#well i mean im a day late for his birthday so oops

[infernaltenor]

goofy aaa

[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 6

word count: 2023

rating: pg13 for language

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Today is the first day of production for "The Last Time", the movie Victoria and Austin will be

As soon as she stepped into the building where some of the sets are, she spotted Austin & Eliana all over each other. Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she says quietly to Mila, who's at the craft service table.

"I know. I've only been here ten minutes and they can't keep their hands off each other." Mila responds. "I heard what happened at the party. I'm sorry. It's really shitty Eliana would do that to you."

"Thanks. I'm mad at him too, but I think her more so. Like, just the fact that she was actively going after him while having a boyfriend & knowing her best friend since elementary school was crushing hard on him, just makes so mad. She really just didn't seem to care about our friendship at all, coming to think of it."

"How so? If you don't mind me asking. Like there's more than just breaking the girl code?"

"Oh, yeah. The entire time I've known her, she's always put boyfriends first. All though most of our friendship was long distance, she'd constantly blow off our video chats to be with her boyfriend, she'd make her boyfriend tag along when we'd visit each other so I was always third wheel. I don't know how many times she forgot my birthday and I'd just shrug it off. Living together, she was always so inconsiderate. Having guys over super late, fucking til the sun came up, giving absolutely no care that her "best friend" is trying to sleep in the next room. She's just so selfish. And I really let myself put up with it. Also a huge spoiled brat. Gets everything she wants."

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. Do you still live with her?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. I've been staying at my friends house, who's actually her ex that she cheated on."

"Well, Im looking for a roommate if you want to live with me. I promise I won't be having sex at all hours of the night. If I ever do, I promise I'll keep it quiet."

Both girls giggled, "Honestly, that would be great. Anything to not live with Eliana & I'm sure Ashton wants his guest room back."

"Oh, of course! I need a roommate, you need a new place. It's perfect. We can go to work everyday together too."

"That is perfect."

Sarah, the producer that Victoria had met during her audition, comes in & gets everyone's attention.

"Welcome to the first day of production, everyone! Today we'll start getting everyone's measurements & fittings for your costumes & do a table read."

As Sarah goes on to talk about the process of the day, Eliana makes eye contact with Victoria, giving her a bitchy smirk, with the vibe of "Haha I'm dating Austin & you're not."

"And of course, congratulations to our stars, Austin Butler & newcomer, Victoria Williams!" Sarah says.

Hearing her name, Victoria broke eye contact with Eliana. She thanked everyone for clapping & cheering her on.

"With that, Victoria & Mila, you can head off to the costume department for your fittings. Everyone else can head to their trailers so we know where to find you when we're ready for you."

Vic & Mila start making their way to the costume department.

"Did you see that bitchy smirk Eliana gave me?" Victoria whispers into Mila's ear.

"Yeah. What the fuck was that?"

"To me it was a "Haha Im dating Austin & you're not" smirk."

"Ugh. Probably."

As they continue to walk, someone bumps into Victoria.

"Oops, my bad." Eliana says in a sarcastic tone.

Victoria straight out asks, "What the hell are you doing here, Eliana?"

"Oh, you know. Just here to show my love & support for my new boyfriend."

"Oh really? You never did that for Ashton."

"What do you mean? I always showed my love & support for him."

"I wouldn't call flirting with men at bars all time showing your love & support. You never went to any of his shows if they weren't in California."

"You know I couldn't leave Cali & go on tour with him. I have a modeling career here that I can't just up & leave."

"Oh like you did with our friendship? And you're just going to deny that you were flirting with other guys while with Ash? You know that's cheating, right?"

"No, I didn't just up & leave our friendship."

"No? Well, it sure feels like it. But are you sure you're here to show your support for Austin or are you just here to make me mad & jealous?"

"No, I'm legit here for Austin, not to make your bitch ass mad."

"Hey! Vic! We should get to the costume department. I'm sure they're looking for us." Mila says, grabbing Victoria's arm, leading her away from Eliana.

"Thanks. I was about to fight a bitch." Vic says.

"Exactly why I pulled you away."

"Oh, hey, Victoria. Hey Mila." Austin says, walking by, being civil.

"Hey." Vic says back very bluntly as they pass him. "Oh, the way I wanted to say something like "Tell your slut of a girlfriend to check herself"" she says to Mila once they've fully walked past Austin.

"Good job holding back."

"Thanks."

After their fittings, they went to grab a bite to eat before going to the table read. Of course Victoria was seated right next to Austin.

"Victoria." Austin greets her as she sits down.

"Austin."

"Heard you and Eliana got into it earlier."

"A little bit."

"Can you try to be like, civil, with her too? She's my girlfriend now, and she'll be around."

"Austin, she started-

Anna, the director, interrupts what you were about to say. "Before we start reading, let's go around & introduce ourselves. State your name, past work, anything about yourself. Let's start with our leading lady, Victoria!"

"Oh, okay, alright. Um, hi. I'm Victoria Williams, I'm 25 years old from New Zealand. I moved here when I was 23 to further my career in acting. I'm pretty well known back home, and I wanted to really make it big, so I came here. I guests starred on a few shows on Freeform & The CW. I'm excited to finally have my own lead role in a movie. I'm forever grateful for to Anna & the producers for this opportunity." Victoria says.

Anna hugs her from the side as she sits next to Vic. "I'm so glad to have you with us, Victoria. Austin, why don't you go next, then we'll keep going around that way."

"Hey, I'm Austin Butler. You might've recently seen me in Baz Luhrman's production of Elvis, as The King himself. Im from Anaheim, been acting since I was about 12. Uh, yeah. Not really sure what else to say. Im just excited to be here." Austin says.

Everyone continues to go around, introducing themselves. Austin sneakily pulls his phone out to text Victoria.

"What we're you saying about Eliana?" he texts her.

Victoria felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulls her phone out & looks over to Austin giving him a seriously? look. "She's the one who started our little fight." she responded.

"Oh really? How so?"

"She purposely bumped into me & went "Oops, my bad" all sarcastically. I wouldn't have said a damn word to her if she didn't bump into me like that."

"Eliana told me that you just flat out asked her why she's here without her even saying or doing anything, and saying she wasn't actually here to support me, just to make you jealous."

"Okay, yes, I did flat out ask her that, but like I said, I wouldn't have said anything to her if she hadn't made any kind of interaction with me. And yeah, I was saying that because she's not. She was never there for Ashton unless it was convenient for her. She's selfish & only cares about herself. This is purely for her enjoyment. And I won't put it past me if she cheats on you like she cheated on Ash who know how many times, even if it was just flirting."

"Whatever you say, Vic. Eliana seems to really like me & has been supportive."

"Supportive of your dick because that's all she wants."

"I doubt that."

"You'll find out eventually, trust me. Oh, and she called me a bitch. I didn't use any kind of name calling, just an FYI."

"I mean, she's not wrong though."

"You're lucky we're in front of people right now."

"Or what?"

They both get pulled out of their thoughts when Anna starts the reading of the script.

A couple hours flew by & it was a wrap for the day.

"Hey Vic, wanna go grab dinner?" Mila asks.

"Yeah, that'd be great!"

"Want to meet at Toki's Sushi?"

"Yes, I love that place."

"Sweet. Was Austin texting you during the intros?"

"Yeah." Victoria rolled her eyes.

"About what?"

"Before Anna started doing her little spiel, he mentioned the little fight Eliana & I had earlier, and was asking if I could get and be cilvil with her too. We got interrupted when I was about to tell him what happened. So, he texted me about it."

"What'd he say?"

"Well, I told him she started it. He said she said that I just asked her why she's here with no prompt, and I told him I wouldn't have said a word to her if she didn't say anything to me. I could care less about her. I also told him that she's not here to support him because he mentioned that I said that as well. Like yeah, she's fucking not. She just wants to fuck with me, she's only with you for your dick, & she's probably going to cheat on you too. He's just in denial & too caught in her trap."

"He'll find out her ways soon enough."

"Oh, definitely. It's only a matter of days until she's off with an excuse as to why she can't spend time with him so she can go flirt & have more hookups."

"You think she'll make up excuses to be out of state now that she has a boyfriend who lives in California?"

"Probably. Which honestly is fine with me if she does. The less I have to see of her the better."

Victoria & Mila walk out to their cars, and meet each other at the restaurant.

"There's no fucking way." Victoria says to Mila.

"What?"

"Austin & Eliana are here. I'm wondering if he overheard us talking and decided to come here. God, even now they're all over each other."

"For real. Get a damn room. Wanna go somewhere else?"

"Nah, it's fine. I'll just ignore them."

They walk past the horny couple on their way to their table, pretending that they don't even exist.

"I'll be so mad if I can't escape them." Vic says.

"At least if you're at home, youll be able too."

"I just don't want them following me around just to piss me off, ya know?"

"I get that."

Eliana walks by their table going to the bathroom, giving that bitchy smirk again.

"Can I please fight her?" Vic asks Mila.

"No, no, no. I know you may want too, but like you said, we're just gonna ignore them."

"You're right."

Eliana stops at the table on her way back, "What? Not gonna say hello?"

"Why would I?" Victoria asks.

"Well, Austin is your co-star after all."

"Yeah? So? Doesn't mean I have to acknowledge him or you every time I see you."

"Well, maybe you should incase there's paparazzi. "Austin Butler's new co-star completely ignores him while passing him in public. Is there drama on set?" I can see the headlines now."

"Whatever, dude. There's none right now. No one even really knows who I am. The movie hasn't even been announced to the public yet. I think Im okay this one time."

"Suit yourself." and with that, Eliana walks off.

"I truly don't know how Im going to get through this movie."

"I'll do my best to keep you sane." Mila says.

"Oh, what would I do without you?"

—————————————————————

Chapter 7

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

��Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[thebigqueer]

BILCO FANFIC - “The VSCO Demon”

Summary: Will is possessed with a VSCO demon that will turn him into the one and only Billiam Thabdrew Sksksolace, a VSCO girl.

Word Count: 3513

Note: This is my first writing on Tumblr so everyone sing happy birthday! also its terrible! also I GREATLY APPRECIATE FEEDBACK (but please give it to me gently cuz im a Sensitive Bitch TM) (if you even sound a little mean ill start crying)

ALSO: Credits to my online bff for Nico’s pet hyena, Bambi. (HI I LOVE YOU)

Nico knew something was wrong with Will.

He could tell that there was something always bothering him, hidden deep beneath that sunshiny facade he always seemed to use in front of other people. He was hiding something, and it seemed to be eating at him like a parasite. 

Nico’s suspicions began when he first noticed Will’s slight speech slipup. Will and Kayla were discussing the new demigods that were to move in soon, and Kayla let loose the fact that she was a little iffy about one of them. Will’s eyes had widened, showing off the blue of his eyes, and he said, “Anna oop-”

He clamped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. He’d already said it. Nico didn’t know what it meant, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. (Was it some kind of prophetic power? Did Will just spew some words from a prophecy in a totally different language? Maybe Nico would ask Rachel later.) When Nico confronted him afterwards, Will just turned his head away and said he was going to head to sleep.

It wasn’t only his foreign phrases - it was also the stuff he bought. On their dates to New York City, Will would slink him and Nico away to a store and buy something. Sometimes it would be an oversized T-shirt, other times it would be scrunchies, and one time he even bought a gigantic water bottle. (“It’s called a Hydroflask,” Will told him.)

Will was scary in those moments. His eyes would get big as he eyed all his new items, and his hands would tap furiously on the wooden counters while he waited. Nico wasn’t sure what this meant, but it seemed that Will was going through something. Something terrible. 

And the moment they got back, Will would start immediately sobbing. Nico would literally have to hold him from falling face down on the ground because of how hard he would be weeping. He’d cry, “It’s not happening, it’s not happening! I can’t become VSCO!” 

All Nico was able to do was watch his golden boyfriend sob in his arms, unable to help, unable to understand.

It wasn’t until a late day in November when Nico found out what his boyfriend was hiding from him. Will had been antsy all breakfast, avoiding Nico’s eyes like it was the coronavirus; Nico knew that he wasn’t the only one who noticed - Kayla and Austin had given him furtive, sympathetic glances. Nico’s heart pounded in his chest, anxiety spiking his pulse and chilling him down to the bone. 

Nico couldn’t help but to wonder, Is he going to break up with me? 

Safe to say, his breakfast was ruined, and he pulled just a little away from Will. He didn’t miss the awkward looks he got from Kayla and Austin, nor did he miss Will’s slight flinch at the loss of contact between the boys.

After a silent breakfast, when everyone had left to start their daily activities, Nico stood to go. If Will didn’t want to talk to him, then fine. He’d manage that. 

But a warm hand clamped on his wrist, begging him to stay. Nico turned his face to Will’s, absorbing his golden features and the heavy vulnerability in those blue eyes. It hit Nico that whatever Will wanted from him, it wasn’t going to be good.

Nico sat back down carefully. Will’s pink lips were turned at the corners and, having a closer look at his face, Nico realized his eyes were puffy and red like he’d been crying.

Upon seeing his boyfriend’s expression, Nico reached out and touched Will’s tan face gingerly, brushing his own pale fingers through his golden locks. “Will,” he whispered, “what’s wrong? You’ve been so… so closed off from me. Is everything okay? And don’t lie this time, please. I’m serious.” 

Will opened and closed his mouth, then unlatched his eyes from Nico’s and closed them. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if gearing up for a long and tiring mission. Nico squeezed Will’s right hand - His baby hands, Nico thought ridiculously, all small and cute - and laced them together, squeezing lightly. A “Hey, I’m here for you” squeeze. 

Will turned his focus back on Nico, a small smile lacing the corners of his mouth, but not quite eradicating his internalized pain.

“Nico,” he began, “I… I have an issue.” Will’s freckled cheeks bloomed with bright red blotches and he sheepishly looked away again. 

Anticipation and anxiety gripped Nico like a vice and his breath hitched. “What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to tamper down his growing unease. He didn’t want to make Will feel more nervous than he already did.

Will swallowed, as if he was trying to keep down the words from ever appearing. Nico brushed his pale thumb over Will’s, hoping it would calm him a bit. A beat passed, and Will said, “I have this… demon inside me. It’s a terrible demon. I was possessed as a kid.”

