#...like you know the stereotype where parents force their kids into certain classes so they can be a lawyer or something?

[uncanny-tranny]

If I ever become a parent, I think I'd probably hold off on those gender reveal parties until the kid tells me what they are, and like... nothing would change afterwards obviously, but it's an excuse to eat a cake and give them gifts, plus it's a nice memory that I wouldn't have had if the reveal was held before they even had a chance to speak for themself.

[donnerpartyofone]

I just saw this poll that was apparently the product of a debate among non-Americans as to whether or not summer camp is real. Americans were supposed to select one of several answers describing how real it actually is and what their direct experience is with it (like "I've been to one" or "I've heard of them but never known anyone who went"), as if to prove their claim. One option suggested it was only for rich people. Never in my life did it occur to me that the reality of summer camp was up for debate, but I also never thought about the economics of it. As a kid I was just glad I didn't have to go; forced-fun is really hard on me still, I hate even friendly competitions because I am literally incompetent, and I couldn't imagine being in a situation where I wouldn't ever be alone for days or weeks at a time. We had to go to band camp, which was just a day thing at school for a month or so, and I'm sure that was a combination of our parents just wanting to get rid of us and also wanting us to have extracurriculars on our record. But it never occurred to me that proper sleepaway summer camp was out of our price range, probably because wealthiness was not part of the cliche of summer camp.

Like, the 1980s was the era of a film subgenre called snobs versus slobs, a prime example of which is the movie MEATBALLS, which pits kids at a working class summer camp against the rich jerks at a much ritzier camp nearby; the stereotypical vision was that summer camp is for everyone, but the rich people versions are less wholesome, farther away from the American-as-apple-pie camp experience god intended. I also recall a Saturday morning cartoon called Camp Candy, in which John Candy was the beloved counselor of an earnest little camp that was under threat from a rich developer--again here, money is the enemy of the salt of the earth, egalitarian decency of summer camp. ERNEST GOES TO CAMP involves scrappy juvenile delinquents at a camp that is antagonized by a greedy strip mining corporation, so money is only a theme insofar as "camp" represents something common and honest that is antithetical to contaminating wealth. The standard summer camp narrative is most often about underdogs trying to save something they love, and not about rich people either finding their souls or getting their comeuppance (unless they're the bad guys who are generally not "real", sincere campers). Personally, my closer cultural connections are with FRIDAY THE 13TH and SLEEPAWAY CAMP, which take place in rural New Jersey; nowhere is there the idea that Jason Voorhees' mom was rich, and although there's evidence of wealth regarding the first family you meet in SLEEPAWAY CAMP, the prevailing image is not of snotty prep school students, but of regular, somewhat coarse suburban kids who don't mind skinning their knees and getting their hands dirty and eating cafeteria slop dished out by a filthy pervert.

I do get the idea (just now, from searching the internet) that summer camp is exorbitantly expensive nowadays due to inflation (and probably escalating greed, just like with everything else), but even though it can involve room and board etc for days or weeks, I never acquired the prejudice that camp in general was only for the upper crust, like I'd assume about ski school or uh sailing lessons or I don't know what. And I mean there's a lot of stuff like that in mainstream media, where e.g. blue collar families have homes and possessions that are WAY too nice, or something like that. It's just something film and TV creators do to make things more inviting and less depressing, I think, and that can skew popular conceptions of how expensive certain things actually are. But I'm looking at a Reddit right now confirming my perception that versions of summer camp were available to middle class Americans in the 1960s-80s, and that the idea that the price tag of it would compete with college tuition is pretty recent. But it's still funny to me how often I see people on here assuming that if they've never personally experienced something, no matter how often they've heard of it, then it's probably not real. That's some protagonist syndrome shit right there. Just because you've seen an artificially enhanced version of something on TV doesn't mean it's a fake idea contrived to make an idiot out of you. You can do that all by yourself.

[piedpiperart]

It was an interesting read. :) I know very little of the full DC universe, but yeah, you're totally right about that superman and batman thing. it's why Batman is my favorite hero from there. He shows you don't really need a fancy power to be one.

Right?!

It’s one of the main reasons why I like batman so much. I used to really hate Superman growing up and I never really knew why until later. It was cuz it bugged me how he’d always act like he was the know it all on justice, and viewed people with powers or groups or certain actions that didn’t fit his worldview as the bad thing that meant that person was bad.

Superman didn’t really get the black and white, and much like All Might, a lot of that gray is about discrimination. For a lot of small time criminals, they get to where they are because lack of education, money, support, etc. Batman knows this, understands it, makes charities as Bruce Wayne to support people like that. Superman might know but not understand. He’s also not rich so sure he might not be able to solve it really, but he’s still a daylight/spotlight hero. No one would expect Batman to do a press conference on discrimination, but that’s something Superman has the power (and responsibility) to do. It’s what Bruce Wayne does.

This discrimination is a lot like in My Hero Academia. Bad quirks are seen as villainous. Take Hawks and Miruko versus Spinner for example. All three are mutant/body changing quirks based on animals. However the only difference is that Hawks and Mirukos quirks are able to be fetishized by the public/media. Spinners Lizard mutations are seen as gross and momsterous, leading him to a life of crime because of the discrimination he got from kids, adults, when looking for a job, etc.

Miruko being a bunny quirk also had the added stereotype of being weak, meek, shy, etc. She feared getting stuck with those labels and made herself work to be seen and act differently to become a strong powerful hero. But her costume still shows her femininity, people still underestimate her, she’s not overly valued as a hero because she’s not seen as stronger than most of the top ten men heroes, etc.

Same could be said for Shinsou. Evil-stereotyped quirks get certain treatments and can lead to less choices in life for jobs, friends, etc. Stuff like that All Might isn’t aware of and won’t think to advertise or fundraise for.

It’s also the same for people with ‘good’ quirks. How many people do you think were chosen for a job specifically for their quirk? Like lie detector Tsukauchi. Was he pressured into police work? Could you imagine him being a chef or something else? It’s the same with heroes and villains. Could you imagine someone with shigarakis quirk running a coffee shop? Probably not and that’s the problem. Quirks are valued and that makes people valued differently.

Bakugo too is seen as a heroic quirk, but could also easily be spun as a villainous one. Depending on how he was raised and how/where he grew up, he could have been a hero or a villain. It was speculated that bakugos parents are middle class, maybe a bit richer. What do you think would have happened if Bakugo was poor? If he went to a school district in a different area? If they saw him as a thug instead of a hero. You think he would have been able to keep his snappy personality? Or would he be forced to keep his head down so no one would feel threatened and call the police on him?

There’s so many different layers to quirks and quirk discrimination that All Might and Superman type heroes are generally unaware of. You can see this with Iron man and the xmen. Iron man in the mcu wants the Accords, that have restrictions on mutants and want mutants to be documented. He, as a person without powers, doesn’t understand how this would affect the lives of people like Peter or Wanda (which is one big arguement I would have for having peter on team iron man but he’s also a gullible kid here so I’ll let it slide) and often in xmen comics the accords screw over many many mutants. (Prime example is Cloud 9) Xmen also have issues though. Take a look at Charles Xavier, who, in many comics and even shows like xmen evolution, puts much more time and effort into helping the mutants who could pass as normal humans or come from good backgrounds or have useful powers.

Take xmen evolution, where Charles doesnt put effort into helping the brotherhood as much as he could have. He doesn’t spend time helping the kids with problems that parents would, instead focusing on training and etc. Many xmen leave because they’re not receiving the help they need. Mutants like nightcrawler, beast, toad, etc. are often overlooked because they don’t have ‘cool’ powers. This can also be said for hulk. These type of powers are seen as less or worse or evil, etc.

In one spiderman cartoon, peter starts mutating uncontrollably into a giant spider. Xmen who look perfectly normal are like you should accept yourself for who you are, sorry we can’t help you. Meanwhile Beast knows exactly what Peter is going through and helps him in a way that actually matters, in a way that he needs. So. It shows that even within marginalized groups there’s different groups or levels within that can be at odds.

It also shows a lot of parallels to real life struggles with poc, lgbt, disabled, neurodivergent, and women’s rights,etc. in the LGBT community there’s many parallels to xmen and the TYPE of sexuality/gender you are. Gay people are discriminated against yes but they can and do often exclude trans people or people of more specific (or less marketable, etc) sexualities or people of color or disabled people within that community. Just like Xmen and certain good or bad powers. Or quirks and the discrimination surrounding that.

I think mutants or quirks in general that have a visible outward appearance are particularly interesting in this case. Media and society play a huge part in whether or not certain people are socially acceptable/good/bad. Back to the point about Spinner versus Hawks. Hawks and Miruko are fetishized by the media, hero society, etc. You don’t see Ryuku(I forgot her name but the dragon lady in MHA) who can turn into a full on dragon, being marketed the same way. Spinner and Gang Orca (I’m talking about in the anime not in real life, shush) are not being fetishized by the media or heroes, were bullied in much the same ways and are seen as scary. Ectoplasm too. You also don’t see them closer to the top ten heroes rank. You don’t see them much in the show either.

Even in Class 1-A, you see clearly what is being valued when you look at the main characters. What are their quirks? Ah yeah strong ones, right. But do they have anything that would allude to them not having a normal physical appearance? Nope. Tsuyu occasionally because while she is frog she can be marketed as sexy and cute to the public. Mina is harder to do than Tsuyu but still can be marketed as cute ‘despite’ her eyes, skin, horns, etc. You know who won’t be marketed like that? Tokoyami and Shoji and Kouda. You hardly ever see them in the anime either. Not main character material. Not classified as cute, etc. harder for business students to market them as heroes, seen as not as strong, etc. I guarantee the writers coulda made tokoyami a powerhouse, could have done so much with Mina’s acid or Kouda controlling animals.

So not only is it shown in anime, it’s also marketed that way to the viewers who prefer the cute boys, etc., it’s not as popular a show if the mcs aren’t cute. Same with MCU and DC movies. Justice league movie? Great but let’s take out hawkwoman and Martian manhunter. Only sexy men and one woman allowed. Avengers? Great but let’s focus on the ones without discrimination and limit parts with Bruce Banner and get villains that are aliens and very clearly ‘other’.

One movie that was great with this was guardians of the galaxy in that they had clear differences physically and not in a sexy alien fetish way. I liked that, that they were a ragtag group of very very different people and still made a family. (Leaving out the latest love and thunder movie tho) But in that show it was clear to see that the main characters were not all the stereotypical white men and women with cool and a useful powers. Sure they still had one white dude but I think it’s great he doesn’t have any actual powers.

Deadpool also does an awesome job with this!! Having disabilities, plus size characters, key women characters (domino) other than the one girl who was a plot device (Vanessa) and poc (russel and domino), etc. and a lesbian couple! Love it. And I love the found family aspects and the diversity! It makes me happy to see.

Even deadpool in deadpool 2 shows that xmen has issues within them. In that conference room most were white men tbh. They value certain kinds of people and often the rest of the mutants with unfavorable powers go with Magneto, just to be accepted even if he’s got evil and bad intentions. To me, Charles and Erik have bad intentions and don’t actually care about helping the mutants have a safe space, they’re mostly focused on how the rest of society will accept them. Charles wants to do it peacefully and magneto wants to do it forcefully. They don’t actually set up any kind of contingencies or start petitions and laws and policies that will actually help these poor kids. (Ex. Morlocks)

In the justice league too, you can see the characters with more physical differences like Martian manhunter, lagoon boy, beast boy, etc. aren’t many. They’re not seen as main character material, not able to be marketable in the same sexy way that Hawkwoman could be, etc. they’re underutilized in the league and underrepresented. Take killer croc or the killer shark guy. There’s literally so few of them around in DC comics and movies and aren’t marketed to the general audience. Like, there’s a reason why Marvel focuses on certain characters over others. Reason why they focus on avengers over xmen. But it’s changing and more diverse characters are being represented so that’s good. Hope they keep it up👍

Anyways this is getting super long so I’ll leave it here, sorry if it doesn’t make sense? But I just love talking about stuff like this

[badgeworn-arc]

𝐉𝐈𝐌  𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑   :    𝐀  𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟔-𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟐.              ↳           ft.    his  parents,   his  high  school  years  &  career,   his  military  career,   &   his  relationship   with  diane. triggers:    mentions  of   addiction,   alcoholism,   war,   ptsd,   cancer,   &   child  death. 

JAMES   &   CINDY   HOPPER: james  and  cindy  hopper  (   formerly  williams   )    met   in   hawkins,  indiana  where  both  were  born  and  raised.  shortly  before   james  would  be  whisked  off  to  fight  in  wwii   just  like  his  father  had  been  before  him,   the  couple  married   and  in  1942  ,   three  years  before  the  end  of  this  war,   they  welcomed  their  first  &  only  child  :     JAMES   ‘   JIM   ’   HOPPER  III.      his  father  was  exactly  how  you’d  expect  a  military  man  of  this  time  to  be,   his  mother  stayed  at  home  for  it  was  much  more  important  for  her  to  keep  the  house  and  their  son  in  order.     jim’s  relationship  with  his  parents  was  mostly  .   .   .   neutral.   he  had  a  harder  time  with  his  father  than  his  mother    ━     perhaps  we’re  all  just  hardwired  to  reject  our  fathers  or  perhaps  they  just  truly  never  saw  eye  to  eye  especially  on   what  jim’s  future  would  and  wouldn’t  hold.    the  hoppers  were  an  upper  middle  class,   white  picket   fence,   american  dream  sort  of  family.    it  used  to  be  something  jim  looked  up  to  ,   it  was  something  he  wanted  and  dreamed  about    ...    it  later  becomes  something  he  resents.    maybe  he  still  wanted  the  family,   but  the  idea  of  being  a  carbon  copy  of  his  father  scared  the  shit  out  of  him.    JIM  WAS  A  GOOD  KID.   he  got  in  normal  kid  trouble  and  scuffles  with  the  other  boys  in  the  neighborhood,   he  let  his  father  persuade  him  into  sports  and  he  helped  his  mother  around  the  house  and  overall  he  was  just  ...  good.    it  wouldn’t  be  until  later  that  his  parents  would  label  him  as  anything  else.  

HAWKINS  HIGH   (   1956  -  1960  ): jim  hopper  ,   better  known  simply  as  hop  or  hopper  ,  was  never  on  the  outskirts  of   hawkins  high.   he  knew  everybody  and  everybody  knew  him.     hopper  was  your  jock,   your  popular  kid,   your   ‘  king  ’   of  the  school     ━     far  from  your  stereotypical  one  though.       with  a   c  average   and   a  heart  too  big  for  its  body  ..   jim  hopper  could  honestly  say  he  was  friends  with  almost  everyone.     he  had  his  favorites  of  course,   you  never  saw  him  without   benny  hammond   or   joyce  byers  horowitz   by  his  side.     honestly  he  couldn’t  tell  you  where  either  of  those  friendships  truly  began,  well,  benny  maybe.  they’d  grown  up  not  far  from  each  other  forced  together  in  the  ways  that  boys  were  told  to  go  outside  and  get  dirty  in  the  same  way  girls  were  kept  inside  and  taught  how  to  stay  prim  and  proper.     JIM’S  HIGH  SCHOOL  DAYS  CONSISTED   OF   football  games  and  stealing  kisses  from  cheerleaders  under  the  bleachers  and  ditching  class  to  smoke  cigarettes  with  a  certain  brunette  who  everyone  reminded  him  was  nothing  but  trouble.   they  just  didn’t  know  her  like  he  did.       people  would  say  it’s  so  he  could  keep  his  grades  up  or  his  reputation  clear  ,   it  was  true  that  if  he  hadn’t  had  someone  to  stay  on  his  ass  about  classwork  and  homework   ━    he  might  not  have  graduated  at  all.   he  was  smart  but  he  didn’t  apply  himself  all  the  way  unless  it  was  for  football.     he’d  drag  joy  out  to  social  events  and  she’d  drag  him  to  the  library, but  it  was  never  for  show,  he  truly  enjoyed  her  company  even  though  they  couldn’t   have  been  more  different. as  for  the  social  aspect  of  high  school,   he  needed  no  help  with  that,   much  like   he  would  in  the  future  jim  left  a  string  of  broken  hearts  behind  him    ━    never  really  keeping  a  girl  around  long  enough  for  them  to  be  considered  going  steady.    chrissy  carpenter  and  he  had  a  weird  on  and  off,  back  and  forth,  that  carried  him  through  his  four  years.     nothing  ever  happened  with  the  girl  glued  to  his  side,  besides  maybe  a   couple  of  drunken   fool  arounds   &   a  game  of  spin  the  bottle  at  the  future  mrs.  ted  wheeler’s  house.    it  would  be  too  late  before  he  realized  why  his  relationships  never  went  much  further  than  his  dad’s  (   and  later  his  own  )  car  and  he  would  watch  that  reason  waltz  into  the  senior  prom  on  the  arm  of  someone  else.      he  and  joy  didn’t  talk  much  after  that.   

VIETNAM    (   1960 - 1965  ): following  graduation,  jim  knew  there  was  one  thing  his  father  wanted  out  of  him  that  he  wouldn’t  be  able  to  avoid:   military  service  and  in  an  attempt  to  halfway  rebuild  a  relationship  he’d  let  crash  and  burn  during  his  teen  years,   he  takes  it  upon  himself  to volunteer  rather  than  wait  for  the  draft  that  would  inevitably  come.     just  like  his  father  and  grandfather  before  him,   jim  set  off  for  the  army  where  he  would  be  shipped  off  to  vietnam  and  begin  work  within  the  chemical  corp.  (  involved  in  operation  ranch hand  primarily  )     it  turned  out  to  be  a  lot  harder  on  him  than  he  imagined    ━   he  longed  for  the  hometown  he  claimed  to  hate  and  the  girl  who  he’d  left  without  so   much  as  a  goodbye   (   he  was  a  nice  guy  but  he  was  still  a  guy  )    he  kept  tabs  on  this  town  and  those  people  through  communications  with  his  mother.    he  never  really  talks  about  what  went  on   when  he  served,   he’d  rather  not  think  about  it  when  he  can  help  it  but  there  was  no  denying  that  jim  hopper  came  back  to  indiana  a  different  person.    a  boy  once  warm,  happy,   &  friendly  now  a  man  who  was  cold,  distant,   &   kept  to  himself.  

THE  RISE  &  FALL  OF  JIM  AND  DIANE  HOPPER  (   1965 - 1979  ): hopper  returned  home  to  hawkins  in  1965  following  his  stint  in  vietnam  and  upon  this  return,  he  meets  diane  summer.     new  in  town  because  he  would’ve  remembered  seeing  someone  like  her  around  before  he  left  .  .   .   he   began  to  let  her  melt  some  of  the  ice  that  had  settled  in  his  chest.   he  was  still  tied  to  the  military  for  a  little  while  longer  which  he  thinks  played  into  how  fast,  hot,   and  heavy  his  relationship  with  diane  was.    all  he  knew  is  eventually  he  wanted  to  get  out  of  hawkins  for  good  and  he  wanted  her  by  his  side.    in  1971,   the  couple  welcomed  a  daughter  who  gave  the  perfect  reason  for  the  family  to  make  their  move  to  new  york  shortly  after  the  two  wed  in  1972.    for  the  next  six  years,  jim  hopper  could  say  he  was  truly  happy.    he  had  his  wife,  his  daughter,   and  a  good  job  in  a  city  he’d  grown  to  love    ...   what  else  did  he  need  ?    as  if  on  cue  ,   in  1978  ,  the  picture  perfect  family  image  began  to  crumble  when  sara  fell  ill.       everything  jim  had  pushed  away  about  his  time  in  the  army  began  to  bubble  back  up  ,   every  fear  he’d  told  diane  about  following  finding  about  sara’s  conception,   every  bad  dream  returning  tenfold   and  sometimes  he  can  hear  sara’s  voice  calling  out  to  him.    they  say  if  a  marriage  can  survive  a  child’s  death  it  can  survive  anything  .   .  .   he  wasn’t  surprised  when  he  and  diane  didn’t  make  it  a  year  after  she  was  gone.      no  matter  how  times  she’d  said  it  wasn’t  his  fault  over  the  days  that  followed,   he  didn’t  believe  it.  how  could  it  not  be  ?   he  knew  what  he  had  done  in  vietnam  and  he  knew  the  risks  attached  to  what  they  were  doing  now  and  no  amount  of  chemotherapy  had  been  able  to  help  ..   towards  the  end  of  his  marriage  is  when  jim  started  using  valium  &  whiskey  to  keep  the  bad  thoughts  and  feelings  away     ━     some  nights  that’s  the  only  thing  that  would  help  him  sleep  it  wasn’t  long  until  his  nighttime  ritual  became  an  all  day  one.   

