was nice of you, and he really appreciated it, but he couldn’t understand anything other than the sound of your voice.

He heard pink—soft, warm, soothing and so, so sweet—and it drowned out everything else. His teammates bickering and trying to grab your attention, the mellow classical music in the background, even his own heartbeat. It was all dissipating, leaving just you and him in a bubble of calm.

And he couldn’t help but hope to hear your voice every day.

Hinata started frequenting your bar. ("My cousin’s the actual owner.” You told him on his third visit. “But I helped him decorate, so I feel like it’s mine as well.”) He still doesn’t like alcohol and you laughed when he described the tastes. He then realised that it was rude to complain about it to a bartender and began apologising profusely, but you just waved it off.

"It’s okay, not everyone likes the same things. There’s a wide variety of non-alcoholic drinks for you to enjoy. Like this one.“ You slid a mocktail over, and he beamed before sipping away at the yellow drink. The flavours burst on his tongue, and words could never fully encompass these sensations. A zesty explosion which reminded him of the beach and his experience in Brazil. Hinata sometimes wondered if you were a witch. Surely an ordinary person couldn’t evoke so many memories and emotions from a mere drink.

He couldn’t stop himself as he let out a content sigh, his face morphing into that of utter bliss. Every drink you made was yellow or orange, as vibrant as the sun and somehow tasted like them too. He asked you about it and you just giggled in response.

"It’s because you remind me of the sunshine, Hinata-san. You have an unbelievable amount of energy and unbridled happiness, it’s hard not to think of it when I look at you. Whenever you visit, I feel like I’m getting a vitamin D boost and it gets me through the next few days. And… the fact that your hair is orange really solidifies the image.”

He moved to touch his hair almost self-consciously, but you stopped him in his tracks by blurting out, “It suits you! Your hair, I mean. It helps you stand out in your matches and… you look adorable."

That stopped Hinata in his tracks. You looked away from him, cheeks dusted with red as you cleaned a cup. Hinata’s brain started spinning faster than ever. She just called me cute. No, wait, it was adorable but they’re synonyms. She just said I’m cute. And she watches our matches! Oh God, that means she watched all those times I couldn’t receive the ball properly. The insanely nice and pretty girl has seen some of my worst moments on the court.

"Do you… watch our games, [Surname]-san?” Hinata asked tentatively. Oh God, what if she watched the one where I fell over after I tried to receive it or the match against Inarizaki when I forgot to hit the ball?

"Just some of them. Bokuto-san kept on asking me to watch him play and… I gave in when you came. I kind of got hooked onto it after watching you, Hinata-san.“ With that, you scurried off by using another customer as an excuse, whispering a soft "excuse me”. He watched you walk away, gaining the courage to finally do what he should have done weeks ago.

You came back by the time his drink was finished, a smile replacing the blush and asking if the drink was to his taste. He replied the same way as always, “All your drinks are delicious!”

That never failed to put a smile on your face. A small grin bloomed, and Hinata took this as an opportunity.

"[Surname]-san, I wanted to ask if you were busy this Saturday? I recently found this place called Aobayama Botanical Gardens nearby and you said you like this sort of stuff, so I was wondering if you would like to come.“ Your eyes widened at that. Is he… asking me out? No, wait, don’t get ahead of yourself. Because, surely, this amazingly friendly and loveable national-level athlete would choose to spend his time with someone equally talented and amazing, right? But Hinata’s eyes were full of determination and hope, so much that it pushed you to confront your feelings as well.

"I would be delighted to take you up on that offer.” You quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled your number onto it. “Here’s my number. I’m free in the mornings, so… just give me a time, I guess."

As he stumbled out of the bar, Hinata couldn’t stop the excitement and anticipation bubbling throughout his veins, amazed at how easy that was. He let out a whoop that echoed throughout the street and ran home, desperately wishing time would flow faster.

His stomach was warm and fuzzy, and it really did feel like he drank the sun.

The 5th "date” (not officially though, since neither of you ever called it that) to a park had been cut short due to sudden downpour.

"Hinata, it’s okay if you get water on the floor! Get inside and close the door!“ Hinata hurriedly locked the door, glad to be out of the freezing shower and fierce wind. He slowly walked through the apartment, mumbling "excuse me” to no one as you were currently running around, trying to clean up and turn on the heating. A sneeze escaped him.