“What?” asked Nico. “A demon? What do you mean?”

Will sighed shakily, his eyes focused on the floor. “It’s called a VSCO demon.” 

“Will…” Nico started, but he wasn’t sure what he would say. I’m sorry? That didn’t seem right, not at this moment. It seemed like Will wasn’t quite looking for pity. Instead, Nico opted to inquire more about this demon: “What exactly does the demon do? How much is it going to impact your life?” 

“Well… actually, it’s going to impact my life a lot. Essentially, it’ sgoing to make me a VSCO girl. You know what that is, right? I explained it to you.”

Nico nodded.

Will continued. “First, it’ll start off with more subtle things, like specific hand spasms.” Will demonstrated what he meant by bringing his right hand to his face and then turning to the side, then frowned. “There’s also some expressions that I might repeat a lot. Like… ‘anna oop-’, or ‘oooh, tea, sis!’ or ‘sksksksk.’” 

Nico watched Will’s expression as he said each phrase and his heart felt like it was being squished. Will looked like he was trying very hard not to let it take over him, let those stupid terms make him into a new person, but he was so exhausted. Nico touched his boyfriend’s face again. “I’m… sorry, Will. That’s terrible.”

Will nodded, but he didn’t seem to hear Nico. “When it gets worse, you’ll start noticing. I’ll be wearing oversized T-shirts, I think… scrunchies on my wrist, maybe.” He sighed again, but this time a small sob escaped from his lips too. When he looked up, Nico saw he had fresh tears glassing over his eyes. “I’m going to be carrying that stupid Hydro Flask with me forever, Nico. Forever.” 

That seemed to do it. In a matter of seconds, the floodgates of Will’s emotions had opened up and he was spilling everywhere. Nico pulled him close, despite not being much of a hugger, and drew small circles on his back. He felt Will’s tears soak through his T-shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he felt so heartbroken by Will’s emotions, he wanted to start crying himself.

But he had to keep it strong, for Will. Nico bit his lip to keep himself from letting out a few tears himself. 

After several moments, Will seemed to calm down enough to pull away from Nico, even though tears still ribboned down his cheeks like liquified crystals. He pulled a tissue from his sweatshirt pocket and blew his nose, honking like he was the goosiest of all geese.

“Anyway,” Will continued, sighing heavily. “I have to tell you something else.” He threw the snot-saturated tissue over his shoulder, where some poor sucker would have to pick it up themself and throw it out. Taking a deep breath (Nico swore he was just trying to steal all the oxygen out of the air now, probably trying to photosynthesize or something), Will pulled Nico’s hands to his chest. “When the demon takes over me, Nico, my alter ego will come out. I will not be able to control it. His name… is Billiam Thabdrew Sksksolace.”

Will paused dramatically, letting that name sink in.

“Oh, Will,” Nico said quietly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend. “Is there a cure to this? Can you fix it?”

Will rested his head in the space between Nico’s neck and shoulder. “No,” he answered, his voice muffled. “There isn’t. I just have to live with being a VSCO girl from now on.” Pulling away so that he was mere inches from Nico’s face, he asked: “Would you still love me, Nico? Even after I become… become Billiam?”

“Of course,” Nico exclaimed, not a moment of hesitation. “Of course! You are more than your stupid demon. You can be as much of a VSCO girl as you become, and I will always love you.”

Will’s face crumpled again and he pulled Nico tighter, so close Nico could almost swear his ribs were going to break. 