THE  PRODIGAL  SON  RETURNS  HOME   (  1979 - 1982  ): after  being  excused  from  the  nypd  and  his  marriage  now  officially  over,  new  york  had  nothing  left  to  offer  jim  hopper  and  he  went  back  to  the  one  place  he  knew  would  take  him:  hawkins,  indiana.  maybe  if  he  hadn’t  fought  so  hard  to  get  out  of  there  he  wouldn’t  be  back  there  now  but  who  else  would  take  in  a  childless  father  who  drank  liquor  like  water  and  popped  pills  like  candy  ?   long  gone  was  the  james  hopper  hawkins  knew  .   .   .   no  this  was  a  different  jim  hopper,   a   colder  one,   a  more  of  an  asshole  one,   one  who  ran  through  women  like  he  ran  through  packs  of  camels.   he  didn’t  think  he’d  ever  see  the  jim  hopper  he  used  to  be  again.

that  is  until  november  1983  when  he  rounded  the  corner  to  his  office  and  found  her  sitting  there.

[revenge-of-the-shit]

Writing Chinese characters set within Western worlds

If you don’t want to read it on tumblr, go check this out on medium or go follow me on instagram at @annessarose_writes!

Alright. You know what. I’ve seen plenty of stereotypes in fiction (and in social media) that are so incredibly pervasive I’ve seen many Chinese people within the western world internalize it themselves. So here’s a rough guide on writing Chinese characters in an English-speaking Western setting, written by me, a Chinese Canadian woman.

If you’re here to say something racist fuck off. Otherwise, welcome! This is not a comprehensive guide by any means. This is merely a brief overview based on my own experiences. My experience (as someone in North America) will differ from someone living in, say, Europe or South America. I’m not representative of every Chinese person because everyone’s experience is unique. So here were are.

1. Our names

Chinese names are usually written as follows: [family name] [name]. Let’s take a Canadian historical figure as an example: 黃寬先. In Chinese, it’s pronounced “Wong Foon Sien.” On Canadian documents — which are written [First name] [Last name], he’d be called “Foon Sien Wong.” He went by “Foon Sien” for most of his life. That’s his full “first name.” Nobody would call him Foon because that’s just half of his name (unless given permission). It’d be like meeting a stranger called Alex and calling them “Al” right off the bat. Sure, they could go by Al, but you don’t know that.

For those of us living in the Western world, some of us have both a Chinese name and an English name. In these cases, our Chinese name becomes our middle name in English (e.g. a character could be called John Heen-Gwong Lee).

For some people who immigrated to the Western world but were born in China, their legal name would be their Chinese name. Some choose to keep that name. Some choose an English name as their “preferred” name but keep their Chinese name on legal documents. It varies.

2. Parents & Stereotypes

There’s two stereotypes which are so pervasive I see it being used over and over in jokes even within Chinese (and, to a larger extent, asian) communities:

The [abusive] tiger mom and the meek/absent dad

Both parents are unreasonably strict/abusive and they suck

I have yet to see any fiction stories with Chinese parents where they’re depicted as kind/loving/supportive/understanding (if you have recommendations — please do send them my way). Not all Chinese parents are tiger parents. Chinese parents — like all parents — are human. Good god. YES, they’re human! YES, they have flaws! YES, they are influenced by the culture they grew up in!

That isn’t to say there aren’t parents like those tropes. There are. I know this because I grew up in a predominantly Chinese community where I had many a friend’s parent who was like this. Parents who compare their kids to the best kid in class. Parents who force kids into private lessons and competitions that the kid despises because the parents think it’s for the best. Parents who have literally called their kid a disappointment because they didn’t get 100%.

But please, also consider: there’s parents who support their child’s goals and who listen. Not all parents force their kid into the stereotypical trifecta of lawyer/doctor/engineer — I know of a good number who support their child in choosing the path they want. There’s parents who make mistakes and learn and try their best to support their child. So please, for the love of god, if you write a Chinese character, don’t reduce their parents to stereotypes.

3. Language & Learning

When I first read The Son of Neptune by Rick Riordan, I was so excited to see a Chinese Canadian character in Frank Zhang. Finally, there was someone like me. Finally, there was representation in well-known western media.

While I do appreciate that RR added in Frank Zhang, it’s pretty obvious that he didn’t really know how to write a Chinese Canadian character. One of the most glaring examples: in The Son of Neptune, Frank reveals he can’t really read Chinese. In like, the next book (I think — it’s been a while since I read it), Frank is suddenly able to read Chinese because he “learned” it in two week’s time.

Nope. Nuh-uh. Learning Chinese is a pain, let me tell you. There’s thousands of different characters and it is something you need to devote a lot of time to learning (especially if you’re progressed past the best childhood years for learning a language). So if you’re writing about a Chinese character living in the western world, here’s what you need to know:

A character who was born and raised in the western world does not necessarily know how to read/write in Chinese.

If they were raised by their own family, the character would very likely know how to speak their own dialect. They’d be able to understand the language used in movies/TV and they sound like a native speaker, but they may not know how to use language outside of certain contexts (the term for this is heritage speaker).

They probably went to Chinese school. They probably hated it. Chinese school is usually universally hated and does not teach you jack shit other than a hatred for the place and a vague memory of learning how to read the language without actually retaining knowledge of what you learned.

Most of my friends who know how to read/write in Chinese learned from tutors, parents, or were born in China.

There’s two main types of written Chinese: Traditional (used by Cantonese speakers) and Simplified (used by Mandarin speakers).

There are MANY other dialects (which I don’t know much about). The most common ones are Mandarin (usually spoken by people from the mainland), then Cantonese (usually spoken by people from Hong Kong).

4. Fitting into the community

Usually, the story is one of two things: they’re the only Asian kid in the entire school, or they grew up in a predominantly East Asian community. Things to consider for both of these when you’re writing:

Growing up the only Asian kid

They’re “that Asian kid.” They’re different. They walk into a class and feel weird and out of place.

They bring food from home (usually ethnic cuisine) to school. Other classmates stare at it, make fun of it, demand what that strange food is.

“Where are you from?” “Here.” “No, like, where are you really from?”

“Your name is funny.”

People literally never getting the character’s name right.

And that horrible, horrible feeling: wishing that they were white so they could avoid all of this.

Growing up in a predominantly East Asian community

It’s not uncommon for Chinese cuisine to mix with other east Asian cuisines. For special occasions (or just for a casual night out), your character could very well go out to get some sushi, or go for some KBBQ, or get some Vietnamese noodles.

Screaming “AIYAA” at/with their friends unironically if they’re annoyed (I’ve done this a lot with Cantonese friends. Less so with Mandarin friends).

Slipping into Chinese for like, two words, during a mostly-English conversation to talk about food or some other topic that can’t be adequately conveyed in English.

Reading books by white authors and learning about white history and growing up thinking white names, white books, and white history is the norm and standard even though the community is surrounded by East Asian people.

When the character leaves this community, there’s a brief culture shock when they realize how sheltered they’ve been.

Things in common for both of these:

The character has grown up on ethnic cuisine. Yes, Chinese people do eat rice with many of our meals. Yes, boba (bubble) tea is extremely popular. No, rice isn’t the only thing we eat. No, not all Chinese people love boba (though as a Chinese person I admit this sounds sacrilegious to say…)

The character likely grew up watching film/TVthat originates from East Asia. It’s not uncommon to watch Studio Ghibli films. It’s not uncommon to watch Japanese or Korean shows with canto/mando dub (examples: Ultraman, Kamen Rider). If you want to see a classic Chinese film from Hong Kong that’s fucking hilarious, watch Kung Fu Hustle.

The character has felt or been told that they’re “too westernized to be Chinese, but too Chinese to fit into the western world.” They’re torn between the two.

5. General portrayal

It’s quite simple, really. We’re human. We’re regular people. We have regular hobbies like all people do. We’re good at some subjects and bad at others. We have likes and dislikes like all people do. So here’s a list of stereotypes you can avoid.

STEREOTYPES TO AVOID BECAUSE WE’RE REGULAR HUMANS AND WE DON’T FIT INTO A SINGLE COOKIE CUTTER SHAPE, DAMMIT.

The character is a maths whiz and perfect at all things STEM.

The character is a straight-A+ gifted/IB/AP student.

The character is the next coming of Mozart and is amazing at piano/violin.

The character’s free time is spent only studying.

The character is insanely good at martial arts.

The character is either meek and submissive or an explosive, dangerous force.

I’m not going to mention the other stereotypes. You know, those ones. The really obvious ones that make fun of and demonize (sometimes through multiple untruths) how we look and how we live our lives. You should know.

Of course, there are people who fit into one or more of these. That’s not the point. The point is: molding all Chinese characters to these stereotypes (which white media tends to do) is harmful and reductionist. We’re more than stereotypes.

—

6. Conclusion

We need more diversity in portrayal of Chinese characters. Reducing us into one-dimensional caricatures has done nothing but harm us — look at what’s happening now. This guide is by no means comprehensive, but I hope it has helped you by providing a quick overview.

If you want to accurately portray Chinese characters, do your research. Read Chinese fiction. Watch Chinese films/TV. Initiate a conversation with the community. Portray us accurately. Quit turning us into caricatures.

[1kook]

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k 

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming. 

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education). 

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way. 

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms. 

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries. 

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable. 

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows. 

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.” 

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum. 

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close. 

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed. 

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin. 

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone. 

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress. 

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt. 

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite. 

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up. 

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks. 

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.  

It’s your turn to mope. 

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand. 

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses. 

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh. 

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels. 

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad. 

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“ 

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down. 

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome. 

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities. 

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about. 

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest. 

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover. 

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.” 

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee. 

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite. 

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now. 

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.” 

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold. 

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes. 

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon. 

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her. 

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown. 

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead. 

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear. 

It’s the hardest thing about parenting. 

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is. 

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show. 

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.” 

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years. 

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight. 

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now. 

A second later, “lemme join.” 

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick. 

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface 

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions. 

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit. 

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky. 

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home. 

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts. 

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now. 

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back. 

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice. 

Then, and apparently, now. 

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck. 

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together. 

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper. 

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt. 

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time. 

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips. 

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you. 

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long. 

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body. 

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him. 

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line. 

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could. 

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you. 

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist. 

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore? 

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.  

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?” 

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.  

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it. 

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you. 

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.  

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat. 

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt. 

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time. 

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.” 

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully. 

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole. 

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything. 

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure. 

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time. 

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone. 

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped. 

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas. 

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever. 

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling. 

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence. 

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out. 

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch. 

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach. 

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys. 

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever. 

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.  

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.” 

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.  

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer. 

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off. 

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again. 

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific. 

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position. 

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you. 

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds. 

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him. 

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt. 

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip. 

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh. 

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you. 

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace. 

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out. 

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you. 

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones. 

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year. 

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace. 

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—” 

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well. 

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway. 

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy. 

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news. 

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you. 

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[taecalikook]

(Not) Just Friends

summary : Befriending the fuckboy with devilishly handsome face and emotional capacity of a pea is not exactly your choice, especially when you met him when you were in fifth grade, attracted for the unhealthy vermillion shaded face of the nerd he was that fateful day. So is Jungkook, as he is already putting strictly platonic label on your forehead and calls it a day. But it is only a matter of time before everything changes, and it only takes a frat party, lots of booze and... a certain Kim Seokjin.

{friends to lovers! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (side kim seokjin)

genre : major fluff, a sprinkle of angst and borderline crack

word count : 24.612 (one-shot)

==============

“Hi, pumpkin! Is that for me?”

You were just sipping on your morning espresso, sitting in your favorite coffee shop while reading your favorite book of all time when the familiar annoying voice of your childhood best friend rang in your ear. You look up, finding the hateful smirk on his lips that you desperately want to strangle off of him, more for interrupting your sacred solitude morning routine—well not really solitude since you did promise him breakfast before class today. But as per usual, he just had to steal the glass you had in your grasps, sipping on the tasteful liquid while scrunching his eyebrows on your choice of reads.

“Isn’t it too early for The Great Gatsby in such a wonderful morning?”

“Isn’t it getting too old for you to keep drinking my coffee?” You bite back in the same bratty manner he displays. Jungkook chuckles, resting the cup back with a slight grimace. Probably because the coffee is tad too bitter for a sweet-crazed tooth like him. “You don’t even like espresso. I don’t even know why you always want a taste of my coffee.”

“Nah, I just want to mess with you fam.” He smirks, the bitterness still leaving a mark on his taste buds. Serve him right, you roll your eyes and try to center your attention back to your book. This idiot really knows no boundaries when it comes to you, you swear to God.

You and Jungkook have been best friends since both of you were kids. As cliché as it sounds, you met Jungkook when he was a total nerd in fifth grade of elementary school. He perfectly embraces the nerd stereotype at that time, thick ass glasses, braces, carrying books and his neon green nintendo nearly everywhere. You were not really interested in befriending the nerd, but when he got shamed by the cool girls for giving them chocolates for Valentine's Day—an expensive chocolate, for anyone keeping notes—you quickly stepped in when it seemed like it went overboard. 

Jungkook was bullied in the middle of the school yard with everyone to witness, for giving the girl he likes a chocolate on fucking Valentine’s Day. You noticed how ashamed he was—lips quivering, heads hanging low and the most distinctive feature is his cheek and ears, literally turning to the shade of vermillion. You did not know whether it is healthy for a face to be that red—you were terrified he might pass out—but yet those girls were still keen on mocking his sincere acts and his shy expression, not showing a sign to stop anytime soon.

Your consciousness literally forced you to step in, jumping on between them and literally yell at those girls. You forcefully stole the chocolate from one of the girls' grasp, eating them on the spot and shouted in irritation, “Done! I ate everything, so stop bullying him. You girls should be ashamed of yourself, he did nothing wrong!”

The imbecile girls were embarrassed, because their show was immediately stopped by an unpopular girl they never saw before in front of the whole school to see. One girl who seemed to be like the leader of the lunatic gang suddenly moved forward and pushed you until you fell on your back, and you know that was it. You seriously had been waiting to use your taekwondo skills for a better cause, and at that time, you saw the chance and took it whole-heartedly. You were not even using your full strength on her—you mostly used your defense technique when she was giving multiple amateur punches. You really lost everything when she grabbed your hair and pulled it hard (like most amateur girls would fight). The pain on your scalp hurt from the vicious pull, so you mildly used the front kick technique on her to push her away yet she easily fell down like a limp noodle, scraping her body with a small amount of the blood trickling out.

After the fight ensued and was broken off by one of the teachers, you and the crying girl were taken to the headmaster’s office. You were going to be punished severely, but fortunately some witnesses came to your rescue, you and the girl received punishment of detention for one month straight. Somehow, the spoiled annoying girl got out of the punishment with her parents persuasion, yet not really the same for your strict parents. They were furious for you to be punished for a physical fight in school that they directly cut you from your twice-a-week taekwondo classes you loved so much—thinking that it must be a bad influence for you. Not only that, you were also grounded and was forbidden to go out of the house for a month. You were devastated, but you know there was no way to change their minds, so you just sucked it up and promised to do your punishment well.

Day one of your punishment, you were sitting inside the detention class, the teacher was zooming off on the table with a documentary of Helen Keller played on the television. You were doodling on the back of your book in boredom. Suddenly, amongst the silence, a hush was heard in front of you, whispering your name. You shifted your head, finding the same boy directly on the table in front of you.You must absolutely did not expect it to be him—the nerd you saved from raging selfishness of the slow-minded girls.

“Hi... I got into detention to accompany you...” 

You inspected the boys with scrunched eyebrows in confusion. He somehow was still with the vermillion shade of red coloring his supple cheeks, just like last week when you were defending him. Is he... sick? He better be not, cause if he were, you were going to regret not setting the girl straight a little bit harder. The adamant despise towards injustice firing inside you was ignited by the lesson you always received from your taekwondo class, how you always must use your strength for goodness. Yes, you indeed will be missing going to Taekwondo classes. 

Realizing your mind had been anywhere but here, you straightened in your seat and tilted your head in confusion at the guy. “Are you okay? You look so… red.”

The boy quickly hid his cheeks with his palm, eyes not meeting yours out of shyness. It looked like he wanted the world to swallow him firsthand. “I—I’m sorry! I just have this weird physical habit of turning super red whenever I'm shy or angry..” He whispered, nibbling on his lips while still avoiding your eyes. “I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable..”

“Nope.” You answered with a loud pop on the last ‘p’, sending the boy a warm smile. “It doesn’t bother me in any way. You should not be ashamed of that. That’s cute.”

Well if you thought his face was already red, you could not imagine how more red it could turn into after you called him cute. Out of panic, you swiftly handed him the cold drinks sitting on your desk. “H—hey! You are too red, it is not possible. Put this on your face!”

After a few seconds he spent pushing the cold bottle to his face, you could finally see him breath again. You were unable to hold a smile looking at the boy, huffing his breath repeatedly to calm himself. You did sincerely find him cute, so different from the boys from your school who somehow really got on your nerves from constantly bragging about nearly everything. Their expensive belongings, their parent’s house, their ability to play sports, and it sickened you. Well you didn't really know the boy in front of you, but it seemed like he wasn’t the type to. You were prepared to drop him the second a cocky symptoms were found though, even if internally you wish he wouldn’t. You spared so much of your effort to take on the guy’s side, such a waste to do that on another thick-headed prick.

“I just realize I don’t know your name.” You suddenly thought to yourself after multiple times addressing him as ‘the nerd’ or ‘this boy’. He was just giving your drinks back to your desk, and then he shyly put out his hands to you.

“Hi.. My name is Jungkook. I am ten years old, and I came from Busan. I have one brother and one dog. My hobby is playing games and taking a bath! Nice to meet you!”

You really were going to burst into laughter, but then you detect the teacher was already woken up and shooting looks at the both of you for causing such a loud commotion. You bit your lips, holding any sound from coming out fervently, your eyes trained on your desk so you would be able to hold them back. Inside, you were glad that you saved this boy the other day. This boy was too pure and kind for his own good, and you were happy that you stood for him.

Well, that was all too long in the past, you nearly had a hard time remembering it. Now Jungkook has changed, 180 degrees from that cute, shy, vermillion shade faced boy you met in elementary school. After an agonizing ten years has passed, he went from a total innocent sweetheart, such a cutie to the annoying ass of a fuckboy jock he is today. What a shame to witness the degradation, you thought to yourself. But you did know when and where it went wrong—he was just too tired of being taken too much of an advantage by despicable people around him. The friend he befriended, his chemistry lab partner in middle school, his classmates and especially the girl he dated in high school. He hated it—he hated everything that happened to him when he was trying to be the nice guy for everyone. 

So in the last year of high school—after the bad breakup with the said girlfriend—he changed everything, nearly everything until it's even hard for you to recognize him sometimes. He swore off dating and romances, he went twelve hours per week to the gym and the school’s football team, attended parties days and nights before fucking random girls, and did the bare minimum in his education due to the shift of focus. But still even by then (actually, even until today), one and only person he would always listen to was you. 

When he failed one of his subjects in the last term of high school—and seemed completely unbothered by it, you were furious at him and refused to communicate in any way to him until he got his priorities straight. He tried contacting you, but you rejected at the first beep. He waited for you in front of your class but you quickly shove him with hurtful words his way, “You stop being yourself, Jungkook. I don’t even know you anymore.” and you meant every word. You missed your best friend, you missed his innocence and availability for you, and frankly, you also had enough of hearing about how charming he was, or how good he was in bed, talked in hush by your obnoxious girls in your classes. 

Few days later, you were already resting in your house while reading a book and listening to the droplets of the heavy rain knocking down on your roof, until a hesitant knock was heard on the door. You shuffled to open the door to find, was expecting your brother coming home from college, but instead found Jungkook, drenched in front of your porch with the remedial sheet on his hand—written that he passed the said subject with flying colors. You were surprised that he even got the chance to fix his grade, but after telling you he needed to do a fifty page review of the economic systems around the world to even got the chance to remedial test, you did realize how much he put an effort to pass a subject he didn’t even like. Somehow, it resulted in more happiness on you than you thought it would be. You couldn’t deny you were already contemplating whether you were too harsh or nosy on him, or he would just drop you the second you push him away. You were on the edge, imagining that you would lose a best friend because of your annoying attitude and peskiness. But he came through.