"Hinata, are you okay?“ You reached for his arm, only to recoil at the contact. "You’re freezing! You’ll get a cold at this rate.” You pulled him towards the bathroom, picking up some towels along the way. He was left standing on a mat in the bathroom while you ran off again. He looked around the room, taking in the details. There were small plants on the windowsill and various cosmetics littering the sink. The room smelled like you. …That was weird. Ugh, I shouldn’t be thinking that!

You came back holding a pile of clothing. “It’s my cousin’s, I don’t know if it’ll fit you though. It’s all been cleaned recently so don’t worry about that. Take a shower and I’ll have something warm ready by the time you’re done.” He opened his mouth to say “thank you”, but all that came out was another sneeze. You let out a soft shriek. “Shower! Now, Hinata! You’re an athlete, you can’t be sick!” You slammed the door on your way out.

—

The clothes fit him fine. When he came out, you were in the kitchen, stirring a cup.

"Ah, Hinata. Here you go, hot chocolate and some snacks. Sorry, but I have to go and shower as well. You can watch TV or read my books.“ You disappeared into your room, his calls of "You should have showered first! Thank you!” echoing in the hallway. He took a sip, enjoying the warmth travelling down his throat.

He scanned the house, immediately noticing the incredible amount of greenery you had on display and tucked in corners. Small slivers of light from the windows reflected off the leaves and basked the room in a soft green tone. There were a few he remembered from your trips to various gardens, (probably because he hung from your words like they were the most interesting information on earth) and some he couldn’t. He knew you would be able to recite the name, scientific name, meaning and other interesting facts as soon as he asked. You had an avid fascination for flora and alcoholic drinks, which was usually an odd combination but it suited you perfectly.

You came out soon, changed into comfortable sleepwear, and saw him stroking a leaf. It felt kind of weird, having your crush in your house. It’s not like it was hard for Hinata to creep his way into your heart, what with his brilliant smile and incessant energy. He was genuinely interested in everything you said even if it was trivial, like what you had for lunch or rowdy customers who are a pain. And you desperately wanted to let him into your life, to confess your affections for him. But what if you gave him your heart and it ends like last time? Hinata won’t do that, but… That’s what I thought before as well… No! Nope, let’s not think about that. You opted to sneak behind the unsuspecting boy, pushing the thoughts into a corner of your mind.

"That’s a Chinese money plant.“ Hinata shrieked at your sudden presence behind him. ”Pilea peperomioides, but I find the name pancake plant cuter. Come here, you need to dry your hair off. Can’t have you getting sick with a match next month.“ You sat on the sofa while he sat on the floor in front of you, giving full access to his damp mop of hair.

You rubbed at it gently with a fresh towel, admiring the orange locks. It became fluffy and bouncy so quickly. You loved it.

“[Surname]-chan?” You hummed. “Can I ask why you have so many plants?” Your hands stopped moving against his hair at that, and Hinata stiffened as well. It was only for a split second though, and you continued your ministrations.

“I like taking care of them, I guess. I used to date this person… and uh, it didn’t end that well. They weren’t that good of a person, let alone a partner. They just kept saying how lucky I was to be with them and that no-one else would love me… How much they hated my voice… But my cousin, the one that owns the bar, he helped me move over here away from them. He also introduced me to plant therapy to help me and well… It got out of hand, I guess.” You let out a soft chuckle, but it was laced with sadness and regret. “I’m sorry, this is a depressing topic, isn’t it? You don’t have to listen to all of my rambling, just forget about this.”

“I love you!” You looked down at him in surprise. Hinata’s face heated up, mouth set into a determined grin in order to not show how much he’s embarrassed by his sudden outburst. He clambered onto the sofa, gripping both of your hand tightly in his. “[Surname]-chan, don’t ever think or listen to anyone like that! I know we met only half a year ago, but you are one of the most kind and understanding and enthusiastic and strong person I have ever seen! These plants symbolise your strength and hope for a better future, so who cares if you have fifty or a hundred? You deserve the world and everything in it, and I…” He paused, squeezing your hands even tighter. “I love you! I’ve liked you since we met for the first time at your bar, my heart just stopped when I first saw you and all I could think when you talked to me was how much I love your voice!”