“Thank you, Nico. Thank you.” 

~~~

It was only a few weeks until the real changes started showing up. 

When Nico went into the Apollo cabin in the mornings, sometimes he’d see Will in an oversized T-shirt, waving around a metal straw with his baby hands, exclaiming, “OOOH THAT’S TEA!” whenever one of his siblings said something, or referring to himself as Bill Sksksolace when someone called him Will. 

Those spells wouldn’t last long, but it was still discerning. 

As the days progressed, it got worse. The spells wouldn’t last in just the morning - they’d appear in the afternoon, in the night time, and at nine in the afternoon. Nico would walk in on a conversation Will was having with another camper, and just when things seemed like they were going smoothly, Will would mutter: “SKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKS.” The camper would look at Will strangely, laugh a little, then leave. 

Nico would have to sit with Will and tell him that it was alright, that it’s just part of the course. He’ll be alright.

Despite the fact that things were getting worse, it didn’t bother Nico too much. He already knew it would happen sooner or later, so there was no point anticipating and being scared over it.

And yet, nothing would prepare him for the gut punch of when it really did happen. 

It was a morning like any other. The sun shone above the camp in brilliant golden rays, and the wind was windy (as wind is) and just perfect for a November day. Nico was hopeful today; maybe they’d go out to New York City, like old times. Try to get Will’s mind off his doomed fate.

Nico had an inkling something was wrong the moment he knocked on the cabin door. Maybe it was the shift in the wind, maybe it was anxiety, or maybe it was the fact that he heard people shouting, “PUT THAT METAL STRAW DOWN, WILL!” that made him nervous. Nevertheless, he waited outside. 

Kayla was the one to open the door. She looked exhausted, like she’d been running after someone all morning. When she realized it was Nico, her expression told Nico everything he needed to know. 

Nico stepped in tentatively, nervous about what he would find. 

And boy did he have every right to be nervous. Nothing could prepare him for what he was about to find.

Will had transformed. Like, completely transformed.

Gone were his golden curls. In place of them was a messy bun at the top of his head, wrapped with a purple scrunchie. If one scrunchie wasn’t enough, he had literal sleeves of them over his arms, all the way up to his elbow, of all kinds of nauseating and headache-inducing colors. On top of that, a knee-length T-shirt covered him from the shoulders to his thighs, and in his small baby hands was a Hydro Flask with a metal straw sticking out of it, which was currently sticking between his teeth.

Upon seeing Nico, his eyes widened and he offered him a bright smile. “Sksksksk!” Will exclaimed. “Oh my gods, it’s literally Nico!” He rushed towards his boyfriend with his arms wide, and just when Nico thought he was about to get a crushing bear hug, Will surprised him last minute by shoving twenty scrunchies into his hands as well as a metal straw. 

Nico looked at the treasure in his hands - Where the everloving fuck did he get so many? thought Nico - then back at Will, and again back at his treasure. Tears pricked at his eyes and his chest constricted, making it harder to breathe. “Will-” he began.

Will looked genuinely confused. “Who’s Will? I’m Billiam Sksksolace. And that’s the tea here today.”

“Right. Billiam.” Even saying the new name hurt him in ways Nico didn’t even think were imaginable. He placed a hand on Will’s - No, Bill’s, Nico reminded himself - cheek, tracing his lover’s freckles. “How are you feeling?”

“Anna oop-” Billiam said. “I feel fine, sksksk. Why?” He raised his eyebrows and leaned in, tilting his head for a second. “Is there tea?” 

Nico sobbed, his heart wrenching. Where was Will? “No, not at all.” He kissed Bill’s face. “Not at all.”

20 YEARS LATER…

Nico had successfully gone crazy.

He and Billiam had three kids. Each one blond. Each one young.

Each one just as VSCO as their dad. 

It was an endless cycle of “SKSKSKS” and “ANNA OOP-” and they had about fifty thousand metal straws strewn around their house. Their kids didn’t even wear pants anymore, just oversized T-shirts. They didn’t even have the demon - it was a Monkey See, Monkey Do situation. 

And Nico was done. He’d even developed a twitch in his eye. From the moment he got up in the morning to the moment he fell asleep at night, his mind swirled with unwanted expressions and metal straws in his eyes and Hydro Flasks on the table and oversized T-shirts strewn across the bed and he was positively done.

There was only one thing left to do. 

Nico grabbed the knife from the kitchen drawer. Then he turned to the onions on the cutting board and started chopping with rage. (It was his turn to make dinner tonight, and he hated every moment of it.)

But he had something to look forward to, and he had everything ready. 

Bill was home from work now, sitting in the living room and scrolling through Instagram. Nico watched him, thinking about that fatal day several years ago at Camp Half-Blood when everything had gone wrong for him. 

Well, Nico would fix that today.

“Bill,” Nico called, gritting his teeth. Calling his beloved William “Bill” still stung him, despite it having been years later. “It’s time for dinner. Call the kids.”

Bill stood from the couch and fixed his messy bun, then called, “Billiam, Jr.! Litpollo! Percy, Jr.! Time for dinner! Sksksk.” 

Nico made his way down the hall and opened the garage door, crying out to his pet hyena: “BAMBI! Come on, boy. Time for your yummy chinken dinner.”

Bambi growled and bounded into the building, turning towards the kids that had now come into the dining room. Bill eyed the oversized cat with scrutiny. “Bae, I think we need to tame that thing.”

Nico turned his head to look at his hyena. He shrugged. “Seems fine to me.”

“He’s gnawing on our child’s head.”

Nico eyed his kitty, who had its jaws around their child Litpollo’s head. “No he isn't,” Nico decided. “It’s just licking Litpollo's head. Litpollo just has a really tiny head.” 

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but Nico clapped his hands and exclaimed: “Time for dinner!” He offered Bill a dazzling smile. “And I have a surprise for you.”

Bill’s eyes widened and a smile of his own flashed across his face. “Sksksk. I’m excited. Yass queen.”

Nico’s eye twitched. “Yes, time for dinner.”

The family of five (including Bambi the Hyena, it was six) sat at the dinner table. (Yes, Bambi sat at a dinner table. Nico considered that quite domestic of Bambi). 

“Now, before we start, I have a little something for Bill.” Nico stood again and pulled out something from his pocket. Bill leaned in to look at it, and realization dawned on him. He hissed and jumped up from his chair. 

“Skskskskskkssksksksk!” he exclaimed. “That’s a cross. Why do you have that?” Just being in the presence of it seemed to make him antsy.

Nico offered him a dangerous smile. “Well, you see, Billiam, I became a priest online. I have a certificate and everything.” He tilted his head innocently and, with that smile still plastered onto his face, said, “I am here to eradicate the Demon of VSCO.” 

“No,” Bill said shakily, but his voice had changed. It was rougher, scratchier, a voice he wouldn’t have on any other normal day. “No, you can’t. You’ve been going behind my back this entire time? How dare you.” 

“I’m here to save you, Bill. Or should I say… William.”

“NO!” Bill screeched, picking up Litpollo and shielding his face with the child. “I REFUSE! SKSKSK!”

Nico only smiled wider, his dark eyes shining with fearsome mirth. Suddenly, the lights flickered on and off and a harsh wind blew across the room. Outside, clouds started gathering like they were ready for a shitshow to happen. Nico rose from the floor, the wind carrying his weight like he was lighter than paper. He held out the cross in front of him, showing it to Bill’s VSCO demon. Bill hissed, and his eyes starting glowing bright yellow, clearly aggravated by the cross. He dropped the child, who squeaked and ran off to eat his dry chinken dinner.

Nico’s own eyes had started glowing, but his were a bright red flash like he was about to shoot lasers. “BY THE POWER VESTED IN ME,” Nico exclaimed, his voice projecting outward and all around the house, “I PRONOUNCE THEE, VSCO DEMON, GONE.”

Nico slammed the cross against Bill’s chest, making steam circle and sizzle around Bill’s chest. The blond cried out in pain, but Nico ignored him. 

“BEGONE, THOT!” Nico thundered.

A big bang resonated between them, and Nico and Bill were both thrown across the room. Their children screamed, but all Nico could think about was Bill and whether or not he was back. Despite being disoriented, he sat upright and looked across the room. Billiam was thrown to the kitchen, and his messy bun had come undone. The scrunchies on his wrists were hissing and smoking, but otherwise he looked fine. 

Nico stood up slowly, keeping his hand on the wall for balance. “Will?” he said quietly. It was strange using that name after so many years, but it felt good. It felt comfortable.

Bill didn’t answer. Nico’s heart started racing.

He rushed to Bill’s side, checking his pulse and touching his face, making sure was alive. When he decided that he was alright, Nico let out a breath of relief. He shook Bill gently. “Will? Will, please, wake up. Tell me you’re okay.”

For a moment, all was silent. Nico’s children had even stopped screaming, but Nico wasn’t sure where they were or what they were doing. Right now, it was only about Billiam. 

Suddenly, Bill started coughing. He sat up a little straighter and coughed into his arm, and Nico patted is back in means of helping his partner. Bill stopped after a few moments, but his focus was only on the kitchen tiles.

Nico’s heart pounded in anticipation. Was Billiam gone? Was Will back? Goosebumps prickled his skin. 

“Will?” Nico asked. “Are you okay?”

Bill started laughing. Nico wanted to take this as a good sign, but the laughter seemed eerie. He took Bill’s baby hand in his.

Bill turned to face him, a wide grin on his face. “YOU FOOL!” he exclaimed. “YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID?”

Nico gasped and threw himself away from Bill, shaking his head. “No,” he whispered. “No. It should have worked! I went onto Wikipedia for the instructions!”

Bill only laughed harder. “YOU DIPSHIT! YOU MULTIPLIED ME!” His eyes danced with his laughter.

“Multiplied?” Nico exclaimed. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” He frowned. “Also, no swearing in front of the kids. Watch your fucking language, asshole.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” Bill exclaimed. “MY CHILDREN,” he called, turning his face away from Nico’s. “COME!”

From the dining room, the children’s small feet pitter-pattered across the floor. Rage filled Nico’s chest, and he tackled Bill to the ground. “VSCO DEMON!” he cried. “What did you do to them? If you hurt them-”

“I did no such thing,” Bill said. “I would never hurt them.”

“Then what did you do?”

In creepy unison, all his kids exclaimed: “SKSKSK! I’VE GIVEN THEM ALL A PIECE OF ME! NOW I EXIST IN ALL OF YOUR FAMILY AND LOVED ONES!”

“NOOOOO!” Nico cried. “WHY?”

“Children,” Bill said, “what do we say to Nico?”

“SAVE THE TURTLES!” And they all took off their oversized T-shirts and threw them in his face.

The end. Nico sobbed forever.

[awsugawara]

nekoma hcs with a k-pop stan s/o

EDIT: I’m adding the page break thingy because it is quite long of a post!

t. kuroo

> depending whether your a soft or a hard stan, kuroo is probably someone who would stan with you

> the simp couple™

> would take notes from the types of outfit styles the idols wear and that you simp over

> one time he dressed with a choker and girls WOULD NOT leave him alone and you left him to be bombarded by his “fangirls”

> kuroo-choker-ver.exe has stopped working.

> kuroo thinks its cute when you cry when watching a new m/v release

> when ATEEZ’s m/v inception was released, you were bAWLING

> “but BABE! THE DANCING AND- AND- SEONGHWA’S ABS AHHHHHH”

> kuroo doesn’t get v jealous OFTEN, but he does when all you can talk about is the idols

> “hush, kitten, i think you’re going on too much about these idols of yours...here, let me give you something else to think about~”

> NOSEBLEED- IM SORRY 

---

k. kozume

> kenma likes listening to the music but isn’t one for visuals just cuz he’s playing games 

> he thinks its cute you gush over these korean boys

> unlike kuroo, he doesn’t get jelly much since he does invest most of his time on his games

> helps you dye your hair another color, if you wanted it changed

> just because he doesn’t make subtle convo about the k-pop boys, doesn’t mean he doesn’t pay attention to who your biases are

> i like to believe that he secretly watches stage performances and the comedy skits like RUN BTS or GOING SEVENTEEN while he eats his food while taking a break from playing games

> it surprised you because he sent you memes on ig about a recently released ATEEZ interview

> boy did you simp over your bf for DAYS

> “ aw! you do care! “ -you

> “ who said i didn’t-” -kenma

---

m. yaku

> he pretends he doesn’t care, but is actually a k-pop stan himself

> i see him being a stan for boy groups over boys groups (idk could just be me)

> he does stan a good amount of girl groups like ITZY and TWICE and maybe even RED VELVET

> he’s a soft stan. perIODT.

> you two secretly trade pcs for your biases and such uwu

> #brokebitchgang

> he NEVER wants his team to know he is a k-pop stan 

> lev almost found out when he tried to peek over his shoulder, while he was watching GOT7′s new release for NOT BY THE MOON 

> rip lev lmao

> he surprised you with hi-touch tickets for one of your ult groups for your birthday and you DIED on the spot

> yaku knows how to take care of his girl because he’s a SIMP for YOU

> protecc this mans because he is an innocent stan maybe

---

t. yamamoto

> ive been waiting for this one mwhuehuehue

> GORL GROUP STAN. A HARD STAN. THAT IS ALL.

> no but seriously he loves his girl groups sm

> him, tanaka, and noya TRADE PCS

> you and him have girl grp and boy grp battles

> “oh YEAH! my SVT hip hop unit can outdo your whole TWICE group."

> taketora wants to style his hair like the kpop boys, but he’s insecure about not pulling it off

> you encourage him, but if he’s really unsure about it, you tell him that he looks perf to you already and doesn’t need some k-pop hairstyle to impress you

> he may simp over his gorl groups, but he’s an even bigger one for you :)

> and I.M. changkyun oop-

> he LOVES MONSTA X, STRAY KIDS, and NCT 127 with a PASSION

> he owns practically all pcs for I.M., felix, and mark lee

> you love your simp of a bf pftttt

---

l. haiba

> another gorl group stan

> he doesn’t get too insecure about you liking boy groups, but at times he will cling with his 194cm lookin ass

> anyway, lev is that one stan that is like 3 days late 

> “THEY RELEASED THIS 3 DAYS AGO?????”

> you gotta keep him in up to date to be able to talk about stuff...just sayin oop

> he appreciates the korean boy style v much that he goes and buys clothes to dress like them

> he gets his sister to hook you up too bcuz he’s a SIMP

> korean fashion + you and your tol bf = hawt couple goals

> a good handful of members are jealous that his s/o pulls off the korean fits so well

> his sister is a simp for you dressed in that fashion font too eheehee

> i like to think lev has bad luck pulling the pcs he wants, like he’ll pull your bia(es) pcs but never his unless it is like BLACKPINK

> you happily trade with him with the ones you traded with your good ol’ friend tendou uwu

---

s. inuoka

> inuoka is like the clueless one, like it’s not a bad thing, but it just ain’t his flavor

> i can see him more of a gaming/otaku kinda guy

> he’s not really bothered with your k-pop obsessions

> but like i said, he can be CLUELESS

> one day you were crying after watching TXT’s 4K vid for ‘Can’t You See Me?’

> he saw you crying while you were waiting for him for practice to end, and he FREAKED

> you had to explain to him that you were so caught up in how good the performance was that it made you tear up

> he still freaks out when you cry or get so excited

> for your birthday, he bought you BTS albums and JUST BTS albums

> you weren’t complaining, but as a multi-stan, you would’ve liked some other groups

> nonetheless, the puppy boy will forever and always protecc you even if he doesn’t really get it 

---

> i would have done kai, teshiro, fukunaga, and shibayama, but i think i’ll include them in a side character post with some others,,,sorry! <

[fleshblueberry]

Babe wake up im going to rant about my ocs lore because im bored

Tw/cw depression, suicide, kidnapping, addiction, unreality

I write angsty stuff for my ocs oops-

When i first started making my characters they were very different in alot of ways and they were very different from what they are now. But i some how managed to glue all the chaos of my ocs together into a semi-coherent story. I went through an insane amount of world building with myself and i honestly dont think ive ever writen or typed any of it out before! its all just up in my head (and you know my memory is trash so ive probably forgotten of alot of things i made before lol). Anyways- i have two main story lines for my characters. Ethan's story, and Vevlet's story. Although i must admit Ethan's story is less complex than velvets simply beacsue it acts as a story of prequeal to Velvets story line. (Alternate realities that happen to have effect on each other basically- we love space time junk)