After welcoming Jungkook to take a bath and wear your brother’s clothes, you offered him a glass of hot chocolate, his favorite drink. But you noticed that he was still pouting, so you questioned it. “I am thankful that you knocked some sense into me, but Y/N, don’t ever ignore me like that again…” Jungkook’s pout turned deeper, his knuckles pushing your forehead in annoyance. 

“You are the last person who I ever wanted to turn against me.” He whispered after seconds of silence of just staring at each other, eyes turning gleam that knocked some guilt inside your chest. You nodded silently, promising that you would not do that kind of antics again.

You remember that day like the back of your hand—after a long time, you see how vermillion-shaded his face has returned after telling you how thankful he was for your presence as his best friend during the past ten years, and your straight-up attitude that set him straight during his weak times. He cried that day, telling you how hard everything was for him. Behind those strong facade and muscle, you realized he was still the innocent, vulnerable nerd with a vermillion-shaded face you met ten years ago. You missed those innocence he finally displayed, and it brought you back to times when it was just you and him against the world. 

Even after that day Jungkook still continues all his fuckboy ways, and until now after both of you went to the same university. He is taking an industrial engineering major while you were doing your life-long dream of taking political science, both of your faculties are located near each other. Jungkook was still being the same Jungkook he was, he joined the football team and brother frat in college, filled with dumb rich jocks who held parties nearly twice a week. After getting few drinks in the party, he would fall into meaningless sex with the girl he just knew before. Not that you mind, you have been way too accustomed in having such a best friend and it doesn’t even bother you anymore.

But still, you were confused how Jungkook is able to maintain his life together—his studies, his jock practices and his fuckboy activities in parallel. You have no objection at all for his life choices—since he never leaves you out and schedules a breakfast or lunch minimal twice per week with you to update you on what he was doing with his life and likewise. Not even counting the times he would get you from your apartment if you have the same morning class like today. By what you hear from him, it really seems like he is holding up just well. Good for him.

“Hey, stop ignoring me, you ugly ass hoe!”

You wake up from your long flashbacks, since you notice that you have been zooming out for quite a while now. You clear your throat, sipping on the coffee that has turned cold, sending apologies for not paying attention to him. “Sorry. I was distracted. You were saying?”

Jungkook frowns, his eyes squinted on you, and you know what he was doing. He was trying to diagnose your silence. You roll your eyes at his nosy acts. “Stop looking at me like that! I said I was sorry, Jungkook. Now tell me what’s bothering you. This girl you fucked with before, did she still try to contact you again?”

“I wasn’t telling you about that!” Jungkook raises his voice, his face slightly reddening out of shyness for you mentioning his bad experience on one of his one night stands. Looking at him, you are reminded about the vermillion-faced Jungkook you met in elementary school. Oh how you miss those reddening supple cheeks of his. “I was telling you if you are going to Hoseok’s birthday party this weekend. It’s gonna be lit, I swear! He is holding it in his fancy ass house with a pool and whatever.” You snort, your eyes trailing back on your books even if you are not reading at all. You just want to ignore him, implicitly telling how silly his invitation was. Parties are never your forte, you feel mildly uncomfortable in such a short distance with tons of strangers. You’d rather reread this book you are holding for the nth time already, you swear.

“Y/N, you could even meet boys there, I know how saintly you have been living lately. Live a little, pumpkin! I swear you’ll enjoy it there.” Still you don’t budge on him.

“Kim Seokjin is gonna be there, though. You sure you won’t come?”

Listening to his name, your ears perk up, eyes slightly glancing up to him. Seokjin is one of Jungkook’s frat brothers, a final year who surely does not share the same ugly traits of the other brother. He is smart, ambitious in his study, and is also the head of the Taekwondo university club. Your deep interest in Taekwondo has driven you to see him in multiple universities and external competitions, and you cannot bear yourself but to swoon over him and his rightful acts. Even if you surely do not have the courage to directly introduce yourself to him, you have been thinking a lot about joining the club with pure—well not really pure motivation. You are also unable to emphasize more that he is really one of the kindest souls out there. He is known as very helpful to everyone, joining as a volunteer in various social and environmental movements. You also heard that he had a serious relationship for five years, in which they had to break up a year ago because the girl had to move to America to pursue her study and decide to break up with him. What a doofus.

You notice the cocky, winning triumph on Jungkook’s face realizing how affected you are by the name, but you’ll set aside your will to erase the annoying smirk off of his face just to get more information out of him. “Continue.”

“He is best friends with Hoseok. I know he is not really a party type—you probably know that better than I do—but this one's for his friend's birthday party. He’ll come.” Jungkook says, munching on the served american breakfast in front of him. “You can finally meet him, probably say hi and then bone him while you’re at it. You get me?” Jungkook wickedly smiles, eyebrows dancing on his temple and you roll your eyes in response. You have such an obnoxious dickhead as a friend, and whose fault is it? Yours, of course.

“I hate you so much, Jungkook. Do you know that?” You gave him a cynical smile, and he returned it with the same bland taste, biting on the last piece of bacon. 

“Can.. Can I bring Lia too?” You hesitantly asked, biting on your lips. Jungkook’s chewing movement is slowing, an uncomfortable silence ensues.

Lia is your apartment roommate, a cute girl with the same major as yours. Short height, big round eyes and straight hair are her noticeable features, and what troubles Jungkook for Lia’s presence in your discussions, is her uncanny resemblance to his high school ex girlfriend. Her similar name, her looks, her height, her choice of outfit and nearly everything, reminded him of the girl he has been trying to forget. You were surprised while meeting her too at first, but you did not realize how the resemblance would bother Jungkook that much. Well probably, Jungkook was still trying to forget about her—hell, this whole new persona of his was founded by his heartbreak towards the bitter-ended relationship.

You remember how head over heels was Jungkook towards his ex-girlfriend. Whenever he is around her, or just thinking about her when she was brought up in your discussions, Jungkook would again turn vermillion in shyness for his adoration of the girl. He would waste hours, with all his power and wealth to make the girl happy—without telling you at that time about how much he spent for her, since he knew how fervently you would react to that—and content with the relationship they both shared. But none could prepare him for the inevitable break up, Jungkook found the girl was cheating on him with another older guy, in which he found out who was her source of income too. Jungkook was devastated, heartbroken and that's the turning point when he swore off romances and relationships at all cost. You tried your best in helping him mend the broken pieces caused by the vicious witch of an ex-girlfriend, but you know none of it was the same ever again. What you could and promise to do is to be there for your best friend, at all times.

“It’s—it’s okay. I think I am just overreacting over all of this. I swear.” He sighs, sounding a little bit tired of everything and putting the utensils on his plate. You lean closer, waiting for the continuation of his spoken mind. “I am so fucked up, Y/N. Like, there are so many things that keep reminding me of her. You know how evil she is, and everything she did to me—but I still find myself missing her so much it’s crazy. It’s been nearly two years, but I still think about her—a lot. The girl I was with last night. The girl I met at a party two weeks ago. Your roommate—gosh, i’m so tired.” He sadly groans, hiding his face behind his palm. Oh, how you wish to take away some of the pain he feels.

“I think.. I think you just need to stop pushing it away, Jungkook..” You softly speak, your palm caressing his shoulder to his arm in sympathy. Jungkook let out another sigh, resting his palm over yours, eyes filled with frustration over himself.  “I think the more you are trying to stop thinking about her, the less you are able to overcome it. Just let it go. Confront it. Confront everything that reminds you of her, and tell yourself that you are slowly but surely overcoming the hunch.”

Jungkook silently nods for a while zooming out to the street, until at one point he slowly squints his eyes on you, full of suspicion. You choose to look away, trying to be nonchalant of his suspecting gaze.

“You just want me to allow your friend to go to the party so you will have a companion to meet Seokjin, right?”

Well, you should know you are going to be caught red-handed, but it should not this fast, though. Are you that obvious or it’s just another episode of Jungkook knowing you better than you do? “You know how much I need to meet him, Jungkook! You are my friend, you should help me with this. I need her as my support.” You defend yourself, arms folded in front of your chest in agitation. You are desperately in need of  Lia there, so at least when you embarrass yourself in front of a cheering crowd—or worst, Seokjin himself—you will have support that helps you get into that taxi and drive yourself to the nearest cliff. You won’t even expect Jungkook to be  there for you, he must be off somewhere fucking bimbos and that’s just how less you expect of him.

“Hey, I can be your wingman to score him too! Are you kidding me? I am his kind, I know how to get you to him better than that friend of yours.” Jungkook scrunch his nose in distaste of your doubts about him. You scoff loudly, pushing your cold coffee away so you or Jungkook’s slob trait will not nudge or drop it to pieces mid argument. That surely happened before, and you do not want another dirty look thrown by the waitress at the both of you for causing troubles, yet again.

“Stop kidding me. First, you are not his kind. He is not a fuckboy. And what would happen if I go there with you are first, you missing at twenty minutes mark and off fucking some girl on the upstair bedroom or even worse, in the restroom and I’ll just be foolishly standing in the corner like fucking nerd who miss her literature club meeting with expectation to meet a cute, faithful guy in some dumb frat parties, fell in love and get married to happily ever after. Or second, you ignore the girls thirsting over you to accompany me and just an hour, you off to get a drink and those dumb girls will kidnap me and feed me to the lion. I don’t see any positive scenario over you, accompanying me to the party. No thanks.”

Jungkook is surely bewildered over the scenario you just play out to him. You take a deep breath, realize you have been spitting out so many words in such a short span of time. You are quite proud of that talent, though.

“That’s… strangely detailed.”

You roll your eyes, looking at the watch on your wrist. Only ten minutes left and both of you need to run to the first class.  “We need to get going now. Let’s go, you dumb jock.”

Jungkook sighs, following your step, resting a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn paying now. Let’s go.”

*

“Are you sure you want to wear that?”

Listening to Lia’s queries for the nth time, you sigh and go inside the bathroom to change into your comfy house clothes. You have been trying to find the perfect dress that is the perfect balance of classy and slutty since three hours ago—exactly right after you ran home from your afternoon class. But yet it seems like no dress is right, one makes you look too slutty, or another which makes you like a freaking nun amongst the girl in the party, or another one which make your butt looks massive or one that is too tight you know you can’t even breathe if you wear that to the party. And who are you even kidding? You are putting too much effort for a party that most likely will not even realize you are there. You know that you are not that excessively pretty like some girls that hangout with Seokjin and Jungkook’s frat—yes, you are not far on the other side either, but it’s still a valid point.

“I’m done. I’m just wearing anything to the party and if Seokjin can’t see me, he can kiss my ass. Probably gonna die alone anyway, why do I even try...” Your groan was muffled to the pile of clothes on your bed. Lia hisses at your sudden discouragement, she wakes up and launches a slap on your butt.

“Nuh-uh! You know how important this is to you, Y/N. You gotta try, or you’ll regret it forever!” Lia shakes you again, but you are still groaning against the clothes. Seeing how long this may drag and you still haven’t even done your hair, she has no choice but to drag you from bed until you are thrown on the floor with a loud bump.

“Ah! It hurts!”

“I know it hurts but you’ll be thanking me in the next five years when you are married to Seokjin and pregnant with his third kid.” 

“Now that’s just forward. And delusional. Seokjin is married to me? Seriously, like he even wants to deal with such a mess.” You pout while rubbing on your hurting elbow due to the unexpected fall. Even with such a small frame Lia cages animalistic power it’s unbelievable. “And I don’t even want to get married that fast! I still need to open my restaurant, I haven’t even met Liam Neeson, travel the world—”

“Wait-wait, hold on. Why Liam Neeson?”

“Because he is hot. Like real hot. Have you seen Narnia? That is one god-carved voice, damn! How I wish I could have a man with a voice like Liam. In Taken! He is so hot and protective and do you know that in Star Wars—”

Lia quickly shuts you by throwing a glittery dress to your face, disgust coloring her face. “That’s just borderline daddy kink and I hope you are well aware you are fucking weird.”

You grimace. “No argument here.”

*

9pm, and both you and Lia finally arrive at the large mansion which you recognize must be Hoseok’s. You check the text Jungkook sent this morning about the location’s address once again, quickly scrambling out of the car after muttering thanks to the driver to enter the huge, fancy house. Lia holds you by the waist, giving it a short squeeze of support seeing how jittery you have become since the taxi arrived. “It’s okay. You look beautiful, and Seokjin will be crazy not to see you.”

“Thanks.” You huff a breath, trying to muster a little bit confidence in your steps. It is half-working, you have to admit. 

It’s still early, yet the party is crazy enough you can’t even believe it. Every corner is busy with their own games and activities, the bass blaring in your ear until you’re this close to temporary deafness, and the outside of the house is a large outdoor pool with people laughing and girls with hot bod and bikinis. Just the perfect recipe of the best night everyone will regret—or maybe it’s just you.

You already had your fair share of parties, and you have to admit that it’s not your thing. The free booze, though? Tempting. You are trying to look at the better side of the whole ordeal. Even if you fall short and embarrass yourself in front of your crush, you get the eternal consolation of booze to help you kick the shame away. Nothing screams adult like pushing your problem away with the help of alcohol, right?

You check yourself against the reflection on the nearest mirror to you, restlessness creeping inside your head. Damn, you seriously are just a sack of old potatoes compared to these girls in clad dress and high stilettos which will surely be able to stab and kill someone. You should just pack it up and go home, really.

“Hey! I know that face, Y/N. No! We are not backing down. I did not just spend five hours of your whiny ass complaining what to wear for you to be this defeated without even trying!” Lia quickly pushes you away when you are about to run out the door for your life. You frown, ready to let out some whiny complaints when she pushes your unknowing ass away, right into someone’s arm.

From the countless people inside the freaking party you just had to fall to Seokjin’s arm. God must be joking. 

Looking straight into his beautiful, sparkling eyes, it seems like your mind is completely wiped like new, and you have the trouble of speaking your mind. His warm arms are around your shoulder, keeping you stable on your feet and this might be the nearest you have been to the taste of death.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I think you fell and I just caught you...” Seokjin smiles politely, eyes crinkled into a smile and you are still in the midst of inner conflict of speaking out anything. Out of realization how annoying your act must have been to him, you jumped feets away, desperate to keep a distance. You are really this close to running away, but do not want to be perceived like a total moron especially to him, so you let out a thin, nervous smile. 

“T—thank you for catching me.” You breathily murmur, feeling shy. How can someone not be? God, is he beautiful. His fluffy hair is styled nicely, he is wearing such a simple attire, a blue loose shirt and black denim but damn did he wear it like nobody’s business.

“No problem.” He lightly shakes his head, but a sudden realization comes to his mind as he inches closer to you, eyebrows scrunched together in question. You unconsciously lean further away from him, heart drumming fast in your chest. “I think I’ve seen you before. In my Taekwondo’s match. Right?!”

Never in a million years have you thought that Seokjin might notice—and even remember your face amongst the large crowd, watching him in his battles for your college’s team. You are always hidden, and as plain as ever whenever you watch him from the bleachers, and would run away the second whistle blows signaling the end of the competition. But now he told you he recognizes you?! Gosh, what are the odds. You have never felt so shameful and concious of your own skin before.

“Um… Yes! But you have nothing to worry, I’m not a stalker or anything, I just really like taekwondo and I like watching you—I mean the team!” You shyly correct yourself, internally punishing yourself for the accidental slip. You are such a humiliation and frankly, still too sober for this. What will you trade to forget the encounter never happened and drown yourself in booze in every form—drinks, beer, jelly shots, whatever.

“No! Of course not.” He chuckles, amused like he is really content to see you, nonchalant to how uncomfortable you are with your skin right now. You feel like a doofus, making a fool of yourself. “I really want to talk to you every time a match is finished, but you always bolt away after, I don’t have the chance to.” Then he dare to fucking winks. “But I’m glad we can finally meet here.” 

You are too confused with every act and word coming out of his mouth—did he just flirt with you?—so your reply is simple, and desperate. “Wow. Sorry, I seriously need a drink right now. Can you hold that thought?”

Seokjin chuckles and nods, his palm hovers over your back, guiding you. “I’ll come with you.” You don’t really know why he has to follow just for you to shortly grab a drink, and then he points to his empty glass. You nod knowingly, trying to focus on the booze bar you are heading to. The bar is crazy extravagant for a frat party, with the bartender pouring mixed drinks on the side. You silently gasp. Damn, Hoseok is really that rich, huh?

He continues with a cheeky smile. “I have been looking forward to talking to you since forever, and you just bolted out. Is it wrong of me to be scared you are going to pull the same trick again?”

Wow, you don’t even know what he means by that, so you let out a nervous chuckle as an answer. It is like you are back to third grade, having your first crush giving you hope by his words and you are busy configuring and overthinking everything like fucking detective conan. But you refuse to get your hopes up, your brain desperately screaming to fill your glass with your favorite whiskey. You offer him the bottle, and he smirks and receives it while purposefully brushing your hand in the process. Fuck Kim Seokjin. What happen to such a polite boy you heard so much about?!

“So, are you going to tell me about yourself?” He smiles, and your finger fidgets in nerve, quickly taking a whole gulp of the alcoholic drink, praying it to quickly intoxicate your mind so you can speak clearly in front of such handsome face. Well, for one booze is the best recipe for you during these times.

“I don’t know what you want to know about me, Seokjin. I’m just an ordinary freshman.” You smile, your teeth grazing your lower lips. But one thing you notice is that Seokjin is silent, his eyes following the movement of your bitten lips like he is completely bothered by it.

“Do you like taekwondo? I see you a lot in the match.” He starts with a simple question, while taking a large portion of his drink down his throat and ending it with a sigh. “When you were watching, you looked like you knew your stuff. It’s TMI, but I can’t help but to find it’s totally, totally hot.”

“So you are watching me watching people during a Taekwondo match?” You bravely shoot, and Seokjin let out a chuckle. You do not know what has gotten on him—or you, even at that point. What you know is that you feel your head is light, but your body is hot and bothered by just looking at him. Seokjin just literally flirts on you and all you wanna do is to jump on him and quench the thirst rubbing in the middle of your thigh.

At the time, you notice that Seokjin is bluntly staring at your lips, his eyes turned dark and heavy with lust, and his face literally inching closer and closer to you. You lick your lips, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. Is it really going to happen? Seokjin somehow, against all odds, finds you hot and that's it—you’re going to kiss him like that? Just how many years of luck do you have to sacrifice for this?

“Seokjin! Here you are. Hoseok is looking for you.”

The strange sexual tension that filled the air between you and Seokjin with your lips just inches away from each other is broken by the dumbest fuck of a best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Seokjin immediately flinches, moving away and you instinctively turn your head, your hands scratching your nape out of shyness. You swear you are going to kill your best friend after this. How dare he interrupt the moment you have been dreaming for such a long time now?!

“Thanks for that, man.” Seokjin hisses, his words dripping with sarcasm and annoyance of your interrupted session. He turns his regretful eyes to you, hands resting on your shoulder, sliding to your wrist affectionately. You do not know whether it’s just you, but your body feels like it is set on fire with his light , feathery touches. He suddenly grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’ll find you later, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

You shyly nod, and Seokjin turns his back on both of you and walks further away to the other side of the gigantic house. After his disappearance, you quickly land a hard punch on Jungkook’s arm in agitation.

“You are fucking idiot and I hate you! How dare you interrupt us like that?! We were just about to kiss, you moron!”

Jungkook frowns, rubbing on the spot you just hit. “Hey! I am doing this for your own good. You are certainly going to regret kissing that guy! He is not that good, you’re better off without him.”

You hisses at his lackluster explanation. “I don’t know what crack you are sniffing, Jeon, but you just told me yesterday to attend this party and bone him. And now you’re pulling this shit?!” 

“I know! But I just don’t like it with him. I feel like he’s up to something.” You sigh after listening to his nonsense. Seriously, you can’t believe it. The first time you ever try to flirt and kiss someone you just met, and get a response—from Kim Seokjin, more to emphasize—at a party has to be interrupted by your fuckboy best friend. You have overestimated your luck.

At your sudden silence, Jungkook takes the time to raise his gaze and take in your appearance from head to toe. You are wearing your black sleeveless bodycon dress, the one you once drunkenly bought a year ago and always have been placed on the back of your closet. You compliment your dress with a pair of red heels, fresh from Lia’s closet. Your wavy hair is styled nicely, tied up that exhibits your neck line to the slightest of your collarbone. Your makeup is rather simple, but the red lips is just the perfect end-touch to your appearance today. You are simply beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like that, you hobo?” You snort when feeling Jungkook’s gaze is too intimidating around your body—you fold your arms protectively on your chest. At your mocking question, Jungkook quickly throws his head somewhere else, sniffling his itchy nose. He seriously needs to catch himself before he erupts and makes a fool out of himself. But one he somehow forgets is that his body is way, way more truthful in speaking his mind than he really is. 