Hinata’s face was absolutely ablaze now, red covering every inch of his skin, but his steady gaze was filled with nothing but sincerity. “It’s getting repetitive but I really, really love you! And I… I want you to know that I would never treat you like that, and I’ll always tell you how much you brighten up my day by just texting me, or how cute your unending enthusiasm for your plants are. So… if you’re willing to trust me… will you go out with me?” The blushing settled down and Hinata’s lips were trembling slightly, fearing for the worst.

You were quiet, blinking owlishly at him. Seconds, which felt more like hours to Hinata, ticked past and silence continued. Hinata’s burst of confidence started to shrivel at your lack of response. Ah, maybe… maybe I’m too fast. She’s not comfortable and I’m pushing her too far! He retracted his hands from yours, moving away from the sofa.

“[Surname]-chan, I’m sorry, I’ll lea-”

“Wait!” You grabbed onto his hand, pulling him back onto the sofa. He fell with a soft “oof” and you crawled over to him. “Yes.” He stared at you.

“…Yes?” You nodded firmly, lips quirking into a delighted smile.

“Yes.”

Hinata froze for a moment before exploding into a happy squeal, arms wrapping around you and giggling into your neck. You wound your arms around his body as well, nudging your nose into the side of his face. Peals of laughter escaped from your lips. You could feel his heart thudding rapidly against your chest.

He pulled back to cover your cheeks with his hands before squealing delightedly once more and peppered kisses onto your face.

“Ahhh I’m so happy [Name]-chan!! I swear I’ll be the bestest boyfriend you’ve ever had!!”

And you don’t doubt him.

Cheers echoed throughout the stadium as Hinata spiked down the last point needed for the set and the game. His team crowded around him, with the exception of Sakusa, congratulating each other for another win. Hinata escaped from all the head rubs and back pats, eyes shifting to where you sat. You waved upon eye contact, yelling something out which was muted under everyone else’s screams.

His heart swelled, thudding hard against his chest and about to escape through his mouth. He put the sensation on pause, remembering to show his respect to the opposing team and to respond to various reporters. He really tried to give a coherent reply to the interviewer’s questions. He really did. But the amount of energy in him even after playing five full sets was threatening to explode at the thought of you.

The reporter finally thanked him for his time and Hinata wasted no time after bowing and rushed to you. He leapt over the small barricade and engulfed you in his arms, enjoying the feel of your skin and the smell of your perfume. People clamoured around you two, surprised the star player would suddenly barge into the crowd. He heard his teammates whistling cheekily, probably taking pictures to embarrass him later. But you were more important right now.

You ripped yourself away from his grasp, delight and amazement in your eyes. "Shouyou! Oh my god, that was so amazing how you spiked it down and wow, the videos don’t do you any justice at all! My eyes could barely follow you from all your running and jumping!” You babbled on about his performance, thanking him repeatedly for the ticket. He beamed so brilliantly, it was nearly blinding.

“Thanks, [Name]-chan! I’m so glad you came to watch!” And also that I didn’t make any mistakes in front of you. Hinata honestly thought he would shrivel in shame if he made a reckless mistake—such as the one a few months ago, when he stumbled over nothing and didn’t make it in time for the spike. (You commented about it a few days ago. He was mortified that his girlfriend—he still can’t believe you’re his girlfriend—saw such an embarrassing moment.)

You had shined brightly under the stadium lights, contrasting the black top with black slacks you were wearing. “It’s because I’m rooting for your team!” You said that just before the match, grasping his hand in yours. You hadn’t wished him good luck, “because I know you’re going to win this, Shouyou! You don’t need luck!” His heart rate had skyrocketed at your confidence in him, giving him the extra adrenaline to win the game 3:2. Even the commentators had noticed the excess energy he had, but it had been kind of obvious since he was jumping around everywhere without a break and didn’t look tired at all.

Ah, I love her so much. The thought filled Hinata’s head. He heard his teammates calling for him, yelling that he needed to change out of his sweaty uniform, but it felt like his limbs were physically attached to you. He just wanted to stay in this moment, high on adrenaline and your love for him. You gently pried him off, promising to meet him at the entrance of the stadium so you could finish the day with a date.