Ethan's world is very similar to ours, the most similar out of any of my fantasy worlds lol. Ethan's story revolves around self-discovery. I mean for it to be a wholesome/lighthearted thing that quickly leads up to dark undertones (spoilers lol). Ethan's story begins with Eef pre-transition (AFAB to NB). We get to see Ethan learn about themself and have fun exploring emotions and what it means to be alive. Ethan comes from a run-down family (mom khs, dad mia). So he lives with his adoptive parents (who i have yet to design and think about- theyre lesbians 100% though). A major moment for Eef is meeting his partner Seth. As you already know Ethan and Seth are cute ass boyfriends and stuff but guess what! im jammed their story full of angst and edgy shit bc i "wrote" most of this when i was hella depressed! Anyways Seth's family is like moderally welathy, wealthier than most i would say. Seth catches feelings for the emo chick ofc (forgot to metion Eef was definately a hot goth girl before he transitions).... uh yea anyways seth ends up flirting and crushing on eef and eef is like yea sure im bored and sad why not. and they end up dating after a while. Theres an important moment in their relationship when Ethan take Seth to this dead tree. THis dead tree is very important also bc it is where his mother hanged herself, and Ethan doesnt quite remember that bc he was very young when it happened, but he knows it as a place of comfort and he goes there alot when he feels sad or alone. this tree could be taken as symbolizim but heheh ill never tell. anyways Ethan is like yo my fevorite tree and Seth is like wtf okay bro ily and all but why a dead tree with an unstable tire swing?? ANd ethans like idk but i like it here reminds me of my childhood (op my guy) and they spend the night there. Also when ethan comes out to seth as nonbinary seth is just like ok,,, because hes bisexual lol. anyways time skip and Seth has some addiction problems once he graduates, long story short- Ethan doesnt like it bc his dad was a druggie so he trys to help Seth and Seth raises his voice and ethan is tiny compared to his bf so hes naturally like terrified of being hit and he suddenly feels his world of happy and peace he build back up bieng destroyed once again so he heads to his mothers dead tree and decides life isnt worth it anymore, and he hangs himself in the exact spot his mother did.... once seth comes off one of his highs or whatever hes like- oh fuck i yelled and acted agro to my traumatized partner. and he immedatly goes to the tree bc its Ethans favortie spot but its to late. regret is the only emootion anymore... its over for them.

now youre probably wondering how the absolute hell does that tie into velvets lore?? well do i have a tale for you. Velvets sotry begins on her 21st birthday, she is out for drinks with her douchebag bf and her bestfriend. several drinks later she yells over blaring club music shes going to the restroom, and as shes walking back she sees her bf and her bestie making out and she doesnt even say anyhting and walks out alone. She is making her way back to her apartment very tipsy. She then hears a vechile driving beside her, she cant make out anyhting theyre saying and the people in the car get out and before she even relises whats going on shes thrown into the vechile and is being beaten and yelled at. She passes out as theyre driivng to somewhere. When she next awakes she is in a barn-looking place. Concreate walls painted red and straw all over the floor. she cant stand, her legs stung and so did her entire body. for several days- she doesnt know how long she stayed in this place unable to move or do anything. Weak and starving, she gathered up her last bit of strength and hung herself on a low board (havent really worked out the details on that scence bc i keep changing my mind but she does hang herself). Cut to a space of nothingness- legit nothing- exactly its impossible to imagine nothing. In the nothing sits velvet all skin and bone, and then an entity, a hooded figure with long hair, sits next to her. No words are spoke, but the entity looks at velvet longingly. Then it tears out its eye- just full on plunges its hand into its socket and rips it out. bloody mess honestly. the entity hands its eye to velvet, and she takes it. there is no thoughts here, no sound, only actions. Cut once more to a coriners room place? ya know the place with dead bodies and tables and shit- anyways a bright light emerges from dead!vevlets chest and surrounds her entire body. *cue stunned doctor mans* Velvet arises from her death with her scars healed over and... wings. Yup shes an angel now. I mean her world already had monsters and things of suppernatural belonging but- angels are rare. She makes 1 of 2 angels in their relam as of current. Angels are "made" from regrets. Regret overflowing from two sources- one long dead and the other recent. This is where ethan comes in. Ethan's regret from how he died was powerful and sad, powerful enough for his spirt- an entity- to reach Velvets. Velvet too, had much regret in her death. So young and so many things that could have been avoided. In the days following up to her death in the barn/cellar she only felt regret. Regret for all she did and all she didnt do. So much pain summoned the entity. Their powerful forces of regret pulled them together and allowed Velvet to return- but at a price for the both of them. the entity lost its eye- symbolizing a loss of humanity and conscientiousness. While Velvet lost herself, she no longer can view her world in the same way. She has severe ptsd- like episodes and halucinations. She cant go back, she has to live through he own grief. Velvets appearnace also changes quite a bit. Her hair got longer, she has two sleek gray wings on her back, and- one of her eyes are purple now. why does it hrut her to see that eye? why is it all so familiar yet far away. Her human brain can hardly understand all the changes. But she was gifted this- she knows she must try. And luckily for her society sees angels as higher beings. They are given the umost respect but they are also greatly feared because of how misterious their origins are. The only other known angel meets with velvet quite alot through her story, he will act as a sort of guide/plot device to make things a bit easier for myself (havent worked out his lore tho or even a design for him hjbfkjsdb). Anyways im tired and its 1:35 am so thats all the lore you get for now, plus its the stuff ive thought about the most so- i dont really want to think any furtherb ahead yet lol. to many little things to work out...... i love creating but oml typing hurts after an hour or so-

Jam out!

... I don't even know what to say to this

[cracknoir]

not really headcanons more just pretentious shit i wanted to type out - sometimes it’s good to listen to yourself talk ok 

i quite like writing with npc’s because it gives me a chance to like show what jimmy’s like to people he perceives as below him. i always feel like people i interact with get a sort of skewed view of the sort of guy jimmy actually is cos he has time for them, but i also never write with npcs because if i do i end up writing absolute fucking essays 

i used to rp deadpool and i think that’s why i just say all the crack stuff i write is canon 

this might sound like a dumb thing to say but i have to do things to write. i need to be out exploring and talking to people and it usually inspires me a lot without me noticing. like im not saying i NEED to go on a walk in the woods to start writing but i always find once i’ve done that kind of stuff when i get back i usually have Ideas™. the rule goes that you only ever want to write when you can’t write, for me at least. most of this shit is just daydreams i have at work. that said time’s also the enemy. last night i went out for a walk and by the time i was home i was just too fucked

music plays a big part in what i write but sometimes this fucks me up, sometimes i spend ages looking for the “right song” to write something when really i write just as well when i have like, lofi beats to study to on 

ive been thinking about writing more short stories, or vibes as i’ve been calling them. love writing those sort of out of context drabbles that i’ve been doing lately, maybe i could do them about more than just these characters  🤔 🤔 🤔 maybe i’ll write something about my cowboy mans  🤔 🤔 🤔

if i do some short vibes about my cowboy oc with no icons would people like be down for that 

scratch that i’m gonna do it and you can’t stop me 

i did it and it’s in the queue oops 

also this has been in my drafts so long that i’ve just started doing the vibes thing. i hope nobody’s taking it personally but work’s really kicked into gear the past couple days 

actual headcanons tho

i recently found out that the mercenary business in america has a large overlap with nazis however i always thought that alex specifically worked with nazis, this said i’d probably never write anything related to that on this blog. i do have a sidestory in my head where jimmy goes down to florida and ends up killing a bunch of nazis but not like, bc of the morals or anything 

also this doesn’t bug me at all and i’d never correct anyone bc lbr assassin is a cooler word but assassin relates to political killings usually, if your character kills for money they’re a mercenary BUT ALSO i think mercenary usually has connotations of like military training??? i should reiterate this isn’t an actual gripe i have, but none of my characters are assassins

jimmy won’t go outside to smoke. dont even bother asking him to unless you want trouble. 

jimmy’s faked his death ONCE canonically but also maybe as a shitposty joke ye he’s done it like five times. i mean, the best way to celebrate someones birthday is to gaslight them into thinking ur dead 

been thinkin bout growin a mullet but same with growing a Big Beard there’s this gross inbetween bit that i’m like nah 

jimmy and jack and brad and rasputin are all wildlife mans. the rest are city slickers that wouldn’t last two rotations of the sun without at least 4 bars of signal on their Damn Fone 

jack steals lighters and the worst part is you barely even notice him doing it. if he’s been on a night out he’ll wake up with like, 18 different lighters 

it’s unclear whether the ufos frankie sees are real, just plains, or if he’s just an attention seeking prick. i don’t think he sees actual aliens but he has a log of ufo encounters he’s had 

on the same note, molly loved urban exploring 

death loves ice cream, especially bubblegum flavor 

yes. satan did lose that fiddling contest. everyone should stop talking about it. 

Claude’s killed roughly about 60 people 

Molly, Jack, little jake and jimmy will drive around for no reason just doing numerous drugs. sometimes it’s coke but they mostly just smoke weed and once they drove around sniffing mdma 

jimmy hates speed but still does it. jack hates ketamine but still does it if offered. 

u can tell what jack’s up to by what he offers u when u first walk into his house. if he offers you a coffee, you’ll probably be offered a smoke next, if he offers u a drink, you’ll probably be offered a line next. 

also jack bought a fancy coffee maker and makes like caramel coffees nd shit 

i really need to cut this shit off this post’s getting too long 

consider this shit cut off 

shit 

cut

off

GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY 

[winchester-books]

Happy Birthday

Based On: Supernatural

Characters: SisterWinchester, John, Sam, Dean

Warnings: Angst, Family-Abuse, Language, Horrible Parenting

Word Count: 1700

Summary: It’s Deans birthday and Y/N wants to get him something special. However, gets caught stealing and her father is furious.

A/N: please read warnings!! also this was originally planned to be posted on dean winchester’s birthday, but i never got a chance to finish it until now... oops. happy late super late birthday to a man who deserves happiness (even though happiness has nothing to do with this fic)

also i know it’s been so long since i’ve posted, im sorry for my hiatus, i’m hoping i’ll be able to write more these upcoming weeks! 💞

The police officer led you into the station and ordered you to sit in the hard metal chair next to his desk. The man sat down across from you, informing you that he was going to call your father as he picked up the phone.

You nodded absentmindedly, not really listening to what the cop was saying- you already knew what was going to happen.

You swallowed dryly, knowing that you had screwed up. You gripped the chair tightly, your nails digging into the cushion, as you strained to hear the conversation.

Maybe, just maybe Dean would be the one to pick up.

“Hello, is this Mr. Winchester?” The officer said as someone picked up the phone.

“Yes, can I help you?” John responded impatiently.

Your heart dropped immediately recognizing your father’s impatient and irritated tone.

“Yes,” The officer glanced over at you as he explained, “I’m calling about an issue concerning your daughter, Y/N, she’s gotten herself in some trouble. We’ve decided to let her off with a warning, but we still need you to come down to the station,”

Your grip on the chair tightened as you waited to hear your father’s response.

Nothing.

“Sir?” The officer asked.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” John said coldly.

You winced, you could already tell, he was furious.

“Thank you, sir-" Click. John hung up. The officer pulled the phone back, a little surprised that the man had just hung up on him like that. He shook it off and turned back to you, “Your father will be here soon,”

You nodded silently, mentally cursing yourself for getting caught.

It was stupid.

All you had been trying to do was get your little brother Dean a gift for his birthday.

A stupid car magazine and a candy bar.

A lame excuse for a present, it wasn’t even a good gift- you had no clue what normal 9 year old boys liked to do for fun, but it didn’t matter because neither did Dean.

It was a dumb thing to do, and you knew that Dean wasn’t expecting anything, but you had felt bad. This year, John hadn’t even mentioned Dean’s birthday- he must’ve of forgotten. When the cashier saw you walk out of the store with a candy bar sticking out of your back pocket and a copy of Car and Driver Magazine stuffed not-so-discreetly under your t-shirt, he yelled for you to stop. You got scared and you ran, so he called the cops.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t stolen anything before, but this time had been different.

The things you usually stole were always necessary. Just a few pieces of bread or an apple or two so you and your brothers could get by while your father was on a hunt.

You looked up at the sound of the door swinging open. Your father strode in and you immediately dropped your eyes back to the floor, not daring to look at him. He nodded emotionlessly to the officer a a greeting, sitting himself into the seat next to you.

“I’m afraid I caught your daughter stealing from the market on the corner earlier today,”

John stayed silent as the officer explained.

“I’ve spoke to her, and we both think a warning is sufficient enough-”

“What did she steal?” John questioned, interrupting the officer.

“A candy bar and and a magazine,” the man responded, seemly a little intimidated by John.

You didn’t look up, but you could feel your father’s angry glare burning into your back, “So, it’s just a warning- does that mean I can take her home now?” John asked, already standing up.

“Umm-“ The officer’s hesitation received an intimidating stare from John. The officer shifted uncomfortably, loosening his collar, “Uh, Y-yes, you’re both free to go. Just no more warnings,”

You nodded, but you weren’t really listening to what the man was saying. You were trying to prepare yourself for the punishment you were going to face when you got back to the motel room.

John put his hand on your shoulder, guiding you out the door and into the Impala. He didn’t say anything on the ride back to the motel. He stared straight ahead, his knuckles turning white as he harshly gripped his steering wheel. He skidded into the parking lot and turned the Impala off. He opened the door, not even glancing your way, “Get inside,” he ordered.

You did as you were told, following him into the dirty motel room. Sam sat quietly coloring while Dean stood at the little table pouring cereal into two bowls he had set out for him and his little brother.

“Dad!” Sam called, a smile across his face.

John didn’t even glance towards him, he stared down at Dean sternly, “Take your brother and leave. Y/N and I are going to have a talk,”

Dean gave you a concerned look, “Dad, I just make me and Sammy dinner-” It was a flimsy excuse, but he tried to help you.

“I said get out.” John repeated, more force behind his words this time.

“Y-Yes sir,” Dean nodded, quickly dragging Sam outside with him.

The second the door shut, John turned, glaring down at you, “You interrupted my hunt,” he said coldly.

You opened your mouth, trying to find anything to say to calm your father down.

“You could’ve been arrested- you could’ve gotten me arrested,” he barked, taking a step towards you. “All for a fucking candy bar and a dumb magazine?” He fumed. You winced when he took another step towards you.

You stumble over your words, “I was... I just wanted to-“ John smacked his hand across your cheek. You stopped mid-sentence, feeling the hot sting on your face. You winced, your hand immediately reaching to the spot he hit.

“Do you really think I care?” He snarled and you took a step back, refusing to let the tears welling in your eyes fall.

You didn’t respond- afraid that if you said anything you’d only end up saying something that would make it worse for you.

He lunged forward, shoving you backwards, hard. You stumbled back, your hands flailing around as they tried to find something to stop your fall. You fell onto the ground, smacking your head on the dusty couch on the way down.

“I asked you a question!” John roared. You held your breath, trying to forget about the splitting pain in your head as you looked up at your father towering above you.

“No,” you shook your head, “No-No Sir,” you quickly corrected. You pulled your hand away from your throbbing temple, grimacing when you saw blood.

Your father didn’t seem to care, “If you ever get caught doing anything like that again, you’re out,” he said, his glare never faltering.

“I’m out?” You asked cautiously, still careful to not upset him.

“Out of the family,” he said bluntly, “I’ll take Sam and Dean and leave you wherever you stand,”

You knew your father could be harsh, but this was a whole other level. You wanted to scream at him and hit him back, but you found yourself nodding and replying, “Yes Sir,” in a hallow voice.

He ordered you to clean yourself up, muttering something about going to get a drink before he left the room and your brothers ran back inside.

You turned away, trying to hide the cut on your head and the red handprint across your cheek.

“Y/N/N, Com’ere,” Dean said, taking a few steps towards you.

You didn’t face him. You didn’t want to worry him, you were fine. Dean grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to face him.

His eyes filled with pity for you as he looked at your wounds, “Sammy, get a washcloth and some water,” Dean told him as he continued inspecting your face.

You watched him, the worry and anger etched into his small face. He was only nine years old, but he was aged well beyond his years, “Dean, it’s not that bad,” you pushed his hand away, but he ignored your protests and started wiping away some of the blood with the washcloth Sam had retrieved.