“Hey! How was it? Have you scored Seokjin yet?”

On your side, Lia shuffles with a bottle of beer and a knowing smirk. You sigh, shaking your head mournfully. Your wingman nearly yells.

“Why?! I voluntarily shove you too, back then! I saw you guys are chilling together so I decided to grab something for a sec and now you’re telling me he’s gone and you both did nothing?!”

To answer her question, you just vehemently point Jungkook. “This asshole decided to ruin everything. Just when it is about to happen, Lia! His lips were this close.” You mourn your lost chance, mimicking his lips hovering over yours. Jungkook quickly pushes your hand away from your lips with annoyance, eyebrows scrunched together in disgust. 

“You are creepy, and I am doing this for the sake of my frat brother. He is better off with someone else.” He pouts, his face looking severely annoyed and red. But it’s not just any kind of red. It’s vermillion, just the way you remember it from your elementary school, along with the childish pout on his lips. Ignoring your previous anger at him, you scrutinize his face closely and shift his face side by side with your palm, and he looks completely flustered. What in god’s name is happening?

“Hey, why are you so red, Jungkook? Are you okay?”

At the sudden attention thrown at him, Jungkook’s face just becomes even redder—if it is even possible. Realizing that he is in a very unfortunate situation at the moment, Jungkook quickly racks his brain for any reason to avoid your pesky questions. “I—I just think it’s too hot in here. Don’t you think so?”

“There’s literally four air conditioners in this room, Jungkook. It’s freezing cold in this place. Who the fuck has four ac in just a living room anyway? Damn you, capitalism!” You hissed, unamused with his lies. Jungkook grins, realizing how idiotic he must have sounded. At your last statement, you are suddenly self-conscious about the coldness in the room, rubbing your bare arms to create friction and warmth. He quickly notices your subtle gesture.

“Are you cold? Here, use my jacket.” Jungkook instinctively offers, not even waiting for your answer and unattaching the fabric of his body. At the kind gesture, you are touched as he seems to always understand you without you even need to say a thing. But when you see he is just wearing a body-fit black shirt underneath the denim jacket he was wearing—clearly, that jacket is going to go either way—you immediately snort. That bitch is just asking for an opportunity to flex the unnecessary muscle in front of the girls there, no need for you to feel flattered whatsoever.

“God, you’re both so fuckin domestic and boring. I’m off finding fun somewhere else, don’t wait for me~” Lia coos, walking to the other side of the house along with her bottle of beer. Well, Lia basically knows her ways in and out of frat parties, so you are not worried for her. If somehow Seokjin does not find his way back in thirty minutes, you promise yourself to hitch an uber as fast as you can and bolt out of that shitshow without making a scene. 

As the girl who somehow looks exactly like his ex exits their space, Jungkook reverts his focus back on you. You are busy looking anywhere else but him, your lips clamp on the glass to sip on the beverage. “Aren’t you tired with those heels? Let’s sit somewhere else.” He offers lowly.

You comply either way, somehow feeling a little bit suspicious over Jungkook’s sudden calm demeanor. You know him and how he is at parties. He should not be with you right now, instead joining his dumb jock friends and the girls at the other side playing body shots. This is borderline weird—you don’t want to interrupt him during his fuckboy activities, now both you and Jungkook are seated on the sofa in the corner of the room. 

“Are you okay, Jungkook? You are suspiciously silent.”

Jungkook clears his throat again, but all of a sudden loses all remaining composure when your finger delightfully skims his cheek. “And your face is red. There must be something wrong. The last time I saw you like this was—”

Jungkook knows what you are about to say but decided not to. He decided to ignore your suddenly awkward gesture and answers. “It’s not that, I—I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

You suddenly scoop his fingers and squeeze it lightly. “Is it because I am here? I swear Jungkook, you don’t have to accompany me. I’m perfectly fine on my own, you know it.”

“I want to accompany you.” Jungkook denies, not knowing how to speak his mind in any other way. His gaze is filled with unexpected sincerity, you don’t really know how and why. “I attend these parties, meet these people nearly everyday, Y/N. But they don’t have what we have. And now that you here, of course I would rather be with you.”

You don’t know whether it is the alcohol in your spine or the bass thumping likely on your heart, but you clearly feel something about the words. You feel important. You feel needed. And the way Jungkook looks at you right now? You feel like it’s somehow filled with new, raw emotions you never found on him before. The way his fingers are clasped on you—it’s like he is holding it for dear life. You can not deny that you are mildly confused by the sudden tension between you and Jungkook.

“Here you are, Y/N. I’ve been searching for you.” 

Seokjin is now standing in front of you and Jungkook, his eyes silently trailing on the fingers intertwined with you and your best friend, but refusing to comment. Realizing how awkward the moment must have been for the three of you, you swiftly jump on your feet, cheeks slightly reddening out of shyness while Seokjin still maintains the charming smile on his lips. “Can I take you somewhere else? This party is too loud. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“Mmm.. Okay.” You mutter, trying your best not to glance at Jungkook. You want to avoid adding more fuel to the awkwardness—well, you are too emotionally incapable to face whatever emotion you were having with Jungkook just now. He is just a thoughtful best friend, why are you even dwelling on it like it’s something new in your friendship? And being the coward you truly are, you answer the offer of Seokjin’s hand, following him to the outside without glancing even once at Jungkook. Even if all you can think about is him and what the hell just happened.

*

It’s been nearly two weeks, but you have yet to receive any message, or call, or anything from Jungkook. It’s not his fault, though—you could have started a conversation yourself, but you always find yourself hesitating while typing words on your screen. Maybe it’s because Jungkook has mostly been the one to start any conversation, and now nearly two weeks has passed since your last encounter and you have no idea how to start. Idiot.

You are still lounging in your bed, mustering yourself to be brave enough to say anything to Jungkook. When suddenly a message arrives, you are startled, swiftly clicking it open. But seeing the sender, you sigh in disappointment. It’s not Jungkook.

From : Seokjin

Hey, you are coming to the practice, right? [12:40]

Do you want to grab a bite after that? I have this coupon I need to use:) [12:41]

Ah, Seokjin. Since that fateful night in the party, you have been frequently hanging out with him. He is a senior in your department—he is even the assistant for some of your classes—so you do meet frequently. It is weird now that you are acquainted with him, he is everywhere, like literally everywhere. Especially because after that night, he asks you to join the taekwondo club based on your interest and previous experience. And who are you to reject? You like Taekwondo, and you like him. Talking about killing two birds with one stone, right?

But now you feel on the edge nearly all the time because your fuckboy best friend is missing in action. You want to tell him everything, but you feel like you have sinned him greatly for ditching him that night. It’s even hard to find out why! All you know that he might just find another girl to fuck with that night, and both of you know that the only thing in first that invite you to the party is because Seokjin is there—even Jungkook propose you to bone him! You seriously hate yourself for feeling this way.

“Jungkook, you are a complete moron!” You hiss, throw the phone to the desk and dip your face to the pillow.

Okay, new plan. It’s better for you to just meet and confront him directly. So tomorrow after class, you are going to meet him after his 8am, and just point and blame him for ghosting your friendship. Well, he is not ghosting, but that’s not the point! It’s a brilliant plan, yet you find yourself strangely terrified for what is about to happen.

*

Tomorrow morning, you are going to ask Lia to walk to class together, yet you find she is already missing, bed is made and cleaned. It’s weird to see her wake up so early since she is absolutely not a morning person, but you shrug it anyway, expecting to see her in class. Still, even after the professor arrives, you find her regular place beside you is empty. You send her a message, but it is met with no reply. Skipping class is not really rare in her case, so you just silently attend, mind filled with the plan you will execute later on.

After class, as previously planned, you directly head to Jungkook’s faculty. You can remember it vividly, Jungkook’s class for the morning is always running late due to his old as hell professor, who talks extremely slowly and loves to discuss anything but the topic he is supposed to teach, hence your plan. You are going to wait in front of his class, supposedly asking to grab brunch together before accusing him for ignoring you altogether.

But then, what you find while walking on the bridge connecting the two faculties catch you by surprise. It is Lia, talking to a man who's back you easily identify as Jungkook—you can detect those small waist everywhere, hidden cladly in a slim fit dress shirt. Both of them are engaged in serious talk, with Jungkook’s face a little bit tense and Lia’s face looking like she completely had enough.

Lia? And Jungkook? Your eyes must be deceiving you right now.

With all will, you march onto them, and even the fact that they are talking, just the two of them without you is weird enough, they don’t even realize your presence until you are tapping on Jungkook’s shoulder with a suspecting gaze. The moment he finds you, he unconsciously jumps a few steps back with a loud gasp, exactly like whenever he has been caught doing something bad. “Y/N! You’re here!”

“Yes. I was just about to catch you after your class, Jungkook, maybe we can grab a bite together.” The moment you let out those words, you heard Lia snickers and Jungkook immediately throws her a look. 

“Finally. You both should eat together! and I don’t know—maybe be truthful at each other? or anything, I don’t care. I’m out of here.” She walks out, not minding your voice calling out to her. You seriously have zero idea what she means, but Jungkook quickly places his hands on both your shoulders—desperate for your focus, his cheeks now colored in bright shade of red.

“Don’t mind her. Let’s go eat.”

You stop your track against Jungkook’s force of pulling you away, scrutinizing his face closer with a worried gaze. “Jungkook, you are acting weird. And you are sooo red. Are you sure you are okay?”

Jungkook hastily nods, pulling you to the place you both usually grab coffee at, not really far from his faculty. On the way, both of you still fall in silence, and one thing your eyes could focus on is his fingers, tightly intertwined on yours—the same gesture he has been doing for around ten years now. 

Is it weird that now you definitely do not feel nothing from just holding his hands?

*

Both of you are seated on your usual spot—near the window inside the coffee shop, right after ordering. “So. Are you going to tell me where you have been these past two weeks?” You questions, sipping on your usual choice of espresso. Jungkook grimaces, his fingers clasping against each other nervously. Not that he expects you to beat around the bush.

“I am just kinda busy. With practice and studying.” He silently answers, eyes still not looking anywhere else but you. And what kind of best friend are you not to notice that?

You nod cryptically, decide against pushing it.  Even though skeptic, what he said does seems plausible. “So, what’s up?’

“Just the regular.”

Your left eyebrows raise. “No news on your fuckboy conquest of one night stands?”

Jungkook eyebrows scrunched. “You’re disgusting.”

You are baffled at that. “What?! I am disgusting? Jungkook, you have been explicitly telling me stories about these girls you sleep with for already two years now. What are you, playing coy?“

Jungkook sighs tiredly. Instead of answering, he reaches for your glass of espresso, sipping it before wincing due to the bitterness—like a fucking moron doing his usual thing. It seems already too familiar, so you just shrug it and focus on the initial topic instead. “I just… I haven’t been sleeping with anyone these past two weeks, okay?”

You send him a cryptic look, and Jungkook complains in frustration. “I am not lying! I am not an animal, okay? I am tired sometimes, and I am allowed to not do that anymore.”

“Jungkook, there is no way you are not going to parties and not sleeping with these girls. You have been doing these for two years. What gives?” You push, as you know there must be something he is hiding from you. Jungkook sighs, looking at you with a gaze filled with strange emotions.

“I—I haven’t been to parties too. Look, I am just not feeling it, okay? I just.. I just needed a break.”

Looking at Jungkook, it is difficult to even imagine him not doing all his usual popular jock activities. And now he told you he hasn’t been to parties for two weeks? It’s really unlike him. He hasn’t missed a single party for these past two years since high school to the point you have a hard time remembering what he used to do on Friday nights. Something must have happened, that’s for certain.

“Do you want to tell me why?” You ask him carefully, your fingers reaching out to his. He looks up at you, something in his face tells you that something indeed has happened. And suddenly, your mind flashes to the event that just occurred. Could it be?

“Does it have anything to do with Lia? This morning, when you met her?”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge, his hands are harshly pulled to his lap, away from you. You can detect his chest pumped, heaving too much air in, eyes nervously scanning away. Too many reactions for a mere ‘nothing happened’. “I—I don’t know? What do you mean?”

“It’s weird! You were literally avoiding her before, Jungkook. But then I saw you meeting her alone. What happened? Tell me.” You persuade, determine to get to the end of it. But the answer you are given is only a nervous shake of head, with shade of red slowly creeping in his face. Another trait that you know from Jungkook, is his inability to hide his feelings—at least in front of you.

Due to his prolonged silence for his orders arrival, you silently guess what might have happened with him. A flash of unpleasant image enters your head and you wince internally. God, please don’t let it be true. You even have a hard time to spell those words. 

“Jungkook, please tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

Jungkook’s face is flushed in a bright shade of red, as he shakes his head vigorously. “You are crazy. I did not sleep with your best friend.”

A sense of relief washes you. “So tell me what it is! What is it that you can’t possibly tell me? It must be it, or do you expect me to believe you somehow have feelings for her?!” You mindlessly intrude, but now seeing Jungkook’s face is vermillion red and how silent he is for a few seconds after the accusation, you can’t even believe there is a chance it might be true.

You hesitantly approach, voice caught up midways. “You… do you have feelings for Lia?”

Jungkook stares back at you, and you can see a hint of sadness on his eyes. Internally, he is terribly conflicted. He doesn’t know what he can say to you. He already has the answer to your query on the tip of his tongue, clearer than anything else but he cannot do that. It would be unfair to everyone, especially you. 

In life, Jungkook believes he is a risk taker—he is taught that way, ever since he was a little kid. Risk is what makes life even better and interesting. But how can he gamble with what you both have right now? He could never take that risk for what you have right now with him. It’s too much in stake—a game not worthy to play, and he knows his chances like the back of his hand. So he forces a smile, mustering all his might to say something that he is well aware does not reflect what he is truly feeling.

“I—I think so..”

Listening to his answer, you nod slowly, not knowing exactly how you feel. You are happy for him—for Jungkook to finally find someone he likes, someone who can get him off the meaningless sex routine he has been accustomed to for awhile now. And truth to be told? Lia is one of the best girls you ever acquaintanced with. If one thing you can ever count on, is that both of your best friends are great people that somehow grealy deserve each other. Lia is pretty, smart, fun to talk and party with, and allegedly good at sex—you don’t really now, it’s just what she claims to be—and Jungkook is the kindest soul out there—even if he is a certified douchebag once in a while—but they really fit each other well.

But is it disappointment in the pit of your stomach?

Noticing how silent you have become, Jungkook quickly takes the opportunity and changes the topic he instantly regrets. “So, how are things with Seokjin? I hear you both are hitting it well.”

Your throat feels constricted, so you clear it, hoping your stupefiedness is unrecognizable. “Yup. He is a good guy. I am now in the Taekwondo club as well, so… yeah I’ve been seeing him a lot too.”

“I am glad you finally got into the club! I remember how much of a pain you are, always go on and on talking about Taekwondo.” He rigidly smiles, eyes still trained on the dish served in front of him, cutting it in pieces. God, he is seriously digging his own grave with this fake supportive best friend shit.

“Yeah, whose fault is it that I got off Taekwondo in the first place, huh?”

Jungkook sighs, resting his utensils on the plate. He is aware of it very well, he knows what a fucking coward he has been since little, which may had forced you giving up on taekwondo—something you really loved. You can’t even imagine how guilty he is about everything. You have been the one thing keeping him sane, yet he always thinks himself on the recipient side of the friendship. And the midst of his current vulnerable state, he feels greatly undeserving of you. Who is he kidding? You might even regret saving him from humiliation on that fateful day, ten years ago.

Sensing that your joke may have not been taken well by Jungkook, you reach out to him, placing your palm on his, trying to soothe the indignation palpable on his face. “Jungkook, I am sorry.. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.. I know. It’s okay.” Jungkook answers, lips pursed into a tight line. You can see that he is indeed piqued, and truthfully, it is your fault. He always blames himself for the time he felt you sacrificed so much for him—like Taekwondo, for example. You convince him that it is not his fault since you can always go back to Taekwondo again—you just choose not to, but he always blames himself, thinking of the what ifs. You should not have brought it up and joked about it.

The silence then ensues, the tension between you and him thickens like you can slice it and choke it down your throat. You were about to apologize again, right when your phone rings and displays Seokjin’s name on the screen .Jungkook definitely saw the name too himself. You are hesitating whether to answer or not, before Jungkook answers it for you rigidly, jaw clenched tight. 

“Answer it.” 

When you are in the middle of conversation with Seokjin—and unimportant one, Jin is just asking what are you doing because he is bored in the middle of intensive taekwondo training, so you just casually tell him about grabbing a brunch with Jungkook—your best friend quickly flips few bills from his wallet, raising up from his seat. You swiftly hold him back, cutting off the ongoing call without even saying goodbyes. “Jungkook, where are you going?”

“I guess you must be somewhere with Seokjin, right? Let’s go, don’t want to keep the handsome boy waiting.”

The way Jungkook pronounces every word is heavy with sarcasm, and it wounds you. Is he seriously telling you that you are going to ditch him for Seokjin? Dry tears are lounging on the corner of your eyes till your visions are blurry, and it is hard to even breathe. How dare he play that game to you? Does he really think he has any right to treat you like that?

Jungkook must have noticed your contorted face and inevitable tears, and he is quick to apologize. “I am sorry, I didn't mean it like—”

“Save it.” You curtly cut him, slapping a few bills on the table. “It’s my turn to pay now. And you are correct. Thank you for that, I will find that handsome boy right now.”

If Jungkook calls you again, you are unable to hear it. Too pissed off to even breathe, your head feels like it’s about to explode along with tears that are quick to rain on your parade.

*

After you storm off the brunch with Jungkook, your afternoon class is fortunately cancelled. Instead of going with your words and meeting Seokjin, you decide you are too emotionally exhausted and head back home. So here you are, chilling in your apartment alone, watching netflix and eating popcorn after completing a long nap of five hours straight. Your phone is far ducked inside your room, as you notice Jungkook has blown off your phone for quite a while now, and you are this close to answer it so you throw it away. That bastard definitely deserves a lesson for pulling an unfunny passive aggressive prank like that.

While you are in the middle of refilling your bowl for the second batch of popcorn, your apartment door is swung opened. It is Lia, with a huge triumphant smile on her face. “Look what I brought us!”

You don’t even know the reason why, the moment you are looking at Lia’s face, you immediately remember Jungkook’s claim that he has feelings for this girl. For your best friend. For a girl who looks exactly like his ex. Damn, did you really sound that bitter?

“What is it?” You fake enthusiasm, even if what you really want to do is sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Chicken and beer! Not just chicken, this is the exact brand and flavor you like! I think since we rarely hang out nowadays, tonight we can watch bad movies together and eat and drink unhealthy food and drinks we probably will regret in the morning!” She cheerfully shouts, resting the packages of food on the table, running to her room to change into comfy clothes.

You bite your lips, regretting how undeserved she is for your cynical thoughts. You are greatly touched by her mindful gesture. Albeit harsh and sometimes cold, Lia is really affectionate at times, kind and selfless to her friends, especially you. You can’t even count how much she helped you, saving you from an embarrassment or humiliation due your sloppy and forgetful trait. The mind is indeed a dangerous place, and you should limit any possible toxicity that might be planted and grow in it.

So you and Lia jump to watch some chick flick which she always denies to like, but somehow always in tears after. One thing that you might not realize is that you often find yourself staring at her, thinking about how easy it is to like her. She is really the dream girl. Pretty, strong, funny and independent. She’s basically perfect. You even doubt Jungkook deserves her, seriously.

“Honey, another look and I think I might just go gay for you.” Lia sighs, resting the chicken drumstick on the plate. You avert your eyes on the TV, shy of being caught staring. “What is it? Are you falling for me? I swear—”

“No, I just.. Nothing.”

You are silent, busy gulping the beer to hide how flustered you are right now. Damn, are you really that obvious? “There must be something. Y/N, I will not push, but you know you can tell me everything. Nothing will surprise me, seriously.”

You nod, throwing your attention back to the movie. But not even five minutes, the curiosity gets the best of you, so you decide to mum a question to her. 

“Lia, what do you think about Jungkook?”

You kind of wish she does not hear you, but it is instantly cancelled since she answers. Yup, she can hear your silly question, loud and clear.

“Jungkook? He is hot, good looking and kind. A little dumb and blabber a little bit too much, but I think it’s manageable.” She nonchalantly answers, suddenly her prodding eyes are thrown at you. “Where does this suspicious question come from?”

“Nothing! I just want to know what you think of him.” You bitterly smile. Yes, definitely that and only that.