He nodded gleefully, taking one last look at you before, very reluctantly, detaching himself from you. He noticed the red lipstick you were wearing, the one he bought for you last week because yours had broken the day before. It took him the whole day with Yachi because there were so many shades and tones and something called hues? He didn’t even understand half of them, but he tried his best to find one which was a similar colour to your previous one. The smile on your face when he presented it to you was worth floundering around for the whole day.

You wore it constantly and Hinata was delighted that it suited your taste so well. Just as he was about to walk away, he turned back to quickly press a kiss onto your lips, taking some of the makeup when he pulled away. The whole stadium, spectators and players alike, gawked at his action, many blushing at the PDA and others squealing.

Your face burst into a flaming red as Hinata casually walked away, like he didn’t just kiss you. On camera. Which is live right now. Like literally, right now. In front of thousands of people and probably thousands more on the other sides of countless monitors.

Hundreds of articles and reports were made, headlines congratulating the Black Jackals for another win while displaying his beaming face with smudges of red on his lips. You could be seen in the background, crouching with your face buried in your hands.

(You reprimanded him severely for his actions, but more kisses being poured onto your lips cut it short.)

Shouyou loves your enthusiasm for celebrating special occasions. Christmas, Cherry Blossom Festival, New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Obon. You once took a day off and whisked him off to Sapporo for the Snow Festival. He treasures the memory of your amazed face admiring the snow sculptures. He tried to make one for you but it ended up as a misshapen lump of ice. A photograph you managed to snap before it melted in his palm is pinned onto the large cork board in the living room.

But your favourite celebration by far is Halloween, or “All Hallow’s Eve, the beginning of Allhallowtide and the day to remember the dead! AKA the perfect day to stuff myself with sweets and pumpkin pies with no one to say anything to me!” as you called it. He video-taped the second time you repeated the grand announcement, giggling at your theatrics. Halloween always brought out your inner silliness.

The third Halloween together was no different. He returned home from his training to be met with cobwebs and cutout bats decorating the walls, illuminated by candles lining the shelves and cupboards. Sweet and savoury smells assaulted his nose and you peeked out from the kitchen.

“Shouyou? You’re back earlier than I thought. Come on, and watch the candles, I made a Halloween themed dinner!” The table was packed with different foods, which was… unsettling, at least to others. A bowl of pasta topped off with eyeball meatballs, a blood-red beef stew, chicken soup with pastry hands hanging out… Shouyou remembered his first Halloween with you, when he nearly fainted. But he learnt the charm of Halloween thanks to your overflowing interest in the day and now he loves it as much as you.

“This looks amazing, [Name]-chan!” He noticed your costume—a long, flowing black dress and an equally dark cape hung off your shoulder. The ensemble was topped off with a crooked hat. “A witch! Aw, you’re so pretty.” You pecked him on the lips.

“Correct and thank you. Your costume is in the bedroom, Shou-chan.”  He perked up at that, dashing to the room after returning your kiss. He returned soon with his outfit: a white shirt tucked underneath a red corset along with black slacks and a black cape, just like yours.

“[Name]-chan, it’s like a couple’s outfit!” He swished the cape around, flapping it like wings while running around the room. “I could be your bat familiar!”

 “Shouyou.” You had a reprimanding scowl on. “You’re making dust fly around. It’s going to go on the food!” He stopped with a “Sorry!” and took his seat on the small dining table, mouth watering at the sight. While other friends might be put off due to the visuals of your creation, nothing mattered to Shouyou other than your efforts and the taste. Which is always phenomenal.

You took a seat opposite of him, laying down mason jars filled with red liquids and eyeballs for the both of you. A chorus of “Itadakimasu!” rang through the house as you both dug into the food.

Shouyou let out an unidentifiable noise of  at the perfectly prepared dinner. He shovelled different pieces of food in, uncaring of his table manners. You laughed and reached over to wipe his mouth. Mid-way through the meal, he grumbled in annoyance as the cape collar kept poking him in the cheek and opted to remove it for the time being. Then the corset, even though it was supposed to be loose, as it was pushing down on his stomach.

By the time he tapped out, half the food on the table was finished and moans of “I can’t… eat… anymore…” escaped him and you giggled in response. His dramatics never ceased to amuse you.