“What happened?” Sam asked curiously, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Nothing Sammy,” you and Dean said in unison.

“But-“

“Go to bed Sammy, I need to talk to Y/N/N,” Dean ordered.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as dean continued to work on your face. He wiped across one of the cuts on your face, causing you to wince.

“Sorry,” Dean apologized as he kept working.

You shook your head, laughing a little to yourself, “You know, I’m the big sister. I’m supposed to be taking care of you and Sammy, not the other way around,”

“You take care of us enough,” Dean assured, “We’ve gotta be ther for you too,” the room fell back into silence besides Sam’s soft snoring. “What’s Dad mad about this time?” Dean said quietly after a few moments.

You sighed as Dean finished bandaging the last cut on your face, “I screwed up... I almost got arrested,”

Dean furrowed his brows, “What’d you do? Did you steal something? I thought we had enough food-”

“We do. I just,” you sighed, “I was trying to get you a birthday present. I mean, dad hadn’t said anything about it all day so I just figured he forgot. It was just a car magazine and a candy bar, but wanted to at least try to make it a little special for you,”

Guilt washed over Dean’s face, “Y/N, I didn’t need anything I-”

“Dean, I know,” you said giving him a soft smile, “And this isn’t your fault, it’s mine for getting caught and it’s dad’s for being such an asshole,”

Deans eyes widened at the word, not used to hearing you speak poorly about your father.

You sighed bringing your hand up to cup his face, “Dont worry Dean, one day I’ll get us out of here. Me, you, and Sammy can get our own place that isn’t some nasty motel and we can do whatever we want. No hunts, no danger, no drunk dad, just us. And we can be happy,”

Dean nodded, a smile spreading across his face at the thought.

“Happy Birthday Dean,” you whispered pulling your younger brother into a tight hug.

“Thanks Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around your neck and laying his head down on your shoulder.

[bakusoftie]

How about Deku, Katsuki and Todoroki being turned into a cat ( or whatever pet you want ) for a week and their fem s/o taking care of them (like petting,feeding,and playing with them) until they turn back ?

this is so cute omfg

y’all

i fucking love cats

Izuwu, Bakubabe, and Icycutie turning into cats for a week

🥦 izuwu 🥦

apparently some general studies student hated class 1-A so bad that they used their quirk to turn the innocent lil deku into a tiny white munchkin cat with his emerald green eyes and three black spots of fur on his cheeks

he looked so ADORABLE AHHHH

you were walking towards the dorms when you hear the cries of a kitten and looked down at your feet to find the cutest cat you have ever laid eyes on

“Hey there lil buddy!,” you cooed as you picked the ball of fluff up and rested him on your chest.

you thought he reminded you of your crush from the color of his wide green eyes

you couldn’t stop yourself from pecking kisses all over his fluffy face

izuku was sent into a flurry of purrs as he nuzzled his head into your warm chest

he felt kind of bad since you had no idea it was him but he felt so safe and complete being snuggled in your arms and he never wanted to leave

you snook the cute ass fur ball in your room, not before raiding the kitchen for a bowl of milk and leftover pork cutlet bowl that belonged to Denki (it’s okay you left him some money for McNuggets)

you laid the stubborn kitten on your bed but he kept wanting to bury his head in your warmth

“Awww, I’m gonna name you...Deku!,”

the kitten raised his head when he heard that and started licking your hand as if he was giving you little kitty kisses

“You must like that name,huh? It’s because you remind me of him...because you both are so cute!!”

Izuku crawls into your lap and nuzzles his head against your thighs and thinks ‘damn this is the life’

he would never get to do this when he returns to his human form so he for sure will milk the fuck out of this

when your hand comes down to scratch his neck, he swears he has reached heaven as his purring increases and he lets out a little “prrt”

He’s fucking love it

Until he sees you getting undressed...

Then he bulldozes his face into your pillow and let’s out a series of ‘meows’ that kinda sound like his muttering

If you stroke his fur while he eats, he feels like he’s going to combust from joy please don’t stop

6 days later when you’re so used to having this little kitten follow you everywhere and giving you cuddles, you also start to wonder why izuku hasn’t been coming to class lately

until one night when you and Izukitty are cuddling, him being curled into a ball on your boobies

And you feel the fuzzy warmth on your chest start to get heavier

uh

two questions

where did your cat go?

WHY IS IZUKU NAKED AND STRADDLING YOUR WAIST

Izuwu is so flustered and he can’t hardly get a word out except...

“M-Meow?”

💥kitsuki bakukitty💥

ma there's a weird-looking fucking cat outside

seriously...bakugou as a cat is fucking frightening

do not give this fucker CLAWS

well somebody did

and bakugou was fucking pissed

he couldn’t do anything for himself and his quirk wouldn’t even fucking work

not to mention he keeps hacking up disgusting fucking hairballs

it was your turn to take the dorm’s trash out when you see a

sort of cute-looking?

ash-blonde cat with sharp red eyes staring into your soul.

THIS FUCKER POUNCED ON YOUR LEG

CLAWS DIGGING INTO YOUR FLESH

he is literally ‘my cat from hell’

But you thought his aggressive actions just meant he was an abused stray that needed to be nutured

uh bitch

you was w r o n g

you also thought his fur and eyes kinda looked like your crush, Katsuki

so of course,

you named the kitty

katsukitty

he did not wike it

you got so many cat scratches BITCH YOU STARTING TO LOOK LIKE VICTOR ZSASZ

you googled “how to tame an agressive cat” on wikihow and it said to spend time with the cat and play with him so

you took that bitch to your room

and got out a ball of yarn and a laser pointer

“let the chaos begin, katsukitty 😈”

let me just tell you that this bitch’s meows sound like he’s being fucking drowned like

he’s so ugly LMAOASKKS

but the angry little kitten gets used to you and rubs his head your hand as he gets ready to ATTack and nibble the fuck out of your finger

you text kiri to come over and meet your new little friend and

the moment he smells the stench of another male coming up into his territory (aka you)

he fucking asshole

bites a fucking chunk out of kiri’s lightening mcqueen crocs

kiri: gEt yOur fUckinG cAt, BiTch

you: he don’t bite 🙂

kiri: yES hE dO

im so sorry kiri but

those crocs were ugly anyway

katsukitty did you a favor

bakugou is such an asshole cat like he literally jumped up on your dresser for the sole purpose of knocking your limited edition Best Jeanist Funko POP to the floor

yOu shiTTy BitcH

you had to get a spray bottle full of water after he scratched up the All Might t-shirt that Izuku bought you for your birthday

jealous heaDASS

he won’t let anyone inside your room

I mean you saw what he did to kiri’s crocs

So when mineta thought he would be slick and sniff your panties while you were in the shower

Katsukitty didn’t even have to touch the fucker

he just growled and mineta shit his pants

he protecc

he attacc

but most importantly

he a snacc

speaking of snacks,,,

if you try to feed him that gross ass canned cat food

he will fuck your ass up

don’t even think about it

although...he was considering it 😳

but no

once you accidentally dropped some sriracha on the floor and his ass lapped that shit up

you swore to god that isn’t healthy for cats to eat but

you still gave him a whole bowl full

because he made him happy

and you could finally pet him while he ate without getting slice and diced

that’s how most your days were like until the end of the week when you were coming to your room after making Katsukitty a tiny version of Bakugou’s costume

but what you were met with was a naked Bakugou (with only a ball of yard to cover his privates) on your bed

“I’m going to get you back for calling me fucking ‘Katsukitty’ for a week,dumbass”

💙 IcyCutie ❤️

oh this defenseless baby

he has no clue how this happened to him but the moment he sees you, he has the urge to rub his head against your leg?

and he does

you look down when you feel something soft and furry brushing against your ankle

it’s this cute ass slender white cat with an orange spot that covers his left eye and head. His eyes are two different colors and you think he is the cutest thing to ever grace this earth

He’s literally many the ‘🥺’ face and

Your uwus have been

s n a t c h e d

Todorokitty wishes he could communicate with you somehow and tell you that it’s him but then you’re putting him up and holding him tightly against your breasts and

😳 big boobs? small boobs? no boobs? he do not care

his brain just goes: tiddy

honestly you could do whatever you want with him and he wouldn’t care

he’s kinda one of those cats that just want to sleep

he’s such an lazy cat like

just hold him and lay with him please

even as a cat, he is just so touchstarved

the only moment he shows any feral activity is when you brought some Zaria soba for yourself and nasty ass fish for him

this bitch yeeted the fish off the plate and when you’ve gone to go clean it up

THIS BITCH PUTS HIS FURRY ASS HEAD INSIDE THE BOWL

bitch almost drowned in that shit

feed him

peasant

he definitely gets used to you taking care of him and being treated like he’s special and loved because he never got that before so there’s times where he just stares at your with wide eyes and paws at your tummy

he gets the best sleep of his life being cushioned by your body

you are his bed now

sometimes he’ll leave the room and come back to leave you “gifts”

oh

oh god

is that a fucking hamster?

😳 oh no

that’s koda’s hamster

“I understand that you were trying to do a good thing but you have committed an atrocity”

just wait until you get this hoe on some catnip 😈

normally he’s such a calm and collected kitty but once you sprinkle some of that good kush

he go ‘aRrrrOowwww’

he’s basically banging his head on the carpet trying to snort this shit the best he can

you and todorokitty have some good times and some bad times

but you do miss actually Todoroki

it makes you sad some nights because you thought he might be avoiding you

when he sees you sad, it reminds him of his mom tbh and he never wants you to feel this way,,especially if he’s literally right in front you

he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and put tiny kitten licks all over your face

👅 aaaulghh

the next day, you walked into your room after a trying day of school and flopped onto your bed where you thought your precious kitten was so you went to pet the little guy

except you were met with flesh

and i oop

😟

“are you naked? ewwwww.”

Shouto had no fucking shame

He just pulled you into his arms like nothing changed

“Shut up and let me love you, kitten”

[planetjisungie]

jolie- l.mh (part 1)

characters; prince! mark, princess! reader ft. dreamies, yuta and taeyong

summary; when you turn 18, you have to marry the prince of the eastern kingdom to secure an alliance. but what happens when your natural immature and positive personality collides with his cold and negative one.

an; king mark lee needed an au all to himself because this boy deserves the whole world, lets not lie here. also like i love this picture and it sparks big prince energy or like nutcracker ballet energy. also me deciding after 2 days of wallowing in self pity about how i hate having longass posts so im putting it into parts

"y/n! wake up darling!" your mother shook your body awake, causing you to grumble and thrash around. you were just having a dream about this peculiar event of 2 people switching bodies after a handshake. it was rather odd yet entertaining.

"what" you throw your limbs out on the bed in a lazy attempt to stretch and let out a groan. youe mother sighed and stood back. "its your 18th birthday today, the maids have your dress"

ah. there it is. the day youve literally blocked from your mind because of how much you simply detested the idea. it was signed and agreed 6 years ago that you, princess of the southern kingdom, would marry a prince from the eastern kingdom. though you had never met either of the princes, you had heard plenty of rumours and tales, some you believed, some you did not.

you slowly climbed out of bed, staggering a little as you walked towards the maids for your dressing. you didn’t actually need them, unless you were supposed to wear the death trap which is labelled a corset, but your parents insisted on you having them. so, you naturally made friends with them to make it as least of a work space as possible.

"good morning yeonha, nari" you greeted them with a smile which they returned. just because you weren’t necessarily the happiest doesnt mean you should relay the feeling onto the poor maids, and your friends.

"morning princess" nari said, causing you to roll your eyes. yes, they still called you princess out of habit and you hated it. as soon as your brother becomes the king, the first thing you’re doing is making everyone call you by your first name (as your parents refuse to let that happen as of currently).

with a deep sigh, you allowed yourself to be dressed, the constricting corset making you feel like your ribs were about to snap. the dress itself was beautiful though, a long pale blue dress which was off the shoulder, and had mesh sleeved elasticated around your wrists. your h/l hair was naturally curled, and fell around your face delicately as soon as the pin was removed, and one of your maids brushed the tresses. you were lucky in the aspect of hair, it was truly gorgeous and you had never hated it.

the heels were a slightly different case. they pinched your toes and no matter how much training you had to walk in them- they were satans creation. you preferred simple satin slippers, or just any shoe that does not have a stick on the end which could impale someone. a small golden and intricate crown was places atop your head, glittering earrings in and you were finished. you never really needed makeup, your natural beauty was well known in your kingdom though the people saw your kindness shine through more.

the southern kingdom was a very foresty and almost tropical place, with warm breezes and turqouise oceans, yet beautiful green trees and luscious grass, it was practically perfect. the eastern kingdom, was known to be a pretty cold place, not as freezing as the northern kingdom yet not as warm as the southern kingdom. oddly enough, the western kingdom was the hottest, mainly composed of sand and dry stone, one of your best friends lived in the western kingdom, prince jaemin.

huffing again, you left your room, concealing the winces from your feet which were already saw as you walked with quick steps to the throne room, where you would be waiting for the arrival of the eastern royalties. or so you thought. the frown on your face diminished into a look of shock and confusion when you saw the princes already there, turning to your parents who were glowering at you. oops, you were late.

"ah, y/n nice for you to finally join us" your mother said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to stand next to her, facing the princes who were already bowing to you. there were two of them, one of which looked a little older with dark grey hair, and the other who had pitch black hair (pitch black hair was superior). the boy with grey hair was smiling at you and your curtseyed politely, but the black haired boy... he didnt look like he cared at all. reluctantly, you curtsey quickly before shooting a look at your mother.

"we welcome you warmly, prince taeyong and prince minhyung. we hope you enjoy your stay for the next month, dont hesitate to come to us if anything is not up to standards" your father bowed towards the boys. you stared distatastefully at the ground before looking up with a smile. even if you didnt want to marry yet, you may as well be nice to them as it is inevitable.

"y/n, go and make yourself useful whilst we show taeyong and minhyung their rooms" your mother said, staring into your eyes like a hawk. nodding you spun on your heels and walked out of the room rapidly, letting out a thankful sigh that you got out of that situation. roaming down the halls, you walk around, looking for any staff.

"oh! jeno!" you sped towards the knight in training. lee jeno was the mentoree of your mother’s knight, and soon to become yours.

"y/n!" he grinned and you wrapped your arms around him in a tight, warm hug. if you actually had a choice, you probably wouldve married jeno, seeing as he was your best friend and it wouldve been more of a friendship based marriage.

"how are the princes?" he asked, you locking your arm in his as you both walked down the halls. rolling your eyes you turned to face him.

"you know how i feel about this whole shitty marriage debacle. id rather not marry either- though im sure they’re lovely" that was another thing you did. always giving people the benefit of the doubt. jeno grimaced and nodded, his black hair bouncing softly as he did so.

"yeah i know. but you have a month, so maybe it would be good to try and get close to them at least" his naturally deep voice you had grown accustomed to, and it was hard to deny anything he said as all he spoke was truth. it wasnt like you had a choice anyway, it was all for some alliance. "yup" you muttered. looking outside, you saw sicheng, the gardener, planting new flowers and you gasped, tugging jenos arm. "look! lets go help out winwin" you dashed outside as fast as you could in your death traps for the feet, jeno trailing behind you. he knew how much you loved gardening and the outside.

"winwin~" you plopped next to him, promptly kicking off your heels as you kneeled on the soft grass, dress awkwardly flowing out around you. the gardener turned to you and smiled, pausing from digging out the old flowers and replacing them with newer ones.

"princess, did you need anything?" he asked, his attention now fully on you. nodding, you grab the other two trowels and handed one to jeno, grinning at winwin. "we have come to help" you announced, jeno chuckling at your eagerness to dig into soil. winwin nodded. "i see. well, you know what to do"

that was true. you often did spend time gardening with winwin and jeno, so it was unsurprising that you wanted to help again. digging into the dirt with a smile, you chatted with jeno and sicheng, just having a general good time whilst listening to the birds chirping and the riverstreams around the palace rushing. it was a very peaceful place, and you enjoyed it.