Another ten minutes pass and you open another question, still full of hesitation whether it’s best to ask or just keep it to yourself, yet it’s literally killing you so you ask anyway. “Hypothetically speaking. If… I don’t know, Jungkook confesses to you he likes you. Would you accept it?”

Lia looks at you strangely — like you have grown another head, when her face suddenly brightens, an imaginary light bulb practically pictured on her head. A sleazy smile is worn on her lips, her eyebrows wiggling playfully. “Ah! So that is about all this. Finally!”

“Of course! Jungkook is a nice guy, he is kind, respectful, albeit a little annoying and dumb, he is hot, which kinda makes it even. He listens well, and strangely gives good advice.” Lia brightly smiles, literally like the woman who endorses cooking items in the supermarket to middle aged mothers. “I think anyone having a monogamous relationship with that manchild is very, very lucky!”

You do notice how exaggerated and odd her sentence is, but when you are about to reply, few soft knocks are heard on your door. So keeping the words back, you wake up and mindlessly open it.

Well, It turns out to be Seokjin, and he could arguably be the last person you think would be standing in front of your doorstep now.

“Seokjin? What are you doing here, at this time of the night?”

Seokjin answers with a serene smile, his eyes sparkling amidst the dim hallway. “I am sorry to be at your doorstep this late. I just… I just want to talk to you. Is that weird?”

Your heart literally skips a beat at that. Seriously? Seokjin comes to your apartment at 10pm just to talk to you? Is this even real? “You can’t just call me? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but I don’t want to tire you. You just finished your crazy tiring training!”

“I’ve been trying to contact you, but I went into voicemail. So I guess, more reason to meet you, right?” Seokjin shyly smiles, scratching his nape. God, have you ever mentioned that he is really cute? “I hope I’m not a bother.”

“No! Of course not. But my roommate is here. Do you want to go somewhere else? I think one restaurant near here is still open.” You quickly offer and Seokjin agrees with a nod. You are hurriedly about to grab your purse, when Lia walks out to the doorstep, meeting Seokjin.

“Hi! You must be the roommate. I’m Seokjin.” Seokjin offers a hand along with a charming smile. Lia receives it with confusion written on her face. 

“Are you both going somewhere?” She asks, puzzled. You slightly run to the door, hoping there is nothing to be discussed amongst the three of you anymore.

“Yes! We are. I’ll be back soon, see you!” You quickly smile and close the door right on her face. Damn, you don’t know what has gotten into you, but you really can’t seem to shake that cautious feeling. It really needs time before you even consider letting Seokjin hang out with your nosy friends. Like Lia, or even Jungkook.

Especially Jungkook.

*

Jungkook is sitting with Taehyung, his project mate on the corner of a restaurant near your apartment. He has been trying to contact you since afternoon but you still haven’t replied to his call nor messages, it makes him feel guilty beyond words. He shouldn’t have snapped like that at you, you literally did nothing and he blew everything way out of proportion—especially when that dickhead Seokjin called you. And now he is nearly losing his mind, because he doesn’t want to spend another minute in your probable wrath. How can everything be so messed up?

“Dude, stop calling her. She’ll call you soon. Why is this such a big deal?” Taehyung groans when Jungkook relentlessly dial your number once more. He doesn’t even know why, but another call you ignore, he might combust and run to your apartment, begging for reconciliation. He is seriously just that desperate.

The call fails, yet Jungkook is still tapping on the call again button when Taehyung meddles in his pathetic best friend obsession. “Hey, stop! Why are you doing this, dude? You like this girl or what?” 

At Taehyung’s accusation, Jungkook was silent. “I don’t know. But I can’t stop, Tae. Or I’ll go crazy.”

Taehyung sighs, giving up and instead going back to his work. As long as the tasks are divided, he would not be bothered by his friend’s crazy fixation towards a so-called-friend. Seriously, why do people even want to monogamously date? It’s such a hassle, and unimportant. Girlfriends are liabilities, and Jungkook of all people should know it!

After being rejected for another three calls, Jungkook finally gives up, slamming the phone on the desk. “I give up. She’ll never answer. Fuck it, I need to work.”

Taehyung glances at that guy trying to focus on the task in front of him. Everyone can see how out of place he is—if there’s a guarantee Jungkook will not land a punch to his precious face, he really wants to tease him right now it is hilarious. Damn, his friend is whipped.

Amongst the silence, Jungkook’s phone suddenly rings. Throwing the thousand page book in his grasps right away, he answers it like a madman—probably without even checking the caller. It must not be the girl of his dreams, since his hopeful puppy face instantly sombers.

“Of course not! How can I, we just got into a fight.”

After listening to the faint caller’s word, his knuckles intimidatingly whiten due, jaw tightening. “Seriously? They are leaving now?”

A few banter and the call ends, but Taehyung can see how bothered the guy is after the call. He is no longer bothered to even pretend he is working, instead his eyes hollow, zooming out to nothingness. But another five minutes, a slight tingling from the entrance bell is heard and Jungkook feels like his heart is about to fall out he instinctively ducks his head. Taehyung tries to steal a look to the source of attention, and it’s you, the girl he has seen a lot previously with Jungkook and Seokjin… Together while holding hands.

Oh, oh. This is bad.

Jungkook really should just storm out. He is never the masochist type, but somehow curiosity gets the best of him so he stays, his work is completely ignored. He focuses on glaring to the other side of the restaurant where you and Seokjin sit near the window, nonchalant to his presence while lively and affectionately talking to each other. And for fuck sake, can fucking Seokjin get his hands off you? It takes everything in his power to ignore the need to slap those dirty paws away.

“Jungkook, we should go..” Taehyung silently pleads, noticing how tense his friend has become since you and Seokjin arrived. But Jungkook is unable to hear or sense anything, was too focused on probing both of you while trying not to be caught.

It is a rather short meal, as you and Seokjin only ordered a dessert to share and Jungkook is irritated. You finished a bowl of ice cream in one sitting and you can’t seriously get a dessert for your own? Disgusting—After approximately thirty minutes, you and Seokjin head out, hand by hand with a sickeningly shy smile on both of your faces.

Jungkook thinks that is the end of it, thank God he can finally breathe. But how wrong he was to even think he will remain unscathed, because as both of you stand in front of the restaurant, Seokjin bravely pulls you closer by the nape and crashes his lips on yours. It feels like a punch to Jungkook’s gut, seeing how blissful both of you are engaged in a sweet kiss, your hands on his cheek and his hands clasped on your waist. There’s the anger, the jealousy raging inside Jungkook’s chest at the moment that it’s even difficult to breathe. 

As now both of you and Seokjin have left the scene, Taehyung forces himself from the tense situation to steal a glance at Jungkook. Just seeing him—staring at the ceiling with no expression whatsoever—radiates the devastation and frustration he is currently experiencing. God, Taehyung hopes he will never have to experience that kind of emotion in his life.

*

During ten years of friendship with Jungkook, you never knew what it feels to have him avoid you. But now that you are exactly being treated like a plague by him, you wish you were warned beforehand because it fucking hurts. And you have no idea how or why, and you have no one to console your loss — not even Seokjin, or Lia. Well it mostly because you don’t want them to realize how fucking dependent you are to Jungkook, it’s pathetic.

“Kitten, you are spazzing out. Are you sure you are okay?”

Seokjin’s words are nearly lost on you, and the moment his hand is on yours, you unconsciously flinch. He is now examining you, with a gaze full of worry. 

“If you are feeling not okay, we can just go home.” Seokjin kindly offers, but you shake your head fervently, not wanting to wallow again in your sadness. You can’t take this away from Seokjin, when it’s his dearest fellow frat brothers—especially the seniors who are having the party. Seokjin as the angel he is will not let you be alone in your apartment.

Since the day you meet Jungkook for brunch, a week has passed and it seems like you and him are in the middle of a cold war. It’s not like you are not speaking to each other, but every word coming from him speaks distance and you are tired and just stop trying—yet it doesn’t lessen the pain. And now you are going with Seokjin for his frat party, and you know Jungkook will be there—it might be the reason you are simultaneously eager and despise going to the party. You are terribly anxious about facing him, but you can’t back down when you know you did nothing wrong.

In front of the frat house, Seokjin holds your hand and brushes his lips to your temple as an encouragement. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

You throw your gaze at Seokjin’s side profile. Seriously, what did you do to deserve him? He is seriously the kindest soul out there, always looking for your best interest. He never hesitates to go big for you, yet you can help but to feel guilty. He is too kind. Too perfect. And you can’t shake this feeling of undeserving and owning him everything to him.

The moment your feet step into the party, your eyes instantly fall to someone so familiar yet so strange—Jungkook. He is leaning on a sofa, talking animatedly with two girls on either side, leeching to him like they are willing to take turns to suck him dry. You roll your eyes in disgust. What were you expecting? That Jungkook might go celibate and seriously get a grip on his life? You must be drunk. That bastard can’t even face the fact that he likes someone and actually does something about it.

Yes. He likes Lia. But being a total fuckboy is not what someone should do when he seriously likes someone, right? You just want the best for him, not wanting Jungkook to waste another time when he can have someone he truly likes instead of engaging in another one night stand.

While Seokjin is chatting with his group of friends, you excuse yourself to grab a drink. He, as the gentleman he is, offers to accompany you, but you refuse—mentioning it will only take a short while. And after finally settling in the kitchen where you can finally have a space for your own, you heave few deep breaths. You do not know exactly why, but being surrounded among strangers always sends you to a nervous bundle. 

That’s exactly the reason why you always avoid going to parties. You wanted to tell Seokjin about the anxiety you feel, but you feel like it’s too much of a burden to throw on him so you just swallow everything and hope for the best—but now you regret everything. At least previously, you have Lia and you are assured she is going to take care of you. Not that you don’t think Seokjin will not, but the trust issue you have for nearly everyone is not going to go away when you literally only know him for one freaking month.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Suddenly, a familiar voice is heard and you look behind, seeing Jungkook with a worried gaze, his palm soothing your back. “You don’t really look good. Does the party bother you?”

You bask in his appearance, and sense the anxiety building up inside your head crashes into a loud sob. Seeing such a familiar face, worried about your well-being somehow instantly relieves you, and the emotion is excessive and you inevitably feel the urge to cry. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry.” Jungkook whispers, pulling you inside his arms and enveloping you with the ever-so-familiar warmth. His fingers forming circles in your back, just the way he used to calm you on every rainy day, while you clutch into his jacket for dear life. 

“Why do you even come here, you idiot? You should have let me know.”

His ignorant statement somehow flares the anger inside you, and you irritatedly push him away with both your palms. Jungkook is a jerk, and you do not deserve any of this. “How can I let you know, Jungkook? When it’s crystal clear you are avoiding me. I haven’t heard anything other than your one two word messages. I can’t even call you!” 

The guilt is definitely painted on his face, confirming a guess that has been going around your head. He truly was avoiding you. “I—I don’t mean it like that…”

“What wrong did I do, Jungkook? How can you do this to me?” You whimper sadly. All the frustration inside you is coming out. “I know I was wrong, but this is not how we resolve things, Jungkook. You know it. And you can’t even tell me what’s wrong directly to my face, or even try to reconcile our friendship, instead you go back to partying, eye fucking two girls at the same time when I’m standing right here. Do you even know how it makes me feel?”

“It’s not that!” Jungkook defends himself, feeling the obnoxious guilt seeping inside his heart. He feels at fault now seeing how heartbroken you look, and the fact that he is the one causing them. It’s like he is finally awoken, that he has been selfishly trying to redeem himself from a one-sided love for his childhood best friend without thinking about how you feel. But in his defense, he thought you would be okay! 

“I...I just thought now that you have Seokjin, you won’t be needing me no more. He seems to be such a better companion than I am. And I know you like him so much, Y/N, I feel like...”

“Hey. Are you okay?” 

All of a sudden, Seokjin appears in the kitchen, staring at both you and Jungkook standing in front of each other with somber looks on each of your faces. He definitely was about to say something, but like he sobers up and puts up a thin smile and reaches out to you. “You take a long time to get a drink, so I thought I should check up on you.”

You quickly grab the nearest bottle of beer, giving a short, civilized smile to Jungkook to handle the pain throbbing inside his chest. You desperately need space away from him, swearing that you would do anything to avoid breakdown in the middle of a frat party filled with tons of strangers. “Excuse me.”

“Hey, Seokjin! Get your girl, we are going to play!”

That trademark voice was definitely Hoseok’s, gesturing you to join the circle of group with countless shots in the center—which is literally a recipe for a disastrous night. Seokjin is about to wave him off, intending to focus on your well being instead, but that is seriously the last thing you want to do right now. All you need is alcohol—lots of them and avoid whatever internal conflict you are having since that’s what you do best. Hence, you pull the older guy closer to the group cheering them on, forcing him to sit down beside you. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you are not comfortable.” Seokjin consoles, his hands smoothing on your thigh. 

“But I want to!” You fake a cheer, pretending to sound enthusiastic. “I haven’t done this in a long time. I wanna do this again.”

Jimin—one of the other frat brothers, is counting the people and after clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “We need one more. Hey, Jungkook, come here!”

You quickly snap your head towards your so-called best friend, who just came out from the kitchen from your previous unpleasant encounter. Just a glance and you can see how messed up he looks right now. Jungkook seriously was about to flip Jimin off, instead wallowing himself in sadness and regret. But seeing you sitting in the circle, he gets no other choice but to accept the offer. All that he can think about is the annoying frat buddies of his who might force you to do the things you despise, along with your occasional social anxiety that might ruin everything for you. He will never forget himself if they happen without him there, when he had the opportunity to. He’ll do it, regardless of your current distaste for him.

“Okay! So we are going to play Never Have I Ever!” Jimin shouts, and your stomach dips in nerves. God, are you seriously going to do it? But then you feel a certain concerned stare is directed towards you, and your pride forces you to act nonchalant. You are not going to let Jungkook think he needs to babysit you again. The previous thing in the kitchen is humiliating enough, you don’t need another second. 

“It’s the usual. if you have done it before, drink a shot! Don’t worry, we have abundant alcohol supply and our dearest freshmen right here, kindly volunteer to refill the glasses.” You emphatically look amongst the fellow freshmen, standing outside the circle with bottles of alcohol in their hands. God, this reminds you why frat people are seriously the worst.

“I’ll start! Okay. Never have I ever sexted someone during class.”

A series of groans are heard in the circle, few people—some that you know are Taehyung, Hoseok, and even the smartest of the frat boys, Namjoon bottoms up their respective drinks. Seriously? They pay tuition to sext during class. What a disgrace.

And of course Jungkook’s glass is empty too. What did you expect?

Next is Hoseok. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm before!”

Well, that one is on you, but you are just glad to be able to finally drink. And damn is it good to finally have alcohol buzzing inside your system—it’s been way too long. After drinking his own, Seokjin offers to exchange your empty glass into a full one. You send a thankful smile his way.

“Never have I ever sent a nude to someone.”

Well, that's correct on your previous relationship with a dickhead in your high school. Wow, you feel the slight kick, but since your tolerance is quite high, your tongue still craves for more.

“Never have I had a threesome before.”

Your eyes curiously find Jungkook, as he bottoms up his third glass of the game, with only a few of the people there drink—Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and one of the unknown girls. Not that you did not expect it, but you find yourself mildly uncomfortable and somehow disappointed with the facts. He is Jungkook. You should have known it.

“Never have I ever roleplay mommy / daddy kink during sex.”

You detect Seokjin shyly drinking his glass, and you fake a gasp. The alcohol on your spine and the great atmosphere are a success in bringing up your mood. “Wow, I knew it! It’s all so clear, you must have daddy kink!” You let out a belly laugh as he softly pinches your waist, still abashed to the new found fact. What you miss is Jungkook shooting daggers both your ways and Taehyung on his side giving him a few comforting taps on the back.

“Never have I ever liked someone else when I was in a relationship!”

The question somehow kills every fun you have, as you silently recall your previous relationships. There was definitely something on your mind, but you quickly pushed them back. No. It did not make sense and still does, and it was something you chose to bury a long time ago. Pretending it never exists is way easier.

But when you straighten your back to regain your sense, your eyes instantly find Jungkook sipping on his alcohol whilst glaring at you, before throwing his back and bottoming it up. Not only that, even after he slams the glass back on the table he is still giving you the same intent stare. What does he want from you? If he is trying to mess with your mind it is not working—so you faked nonchalance, waiting for the next question, yet your mind is busy thinking about who might be on the receiving end of Jungkook’s feelings while he was in a relationship with his bitch of an ex.

The game goes on for another round, and boy was it a mess. As time goes by, the questions are getting out of hand, until a point you seriously think you need to see your therapist due to how traumatic the questions are. During the game you only drink five glasses, which is still not enough for you—and Seokjin, who apparently has a great alcohol resistance as well. The game ended when Hoseok and Taehyung were hugging each other with two bottles of vodka between them, noisily faking smooches sound to each other.

When Seokjin offers to walk away from the rainsacked table, one of the friends whom you recognize as Yoongi holds him back with a tactful smile. “Hey, Seokjin! I’m bored, Let’s play!”

“Yoongi, I think that’s enough play. I think me and Y/N are just going to talk.” Seokjin calmly refuses, when Jungkook comes to Yoongi's side, resting his arm on the smaller man with his face bright red, looking totally buzzed.

“Ugh, that’s so boring! Why don’t we just play a game!”

You snort when you can smell his breath reeking with booze. No wonders though, he only missed two shots during that godforsaken game. “Jungkook—”

“No! I want to play!” He childishly pouts again. Here goes Jungkook acting like a nine year old whenever he is drunk. You roll your eyes agitatedly. Can he grow up already? “I want to beat you and this boyfriend of yours. Let’s play beer pong!”

“That’s a great idea, Jungkook! I think for the prize the winner can ask the loser for anything.” Yoongi shows his gummy smiles forming a smirk. Seokjin was about to discard the offer when his friend cleverly ignited another fire. “What, you don’t think you can win? Or do you just don’t get the nerves to? Too scared to be beaten down in front of your girlfriend?”

Somehow the conversation is loud enough that it attracts people, and now everyone is wooing the provocative statement from Yoongi. He has been silent throughout the previous game, and you don’t even know why he is so keen about playing beer pong with you and Seokjin. Can’t he just ask someone else instead? But you are assured, since one thing you learned from athletes like Seokjin, he is not easily provoked by such cheap statements. 

“You are on.” He grimaces as you gape, not expecting the sudden plottwist. How can he just approve? Damn him, you seriously do not want anything to do with these frat boys! “But I swear to god if you lose, I am going to force you to kiss this manchild for fucking five minutes in front of everybody.”

“Well that’s not really a punishment if I will enjoy it, but go on.” Jungkook drunkenly shouts, Yoongi palpably shudders beside him. The crowd laughter goes wild, as other freshmen—you seriously really feel bad for them now—sets up the red solo cups on the table. Your head spins in confusion, as you literally have not once played beer pong before. It’s a lost cause, and you are going to be punished by those evil spawns!

“Seokjin, I seriously can’t play for shit!” You hisses in worry while Seokjin smiles as an assurance.

“No worry, Y/N. I am a reigning champion of beer pong is this godforsaken frat. We will surely win.” He holds you by the shoulder. You send a judging gaze to Jungkook as he pretends to look nonchalant, confidently rubbing his palm together. Damn, you really want to smack him in that idiotic drunk ass face of his. What a jerk! You just hope Jin is truly as good as he claims, because if not, you are completely, utterly fucked. And not even a good one.

The first thing you did wrong was to believe Seokjin is just as good as his words, because Yoongi—who you just knew is the captain of the basketball team—completely triumphs him through every shot. And you already in peace with the fact that your aiming skill is the worst thing that could happen to you, so there goes scoring zero. That bastard Jungkook, somehow amidst the drunkenness is able to score a lot as well—probably due to the fact that he also plays football. Now that you think about it, the game itself does not make sense. And not only that you lose, the glasses you shove down your throat are quite a lot, to the point you can finally feel the buzz of alcohol in your spine. Just fucking perfect!

“Yes! We win!” Jungkook gleefully shouts, seeing the last red cup in front of your table has the shiny yellow ball in it. Seokjin sighs in defeat, quickly taking the last glass and drinking it, completely forfeited. You groan, rubbing your aching temple. This is gonna be rough.

“Wow! Do we finally have the winner here?!” Yoongi shouts with mirth, as the crowd woo. “Well, I don’t want to hold you back, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I am just giving you a taste of your medicine. You can now make out with the bride.” Everyone snickers, and you are too shy to even look at Seokjin. “But we don’t want porn here, so just three minutes?”