“Shou-chan, help me clean the table please. We have to finish one last activity before turning in for the night.” He replied in groans. “Shou-chan! I promise you’re going to love this, but I need you to help me. Come on, just wrap them up and move them to the fridge, please.” He reluctantly lifted his head from the table and followed your orders, carefully sealing the dishes off.

By the time he moved all the food, the table was covered with spare newspapers and a huge pumpkin was laid on top of it. He gasped at the sight, realisation dawning on him. “Are we making a jack-o’-lantern?!” When you nodded in confirmation, a shriek of delight left him. You immediately calmed him down, reminding him that this is an apartment and people can hear him. It did nothing to stop his energy.

“Shou-chan, you do know that this requires knife work and I can’t give it to you if you’re this fidgety, right?” That seemed to work. He immediately stopped his restlessness, giving you puppy eyes as if to say “I won’t misbehave”. You knew it wouldn’t even last for 5 minutes.

The process of pumpkin carving actually turns out to be quite easy and smooth-sailing despite Shouyou’s absolute lack of self-control and abundance of impulsiveness. He would have eaten all of the scooped out pumpkin fillings if you didn’t stop him in time. Instead, it was dropped into your pot for a “special dish”. While it simmered on the stove, you took over to carve the face out of the pumpkin as you won the argument of “who has steadier hands and better carving skills”. Your boyfriend seemed content enough trying to pick the right candle to place inside.

“Ta-da! Done! And done quite well if I say so myself.” Shouyou looked up from his collection of candles and smiled brilliantly at your handiwork. It was a crow, its wings outstretched like it was soaring through the sky. “Do you like it? I remembered you saying your high-school team’s symbol was a crow so… I practised making it perf—”

He pulled your body into his, gripping tightly as if you were going to dissipate away. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. I don’t understand how lucky I am to have you… I love you so much [Name]-chan. So, so much.” He mumbled against your neck. You chuckled softly and ran your fingers through his hair.

“It’s the same for me, Shouyou. I’m fortunate to have you brighten up my life, to have someone like you love me.”

A candle was dropped into the finished pumpkin, the light orange light enveloping the two of you as you cuddled on the sofa. Confessions of love drifted through the air as your lips pressed against his repeatedly, something gentle and warm unfurling between your hearts.

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Shouyou received three months of paid leave. It was to help him recover from his (“slightly!”) sprained wrist and also for his non-stop involvements in all the matches so far. Fans wanted to plead for him to take a break every now and then, but seeing his joyful face on the court made them swallow down their complaints. So when the notice of his brief leave became official, the comment section was filled with encouragements and “have fun with your girlfriend!”

Which was why he planned three months’ worth of travelling—from Japan to South Korea to Iran to Russia to Poland to Italy to France to the US to Brazil to Argentina and back—with you accompanying him. You gladly accepted his invitation, full of anticipation at exploring through the various countries. You asked about the odd destination choices, which he replied with a mumble of “…they have high-ranking volleyball teams.” His enthusiasm for the sport, even when he was injured, never ceased to amaze you.

“I’m glad you’re making the most of this time, Shou.” Your fingers carded through his hair while rubbing it dry. This became one of his favourite activities with you, other than snuggling and kissing. Or sleeping together. Or getting into tickle fights. Or eating together. (He just loves everything he does with you.)

“Yep! This will be an amazing opportunity to see all the other athletes! I already called them and they all said yes! But… are you fine with it?” He peeked up from his spot underneath you. “I want you to enjoy this trip as well, not just because I’m forcing you to come with me.” You smiled and placed a kiss on his nose.

“Of course I’m fine, Shou. As long as you don’t leave me alone the whole time for volleyball, I guess.” He spluttered an “Of course not! I’ll only watch them for a couple of hours, all the rest of our time can be used for sight-seeing! I bet this trip is going to be life-changing!”

And it was. Shouyou’s mornings were spent in various stadiums, eyes digging into each player’s forms like a hawk. Turning practice match offers down was practically torture for him, but he couldn’t play against them to due to his injury. When his thoughts of “I can play just this once!” surfaced, his promise with you of “no playing until your finger is fully healed” interrupted him. And he would sooner die than ever break a promise with you.

He would then return to the hotel around lunch to cuddle and share a meal with you. You would be stuck in the bed due to jet lag—how Shouyou managed to be so unaffected when you were half-dead is a mystery—but a few kisses and you would be as wide awake.