mark, who had finished talking with your parents was walking with his advisor, johnny, just around the castle when he saw your brother, prince yuta, looking out the window with a wide smile on his face. once yuta noticed their presence, he bowed towards them.

"oh, my apologies for not noticing you sooner" he apologised, which mark turned down with a small smile telling him it was okay. "is there something going on outside?" johnny asked, moving next to the window to see if something interesting was happening. following johnny, mark also stood at the window, all three of them now squeezed in as they looked out onto the palace gardens. marks gaze wandered before it landed on the 3 figures on the ground, planting flowers. it wasnt hard to figure out one of them was you, your crown gleaming in the sunlight. "did your parents force her to garden for a punishment?" johnny inquired to yuta who shook his head. "not at all, that doofus of a sister of mine likes doing things and has recently found enjoyment in gardening with sicheng" he answered softly, looking at his sister with adoration.

even from the window, mark could practically feel the waves of happiness radiating off of her. yet, they werent there when they met that morning.

[jincherie]

happy zee day! || ‘a yk predicament’

hello everyone it’s currently zee day in AU so !! we’re hoppin on that celebrating shit!!! happy birthday miss zee of @cinnaminsvga !!! i’m sorry your actual fic isn’t up, and that I have yet to complete fox rain 4, but I’m trying!!! I hope this makes up for it a little bit xxxx I love u, and I hope karma lets ur asshole rest this birth year!!! 

pairing | nymph!jk x reader x dragon!yg genre | not applicable. this is a fucking mess NBJHFBJHGB warnings| none! words | 3.6k (oops) sidenote -->  this is a pile of shit but I hope it makes u smile! ily! also i didnt proofread this im so sorry

“Min Yoongi, I swear to god if you don’t stop growling at the poor boy—"

In response to your reprimand, the scaly little bastard turns around and spits and growls at you, apparently even possessing enough balls in this moment to hack up an ember and pelt it your way. You stand in disbelief for a moment, blinking.

The little bastard did not just—

“U-um, p-please! You d-don’t have to—” You turn your gaze in the direction the sudden voice had come from, the speaker freezing and stuttering as soon as your eyes land on him. The nymph blushes instantly, soft emerald-tinged skin tinting pink across his face to the tips of his ears. Still, he attempts to continue where he left off, although his voice quickly loses strength after a few words, “Y-You don’t have to… to fight….”

The nature spirit shifts in his spot where he is still partially angled behind a tree from when your little bastard of a companion tried to bite his hand off, eyes flicking from the forest floor to your face. “I’m… it is my fault… I shouldn’t have revealed myself in the… in the first place. I am sorry, I did not mean to wet him either. Well, I did, but…”

He gulps, risking a glance at your visibly bristling companion, who looks very menacing despite his current tiny stature. At the sight of the glare he is no doubt receiving, the nymph recoils, and your hand begins to reach on instinct to whomp Yoongi a good one on the back of the head. Before you can manage, the nymph speaks despite looking very much like he’d rather be doing anything but.

“I thought… I thought he was a water dragon…”

There is a moment of silence as his words slip softly into the air, and another as they cross the space between you to brush your ears. The second they register, the sudden, powerful urge to guffaw begins to bubble within you, and you’re powerless to stop the loud, ringing laughter from leaving you. Yoongi, however, doesn’t seem to have taken the nymph’s comment in such light spirits.

“RrrrrrRAAAAH! RRRRAH!!! GGRRRRRRHRHHRHRRRRRAH GGRRRAH!!!”

Yoongi attempts to launch at the poor boy, claws out, from his spot on the ground, and despite your tear-inducing laughter you manage to snatch him mid-air with your arms around his middle with nothing short of practiced ease. You don’t need to be fluent in dragon to know that Yoongi just cussed this boy the hell out. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem that the nymph is fluent in dragon either, and he continues unaware of the names he has been called.

“I’m sorry!” He cries, dark chestnut curls flopping across his forehead and flopping over his wide, doe eyes as he shakes his head fervently. “I was—I was just excited! I-I’m the only nature spirit in this forest, around this lake, and when I realised you could have been another water spirit…”

The nymph seems mortified by his series of mistakes, the flowers interwoven and seemingly bonded with his hair wilting slightly as his face reddens further. What. How is that possible? Are they sprouting from his head? You can’t help but reel for a moment as your thoughts take you down a path they probably shouldn’t when you have a spitting ball of scaly anger absolutely frothing at the mouth in your arms.

Thankfully, the slightest wriggle from Yoongi brings your attention right back to the present and you tighten your hold on him, the small dragon yowling pitifully at his foiled attempt to escape. Were you anyone else, you know he wouldn’t hesitate to tear your arms to ribbons in order to escape your grip, but you’ve come to realise in your brief but seemingly endless time together that he would rather do literally anything but hurt you. Why? You’re not sure. You don’t even know why he’s still here with you. The bugger attached himself to you like a parasite ever since you left that witch’s store and you haven’t been able to get rid of him since, let alone get him to part from your side for more than five minutes at a time. You’ve not known true privacy in almost a month.

NOT to seem like you’re complaining, because you aren’t. Your travels had been quite lonely before you had the (mis)fortune of meeting the fun-sized little dragon-spawn—the witch had informed you that he is actually just a baby, by dragon standards, but he’s not an infant per se. Actually, she’d had a bit of a funny look in her eye when she told you that and you’ve still to figure out exactly what it means. You suspect it probably had to do with the fact Yoongi isn’t a baby, but has to be a fucking toddler with the way he carries on sometimes. You never knew dragons were so prissy!

You’d think if a baby wanted cuddles, or affection, they’d ask for it, right? Not this one. The little bastard will sit next to you, not too close but just slightly within reach, and will not say anything for the entire time—and yet, when you don’t immediately know what he wants (cuddles) and when he wants them (right then and right there), he resorts to snapping his jaws around your hand like an untrained pup and glaring at you until you take the hint. Oh, but he won’t beg, or ask for it. Clearly, that’s below him. Yoongi the dragon toddler says ‘fuck y/n lives’, apparently.

You almost don’t even realise you’ve zoned out again until the nymph whimpers, and you realise your grip on the growling, coal-spitting menace has begun to slacken slightly. Sending him a reassuring if somewhat sheepish look, you decide to put an end to the situation at last and hopefully ease the soft-spoken nature spirit a little. You’re still curious about him, after all, and you don’t even know his name. How are you going to find it out if he goes running for the hills in the next few minutes because you happen to have a little goblin in dragon form for your companion?

Without even batting a lash, you free an arm and pull it back closer to your body. Yoongi tenses, as though he’s going to take the opportunity to take flight and launch at the poor boy that had accidentally offended him so, but seems to quickly realise your plan as he whips his head back and hits you with a look of complete and utter betrayal. Too late—he should have thought of the possible consequences when he decided to spit one of his weak ass embers at you. With lightning-fast speed that rivals even his own, your hand shoots forward and secures your well-utilised, trusty grip on the back of his neck. Instantly, as your fingers dig gently into his pressure points between hard scales, he stiffens and then grows completely slack in your hold.

The nymph watches, absolutely in awe, as you hitch the dragon under your arm and rest his weight against your hip. He’s still a baby, so still vulnerable to those same baby reactions—it’s kind of similar to the way a mother cat grabbing her kitten by the scruff of the neck paralyses them momentarily. He’ll be out of the count for a little while now at least. The witch told you about the little hack, saying you probably wouldn’t need it (a bold faced LIE, evidently) and in the whole time you’ve known Yoongi you’ve been able to make very good use of it. He was going to bite you later for it, but you don’t really care. He’s too much of a softie to really hurt you, anyway.

“You’ll have to forgive Yoongi, he’s a bit… sensitive,” you say, offering the boy a smile. He seems to brighten at it, the flowers in his hair lifting a little and his cheeks flushing once more. He shuffles out from behind the tree just a little. “He doesn’t really have the colouring of a fire dragon, and I think he’s a little bit, you know, sore about it.”

You pretend to whisper that last bit, but the disgruntled and somewhat-offended huff from beneath your arm tells you that the dragon heard you loud and clear. Well, serves him right for being an ass.

The nymph giggles at your words, however, and takes another small step out from behind the tree. It is like coercing a small forest animal out from the underbrush, you can’t help but think, and immediately the thought endears you. He’s so cute, with the little flower chain bracelet and the little blooms in his hair—his big doe eyes are probably his most powerful weapon, though, and you sincerely hope he doesn’t know how to use them and you’re not currently being tricked out of your money or belongings or something, You’ve just paralysed your guard dragon, for crying out loud! All you have left is your wits and they’re not the sharpest tool in your shed even on the best of days.

Worrying about such a thing is ridiculous, though, and you know this immediately because despite the fact he’d almost just lost his hand to Yoongi’s frothing maw, the nymph comes closer and coos, brushing his hand tentatively over Yoongi’s snout to caress the myriad of soft blue and dusk-coloured scales there. Yoongi growls and you smack his behind, effectively ceasing the sound.

The forest is still bright and alive around you, vibrating and singing with the birds and the wind, seeming to respond to the nymph’s glee as he admires the small dragon now that the threat around him has been… neutralised, for lack of better word.

“But he is so very pretty,” the nature spirit says, earnestly. You think you catch sight of a blush beneath Yoongi’s scales, and decide to file the observation away to tease him with later, in the event he decides to test you again. The nymph has been speaking fine up until now, when he accidentally meets your eyes and is thrown into another blushing, stuttering fit.  “A-ah, and h-he’s very… very majestic. D-Does he… d-does….ah, nevermind….”

You tilt your head at the shy boy, admiring the way the sun illuminates the silky strands of his hair in a golden halo around his head. You wait until he meets your eyes to talk, offering him another smile. You’d long since introduced yourself when you first spotted him and began trying to coerce him out from behind the tree, but you’ve yet to get him to return the favour.  “What’s your name, oh guardian spirit of this forest and lake?”

The nymph seems to brighten, flowers perking up once more, and he shoots you a large grin that reveals big bunny teeth. You’re about ready to pack him up and take him home, and are simply thankful you’re an evolved being who has the capacity to control such urges.

“I’m J-Jungkook! I-I’m not actually guardian of this forest, or… or the lake. I’m k-kind of… well… To be honest,” he reaches a hand up, ruffling the fluffy curls at the back of his neck. “This forest and th-the lake are under the jurisdiction of the local mountain deity… I’m not needed here. A-Actually, I don’t think I’m really meant to be here…”

A part of you wishes to ask why immediately, but you barely refrain, wishing to allow him to tell you himself. You can tell that even Yoongi is slightly interested now, the mongrel having calmed down in his time spent close to you and now looking up at the nymph as much as he is able with his momentarily crippled mobility.

“I just woke up here a few months ago, without an explanation and without any m-memory of why, or h-how. I c-can’t even… remember anything about before the day I woke up here, besides my name and some other things like that…” There’s a saddened edge to his tone, but he still offers you a smile so sincere it makes his little sprouting flowers glow and preen. “The forest has been kind enough to let me stay here, but I do not want t-to overstay my welcome. I d-don’t belong here, after all. My flowers do not match the ones that sprout from this earth.”

Come to think of it, you hadn’t even noticed that. You direct your gaze around to see if he is right, and when you confirm his words you feel a certain pain of something stab at your chest. Empathy? Sorrow? It’s sad, what he’s telling you. You’re not surprised his story is awakening the maternal instincts inside you that are buried so deep you were convinced your entire life before now that they didn’t exist. Trust the cute, adorable nymph boy your pet dragon almost bit in the forest to bring them out of you.

Well, you’re not one to let anyone be sad for long. You already have one unplanned companion on this trip, why not add another?

“Would you like to come with us, Jungkook?” you ask, deciding not to beat around the bush. “We’re going to the mountain that touches the moon! I need to meet the witch there, I need her help with something. I’m not sure why Yoongi is going, but I’m sure there is a reason. If you want, you can come with us too? There is always room for one more.”

You make sure to send the boy your warmest smile, but still he’s so shocked he almost stumbles back. Of course, it doesn’t help that Yoongi seems to have regained control of his head and attempted to snap his jaws around Jungkook’s poor fingers. “I promise to protect you from my pet dragon.”

You laugh at your own joke, but it’s broken by the cry of pain that jerks from your throat. “HaHAHYOWCH, YOONGI WHAT THE HELL! Don’t make me pinch you again!”

The dragon hatchling, now able to turn his head fully even if he can’t turn the rest of his body, utilises his newly regained range of motion to release your fingers from his mouth and nail you with a heated glare. You know he hates it when you joke about him being your pet (another sore spot you’ve discovered through painful experience), but you couldn’t help yourself when the opportunity was so readily there. You send him a sour look, and he looks away with a huff. If you’re lucky, he might deign to give you the silent treatment later on, and you’ll be treated to an extra few minutes of privacy.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, smiling at the blushing nymph once more. “What do you say? Would you like to come on an adventure with us? I promise it will be fun!”

You could tell Jungkook had already been very close to saying yes, but when he sees your hand proffered out for him to take, he blushes madly again and it seems to make up his mind. He smiles so big that it overtakes his face and his eyes end up shutting in cute crescents. “Y-yeah! Okay! I’ll come! I don’t really have any b-belongings, I’m ready to go when y-you are!”

You smile at him, absolutely endeared, and grasp his hand in yours to shake. His skin is cool against yours, but incredibly soft and smooth. At your touch his flowers shoot up straight, pollen falling from their centre at the motion, and to your complete and utter surprise two more little flowers sprout, wrestling between his curly strands, and pop to unravel into an immediate bloom. Jungkook looks mortified.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shoulders pinching up slightly as his body curves inwards on itself. “That… that happens when I’m really happy. I don’t know how to stop it.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, reaching up to pinch his cheek with your free hand after releasing his own. “Don’t worry, it’s cute! Please don’t stop it.”

Yoongi lets out a discontented growl, at what you don’t know, and you decide to ignore it in favour of getting on your way once more. You have a lot of ground to cover before you reach the mountain that touches the moon, after all!

It isn’t long into the silent first ten minutes or so of the trip, that you break and decide to probe Jungkook for an answer to something you’ve been wondering. Yoongi is still under your arm, disgruntled as ever. He’s regained access to his front legs but his behind and wings are still temporarily out of commission. Although, he’s been so oddly quiet this whole time that you can’t help but suspect that even if he did regain his butt, legs and wings, the sneaky bastard might not say anything so he gets his daily does of cuddles. You don’t know how such a prickly creature can be so damn needy.

“Jungkook,” you start, waiting until you have his attention before you continue; the nymph had been gazing with fondness over the beauty of the forest as the sun filters down through the foliage, a soft smile on his face. You think his cheeks warm again as he faces you, but you can’t tell. “What was it that you were going to ask before? About Yoongi? Now is the time to ask, while he still can’t use his wings.”

Apparently Jungkook left his fear of the dragon back in the clearing where he’d met you, because he lets out a happy sound and smiles. “I can ask?”

When you nod, he brightens. “He is such a pretty dragon in this form, I was just wondering if he is also this pretty in his human form.”

“He’d like to think so,” you answer in automatic response, before the nymph’s words catch up with you a moment later and you almost trip over the tree root in front of you. Yoongi has stiffened completely under your arm, and if you hadn’t caught yourself from falling you might have hurt the both of you. “Wait—his what?!”

“H-his human form?” Jungkook repeats, somewhat nervous at your reaction. “Dragons have a-ancient, powerful magic. They possess more than-n one f-form. D-did no one?”