“Are you okay with this? I can make him stop.” Seokjin asks calmly, as Yoongi snickers about his friend’s cringey thoughtfulness. Well now that everyone’s looking at you, you ain’t really got any choice, right? So you hesitantly nod as a permission, before Seokjin encloses his lips on you, and all you can sense is the deafening shouts of the crowd.

And Jungkook’s deflated back while exiting the room.

*

Two hours after the last disastrous beer pong and a three-minutes exhibitionist makeout session with Seokjin, you are shocked to still find yourself sitting at the frat party. Seokjin has asked you multiple times if you want to head home, but you refuse, feeding him lies about somehow still enjoying the party. Truthfully, you don’t even know what he is holding you back. You stopped drinking after the game, instead drinking lots of water to avoid a bad hangover in the morning. The party is dull, especially when you are no longer drinking and alone—Seokjin is asked by a few fellow final year friends to join them for a drink outside, so you assure him you’ll be okay staying back. All you do now is keep an eye on your so-called best friend, shoving alcohol down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. There were few girls around him, but the way Jungkook was not having it and instead focusing on the drinks—his nonchalance probably bore them so they fled, locking on other frat boys as targets. It is only Taehyung now with him, who looks just as drunk as he is. Literal dumbasses.

Amongst the loud bass thumping inside the room, your phone vibrates. You quickly excuse yourself from a couple who is now making out beside you—god, you seriously thought the girl was interested in talking to you before, but now she just ignores you while shoving her tongue down the boy’s throat!—and walks out to pick up the call. Against your expectation, it is Jungkook’s brother, Junghyun on the other side of the call..

“Y/N! Y/N, I am so glad you pick up!” Junghyun shouts loudly, sounds greatly relieved after listening to your greetings. You chuckle, realize it has been quite a long time since you heard from him. You desperately need to visit him sometimes, instead of constantly hanging out with his idiot younger brother.

“Hey, do you know where Jungkook is? We actually have to fly to Busan tomorrow morning, so we expect him to be home now. He even brought the car with him!” Junghyun shouts filled with stress, then you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. He will fly tomorrow morning, so why did he even bother to come to the party? You scoff in disbelief.

“Yes, oppa. I am in the same party with him, but he is not looking real good.” You answer, looking inside the frat house. Well, not that his brother is unaware of Jungkook’s current trait of drinking and partying—not that he supports it—but you just think that he would be more responsible in his choices, and the your disappointment at him is vivid as a day. Making his family worried, all because he just wants to party which he nearly does every week? It’s shallow even for him. “But I’ll get him home now, no worries.”

Junghyung release a relieved sigh. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you!”

After a shot goodbye, you close the call and furiously march inside the frat house, right to Jungkook’s side. He is still drinking, but now looking severely drunk while unreasonably laughing with Taehyung, and now Jimin as an addition. Three drunk guys are never a good combination. “Jungkook, you fucking idiot, let’s go home!” 

With that Taehyung whistle loudly, tapping Jungkook on the back fervently, pepping him. “It’s Y/N! God, finally she is asking you to get something-something!” You scrunch your eyebrows at the drunk ass guy with a reddened face. You are earnestly curious for what booze he is having so you can avoid drinking it forever.

“You want to go home? Let’s go home, babygirl.” Jungkook lowly whispers whilst standing up, but before you can even react to such provocative words, he limps—probably dizzy from consuming too much alcohol. You circle his arms on your shoulder, helping him cause you are certain he is unable to walk on his own now.

Limping to the outside of the house at the best speed you can do, you find his car is parked a few meters from where you both stand. You grumble, swearing that you would keep a tab in every kindness you give to this unthankful moron. 

“Hmm, you smell nice.” Jungkook whispers, the tip of his nose settles on the crook of your neck, brushing it to your skin repetitiously as he hums in delight. All of a sudden you feel like it is hard to breath, your nape hair standing from such impulse. Damn, how can he take so much reaction out of you? It’s totally unfair! “I love your smell, babygirl. I wish I could smell you everyday.”

“Jungkook, I smell like booze, smoke and sweat. And what the fuck is wrong with you!” You hiss, trying to calm your irregular heartbeat. And you can always trust Jungkook to somehow flirt with you in the middle of his drunken antics. “I need to get you home, Jungkook. Don’t make me throw you on the street, okay?”

Listening to your cold answer, Jungkook pouts, his arms fold on his chest. The luring persona he had is now replaced to the childish one, and you can’t believe you have to deal with it now. “You are being a meanie to Jungkook! You have to apologize!”

Boy did he mean it, because he is now refusing to enter the car until you apologize. You sigh in distress — but some part of you do enjoy the cute banter with your drunk best friend. You are definitely going to tease him about this after he is sober.  “Okay! I apologize, Jungkook. I won’t throw you away, and I will get you home safely. Satisfied?” He nods with a foolish smile.

Then you realize that you don’t know where he places his car keys at, so you ignore the warning in your head and search his pockets, trying to disregard that he is wearing tight-ass pants that force you to feel him up somehow. God, you can’t even shake the embarrassment creeping to your cheek. Where the hell is that key?!

“Y/N, do you seriously want to do it here? I want out first time to be in bed, please.” Jungkook politely says, like he did not just imply about sleeping with you — instead asking for a candy. You whimper, greatly embarrassed even if you know it’s only a drunken act. He does not mean it in any way possible, so the flutters inside your heart should stop! You curse yourself, despising how his words are now affecting your wellbeing.

After finding the key in his left back pocket, you open the door to him and he kindly obeys, but you take the chance and purposefully hit him in the head with the door. Serves him right! As Jungkook winces while bearing the physical pain, you gladly saunter to the driver's side, turning on the car and heading it to Jungkook’s address—which you already remember like your own, located not really far from university.

Few minutes pass in silence, so you think Jungkook already fell asleep, when a sudden question is heard and throws you away to shock.

“Do you like kissing Seokjin?”

“What the fuck—” You look at him, thinking he is joking but you find him staring back at you, eyes dead serious while his face is painted with no trace of mirth whatsoever. It sends you jitter and nerves all over your body. “Jungkook, I don’t understand why you are asking that.”

“I just want to know if he is a good kisser or not.”

“He doesn’t need to be a good kisser to make me like kissing him.”

You heard Jungkook’s breath hitched like it’s so hard to believe. “So you like kissing him?”

“That’s beside the point, Jungkook. I am just stating a fact cause your logic is flawed.”

You most definitely underestimated the level of distressfulness in his question when Jungkook literally growls, not liking the mind games you are playing on him. “I’m serious. Do. you. like. kissing. him. or not!”

“I don’t know why you are asking that, since it’s literally you who asks for the fucking beer pong game. Not to mention, it’s you who wants me to bone this guy, Jungkook.” You whisper, reminding him of the day he offers you to come to Hoseok’s birthday party. “That question is weird, I am not answering that.”

“I regret that day, everyday…” You hear him mutter silently while looking outside the window. You quickly warn yourself to avoid overthinking it. It’s unhealthy, and you’ve been here before! Better to turn off your feelings before everything gets messy on your side.

“Why do you even have to be bad at beer pong?! It’s just shooting fucking ball to a cup. How bad can you be to not even score a point?!” Jungkook childishly huffs, and you take a few deep breaths to stop yourself from landing a punch to his devilishly handsome drunk face. What you are going to do is ignore him, like an adult you truly are.

But the silence is too much and you just want to talk to him, hence opening up a new topic. “Jungkook, you know you have to leave for Busan tomorrow. You shouldn’t be partying the day before. Have you even packed?”

Jungkook looks at you and sighs, like he is mentally and physically drained—well, as he should from drinking that much. “How can I, when there’s a chance you are going to the party as well.”

You raise your eyebrow, unsure. “What are you saying?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief when grasping how clueless you actually are. “I don’t know what fucking Seokjin has asks you to believe, but I am still your best friend, Y/N.  Since we were kids. I know you like the back of my hand, I know how you hate parties, how you dislike being around strangers, and I know how dangerous it is to be with these frat boys.”

He pauses. “And frankly, I just can’t trust Seokjin. Even with ten years of friendship, I’m still finding new, wonderful things about you and you expect me to trust a fucker who only knows you for a month? Seriously. I only trust myself to be capable of taking care of you.”

The sincerity in his words and gaze, how determined he is with his words seriously blinded your sanity—this part of you trying to assure that what he says is strictly platonic. Your heart is beating so fast it is literally painful to even breath, all the butterflies in your stomach fly without a care in the world. Does he really mean it? Do you even want to know what he means by the words?

The rest of the way passes in tense silence, both of you busy in each of your thoughts, and the car already approaches the street of his house. You sigh, putting on the break when you finally arrive in front of his house lane. “This is it, Jungkook. Go home, get some sleep. Don’t forget to eat some aspirin, and please wake up in time for your flight.”

Jungkook somberly nods, clicking his seatbelt off. You were about to say something, anything about addressing the elephant inside the car—to confirm whether he meant his words, whether he is indeed jealous of the punishment kiss with Seokjin. But then he beats you to it.

“Can I ask you one thing? And please promise me you will answer this.” He stares at you, and you hesitatingly hum as an answer, the tension is hard to miss.

“Answer me truthfully. Do you like kissing him? Seokjin, I mean.”

You sigh, not believing how still hung up Jungkook is on the matter. “Jungkook—”

“I know you like this guy so much, Y/N. I don't even want to ask that. I just want to know if you like the kiss. I wish this guy sucks in kissing, at least let me live with that.”

You look up to him, cheeks turning vermillion as he braves himself to look into your eyes. Your heart swells in pride, thinking how important it is to confirm that to you. God, has he really been this cute before?

“It was okay.” 

Listening to your answer, Jungkook smiles widens from ear to ear, like he is completely over the moon with okay as an answer. “Just okay? Not mind blowing whatsoever?” 

“It was okay.” You repeat, not confirming nor denying his latter question, but Jungkook still looks pleased with just the same answer. The manchild then hums, throwing both his arms around you, enveloping you into a hug so close like he never wants to let go. After a good minute he finally lets go, still with a million-dollar smile on his face and... rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes as he breathes your scent in. This time, you are definitely sure you are going to schedule a slot with a cardiologist because there must be something wrong with your heart for beating that fast. There must be. And then his eyes flutter open, showing a strained gaze filled with anonymous emotion. 

“Are you going to be mad if I were to kiss you now?”

At Jungkook’s hushed questions, the temptation to taste his lips and comply with his request has you blinded, so you let go of your sanity and approve with a shy nod. The realistic side of you is quickly shut down as you don’t want to argue with it now. All you are thinking and craving about is to kiss him, or else you are going to die.

As his lips advances, the kiss finally happens. You can vividly feel the fireworks light up inside your chest—a strange yet wonderful feeling, the first time you ever feel this away while kissing someone. Jungkook’s lips are soft, touching you slowly like he is testing the waters. After he feels your careful reply, he sends more pressure, slowly but sure savoring your lips like he is taking his dearest time with you. Boy did he taste amazing—like a good whiskey, even if it’s probably all on him. The kiss feels amazing, yet you find yourself getting impatient with how it progresses, since all you can think is to feel him close. God, you must have lost your mind.

“Patience, pumpkin.” He teases, and you can feel a sleazy smile formed on his lips. You snort in annoyance, but he unexpectedly uses it to his advantage, stealthily shoving down his tongue inside your mouth cave. You gasp when the taste of alcohol kicks in, but is content nevertheless. You can’t even describe how good it is to have him close, your fingers entangled in his beautiful oak brown silk hair, his hands tightly encircled on your waist. How did you even think about spending a lifetime without kissing him?

“God, can I have you now? But I hate doing it in the car—I want our first time to be special.” 

Somehow, his desperate words instantly sobers your lust-clouded head, viciously taking you back to reality. So he really thinks of you that easily. And like you are saved by the bell, his brother appears from inside the house, probably realizing that the car has arrived but yet to show his brother—for a bit way too long. You curtly shove him away, heading outside the car before slamming the door vigorously. Of course. Of fucking course that is going to happen! What do you expect? He kisses you once and is finally ready to take your hand in marriage? You should’ve known better than to fall for the same tricks he played on those dumb girls. He even does it while drunk, for god sake. You should’ve known better!

With heavy self-disappointment you quickly open your phone, opening an app to order your ride home. All you want to do is now wail in sadness, and promise yourself to never let that happen again. You are too focused on your plan to flee, so when you feel Jungkook’s touch against your skin, you instinctively flinch. You can see how pained he is to see your reaction closing him off, yet you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say even a word to him. The more you think about what just happened, the stronger the ache you feel, so you decided to just stop trying. You desperately need some time alone.

“Y/N! You are here. Thank you so much from bringing Jungkook home. This kid never learns, I swear.” Junghyun smiles, nonchalant to the tense air between you and Jungkook. You put up a fake smile of reassurance to the older guy, shrugging his worry.

“Are you going home? I can drive you, just let me take this guy in first.” Junghyun kindly offers, but you quickly recide. How can you do that when just in a few hours they are going to fly to Busan? They are seriously too kind.

“I ordered my taxi, it will arrive soon, oppa. No worries!” You brightly smile, not minding the obvious stares of Jungkook on your skin. You thank your lucky stars after the white taxi of your choice gladfully is near enough, and the blinding light of the taxi car lamp finally allows you to breathe. “It’s here!”

“Hyung, please take the details of the taxi, will you?” 

While entering the taxi you hear Jungkook’s subtle request to his brother, yet you pretend to be clueless, since it is better this way. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You don’t want to mess with the things you have now. You are so conflicted you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

“Text me when you get home.” Jungkook rigidly murmurs and you nod with the same manner. The taxi finally moves, and after a few seconds of total silence, you find the tears you have been holding for a while finally free, raining down on your cheeks.

*

Finally ending the fateful night, you arrive in your apartment and cry yourself to sleep. You feel betrayed, you feel dirty, you feel played and used. You do not know what has gotten into you to seriously think you are special to Jungkook, but that’s definitely not the case since he just caught up in the moment and just needed you to wet his dick. After that, you are going to ruin a ten year old friendship just because you can’t keep your feelings in hand like he can’t keep his dick inside his pants. You should’ve seen it coming—but now the damage is done, there is no use of regretting the things you can’t change. Yet ever since that day you can’t even sleep, eat, study, or basically do anything without thinking about him.

Especially since in the morning he left for Busan, he informed you through a message that he will be there for a week, and after that he needs to talk to you. You haven’t even replied, leaving him only on read even if that’s basically what you are thinking about night and day. What is he going to say? Is he going to reject you? Is he going to say how disgusted he is for that night? Is he going to tell you should not be friends anymore? There are countless scenarios playing in your head, and not even one is as what you wish it would be. Just an endless count of rejection and humiliation.

So the night before he is coming back, you are seated coated in your blanket in your apartment, right in front of your TV even though you don’t even know what show is playing. You are just zoning out, racking your brains for reasons that you need to say to Jungkook to avoid meeting him tomorrow. Do you just pretend you are sick? Or can you bail on him? But thinking about Jungkook, waiting alone in a cafe makes you sad and guilty, so you immediately cancel that last option. God, what are you going to do?

Too invested in your thoughts, you do not notice Lia is just in front of you. You finally acknowledge her presence when after she is now waving a plastic of delicious smelling food in front of your face. “Hey, earth to Y/N!” She calls you again, the agitation builds up for the past week of being ignored by her own roommate.

“Honey, seeing you like this makes me sad.” She sighs, resting the plastic on the desk. “I brought offering food, and with this I hope you can finally tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, realizing how annoyed she must be seeing you like this. You have been closed off on her as well, keeping the event from a week ago only for yourself. It just doesn’t feel right talking about it with someone Jungkook admitted he likes… Which suddenly pops an idea inside your brilliant head. God! How can you not think of it before?!

You widely let out an ear-to-ear smile which frankly scares Lia due to the drastic change of mood. But you couldn't care less. You need to do this, to save the remaining pieces of your friendship with Jungkook and give him a helpful hand as well.

“Lia, honey, can you please help me with something?”

*

Jungkook arrives at Gimpo International Airport at 5.40pm, along with his parents and brother. After going back for the wedding of his relatives, every new day he can’t wait to finally be back in Seoul. He is worried as hell about you, since he is aware that he did make a mistake that night—he scares you with his overwhelming feelings, but he promises himself to make things right. He would be crazy to let you go that easily. Jungkook definitely felt something from you that night—there is a glimpse of hope that you somehow like him too, and now he is helplessly hanging on to that rope.

After telling you he needed to see you after he got back, you left him on read for a few days and he had to confess that he was so moody and off during those days, constantly pissing everyone around him. But how can he not? He thought he lost his chance. What if Seokjin took those days to convince you how much better of a man he is than him? What if you had enough of him and dump his ass? Or worse, what if you think you can no longer even be friends? Those thoughts constantly bothered him, but when you message time and place to meet him, he feels comforted. He trusted you—you are much better of a person than what his pessimistic mind forced him to believe.

So when his flight arrives, he directly goes to take the train instead of going with his family’s car, heading to the restaurant you informed. As you informed him about the dinner—7pm reservation, he carefully calculated his ETA. Jungkook is a bit confused due to your choice of place—you don’t really fancy Mexican food, but he pays no heed as what he can only focus is what he is about to say and the gift he thought thoroughly and carefully before, secured on his backpack. Jungkook silently smiles. He is going to make this right.

Exactly an hour arrival, he is now in the area of the restaurant. He quickly hitch a taxi, asking the driver to drive as fast as he can since his plan was to arrive first before you. The hope grows dimmer as seconds pass, especially when his taxi is caught in the middle of a traffic jam. Jungkook groans, there is no hesitation that he will be late. He quickly send you an apology by text, in which you do not even read—adding more anxiety to his already existing one.

After a few minutes which passes like a thousand years, he finally arrives in the said restaurant. He slaps a few bills at the driver, not even waiting for a change as he runs inside, nervously tapping his foot after mentioning your name as a reservation. His heart is beating fast, his palms turn clammy, and he feels jittery all over his body. God, the feeling has already been too long to even remember. But he can’t deny that it indeed feels nice. It feels amazing to care and have real emotions this deeply about someone.

Instead of finding the face he has been thinking of night and days, he finds a completely different woman, sitting nervously on the table. He is too overwhelmed to even speak.

“You—What are you doing here?!”

Jungkook can’t even believe his eyes. It’s Lia, your best friend, sitting on the table right now. All at once, his head spins followed by a sudden nausea bubbling up his throat from the great shock. He has been expecting you—to see your face again waiting for him with a smile, to tell you how much you mean to him, to finally confess and give him a gift he carefully picks out for you—but instead you set him up for dinner with your best friend, without letting either of them know. He feels rejected, a wave of sadness crashing at him that he can only weakly sit down, his legs nearly giving him up. He is now mourning on so-selfless yet so idiotic action you do him.

“God, Y/N asked me for dinner together, and he actually set me up with you? What the fuck?!” Lia flares angrily, taking her phone and fervently dialing up your number. Seeing how ugly it can get, Jungkook takes the phone away, closing the call. “What are you doing?!” She hisses.

“I.. I accidentally lied to her that I like you instead of her when she caught us meeting that morning.” Jungkook whispers, his throat too dry for catching up in the sadness. “And now she is setting us up together.”

“God, it all makes sense now! She actually asked me how I feel about you, and knowing you like her, I put good words. Could it be that she thinks I like you too?” She gasps, but Jungkook is already too numb in the feeling. “God, she is such a moron sometimes!”

“That’s okay. It’s just clear now. I know she does not have any feelings for me, and she might be too afraid to say so. She is probably already with Seokjin now.” Jungkook bitterly whispers, trying to uphold his voice yet it still wound him so fucking bad. Of course that is it. Seokjin is a whole perfect package for a man, not a child with zero emotional capacity like him. He must be drunk to even think about competing with that man.

“No, that's not it..” Lia shakes her head fervently at Jungkook’s helpless posture. “I believe she broke up whatever relationship she had with Seokjin. Don’t tell her you know this from me, but they kinda did it in our apartment hallways a few days ago and I accidentally—well not really accidental but that’s not the point—heard! I thought she was extremely quiet and sad because of that!”

He is confused, he really is, but now he knows the fact, there must be something he has not known yet. “Are you sure?” Jungkook rises up to his seat, strangely motivated. Not that he wants to take advantage of your odd break up with Seokjin for his personal advantage, he just wants to be there for you — like what best friends would do.

“Are you okay if I leave you now?” Jungkook kindly asks, and Lia shoo him away boredly, eyes already skimming on the menu.

“Don’t need no boys helping me eat, but you owe me a lot after this, bro. You get it?” With a nod of confirmation and a short smile, Jungkook quickly heads to the place he knew he would find you.