The afternoon was used to explore the city, ranging from famous land-marks to small eateries which was recommended to him via comments. (His fans around the world were so helpful.) He held your hand as you weaved through the streets and squeezed through large crowds, gripping firmly as if to say “I’m never letting you go.” Small souvenirs were bought by sets and hundreds of photos were taken to be weeded through and uploaded onto social media. Each city in each country was scouted the same way, and it was honestly paradise on Earth.

“Shou, there’s somewhere I want to go.” You whispered to him on the last night of your stay in Brazil. He moved so that he would be laying at eye-level to you, his body pressing onto yours. “It might mess up the schedule a bit, but there’s somewhere I really, really want to go. It’ll only take a day out of our stay in Argentina.” Your eyes sparkled despite the darkness of the night. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

—

The tour bus was comfier than you expected, gliding across the paved road in the middle of nowhere. Shouyou slept soundly next to you, face half-covered with thick blankets and fluffy pillows. You pulled a hand out from your cocoon of warmth, gently tracing his facial features. His serene face was rare, even when he was sleeping as it normally contorted to match whatever dreams he was having.

A wave of affection washed over you, threatening to drown your senses. Ah, how did I get so lucky? To be with someone this kind, this understanding and this loving. You placed a small kiss on his lips, jostling him awake as the bus slowed down to a stop. He let out a yawn, noticing the proximity of your face to him and gave you a quick peck.

“[Name]-chan? Why have we stopped?” The driver turned on weak lights, awakening other passengers as well. Shouyou leapt up from his seat, grabbing his jumper and yours at the driver’s words. “We’re here! Come on, we need to go!” Your eyes lit up in delight as you took his hand, bounding out of the bus.

The wide expanse of Uyuni’s salt flat greeted you. The night sky was clear, illuminated by the Milky Way and its countless stars. The usually dry plain was wet thanks to a timely shower a couple of hours ago, reflecting the lights off the crystalline ground like an enormous mirror.

The heavy smell of salt assaulted your nose as you stepped onto the ground, softly cracking as you walked on it. Shouyou was right next to you, eye glimmering at the ineffable sight before him. You ventured to the middle of the plain, leaving the gasps of delight and bewilderment of other travellers.

The violet sky was everywhere, underneath your feet and above you. Shouyou caught up, hugging you from behind and squeezing softly.

“I understand why you wanted to come. This is beyond beautiful.” He whispered into your ear, eyes gazing off into the distance. You nodded softly. It felt right, underneath the spotless sky and in the arms of your lover. This is the moment.

Shouyou ripped his arms off of your body at the sensation on his finger. A gold band sat on his finger, glimmering in the starlight. He gaped at it, eyes wide in astonishment. His mouth repeated to open and close, unable to find the correct words as his mind went blank.

“[Name]-chan?! What’s this?!” He shrieked at you, finally finding his voice. “Wh-what what. What. Am I dreaming? Did you just- is this-” You laughed at his flustered state, falling into his embrace while he didn’t take his eyes off the piece of jewellery.

“Yes, Shouyou. It is.” You held him at arm’s length, a hand cupped on his cheek. “The last 5 years with you were… indescribable. You never stopped showering me with affection, always made me feel loved and accepted me for who I am. I never felt neglected despite your constant absence for volleyball… if anything, you motivated me with your endless enthusiasm for the sport. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I hadn’t met you, nor one without you.” You smiled softly, wiping the tears trickling down his cheeks. “So, Hinata Shouyou—the love of my life, my heart and soul—will you marry me?”  

Dry heaving and shuddering cries left his mouth as he nodded, broken declarations of love and “yes” mumbled against your lips in between hitched gasps for air. You kissed him back, giggling at his unending affection.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best to make you happy for— for the rest of your life.”

“I know you will, my love. I will too.”

Life changing trip indeed.

blue,

pink,

yellow,

green,

red,

orange,

violet,

you.