“WHAT?” you burst, your brain flatlining for a moment. No way. This little punk is playing a prank on you. Tricking you with his big ol’ eyes and sweet disposition—what a low blow. “H-he’s?? Yoongi has never changed into another form. He’s… just a dragon baby? He’s baby? Dragon baby. Dragon.”

Jungkook seems to swallow some of his nerves, curiosity about the new situation seeming to outweigh them. “Hold on, I’ll show you. When they are young, they can’t change themselves. Their parents usually have to do it for them.”

There’s a moment of stillness as Jungkook takes a step next to you, and then Yoongi lets out a squawk and throws his whole might into trying to suddenly escape your hold. He’s not quick enough, though, and Jungkook manages to grab one of the horns atop his head and hold him still long enough to place his palm against the sky blue scales of his forehead. A growl rips from the dragon, but it’s short-lived and cuts off as the scales beneath Jungkook’s hand begin to glow. You blink—once, twice, and you almost blink a third time but before you can there’s a blinding pink-tinged light that beats you to it. Yoongi’s weight escapes your arms, but you’re too busy covering your eyes to try and stop him.

In the time you have your eyes closed, however short, there is scuffling, rustling of shrubbery and a heavy thump followed by an incriminating groan. Ignoring the slight burn and residual effects from the bright light, you search for the source—and you nearly scream as it comes into sight.

Jungkook is there, standing still and unaffected and cute as ever, grinning brightly at a figure on the ground, a new figure that you have enough sense to know is exactly where your dragon should be. Inky hair, some parts silken and some parts singed, hangs over a tan face, partially covering the soft gold eyes you know belong to the dragon you’ve spent the most recent big chunk of your journey with.  The figure isn’t naked, thankfully, having spawned with a loose pair of inky pants and a similarly styled shirt, but he is barefoot and looking a little affronted at the fact, in between the dazedness. From the grumpy aura, the long horns and big ‘little bastard’ energy emanating from this figure, you know it’s Yoongi for sure before you even have to try and consider it rationally. Conceiving that your magical companion is capable of magically turning into a human form isn’t hard to wrap your head around, and isn’t why you’re standing there absolutely gobsmacked, either.

No, that’s because as far as you knew and had been told, Yoongi was a baby dragon. But the male regaining his senses and apparently the nerve to glare at you from the ground right before you?

He couldn’t have been anything less than a year or so older than you. The baby dragon that you babied and teased and messed around with and teased and cuddled and made fun of, isn’t actually a baby. He’s an adult, and he’s—oh. He’s really glaring at you. A sense of dread makes itself known in your stomach.

“You,” the dragon seethes, steam beginning to dance from the crown of his head. “You’re in trouble.”

Well, that was certainly a promise! You can’t help but gulp—with any luck, you’ll still get to the mountain witch in one piece.

Uh, hopefully. In a last-ditch effort, you attempt a prayer. Noo Karma, don’t do this to me… I’ve been so good lately... you wouldn’t spank me if I was innocent, right?…. Haha... unless...??

Okay, you’re screwed.

[lovestrucklosers-archive]

wow, birthday time

summary; all of twst seems to be participating in celebrating rose’s birthday..

words; 1,675..... TOO MANY. HELP

a/n; IVE BEEN WRITING THIS SINCE WEDNESDAY. ITS GOTTEN SO LONG ALREADY. HELP...... ANYWAYS. IM POSTING THIS RIGHT B4 MIDNIGHT SO... HAPPY EARLY BDAY 2 ME DJKFGHKDJFG

the first thing i’m greeted to when waking up is the purring grim against my chest, and the soft covers of my bed, as well as the bright late morning sunshine. i blearily opened my eyes, making a noise of discomfort as i adjusted myself. i mumbled his name, slowly heaving myself up and rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes. i slipped my glasses onto my face and stretched, hearing my back pop. i popped my back more, sighing and yawning.

grim grumbled and stretched out as well, watching as i got out of bed and continued to stretch. i scratched my stomach, pulling an oversized cream sweater over my head. i lifted it up to my nose, basking in the scent of ruggie. 

grim snapped me out of it quickly, grumbling as he lifted himself to his paws. i snickered at him, pulling up my socks to pass my knees in an attempt to warm myself up. i picked him up, and he snuggled against me, continuing to grumble about how it was too early.

“yea, yea, i know, you lazy cat,” i mumbled, heading downstairs. i settled down on the couch close to the stairs for only a moment before i noticed something on the coffee table. i placed grim on the couch, and he made a noise of confusion. i knelt down to see a shoddily wrapped box, strangely, with no note.

“mmph? what’s that?” grim notices this as well; he quickly makes his way over to me and jumps up onto the table, pawing at the box. “oh! this is my gift!” 

he grins at me, “i did this all by myself!”

“you wrapped this by yourself?”

“of course!” he beamed, and i stared at him. he crumbled under my gaze,“well, fine. i had some help wrapping it, but this was all my idea! go ahead, open it!” i rolled my eyes, carefully tearing the wrapping paper from the box and opening it. i peeked inside, tilting my head at the sight inside.

it was a multitude of different snacks, including some pocky, mochi, chocolates, hi-chews, kit-kats, and more. i hadn’t realized my mouth had opened until grim laughed at me, making me close it. “where did you get all of these?!” i demanded, my eyes wide.

“that’s for only me to know,” he teased, flicking his tail into my face. i pouted at him, sticking my tongue out at him. i closed the box, patting the top of it with a grin on my face. 

“as much as i want to eat these right now, these’ll be saved for tonight,” i got to my feet and stretched my legs, “and don’t worry, i’ll share. it’s only fair that i share since you got all of these, afterall.”

he made a happy noise, leaping onto my shoulder as i made my way upstairs with both him and the box, settling it on the bedside table. i exhaled, and he jumped back onto the bed and sat down. while he sat there, looking bored, i quickly changed into something more.. presentable; my usual set of tights and shorts, as well as slipping my necklace over my head and tucking it into my shirt. 

i scooped grim back up onto my shoulder, ignoring his ‘fgnaa!’ of surprise. i exited the room, closing the door behind me, and i made my way to the foyer. 

“where are we going now?” he questioned me as i sliding my boots onto my feet. i steadied him as i stood up, playing with the necklace string. 

“we’re going t - well, i’m going to walk around today,” i proclaimed, pushing my hair behind my ears. “i don’t wanna sit in here all day, so i’m gonna take a walk around the campus.” he grumbled, but didn’t bother to move from his place on my shoulder. i opened the door, being greeted by the noise of singing birds and the sun directly above my head.

― ― ♡ ― ―

“oi! rose! grim!” i turned to see the double trouble duo rushing towards us, most likely having come from the hall of mirrors we were nearing. we stood at the beginning of the bridge, having just crossed it, but now that these two were here, i wondered what plans they would rope us into.

both of them stopped in front of us, panting. they had some kind of excited air to them, however, and immediately, ace had stood straight up with sparkles in his eyes.

he then engulfed me in a hug, lifting me up and twirling me around. grim, seeing this coming, had jumped from my shoulder and landed on the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding being trampled by the excited ace. 

“happy birthday!” ace yelled.

“fuck! holy shit!” i yelped, holding onto him for dear life. i gripped his shoulders, my face getting hotter the longer i remained up in the air. deuce was cautioning ace before we both tipped over. i made a noise of surprise and braced myself to hit the ground, but a pair of arms quickly caught me before i could.

i opened my eyes, looking at an exasperated deuce, who was carrying me bridal-style now. i giggled, seeing ace now on the ground with grim prodding at him.

“i can’t believe that you thought that you wouldn’t both fall over,” deuce sighed, setting me down on the ground. we locked eyes, and laughed, and ace grumbled at us, getting to his feet. grim jumped onto deuce’s shoulder, not even phasing him.

ace then, again, engulfed me in a hug, but didn’t lift me this time, and i embraced him back. deuce joined in shortly after, and i wrapped my arms around both of them. grim took this time to transfer to my shoulder. “happy birthday, rose,” deuce spoke.

they pulled back, and i smiled at them. “thanks, you two,” i turned my attention to ace, “just don’t scare the shit out of me next time.” 

“oh, whatever,” he scoffed playfully, “you enjoyed it! i saw the blush on your face!”

“just because my face was red does not mean that i enjoyed you scaring me!” i retorted, feeling my face heat up again. 

he waved it off, rolling his eyes. deuce cleared his throat and took my hand, leading me and grim back to the hall of mirrors. ace trailed behind, grinning. “where are we going now?” grim whined, pawing at my face. 

“to our dorm!” ace chimed in, taking my other hand, and walking beside me. he swung our interlocked hands as i continued.

“your dorm - ?” an idea popped into my head, “what’re you guys planning? don’t tell me you’re gonna shove a cake in my face..” i narrowed my eyes, and deuce sputtered.

“no!” he glared at ace as if he was planning something, but continued, “i promise it’s nothing bad.”

“if anything happens, blame ace.” grim chimed in. 

“hey!” he barked, turning to pout at me. “can you believe what they’re saying, dear? aren’t they being so mean to me?”

i stared blankly at him, before continuing to walk past him with deuce and grim. we shared a collective giggle as he caught up and linked my hand with his again, and i faintly felt him press a kiss to it. my face heated up ever-so-slightly, and i refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing my face, as deuce continued to talk.

we arrived at the heartslabyul dorm not too far afterwards, and they quickly led both me and grim to the tea garden. the closer we came, the more streamers i saw strewn about. my eyebrows raised, and i glance back and forth between ace and deuce, then met eyes with grim, who seemed to be as equally as confused as i was. wasn’t this the place they did unbirthday tea parties? isn’t my birthday today? why are they hosting an unbirthday party?

i resisted the urge to slap myself as i realized; birthday. today. yours. they’re hosting a birthday party! for you! you dumb fuck! my face grew hot, and i held in my giggles at how forgetful i could be sometimes. oops..

one of the two randomly covered my glasses, making my vision go dark before i could soak in the sight more. i squawked, feeling grim jump as i did so. i almost stumbled over my own feet, but felt ace (on my right) wrap an arm around my waist and tighten it. i leaned into him.

we suddenly stopped, and i definitely would’ve fallen if not for ace and deuce. grim made a noise of surprise and gripped my shoulder tightly; i felt his claws sink into the fabric of ruggie’s sweater, and made a mental note to scold him for that later. 

as soon as the hands over my glasses were relinquished, a loud chorus of ‘surprise’ rang through my ears. i blinked once. twice. taking in the sight in front of me. 

there stood all of the boys i’d made friends within my time here at night raven college (even the tall malleus draconia), surrounding the tables that had been pushed closer together, and set up with dishes and silverware. there were decorations (such as balloons and streamers) appropriately littered about, and.. was that a cake?

before i’d realized it, my glasses were fogging up and i felt something wet roll down my cheeks. grim made a panicked noise, and ace and deuce froze up. it went quiet as i reached up and rubbed my eyes. i sniffed, looking back up and smiling as wide as i could. “i -” i struggled to find the right words, sniffling, “thank you guys… so much.. you have no idea how much this means to me.” i let out a breathy laugh, and the tense air dissipated. 

“jeez, don’t scare us like that next time!” ace grumbled, ruffling my hair. i laughed louder this time. 

“well, c’mon! we’ve all been waiting for you!” he dragged me, grim and deuce over to the crowd of our friends. “let the party commence!”

[mynameseri]

Oops forgot to mark the one you responded too! That’s good and so close! Happy early birthday! That’s good sometimes small is helpful! That’s good! You deserve a break. Aww cute! Erigawa is canon! Yes Aku loves ou with all his heart. Aw yes! 🌹

Its okay that you didn’t mark it! I knew it was you hehe! Thank you so much! I know it’s still a few hours ago, but I’m already so excited and been blessed with sweet messages & gifts (which I am beyond grateful for. I’m so soft to have so many people in my life who care about me rn im not used to this at all).

Right now I’m thinking up little HCs in my mind of what me and Aku would do to celebrate my birthday and I’m just so soft. After all the commissions I’ve gotten done lately, I just have so many thoughts about him and my relationship with him!! I love him with my whole heart ahhh I hope one day in anime heaven I can rlly let him know how much he means to me and how much he’s helped me get through!!

I hope you’re doing well and getting ready for the weekend. Do you have any fun plans for it? If nothing else, I hope you’re able to relax and not work too hard on school! Melody and Kurapika miss you so much; they want to hangout asap! So I hope you’re able to spend some time with them! 

[forehead-enthusiast]

A Buncha Tag Games (and yet not all of them)

tagged by: @eggyukhei mwah

tagging: this is a LOT of games so i’ll only tag @atinyphobe @nsheetee and @veonjun for the SECOND (2nd) game. if they or anybody wants to do any of the other games, absolutely go for it and say i tagged you <3 i’d love to see what you guys say!! (also, tk if you felt like you wanted to answer my questions from the second game i’d be interested to see!)

One:

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

ok SO the song that probably got me into rv 100% (also yes ik this blog is 99% nct but rv is my forever fave no question) was probably ice cream cake!! i had been a casual listener of many groups up until that point and had never really stanned anyone, but icc was so infectious i found myself watching it over and over. i had heard happiness and be natural before but hadn’t really listened too closely, so icc was the song that captured me. after that, dumb dumb only cemented my love for them more, and the red is still one of my favorite kpop albums to date. rv attracted me primarily because of their incredible vocals and their versatility in genres and concepts. i still get so excited wondering what they’ll tackle next!! they’re just soooo unique and have one of, if not the best discographies of any group. i cannot stress enough, I. Love. RV!! also they’re funny and gay so. anyway stream monster once it drops uwu

Two:

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

1. what is your favorite song that’s been released during quarantine? ooooo honestly??? probably something off of Sawayama. literally every song bangs so hard i highly recommend that album to anyone!! i can’t pick a favorite off it but who’s gonna save you now is awesome and xs is just,,, chef’s kiss

2. what is your greatest mishap when you tried cooking? (or something you’ve witnessed) one time, while making soup at my late grandmother’s house on her like gas stove, i put a lid on a pot and somehow that led the pot to be engulfed in flames. IN MY DEFENSE i was like 7, and i’m great at cooking/baking now

3. what’s your go-to outfit or article of clothing? oh i love a nice dress. they can be casual or formal, and you look like you put effort into your outfit except i didn’t because i didn’t have to match anything yo!!!! also shorts have trouble fitting me cause i’m a weird body type so dresses tend to be very comfy for me

4. what is your comfort food? am i allowed to say like all food??? eating in itself is comforting,,, that sounds depressing but also i just like eating yummy food. i guess i’d say like my dad’s fried rice?? its my fave and no one makes it like him soooo

5. what singular moment in your life would you like to relive? i couldn’t tell if this meant like, a good moment you want to re-experience or go back in time and redo a moment and fix it. it’s kind of a hard question so i might cop out and go with a bit of a silly answer: i want to relive the hi touch with astro...... i wanna look at rocky’s beautiful eyes and touch moonbin’s hand ok,,,,

6. what is your favorite line and/or character from a movie, show, or book? i got a bunch but a few off the top of my head are genie lo (the epic crush of genie lo), ty lee, suki (atla), klaus, and ben (umbrella academy) 

7. if you could only choose one ice cream flavor and pizza topping/style for the rest of your life, what would it be? ice cream flavor: this very specific one from a local store that is banana ice cream with strawberries and oreo mixed in. it is heaaaavenly. as for pizza topping, i love a breakfast type pizza with an egg on top and like sausage and stuff!!!

8. what is the worst injury you’ve ever had or witnessed? funny enough, i’ve actually gotten badly injured quite a few times, and always on the face!! god hates me. the worst was probably when i hit a metal bench with my face and it took a chunk out of my cheek. i still have the scar! as for “witnessed” i accidentally broke a grown man’s rib once as a child, so i guess that would count.

9. would you rather explore the unknown of space or the bottom of the ocean? oceaaaan!! i answered this in some other game, but i like how mysterious and yet close the ocean is. like proximity wise it’s so near, yet there’s an insane amount we know nothing about. that’s so frightening but so intriguing

10. if you could be any cartoon character, who would you be? my first thought was literally “kirby. eat fast” GOD my followers are gonna think i’m just a glutton and they’re not even gonna be wrong im dying. but uhh idk mulan or smth?

my questions:

what is your go-to feel good movie?

are you the type of person who’s indecisive about buying, or the type to impulse buy once you see something you like?

do you prefer chocolate-y or fruity candy?

what idol do you think is most similar to you? (not your bias necessarily)

do you have any silly dealbreakers? if so, what are they?