*

You don’t even know what you are doing, seated in the usual coffee shop you always visit with Jungkook. You have been sitting in the cafe for nearly two hours, munching on the countless foods you order from the menu, yet you can’t hold back the obnoxious, ugly feeling in your chest — especially when the barista is asking where Jungkook is when you ordered your usual. It’s literally on you—you were the one setting up both your best friends who greatly deserve and like each other together, so why is it so painful to face the possibility that they are having a nice date in her favorite Mexican restaurant right now?

Great. Now you are crying. God, you must look hideous, no make up, alone with plates of food in front of you. You can’t even imagine what people must be thinking about you right now, since even you are disgusted with yourself.

“I better go home.” You sigh, ready to pick the bill when a soft bell tingling is heard and you do not know whether you can believe your eyes or not, but it signals Jungkook’s entrance. He is wearing a dark blue sweater you bought him for his birthday a year ago, walking pensively to your table. Just looking at him immediately quickens your heartbeat, too loud you can distinctly hear it rings in your ear. What is happening? Why is he here, not more than an hour in the date? That look—Is he mad at you?

“Y/N, before I am going to be angry at you for setting me up with your best friend, I want to hit pause. Okay?” He calmly speaks, resting his bag on the floor. You look at him with teary eyes, still shocked for only his presence so you hesitantly nod. 

“Are you okay? After Seokjin, I mean. I heard about it.” Jungkook whispers, trying for a slow approach to the said matter. You don’t even know how he knows, yet you don’t really care.  “I’m sorry.”

You finally gather your courage to let out your voice, eyes still training on your lap. “Don’t be. It’s hard, but I’m okay. We just realize it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Do you want a hug?” Jungkook good-naturedly offers like it's the most usual thing to do inside a coffeeshop, and you can’t hold the chuckle which he follows. “We always hug it out whenever we are sad. I don’t know about you, but it always works for me. Your hugs are the best.”

You know he probably does not imply anything, so you nod, because you are desperately in need of your best friend’s hug right now. When everything is hard, it feels nice to have someone who completely understands and is willing to listen, instead of telling you what you need to do. That’s the kind of friendship you have with him, and you are thankful neither of you has given up on each other even with the constant fights.

After a good ten minutes just having each other close in a hug—his arms secured around your shoulder while you lean your head on his annoyingly sturdy chest—you let your best friend go. “God, we must be looking like two moron right now.” You whisper, noticing a few glances are thrown at your table and Jungkook snickers, agreeing with your comment. You snort. “More like because you look like a fucking idol and I look a hobo. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Hey, I just arrived from Busan and I directly come here without even changing.” He pouts and you chuckle, feeling the butterflies vividly knocking on your stomach. He helps you asking for the bill, and when it arrives, he directly gives the waiter his card and you angrily shove him away.

“Jungkook, if you pay for the food you don’t even touch, I swear to god—”

“But it's my turn to pay!” He protests and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not, because you did not even eat a thing.”

He quickly munch on the leftover fries, giving the waiter his card and pushing the confused man away before you can snatch the card back. You hiss, seriously feeling guilty for letting him pay for the whole thing. “God, I am starving! Can I eat this?” He asks, munching on your half eaten pasta without waiting for you. You just stare at him, happily eating your food and you can’t hold down the smile.

“Can I have this coffee too?” He politely asks, pointing at your black coffee and you sigh. 

“Jungkook, once again I tell you, you do not like black coffee. I’ll just order you anything.” You are about to call the waiter again when he holds you back.

“I like everything you like, Y/N. I think this goddamn coffee has grown on me.”

But he is completely bullshitting you—and probably himself because as his lips touch the glass to take a sip, he instinctively grimaces at the strong, bitter taste. Gosh, an idiot and somehow you still call him your best friend.

“Jungkook, do you want me to order you a banana milkshake?” You kindly offer like the coffee thing did just not happen, and he answers with a 1000 watt smile that leaves you strangely speechless.

“My hero.”

After exactly another hour talking about the cousin’s wedding he attended a few days ago, both of you and him exit the coffeeshop. You can’t hide your blush when the barista is secretly teasing you with his goddamn eyebrow, not that Jungkook can notice. God, you wish he doesn’t notice.

“Can we walk to your apartment? Are you okay? it’s a little bit cold.” Jungkook worriedly asks, and you nod as an agreement. He smiles serenely at you, his hand runs to fix your messy hair—courtesy of the wind. His fingers delicately put a strand of lost hair to the back of your ear, and smile with all his bunny teeth on display after being satisfied with the result. God, you wish he would not notice how nervous you are right now.

During the short walk filled with comfortable silence, he reaches your hand, tightly intertwining it with his fingers. All the things he does are not special—you nearly do it every time in your so-called platonic friendship, but everything definitely has changed. But the fuzzy feeling quickly turns into nerves when you sense the inevitable talk is coming, as he points to one of the benches in front of your apartment building.

“I am angry at you.”

You look up to him, expecting anger on his face when you found none, instead a thin smile. “You set me up with your best friend. What were you thinking, Y/N?”

“You said you liked her. And I know you need a push to finally do something about it, that’s why I did it.” You guiltily try to defend yourself. Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling remorse of what the conversation will turn into.

“But.. I don’t know whether we want to discuss this, but here goes—we kissed that night, Y/N. Does it even mean anything to you?” 

And now it is there. The hurt, the frustration, the anger shown on his beautiful doe eyes. You know it is coming — the inevitable confrontation about that night. But how can he even ask such question to you? Doesn’t he know it nearly keeps you awake every night?

“You were drunk, Jungkook. And horny... I was—we were just caught up in the moment.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I don’t know about you, but I was not just caught up in the moment.” Jungkook curtly answers, taking a deep breath of courage. He hopes he doesn’t mess up everything and end up chasing you away yet again.

“Can’t you see it, Y/N? I like you. I like you so much for how it seems like a long time ago, but idiot me, somehow I just realize everything now.”

At his answer, your head feels like it is about to explode. But you are too scared, too realistic to even think about the possibility that he may truly mean every word. “You can’t lie to me like that, Jungkook! I am not the girl you can play with like your one night stands. I do not want to be just another number to you.”

“But you're not just another number to me!” He agitatedly hisses, letting his emotions open up on the table. “You think it doesn’t kill me? I think about it nearly everyday. I think about you and Seokjin. I think about you rejecting me. I think about you and our ten years friendship currently on the line. Do you think it has been just a walk in the park for me?”

He takes a deep breath. “I like you, Y/N. I like you so much it kills me for you to close me off that night we kissed. I thought everything was clear—my obvious feelings for you, but just now, you set me up with your best friend. How fucking great!”

The tears welling in your eyes are forcing to come out. “You don’t know how afraid I was, Jungkook. You can’t even imagine how it was for me! I like kissing you—I think I like it a little bit too much—but when you said you wanted to fuck in the car, I felt… I felt disgusted. You were drunk, and I felt like you were just using me for my body, like I’m just another dumb girls who you’ll fuck and never call back. I.. I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”

The statement you let out just brings a whole new guilt on his chest, and he moves to hold you close. “What were you thinking, Y/N. I would never do that to you…”

“How can I think of that? Are you shitting me right now? Jungkook, you slept with at least three girls a week, and you explicitly told me about fucking these girl nearly everyday before. So you expect me to comply and fuck you in that car, ruining our friendship because you only want to fuck me and wet your dick?!”

“Y/N, I swear it is not that. I like you too much, and I got so jealous of Seokjin—I am sorry that I make you feel that way. But I swear to god, at that time I just wanted to show you how much I like you, and I am sorry if it came out that way.”

You take a deep breath, but even doing it suffocates you. “I just need some time. That’s it. Can we… can we just pretend this never happens?” You sigh tiredly, and at your word, Jungkook feels hit with a ton of brick until he is completely numb. You want to disregard everything that happened?

“I am heading upstairs. You.. you can just head home now.” You whisper, and every word coming out hurts you back like it hurts him, but you need this. You need some time to think about everything. You don’t want to hurt yourself again—just seeing him now hurts so fucking bad already. Jungkook is not emotionally ready for you. He just caught up in the moment of drunkenness, and he doesn’t mean it. You should just stop thinking about it.

You are about to leave to cry your eyes to sleep, when you heard him call from behind.

“Here. I bought this for you. Don’t worry, Y/N.  I’ll leave.”

And you can hear the steps of his boots, walking far and far away until it disappears in the  silence. Now that he is not here, you find the wind is ten times colder, and the pain in your chest multiplies a thousand times. It’s only you now, alone with your thoughts. You brave yourself to turn back, seeing a box of chocolate resting on the bench, which then leaves you a crying mess.

It’s the exact chocolate he gave ten years ago to the girls, the one you ate when you saved him from the humiliation he faced. How could he even get this?

To : Y/N

Thank you for saving me again that day. And the day after. And the day after, until today. I owe you my life :)

With love, your vermillion faced favorite person in the world.

Jeon Jungkook.

*

Another week passes, and Jungkook wakes up with a groan inside of his room he shared with Taehyung. God was he trashed last night. His frat was having another party, and he may or may not steal a few bottles and decided to trash himself whilst playing Overwatch—he can’t even remember when or how. His back is killing him for falling asleep with bent back, his face plastered on the keyboard.

He tries to straighten up, but the dizziness from suddenly standing up washes him away that it takes some time to get used to. His lips are as dry as sahara, yet he found no bottle of water that may relieve the thirst—seriously, Jungkook? Stealing two bottles of vodka but forgot to bring up a bottle of water? God he is a moron sometimes.

He walks out of the room, descending to the downstairs with his head still banging painfully due to the bad hangover. He is about to head directly straight to the kitchen, but his steps are paused when he finds Seokjin currently having his breakfast on the table, with… you.

The first thought that comes to his mind is how different you look—you look pale and tired, the dark eyebags are getting prominent and it does look like you haven’t been sleeping well. The thoughts finally come closing when he realizes how awkward the air has become, you, Seokjin and himself on such close distance. Jungkook can’t bear the bitter thoughts of you, having your usual breakfast with Seokjin. God, he must be a bother—so he quickly enters the kitchen, intends to grab a drink and forces himself out of the picture.

“Jung—Jungkook, can we talk? Outside, I mean. I want to tell you something.”

He looks back, not expecting to find you standing up and walking to him to the kitchen. 

“We can. Do we need Seokjin to join as well?” He bitterly shoves the water inside his throat, not even minding how petty he must have sounded. 

“No. No need. I need to talk to you alone.” You beg, internally praying that Jungkook will not make it harder than it already is. All you want to do is say what you needed to say, then run away and bury yourself alive beside the nearest tree. 

Jungkook hums, and follows your hesitant step to the backyard of his frat house. But now that he is seeing you in such close distance, makes him realize that he terribly misses seeing you and talking to you. The week after the confession he let out, he decides to give you the space you deserve—no matter how desperate he is to just send you a message and ask how you’re doing. He can’t even deny that he went to your faculty a few times before, wanting to just see how you are doing even from afar. He knows how cringey and creepy that thought is, but he seriously can’t stand the idea of not having to see your face during those times. Checking up on you is like something he has been doing for ten years now, and he doesn’t intend to stop just because you need your own space.

Now you are standing with him, yet he thoughtfully motion so you can sit on the patio wall. The first touch he gave you since the last encounter, and it successfully turns you ten times nervous than you already are. Will you even be able to say what you need to say when he is right there, looking at you like that?

“Before you say anything, can I ask why are you having breakfast with Seokjin?” He starts, somehow unable to disregard the scene he just witnesses. He doesn’t know why, but he feels somehow sad and anxious that you are spending such an intimate breakfast with him. Sensing that Jungkook is indeed dead serious, and so are you, you decide not to beat around the bush and answer him with the truth.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to see you and he was there, having his breakfast. He was just being polite.” 

“Jungkook, I want to say I am sorry.” You whisper directly and cut to the chase, intending to look him in the eyes but still failing to do so. All because you are nothing but a nervous pile of mess. “I.. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t set you up with Lia just because of my insecurities. I thought I was doing you some good, but that was my fault to overstep it. And I shouldn’t have been angry at the thoughts that you were just playing with me—it’s only in my head and I accused you for it. It’s so unfair for you, I.. I want to apologize.”

Both of you fall into deep and tense silence, waiting for the other to speak up. But falling too uncomfortable with the silence, you decide to open your voice again. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Are you still angry at me?”

“Shouldn’t you apologize for one more thing?” Jungkook calmly asks, basking in your appearance once again like it’s never enough. God, are you even eating well? You hesitantly look up, confused with his words. What does he mean by that?

“The way you expect us to forget everything happened.” He winces soundly just by saying the word he refuses to acknowledge since the moment he heard it. Just thinking about the word you said a few nights back still brings fresh pain inside his chest. “That’s actually what hurts me the most. I don’t really care about the other.” You bit your lower lips. Is it just your hallucination or Jungkook seriously asking that?

Jungkook racks his brain, trying to articulate his thoughts yet failing to do so. Then he gives up, letting his heart do the talking instead. “I like you, Y/N. I don’t want to scare you—but I might even be in love with you. These past few years are so clear now. I like you, I always have feelings for you but it was so clouded with any friendly, somehow platonic feelings I thought I have and I don’t know—what happened with us just awakened me, making me realize  that I don’t want anyone else but me to be the one taking care of you.”

The newfound sincerity in his words astonishes you. Your breath hitches, with his words coming in and out of your mind, yet it still feels unsettled. Does he really mean it? 

“I guess I was just too busy with myself, with my own ways of hiding the pain I felt. But I realize, it was not any parties, or meaningless sex or any other things that makes me happy. I thought it was, but it’s not.” Jungkook takes your chin, pleading for you to look up to him. You are too overwhelmed by emotion, and you are thankful he asked you to sit because if you weren’t, your leg would give you away.

“It’s you. It’s always you.” He proclaims, as clear as the sky upon him. “It’s breakfast with you, talking with you everyday, seeing you be happy and be the one causing it. That’s what makes me happy.”

At such sentiment, the tears swimming in the corner of your eyes finally falls, streaming on the side of your cheek. He quickly pulls you close, his head entangles on your hair and your hands basked on his waist tightly, like you are holding it for dear life.  “Jungkook, I am scared. I don’t want to lose you... What if everything goes wrong and then I lost you forever?”

Jungkook kisses the top of your head. God, he is scared beyond words too. But he loves you too much, he believes in what you both have and is ready to take his chances. “We’ll make it through. I can’t promise you much, but I promise I’ll always look out for our best interests. You won’t lose me. I am your best friend before anything, Y/N.”

You nod, somehow assured by his words. You know it’s going to be hard to believe—even your past self would too, but you trust him with all your heart. Jungkook has been one constant thing in your life, and you trust him and are willing to put everything on the line because frankly, you love him, and he loves you. Maybe it’s time to finally be brave enough to face anything and take that risk. Only because it is him.

Another moment of holding each other close when Jungkook fucking opened his mouth and decided to ruin everything. “So.. Can I kiss you now?” He jokingly whispers and you snort, all sappy moments crumbling down to ashes. An amused chuckle somehow did escape your lips, and he pouts. “Hey, let me kiss you, you pretty girl. Seriously, I kissed you once, and god, that’s all I can think of this past week.”

You roll your eyes, heart beating rapidly fast in your chest. You are going to shrug his face away from you, but the moment you can clearly look up to him, you feel warm and giddy. His face is saying everything, shaded vermillion red while shyly looking down on you. A flashback comes inside your head, reminding you about the eleven year old kid with the same shade of vermillion on his face. He is still the same Jungkook you know—the Jungkook you love and wouldn’t trade for anything in the whole world.

His lips advance closer to yours yet you are the one to close the distance between. To have your lips finally touch against his chapped one, you can feel the same firework lights up, only ten times better now that you finally is truthful to your own feeling. God does it feel amazing to feel it to have him against your lips. Both of you are too content with even such innocent kisses, feeling the smile forming in each of your lips, inevitably bringing up a laughter.

“Fucking finally!”

At the loud roar, you quickly push Jungkook until he falls a few steps back, completely shocked beyond words to hear the shouts behind you—which belongs to Taehyung, somehow with Lia shutting him instantly on the mouth. There are few other frat brothers like Jimin and Namjoon as well, smiling meaningfully in front of the door. You shyly duck your head, god, how long have they been standing there? This is embarrassing!

“Are you going to hit them or should I?” You whisper, walking outside from the back door with Jungkook on your side, escaping the loud shouts and woo from the people standing there. Jungkook chuckles with mirth at your reddened abashed face. Is it a good time for him to say how adorable you are right now, with a burst of red coloring your cheek?

“No worries, I will.” He kisses your supple cheek. “But objectively speaking, I do think Lia has rights for that. She is the one helping me to get you since god-knows-when.” Jungkook smiles endearingly, holding you close around the shoulder when it’s finally just the two of you, brushing a kiss on the top of your head. You chuckle knowingly, and Jungkook stops to see you straight on the eye.

“Aren’t you going to ask me when, why or how? I mean about the chasing you thing with Lia.” He asks seriously, yet apparently can’t get his hands far from you as he reaches for your cheek, softly brushing it delicately with his fingers. You hum, somehow content with his touches. God, you sure like him so much it hurts.

“Baby—you’re cute. But actually it’s Lia who convinces me about you.” You chuckle, and Jungkook scrunch his eyebrows, yet still falling shy at the nickname that sounds entirely different now that you are the one saying it to him. “She told me everything. And that’s actually when I realize that I can trust you. With all my heart.”

Jungkook smiles, heart turning warm from your statement and still, the endearing nickname. “On the light note, you called me your baby. Ugh, can I kiss you again, pumpkin?” He cheekily asks, and your hearts light up at the familiar yet so strange nickname that now it feels different to have him as your lover.

You smirks, holding his palm against your cheek, taking in his disheveled, morning appearance once again. He looks extensively cute with his button nose and reddened cheeks, his disheveled morning hair still super inviting to have your fingers running through it. And it is unfair that somehow he looks his best now, better than anything you have seen him before. High chance it is because for you, the best thing for Jungkook to wear is his smile—especially when it’s because of you.

“Not if you have to ask again every time you don’t.”

He smirks and pulls you by the nape, muttering an answer against your smiling lips. He seriously wouldn’t mind doing this every second of the day.

“Deal.”

========

Finally! nearing 25k, wow this is a lot to write. But it was so much fun and i hope you like it! let me know and lets talk :) kindly check my masterlist !

UPDATE #1 : Drabble posted on masterlist! Do check lovelies! <3

UPDATE #2 : Find the Taehyung spinoff, “The Platinum Rules” click here!

[chickpeatalia]

I heard "working class!Arthur" and I can't think of anything else yes please!!!

Anon, I know you didnt exactly ask for it, but now that you have put the words “working class!Arhur” into my ask box, you have practically opened pandoras box so I’m just gonna go ahead and talk about it anyway. *mwua*  First things first, I shall note that I am not in fact British, so I might not get a few things right. Second, what we’re gonna talk about today is a rather specific human AU that lives in my head.  Third, this ended up being....incredibly long, I’m sorry. The rest is under the cut!

So, why is working class Arthur splendid?

Obviously, there are many different version of how to do a human AU, and oftentimes fandom likes to go down the rich/royal/elite!Arthur route. Which, in fact, is super valid and oftentimes quite fun too. I like these versions too. However, I think oftentimes a working class background is favourable because 1) it makes more sense, to me, on a meta level  and 2) it has a certain charm to it.

Lets consider the meta level first: - despite stereotypes, Great Britain does not consist of aristocracy and royals alone. What are 600 arstocratic families to 60 million of the rest of the population? - the Industrial Revolution started in Great Britain - factory work, steel mills, textile and most prominently, coal mines in the North of England were all operated by the workers. I feel like in Britain, social classes matter way more than on continental Europe, and also to me personally the working class seemed like a particularly important one, historically speaking. Okay, enough history for now, so lets get into the human AU: - Arthur, who grows up in a large family with four brothers (Alasdair & Dylan who are older. And Sean & Peter who are younger) - his parents had Alasdair very early on and you know how it is. With a baby on the way, you got to make the best out of it and take the first stable job you get. (Which was in Glasgow at the time). - but unforntunately high unemployment rates hit the country, especially the working class (thanks Maggie T</3) and what to do if you lose your job and no new work is to be found? Well, you just go and look somewhere else. In the Kirklands’ case, that somewhere else is Cardiff, Wales where Dylan is born. - So they end up sort of moving quite a lot, practically in every part of the UK, in hopes of finding stable jobs for a bit. - Eventually they settle in a suburb of Manchester, England at long last.