[lynndoublelegacy]

just a cool dnd meme i saw

Yook so it’s less a meme and more like. a big ol questionare but hey, might as well do it. originally saw it on @/probablyottrpgideas, go check them out

1. Game Master, Player, or both? Why?

Ok so technically I’ve DMed twice but I really don’t find it fun? and don’t ever want to do it again. so. Player. I like building characters and their connections with fellow PCs more than building worlds

2. When did you start roleplaying? How old were you?

oh god, if we’re talking about roleplaying in general? I’ve been doing it basically as long as I can remember. As a kid I would play House, and then once I got older in like 5th grade I actually started making characters and playing out their stories with friends. Google+ is what made me realize this was actually like, a THING, though, and I got into some roleplaying groups there, then on DevaintArt. Dungeons and Dragons is a newer development? I got into it in late 2018 when my sister’s friend invited us to a one-shot, and... well, yea, I got hooked lol

3. What was the first roleplaying book you ever owned?

dude, bold of you to assume I really own any. I don’t have that kind of money and literally only own the Guide to Wildemount, and that was a gift

4. Describe the first game you ever ran or played in.

I mean... it’s not a game but ima describe the one shot, bc my first campaign was a hot mess without a true storyline and I used the same character for it anyway. I played a tiefling bard called Aisling Kai (I didn’t know this was a cliche combo at this point, and I honestly played her like a rogue with a music motif but Whatever) and we were a little group tasked to figure out why the hell anyone who goes into this cave never comes out. So we go in, make our way through the dungeon, fight some frog people (I made one of their ears bleed just by getting a nat 20 on a performance check to play a high f# on flute, that was fun, FWEET), and turns out yep, theres a hill giant down here. We kicked his ass and collapsed the cave on top of us (dw I think we were fine but my memory is a little screwy)

5. What system did you grow up with? / 6. Which system do you play now?

i learned on and currently play dnd 5e. I don’t really know anything else, but I’m debating checking out Vampire of the Masquerade.

7. Longest campaign you’ve run or played in?

That would be my Tal’Dorei campaign group, aka The Fatefallen! Started in the Fall of 2019 and still going to this day, just played our 45th session last week. I play Ilia Liadon, the drow grave cleric, and the only member of our party who has been there for every single session since the beginning.

8. Where did you meet your current gaming group?

...well first I feel the need to mention that I have 3 different groups (2 of them are on hiatus now for pandemic related reasons but! we’re still groups). My first group (with Aisling) was formed slowly over time as friends adopted friends into the group, I think it started as a school club? but that didn’t last long. The other two started from a different school club as well, though one has since branched out into other people as well. 

9. Strategic combat or dramatic plotlines?

I am a roleplayer first and a gamer second. Give me all of the backstories and dramatic plotlines. Don’t get me wrong, I still like combat, but story takes precedent for me.

10. Favorite RPG genre?

I don’t tend to define myself by genre? But I tend to fall into more of a fantasy, at most arcanapunk style. Give me all of the magic, and magic powered tech.

11. Your first character.

I got into her a little bit earlier, but my first character was Aisling, aka Calypso Kai. She was a homebrew subclass bard with a criminal background, who honestly? should’ve been a rogue. I’ve since rebuilt her into an Assassin Rogue/College of Eloguence Bard multiclasser, but this iteration was like. Baby her, baby me new to dnd, I did not know what I was doing. She tried to be edgy, but my mom energy came through HARD and she just. Never really had a set characterization. She deserves better and I plan on playing her better sometime in the future.

12. Your favorite character.

You are making me choose between my children. BUT, if I had to pick, either Ilia Liadon, or! Ashe Wednesday, a protector aasimar drunken master monk and my profile picture. Ashe also deserved a lot better from their campaign, so I have a massive soft spot for them, they were made during a really tough time in my life (as was Ilia) and was going through an equally rough time in-game, since I made them for a Curse of Strahd campaign without understanding what I was getting into. They’re my little rebellious asshole and I love them dearly, someone get this kid therapy. Ilia, on the other hand, is just... she’s a comfort character for me at this point. mostly soft edges, such a mom- while Ashe was me yelling “come at me” at the world while crying, Ilia was just... embracing it. Making it better. basically, if they actually existed, I would die for both of them.

13. Your most ridiculous character.

I don’t usually play super ridiculous characters, but! I would say Keothi “Bookfinder” Vaimeil counts. She was basically me looking all of the goliath barbarian stereotypes in the eye, and going “nah. she’s a nerd.” She’s literally a massive puppy dog, just the sweetest big old thing, sitting in her house and reading all the books she can get her hands on in order to make up for her amnesia. Oh, and did I mention that she’s a zombie? ...yea. She’s wacky, but I love her.