what do you do to unwind?

what is a small thing you like to do for people you love? (be it sending memes, remembering their favorite shows, etc)

what’s/who’s your favorite myth/mythological being?

what is a non-typical pet you would want to have?

do you say pronounce data as day-ta or dah-ta?

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people. 

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

FOUR

the ultimate tag: answer whichever ones you want to because there are a lot and then tag a few blogs you’d like to get to know better! 

PERSONAL

name: sarah

nickname: bells

birthday: april 17th

zodiac: aries

nationality: chinese american

languages: english, some spanish, some korean

gender: female

sexuality: baby bi bi bi~

height: 5′10

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: i suppose nct since i write for them the most?? but i feel like sometimes i come up with the idea before i think of a member so sometimes the muse is just my own fantasies oops

meaning behind my url: i made it at a time where loads of idols were getting bangs and honestly i believe most of them look infinitely better without them, thus i was and still am enthusiastic about foreheads.

blog established: like winter of 2018...?? i think

followers: over 2.5k but most deactivated/left during my hiatus lol

FAVORITES

favourite animals: sharks, chickens, snakes, cats, penguins

favourite books: the epic crush of genie lo and then iron will of genie lo, PERIOD

favourite colour: pink and purple!!

favourite fictional characters: lol, again, genie lo, ty lee, suki, klaus, ben, and just a few more: richard and evelyn o’connell (the mummy), dave (dave), michael (the good place)

favourite flower: sunflower

favourite scent: baking chocolate, heating butter, blackberry, wisteria

favourite season: probably spring! i like warmth but not HEAT

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: ugh idek i sleep horribly

cats or dogs: both, but unfortunately i’ve never had either

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea but then hot chocolate

current time: 5:29pm

dream trip: go to paris and eat loads of pastries and enjoy the fashions and beauty of the city, and also learn to bake better maybe?

dream job: actress

hobbies: making jewelry, drawing, singing, reading comics

hogwarts house: according to the quizzes, all of them. people who have just met me think slytherin or gryffindor, people who i’m friends with think ravenclaw or hufflepuff, people who know me really well know you can’t box a person into oversimplified archetypes :’) in my assessment of myself, it varies by the day, but i think perhaps gryffindor today?

last movie watched: hot fuzz (a classic)

last song listened to: summer breeze by sf9

no. of blankets you sleep with: like 2

random fact(s): i won lego building competitions as a child, one of my dream roles is anastasia from the musical named after her, i played violin for a very short time, i bake the cakes for all my family and friends’ birthdays, i have strangely strong grip strength

SIX

10 songs i can’t stop listening to:

love me 4 me- rina sawayama

cherry- rina sawayama

in & out- red velvet

crush culture- conan gray

manic- conan gray

the king- conan gray

summer- pentagon

told you now- jeremy jordan (originally sung by sam smith)

fuck this world (interlude)- rina sawayama

someone who loves me- sara bareilles

[fluffyballme]

Garden

Let's put this in their second year, because we all know they are school sweethearts

It was sunday and spring just started which means Neville will be there to see his beautiful flowers grow

He dressed fast and eated faster and if Harry wasn't staring at Draco he would be suprised of why is he hurrying so much

But Hermione explained him (because she is good friend and remembers when her firends talks about something they love) as she continued reading book

And so he made it to green house just in time and oh god he could already see small flowers growing! Spring is-

There was anoder boy, at his flowers, smelling them and talking to them- what is going on?

,,Umm sorry uh.. who are you?"

,,Theodore Nott"

He was Slytherin, he heard about him

He was different from other Slytherins Neville met, he was much more caring than other Slytherins, he heard about him because kids weren't so nice so they talked behinde his backs mean stuff about "how he could be Slytherin when he should be Hufflepuff!" and other mean things he doesn't even want to remember

And that boy- Theodore made him feel.. weird

He had small curls at end of his hair, like really small, he smiled to him- he also had most beautiful smile ever and his eyes, god his eyes

,,I am sorry I just wanted to see these flowers-" he started to explain himself and why he is here but just stopped, ,,I am sorry, I will leave if I am making toruble"

He apologised and wanted to leave but Neville couldn't let him leave

,,No! Uh I mean, no you can stay, I mean I have nothing against you here because this is school's and everybody is welcome- I am sorry, I am talking to much"

And Theodore laughed and Neville felt like he could die instantly, his laugh was soo cute that it made Neville blush and amile softly

,,How is this plant called?"

,,Leaping Toadstools"

,,Oh and that?!"

,,Mimbulus mimbletonia"

,,And that! What's that? It looks soo beautiful!"

,,Uhh it's just Narcissus."

,,Oh.."

Neville just couldn't help but smile/blush whole time Theodore was asking him

And from that moment they just somehow started to hang more and more, it just happened

It started as hang outs in green house and then as learning sessions, walking around halls together and even eating together

Sometimes if day was bad other would take food from great hall for both and would sit on wall eating silently enjoying each others company

They became inseaprable

And finally in 4th year Neville got courage to ask him out

Both never realised they were falling in love but they were, hard

Theo blushed hard when Neville (finally) asked him out

And Neville was so stupid because he thought Theo would reject him- quoting Theo Nott's words!

On their first date Neville was a little late and he got good reason, he was picking narcissa's for Theo because now Neville made plan, from now on till rest of his life he will give Theo one narcissa after he got from work (not that he was so madly in love that he was already planing marrying Theo and spending rest of his life with him, certanly not!)

Theo blushed when Neville explained why he was late

But loved Neville even more because of how caring and sweet person he is

And so they dated, at first it was awkward for both because they were also each other's best friends but what they felt wasn't friendly, it was more than friendly feelings

They were school sweethearts, both socialy awkward to show it in public but alone they couldn't get enough of each other

And then everything started

(Theo for every Neville's birthday sended him present and one narcissus in sign of love)

Dark Lord is back.

Death Eaters were called and Neville not knowing Theo's family were Death Eaters, talked about how he joined Dumbledore's Amry and he should too! He praised everything against Dark Lord and Theo agreed , he hated Dark Lord and loved his family

Neville was always caring boyfriend and he will stay one forever, but it was just he never noticed Theo being off, he never noticed Theo being forced into being Death Eater

And so war started and everybody had their side; one heart broken in two peices, both good but teared into something more than themselves

But Theo decided he couldn't do it

So he ran and ran and ran

He run to try to find Neville, he wanted him, needed his soft hugs, softer kisses and his calming voice telling him everything's gonna be fine

He found him just before fight started, Neville was preparing for fight all tensed

He noticed Theo and he wanted nothing more than run to him and give him biggest hug ever, but he can't, he couldn't

He ignored him and Theo's poor heart broken every time more and more until he screamed on top of his lungs at Neville making him listen

He explained that he (and Draco, Blaise and Pansy and half of Slytherins) were forced into becoming Death Eaters because of their pureblood families, he apologised for not telling him, for just running away from him, for everything he could

And Neville kissed him hard and pssionate- he never kissed him like this unless they were having small make out sessions-

That was last time Theo saw him (he had to defent Hogwarts) and so did Theo, this was his true home

He stood next to Draco and Blaise looking at Harry's dead face and crazy lunatic of wizard being happy over finally killing a teenager

Draco screamed on top of his lungs when he saw Harry's dead body in Hagrids amrs

They all fought together, side by side

They all sat down in circle next to each other cuddiling still in shock

He was in Neville's conforting arms, everything was already better

(everyone spend their summer in Grimudal place taking care of each other, it was better with company)

Eight year came and every student got job help rebuilding Hogwarts

Neville got to rebuild Green house with Theo and planting plants, drawing on pots, cleaning mess and making new furniture for Green house was Neville's best dream ever and he wish never to wake up

,,Neville, look! Narcissus are growing, who planted them?"

,,I did- uh that's our flower so I had to, you know plant that one too ove-" he was cut off by Theo kisssig him with biggest smile on his face

_

It was hot summer day, it just fited for late July weather. In early morning was still cold and little foggy but at 12 it already started to brun, afternoon was kind of better but only from 5 and then night falls and it was once more colder.

Neville was just sitting on ground in garden, it was around 6pm and he was enjoying in shade that house made while slight wind was making perfect shade for Neville to take care of his plants.

It was late July, to be more precise it was 30th of July Neville's birthday. Whole day owls were just flying in and out of their house bringing birthday cards sending him best wishes, much love and even more happines and of course teasing how old he is now. All of them made him happy and he loved every single one of his friends, he was luckiest man alive to have such great friends and even better husband- Theodore Nott, oops Theodore Longbottom.

Today Neville got to sleep late in morning, to be precise he woke up at 10am and there was already over 20 letters waiting for him to be opened. But also there was no sight of his husband, actually his husband went missing for whole day but Neville was sure he's doing something very important so he didn't want to bother but also that meant he would have whole day for himself to relax and enjoy on his birthday.

So he did. Whole day he waited for weather to cold down so he could go out and take care of his beautiful and big garden. And it finally cold down, it was perfect time to garden and drink tea or some cold drink in garden. So he made himself a cup of tea and put on table on balcony they had to cold down a little while he took his tools for garden and went in garden.

,,There you are!" Soon enough Neville heard so fimiliar voice behind him and he recognised it the second he heard his voice.

,,Oh there you are! I was now a little worried where are you whole day." Neville confessed as he was about to stand up to greet his husband but it was too late, Theo already kneeld down to kiss his beloved husband.

,,Yeah well I was searching for something special and it's of course for you." Theo said slightly moving away from Neville's comfrotable pressence to get what was in bag, ,,Here you go, new plant book! I knew yoy were searching for this for a long time and well I kinda pulled few strings to get it," Theo confessed and laughed to himself a little and he continued, ,,and how would this be your birthday without these," Theo suddenly pulled from his back beautiful white flowers; narcissus. ,,happy birthday love." Theo wished to Neville as he pulled him from kiss and smiled softly while he still conected their forheads together.

,,Thank you love." Neville thanked him as he smiled softly being blessed he has such husband, God was he lucky.

Im literally posting this in 23:15, but i was preparing for hospital im going in tomorrow so i didnt have time to finish this but whatever; happy birthday to one of my fav characters ever, he learned me that i can be who i am no matter how i look outisde its important who i am inside! So here it is for neville and he's lovely husband, happy birthday! <3

[elenatria]

If you ever draw/write about Bacho-"sexy vodka Dad" and Pavel-"I am a puppy too, look at me" i Will be finally able to go sleep in peace after the tears i have spent for this show, the dogs and all the things i have learnt over the years about Chernobyl and that will always terrify me (im from Italy sorry for my English).I have the unhealthy habit to use smut as a way to cope with fear and depression + i am a shipper trash + i love your art. Thats just me, 3,6 out of 15000 not great not terrible

Oops, I just realized this was the first mention of Vodka Dad. Sry. And darling, we’re all coping with something here. Coraggio.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407543/chapters/48586697

Strange, feverish dreams taunted Pavel’s sleep that night. Later on he wondered if it was too much vodka or the smoke he inhaled from his comrades’ joints; or maybe it was the constant worry that something might happen to the stranger who had taken him under his wing, the only man in his life who bothered to teach and protect him.

He dreamed of dogs with children’s faces and children with dogs’ faces grinning grotesquely at him, their teeth glinting in the sun. Closing one eye he pointed invisible guns at them, and he was suddenly five again. His father was giving him a toy rifle for his birthday although Pavel couldn’t see his face. “But it isn’t my birthday,” he tried to mumble, his lips and tongue heavy and swollen as if he had just been to the dentist. “Nonsense,” his father replied patting him on the back, “it is your birthday every day.”

The eerie abandoned yard from a childhood he never knew was replaced by red padded seats as he found himself watching “La Boheme” from the balcony of the National Opera House. Bacho was sitting next to him in a beautiful cream suit and a tie that were complementing his olive skin, holding his hand, crying. When Mimi in her deathbed sang to Rodolfo “Nobody is alone in April” Pavel turned to ask if that was the same Mimi they used to feed at the park, only to find him pointing the toy rifle at him before turning it against himself. Bacho steadied it under his chin and before Pavel could do anything to stop him, he pulled the trigger mouthing “Bang!”.

Pavel didn’t hear the deafening shot, instead he felt it in his gut when everything turned white, engulfing him in a deadly light.

Not a single sound came out of his throat even if he knew he was screaming his lungs out.

He woke with a jerk and a gasp and panted desperately for air, for toxic, poisonous, radioactive air, the only air that he had. The sweat on the nape of his neck and on his thighs was pooling under him making him sticky. Since he got there he thought that any dream with Bacho would make him hard and sticky but instead of delightful swelling and moisture, the only dampness on him was gathering in the corners of his swollen eyes. The shock of a voiceless cry was rippling through his body making him choke again and again until his whimpers weakened into silent sobs smothered by his pillow.

It didn’t take him long to remember he was crying like a baby in a tent with another nine men. He held his breath to listen: luckily, they were still in their cots, snoring. He cocked his head, looking for Bacho in the half-light.

The cot was empty.

He put his clothes on hastily and tiptoed out of the tent making sure there were no eyes watching him. Garo was the only man outside, sitting on a small barrel and smoking alone like he always did before breakfast, piercing the teal blue mist of dawn with his crimson snuff.

“Where’s Bacho?” Pavel asked.

Garo made a couple of smoke rings like a man relishing the solitude of an early morning before he bothered to reply. “Gone,” he croaked spitting out a leaf.

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Pavel felt his pulse quicken furrowing his brow. “Why so early?”

“He’s gone hunting.” The Armenian inspected the boy’s lost expression with eyes as curious as they were fathomless. “Alone,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Well… did he say why?”

“No, he just told me to keep out of his face or he’d chop my balls off.” He tilted his head sideways resting his eyes below Pavel’s belt, as if to measure him. “Not sure you’d get the same treatment though,” his voice trailed off mysteriously.

Pavel stood in front of the man and gaped, unable to think of a fitting answer.

“He’s getting the truck now.” Garo puffed out the last smoke, threw down his cigarette and ground the butt into the dirt.  “You might want to catch him,” he nodded at Pavel knowingly.

Pavel’s eyes widened as he felt ants crawling all over his body.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

With a single sharp inhale he held onto his hat and sprinted through the silent tents until he reached the trucks. He halted in the middle of the parking lot, frantically scanning the empty immobilized vehicles, almost sniffing the air for Bacho’s manly scent. He crossed a couple of aisles until he spotted the heel of a black boot disappearing into a truck. A veiny dark-skinned arm slammed the door closed.

“Wait!”

Pavel ran to the truck and banged his fist on the glass until Bacho was forced to lower it.

“What the fuck are you doing to my window?” the irascible Georgian barked. “Get the hell out of here, go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?” Pavel coughed trying to catch his breath.

“Animal control, what did you think?” Bacho spat, annoyed.

“Alone?”

“YES, alone, now keep walking.”

“I’m coming with you,” Pavel cut him off decidedly, ran around the front of the truck banging on the hood as if they were going on a picnic at the end of the rainbow and pulled at the door handle before Bacho could jump over the seats to push the lock down.

As Pavel barged into the truck he almost fell on Bacho who was still reaching for the lock. The older man raised his hands, defeated.

“I thought I wouldn’t babysit just this once…” he rolled his eyes.

“Who says you’ll have to babysit me?” Pavel quipped, his face as expressionless as a statue.

Bacho shook his head and started the engine, cursing under his breath.