14. The best in-character line you’ve ever had.

“I need sleep. I don’t even sleep and I need sleep.”

~Ilia, after a particularly tough fight and an emotionally draining day

15. Your most epic death.

Ok so... none of my characters in game have ever actually died during the storyline? Keothi obviously has in her backstory, and Ilia might have in hers as well, it was never explicitly stated, but during the game? Nope. Ashe got stupid close, but nope. Since Keothi is my only death period, and her death was pretty epic, I’m just gonna describe that. Her parents and siblings in her Goliath tribe had all fallen ill, so she decided to go searching for a possible cure, and ended up getting conned into helping this cult, since they said they would cure her family. Turns out, yea, they were lying, they just needed a goliath willing to sacrifice themselves with a cursed sword. They made the mistake of revealing this before Keothi was actually dead, so as she was dying, she brought the entire goddamn cultist temple down to the bottom of the sea and took the cultists with her. The sword was why she was undead, in the Shadowfell, and couldn’t remember anything.

16. Your most disappointing death. 

As mentioned, I’ve never died in campaign, but I feel like I have to mention this one that happened to our party in Curse of Strahd. We were in the death house, all 5 of us, still level 1, and our barbarian falls into a pit trap with spikes. None of us realize she’s actually dead, so we send out paladin down to get her... with the monk, the bard, and the warlock holding the rope. ....yea both of them died.

17. Something that shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

I’m stuck between two options for this one. First one was the time our water genasi paladin/rogue bloodbended our gnome cleric into a bridge to keep her from falling all the way down a ravine. The second time was when our party managed to defend a small seaside town from a pirate raid with just an NPC with Control Water, a ballista, ourselves, and some explosives. Neither should’ve worked, but both did. Having a triton in your party can really come in clutch in a seaside campaign.

18. Something that went hilariously awry.

I have one that’s hilarious and one that’s horrifying. Hilarious one: in my first ever campaign, someone from Aisling’s backstory popped up and our sorcerer went “that’s shady” (to be fair, he was) and then went to investigate BY HIMSELF. He obviously got kidnapped by the mafia, and then we went all stealth mission to break him out. Stealth was immediately abandoned after our other bard used a SCREAMING SWORD to break open the locks, then we proceeded to go out the way we came, setting everything on fire on the way out, and with our bard lying their way out the front door (with the rest of us in tow as “prisoners”) by pretending to be a fellow mafia member. It was great. Horrifying one: Ilia tries to Send to a member of the party who left in order to let him know that a fellow party member had died. Forgot that he left bc his mind was invaded by a previously dead, very evil old god, and ends up trapped there with him for a while. Ended up with all of our main spellcasters trapped in their own heads while the barbarian paced around worriedly and the rogue decided he was going to get smashed instead of worrying himself silly.

19. Your most memorable in-character moment.

There are a LOT in Ilia’s campaign, but! If I had to pick one, it would actually be a pretty recent one involving Ilia and our party’s wizard, Liara. They’re basically the embodiment of head vs heart? Anyway, Liara is currently suffering from something called magic corruption, though idk if suffering is the right word. Anyway! It basically resulted in her getting... possessed? by her own magic during the night during Ilia’s watch, and they had a really, really interesting conversation regarding guilt, death, and grief, and yea basically I love them. Honorable mention to our druid’s death (he’s back and better now, but that was my first long-time death in a game, we didn’t know he was coming back) and also the moment that Ilia realized that her childhood bff/crush had been revived in a new body and that this NPC was her best friend. That was a trip.

20. The coolest item you ever got and how you came to possess it.

I got this item in the revamp of my first ever campaign and nothing has topped it since which is Sad but hey. Anyway! I got this really cool, possibly cursed dagger after I threw a knife at an absolutely eldritch being and it got stuck in him as he transformed. It looked really badass, and allowed me to cast Inflict Wounds on occasion when I stabbed someone with it. So yea, we love that. Honorable mention to my paladin/bloodhunter’s Helm of the Aberrant Gladiator which allows you to basically do a bunch of fear based affects and psychic stuff.

Numbers 21 through 30 don’t apply to me but. yea. enjoy this summary of my dnd history I guess