- And life goes on

- They recycle so much clothes between the brothers. A good 40% if not more of Arthur’s clothes used to be either Alasdair’s or Dylan’s. - In turn, Sean and Peter also get Arthur’s old school uniforms. Theyre not particularly nice after all these years, but look, they have five kids. They simply don’t have the money for new ones. ( “Says much about the efficiency of a system when it forces you to wear school uniforms in order to avoid social stigmatisation and yet makes you buy the uniforms yourself, as if richer people couldn’t afford the better ones anyway.” Arthur would say darkly) - lots and lots of second hand shopping. (this is where Arthur got is first leather jacket and Doc Martens from, and yes, this is also when his punk phase has started) - thus his outfits tend to look quite ...interesting. A various mix of old jumpers from the 90s, Dylan’s old plaid shirts and some band t-shirt he got for £5. - one year, he and his brothers were looking for a gift for their mum’s birthday. Arthur didn’t have any cash anymore (yes, it was after he bought the Doc Martens, sacrifies had to be made), so he suggested he tried to bake her a cake. Much cheeper than any other gift. Obviously his brothers mocked him for it (until they actually tried the cake and found out that it actually tasted quite good). Since then Arthur took up baking here and there, and his brothers while not encouraging, do not mock him anymore. They do hope he makes the lemon cake again for Ma’s next birthday though

- SCHOOL ho boy... so the thing is, Arthur is rather clever.

- Academically, he was above average. Acing it in subjects like English and History, being quite good in French (no, he does not bring this fact up often...or...at all), and getting decently by in the rest. Except that one time in PE when he got rowdy with the other boys during a football match (no, not our boy’s brightest moment). - He is intelligent, he even understands subject that he doesn’t particular like, like chemistry. He is quick-witted and sharp tongued and has a natural talent for words and writing. Even rather sophisticated articles and topics do not resent a challenge for him. - Naturally, Arthur toys with the thought of going to university and immediately wants to slap himself for that ridiculous idea. - The thing is, nobody in his family has gone to university so far. Like, he has no, absolute no frame of reference what it entails. - Being from a working class family and then going to university is a scary thing, man. - also, being £30,000 in dept by age 18 is a terror of its own kind - Eventually, he contemplates applying maybe perhaps for the local university and that information seeps through to Alasdair who found it to be a rather ridiculous endeavour. - “Look, you’re shitting your pants about this application one way or another, so why not just go immediately for the top universities instead. If you get rejected, well, at least you got rejected by one of the top universities in the world. But if you get accepted....” “Aw, are you saying you think I could get accepted by one of the best universities in the world?” “I’m not saying anything, you wee little shit. Don’t put words in my mouth. But......being the overachieving know-it-all that you are, you might have a chance.” - For as long as he lives, Arthur’s never gonna admit it but this conversation might have really been the most meaningful thing Alasdair has ever said to him. - And yes, he does apply and yes he does get accepted.

FURTHER HEADCANONS:

- he toned it down by now but the punk never died in him. lots of LGBT+ pins on his jackets too. - that being said, he hates it when people think punk is an aesthetic rather than a political stance (”You cannot be bloody punk and right wing. You just cannot!”) - genuinely likes the taste of beer. Or it might be that it was the cheepest alcoholic beverage he could manage to buy. Situation unclear. - is so prone to get into bar fights oh dear lord when he says “fight me”, he genuinely is 100% down to throw hands even if you beat him bloody - obviously, always votes Labour - will call you a cunt if you’re a Tory - unrelated to anything, but I think he’d wear earrings regularly and they’d be cute - also, has a tendency to dye his hair in crazy colours when he is under pressure - one last thing: oftentimes, Arthur strikes people as incredibly cynic or gloomy or ‘overly engaged in politics’, but growing up the way he grew up, facing so many hardships through the years of which many were directly caused by careless conservative politics...its just hard not to be cynic. My final words here are: this is most definitely not what you were looking for when you sent that ask, anon, but I seriously needed to get this out of my system. If anyone wants to ever talk about my favourite boy Arthur, my ask box is always open.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk<3

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 7

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,142

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, implied starts of anxiety attacks, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: whenever I reread this chapter I'm not sure whether the point of it is clear to the reader or not... but I'm not sure how to rewrite/fix it lol

...

Finally, it was Friday. Between classes, Virgil was pacing quickly down the hall when he noticed Logan exchanging things from his locker. He also saw Roman approaching the tall boy, adorning a mischievous smile. Virgil decided to slip out of sight behind the bustle of the hallway to observe their interaction, staying hidden near the walls.

Roman stood directly behind Logan and tapped him on the shoulder. Logan turned fully around, and upon seeing Roman, he opened his mouth to speak. He was quickly was interrupted, however, as Roman put his hand against the locker at Logan's side, and traced his other hand down Logan's button-up-covered chest. Logan was pinned against his open locker. Virgil couldn't make out the things Roman was saying to him, but Logan looked blatantly... caught off guard, to say the least. His pearly white cheeks were dusted pink. After a few moments, he pushed Roman aside and made to leave, but Roman grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back. They'd switched positions, Logan having put his pale bony arm out to stop himself from falling. Roman was still pulling his tie, smirking and looking into his eyes deviously. Virgil read Roman's lips and thought he saw "-if you're into that." Logan was clearly getting frustrated and forced his tie away, collecting his book bag from the floor and shooing Roman so that he could close his locker. Virgil saw Logan speak, and made out something like "I'll be late for class."

What a couple they made. Virgil felt something heavy growing in the pit of his stomach. Roman had left to go to his class as well, and the halls were becoming more and more empty as students filed into various classrooms. Finally the bell rang, and Virgil felt like he couldn't move to save his life. He started scratching his wrist and felt his breathing become uneven. No, not here, not now. He forced himself to breathe normally and made his way to his next class.

...

Later that day, Patton was lying on Virgil's bed, throwing a bouncy ball up and catching it in a slow rhythm. Virgil was seated at his desk right beside Patton, vaguely attempting to finish his French homework. Not like it'd be due until Monday anyway.

Patton and Virgil had been good friends from a young age, and usually hung out like this around twice a week. Every now and then they'd do something special, but usually it was just being together and talking.

Virgil knew a lot about Patton, more than most people do. He knew about his best friend's current... sticky home situation, and so he never questioned it when Patton came up to him later in the school day with a sorrowful glint in his eyes, asking if they could go back to Virgil's house that evening.

"Do you think they had a nice date yesterday?" Patton said after a minute or two of calm silence. Virgil looked over at him. He'd stopped throwing the ball, and was now inspecting its strange colorful surface, scratching at little flakes of plastic that hung off its seams. Virgil thought to himself how it was so strange that these types of bouncy balls always seemed to practically glow when exposed to light, even though they had no sparkles or shiny qualities about them.

"I guess I don't know. Roman might have ruined it with his overconfidence and ridiculous antics," Virgil finally replied, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. "Especially if he did something like take them to some 5-star family-owned Italian restaurant where you get kicked out unless you're wearing a waistcoat and you have to make a reservation a year in advance," he mused. Patton giggled a little.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mr. Prince," He offered a little quieter than he wanted to. Virgil eyed him with concern.

"You haven't really been thinking much of it, have you?" Virgil turned fully toward his bespectacled friend now, who was just staring blankly, clutching the bouncy ball to his chest. "I mean, I don't think it'll be much of a distraction to our project than Roman already is. And besides, I really doubt that Logan will go for a second round," Virgil dismissed the notion bitterly, and Patton wondered when Virgil had developed such a resentment against Roman.

"Well," Patton started, sitting up and pulling his legs into a criss-cross applesauce, "I'm surprised Logan wanted to in the first place. I don't think he has ever dated anyone, let alone someone so..."

"I know what you mean." Virgil got up to sit criss-cross applesauce with his friend on the bed. They looked at each other and giggled a little, remembering how they used to do this as little kids. They were just like brothers in a way.

Virgil noticed Patton pulling at his ring again, and knew something was up. "Hey," He said, taking Patton's hand. Patton looked up at him nervously from behind his big round glasses, his blonde curls hiding the top trims. "What's up?"

Patton made a noise that was something between a scoff and a sigh, looking away but not pulling away. "I just..." He thought for a long moment on how to begin what he wanted to say without saying what he didn't want to say... not yet, anyway. "I want Logan to be happy. He's a, good friend," A smile curled at the edges of his mouth. "I don't think Roman makes him... unhappy, per se. I think they could be really," Patton pulled his hand back and started fidgeting with his ring again, "close... but I don't know if, them being together will make Logan happy. W-will make either of them happy." He looked up at Virgil then, who was stoic. "I-I mean, i know it isn't really any of my business to worry about. I know I don't really know... anything about their date or..."

Virgil gave a somber smile. "I know what you mean. I feel it too. I mean, they don't seem to... clash correctly," Virgil meshed his fingers together as a visual metaphor. "They don't fit quite right into a relationship box together. And i don't think Roman is enamored with him in the way he says he is, or acts like he is." That bitter tone resurfaced in Virgil's voice again, and Patton took note of it.

He looked up, curls bouncing slightly. "What do you mean by that?" Virgil returned his eye contact, and Patton looked like he was hiding some emotion. Maybe... anger?

"Well..." Virgil thought about what he'd said. Specifically a certain song and a certain moment that had given him the notion that, as much as Roman acted confident, when he was truly falling for someone... he might act quite the opposite. Virgil felt his cheeks heat up, and Patton's expression changed.

"Is there something you know that i don't?" Patton pressed. Not maliciously, but curiosity dripped from his voice. Virgil brought his fingertips to his cheeks and wondered how they'd gotten so hot so quickly.

"Well, I, I just..." Virgil stuttered for a long moment. "I suppose it seems like, i don't know, like, maybe if Roman were really, um, that is to say, maybe, he would be, if he were really, you know, into someone, like that, like, um," He was talking with his hands too much, and Patton noticed his breathing becoming more like heaving. He took Virgil's frantic hands.

"Hey, take a sec," Patton's voice was coated in caramel. Virgil finally made eye contact again. "Breathe, bud," Patton said even calmer and sweeter this time. Virgil's attention suddenly switched to his breathing patterns, which he now noticed were getting rather erratic. He took a moment to reconcile himself.

"Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there... but, as i was saying, or, trying to say," Virgil continued to stumble his way to his point, but with more purpose this time, "... Roman, strikes me as the type, to seem... like he wouldn't act the way he does with Logan if he were in love with him, maybe," He was fiddling with his own fingers now. "but i have a feeling that he might be... a bit of a softie. I mean, what i mean is, he... If he really likes someone I think he wouldn't be able to be his... y'know... confident, jock, witty-remark-shooting self. If that, makes any sense."

"huh," Patton said after a moment of consideration. "Well that's possible. I don't really know honestly. I haven't spent a lot of time with the guy, and whenever i do he always seems to be that same confident person. Well, except with you, sometimes."

"Huh? Me? What?" Virgil was blatantly alarmed. Patton hadn't meant to cause this alarm, so he replied gently.

"Oh, no no kiddo, i just mean like... Y'know how you two are always sorta, bickering or debating or poking fun at each other?" Virgil nodded. "Well, I've just noticed, that sometimes when you make certain comments or whatnot, he sort of... Loses himself. His persona. It kind of falls away, and he seems sort of lost for words." Virgil looked even more alarmed than before. "I-I don't mean that that's necessarily because of you, I just, it's just the only time i have seen him react in that way and... I don't know. It probably happens with him all the time when I'm not around. Or whatever. I don't know. I'm sorry." Patton spoke so quickly that Virgil hardly heard each word. He was just trying to calm himself. Was it so obvious?

"Well." Was all he could muster in reply.

"Anyhow, I think I agree, at least that something seems a little off... I hope it is anyw-" Virgil trained his eyes on Patton. "I mean- I, uh, I-I don't know where that came from! I don't hope, that- I don't hope anything bad for either of them! I didn't- I didn't think, I just-"

"You just have a crush on Logan?" Virgil was still staring at Patton, mischief peeking around the edges of his pupils.

"Wuh-- What!!!" Patton couldn't say anything else; he just grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved his face into it. Virgil heard an indignant "no I don't" from the pillow as he put his hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Patton, buddy. It's okay." Virgil just awkwardly patted the shoulder of Patton's balled up form.

"Does everyone know!?" He looked up finally, his nose running slightly. He wasn't crying, but even so, sometimes when he got emotional or embarrassed his cheeks turned deep rosy and his nose started running. Just another little quirk about him that Virgil always kept close to his heart.

"Well, it is plain as day," Virgil started while Patton's eyes seemed so somehow grow larger, "But Logan and Roman have no clue, as far as I can tell. Logan wouldn't know you liked him unless... well, unless you asked him on a date apparently," Virgil chuckled slightly, remembering the bizarre interaction between Roman and Logan on Monday. "And Roman is always too busy bothering Logan to pay attention to what you're doing," Virgil propped his chin up on one of his hands. "But objectively, it is pretty obvious."

Patton was deflated, blonde curls doing their best to bashfully cover his eyes now. He put his face back into the pillow on his lap. Virgil heard a muffled "I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry?" Virgil rubbed his back now.

"I don't know. I'm sorry to Logan mostly. And to myself." His shrunken form shook slightly. Virgil hoped he wouldn't start crying.

"Ohhhh come on," Virgil awkwardly attempted to comfort him. "No one knows, and besides, it's no big deal. You'll be alright. Most likely, nothing will happen, and you can just eventually move on with your life. And heck, maybe you'll get your chance with him."

Patton's curls shook again as he looked up, eyes the size of the moon. "You really think so????" He asked in earnest. clear snot streams ran down from his nostrils and over his lips now, and his whole face was like a tomato. Virgil laughed airily.

"...It's always possible," he said almost under his breath. He wondered if he was reassuring himself or Patton more.

They sat in silence for a short moment, Virgil shaking his slender fingers through his vibrant purple bangs. I should re-dye my hair soon. The roots are starting to show.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Virgil asked eventually. Patton's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Did your mom get Grasshopper Pie again??? I love that stuff so much!" They got up off Virgil's bed together to head down the hall to the stairs.

"Actually, my mom tried making some herself this time," Virgil shut his bedroom door behind them.

"Ooh, really!?!?! I'm so excited to try it then!" Patton squealed, overjoyed as a small child would be. It was as if all of his troubles had dissipated like seeds in the wind. Another thing Virgil admired about Patton.

He hoped everything would be okay.

[thattimdrakeguy]

i love tim but like. all the shit that happened to him, like all the pain and deaths and whatever, were kinda on him? in that he signed up to b robin bc dick wouldn't do it and he thought it had to be done. and i just get so lost bc it's so hard to find dc fans who portray him as the super dorky kind of a fuckboy? guy that he is in robin '93. like why do people think he's meek or quiet or w/e?? don't get me wrong there are certain fanon aspects that i do like (sneaking out to see bman and robin bc it makes him seem more competent and less middle upper class dipshit?) but like he's not shy his parents sucked and didn't make as much of an effort as they should have but they still loved him. i don't know where i was going w this i think i read too many comics

just to elaborate bc i think i said it wrong: tim was made to be more normal so more kids could relate to him. he didn't have a tragic backstory, and his discovery of batman and robin's identities was almost entirely happenstance. so i feel as though other heroes, particularly the other robins, see him suffering all this loss due to being a hero and are bitter bc like. he chose this. most of em were forced into the life by tragedy, but here's this kid who wanted to help people and gave away his life to this cause. i get it, he's the "squeamish bougie whiteboy" (fav tim quote) but ugh. i am so sorry. beginning to get annoyed with so many people adoring a character that doesn't really exist. i don't think it's gatekeeping to say that if you want to b a comics fan. you should prob read comics.

Cause he’s literally described as meek by one of the dudes that worked on the comic.

But that doesn’t mean he’s shy or anything. It’s used more on the soft spoken part but it doesn’t mean he won’t get assertive when needed. It’s more of a general statement with how he’s generally presented. He was very insecure and often unassuming. And I wouldn’t exactly call him a fuckboy either given he’s the one that doesn’t want sex.

Like there’s a grand middle to things here. Some people think he’s this rebellious, loud mouth, skater punk (Yes he can skate. Yes he likes it. No he’s not apart of skater culture except when to learn about it. Yes I love the Redboard), just because of a few comics, with a few actually being comics that are notoriously well-known for NOT being good representation of the characters in it.

But he’s also not a weirdo, barely able to speak, wimpy, dope, that everyone looks at as a total freak-show for his weirdness.

He’s a generally meek kid, who’s doing his best, is perseverant, and does what is right. He’s more soft spoken, and introverted, but he’s not brain dead and unable to make friends. He’s very awkward quite a bit every now and again, but it’s not his often constant default to be a social mess. He can speak just fine mostly, and even has his moments of confidence. His parents may have loved him but he was still emotionally neglected, and further emotionally abused by his dad later on.

Too many people want to make him like their other favorites by giving him a louder more ass-holeish confident personality. And the others want to make him more clown-ish to be funny and amuse themselves, or to a certain extent maybe they relate to it (though maybe not to the usual degree).

And to me, personally, when the most exciting and interesting part of your character is their backstory. Your character probably really freaking sucks. I’m more about the present of the character.

I don’t think Tim needed some stereotypical grand backstory, because not every character needs a big backstory to be good. Most characters in fiction don’t have a lush backstory but it’s not needed because it’s about the present of the character and how interesting they are.

Tim being a fanboy in a spot where he could let down his heroes, and he’s so insecure and not quite as good as the last that it puts pressure on him. He has to balance a home life with a super hero life, and personal life. He’s dweebie and not exactly super cool like others. He’s got anxiety unlike more confident super heroes. He does his best, and he fails often, and it’s hard on him like he’s a genuine authentic kid. His black and white thinking on heroics is fascinating when put into spots where he has to really question it.

When you put him into any super hero related spot, his point of view and general perspective is always the most interesting one, because he’s a character who never stops thinking about everything, and lets his anxious thoughts get to him, plus being through the eyes of a very authentic kid, it adds a lot that other super heroes don’t get. Either because they’re totally different personality wise, or they’re just one dimensional and don’t have anything interesting beyond very basic archetypes.

And I don’t really recall any other heroes being bitter towards Tim about losing people after his life, besides Dick having a bizarre way of saying Tim should be grateful he still has a dad.

I also don’t really think you HAVE to read the comics to be a fan, or at least all of them, because it’s super impractical to have read everything. But I feel like you should truly know and understand them, or else you’re not actually a fan of what you say you are. You’re just into the made up version people keep talking about.

Which is why I run my blog the way I do, because a lot of people don’t know the actual comics, and I find it better to learn about them.

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Doing something for fun: RPGs about broken anuses.

As promised, after the abomination that was the Sam arc, I am now going to write random posts about more positive/fun things. However, I also decided to add a little twist to them and correlate them in some way thematically to Dobson. E.g. by reviewing a game/show that does all the things Dobson hates/obsesses about/or fails at right.

 And my first entry in that regard is related to a videogame that came out a couple of years ago, based on a tv show Dobson claims to hate. South Park: The fractured but whole.

 Seeing how the game is 3+ years old at this time and there have been tons of reviews & walkthroughs showing how good and fun the game is, I do not really want to cover the plot and all the things that make it great in detail. Lets just say you can really feel that Parker and Stone were heavily involved in the writing of the game, as it is filled to the brim with references to the show and the typical satirical humor of it, that in parts manages to cross the line even further for me than the show. Right from the start you get a very dark but smart social joke and commentary out of the way, when as you set up your characters looks and the difficulty of the game, it is the tone of your skin that decides how hard the game gets. Meaning if you play as a black person, you are having a very hard time. It is not too preachy, just an acknowledgment that yes, in American society, blacks can have it harder compared to white people. Especially when living in a town like South Park, where social standing is pretty low and the police force is inherently corrupt and racist, doing something so outrageously to black people, I do not want to spoil it. Let’s just say it ends in a better Lovecraft joke than any of the shit SJWs did in light of censoring Call of Cthulhu board rpgs.

The overall plot is simple: While last time the kids played fantasy and things escalated quickly as they do in South Park, this time they play superheroes, with two fractions having formed: Coon and Friends vs the Freedom Pals and things escalating just as quickly. What starts off as the hunt for a missing cat to earn a 100$ reward Cartman wants to use to start a multi billion dollar movie franchise just like Marvel, turns soon into the player and his friends having to fight a real crime conspiracy thought up by one of South Park’s most nefarious characters, which also involves genetic mutations, time travel and eldritch horrors. Thankfully you, the “New Kid” from the last game, even after losing all your previous powers thanks to no one playing fantasy anymore, gain new superhero powers, make friends with the South Park kids again and even learn new fart techniques by none other than Morgan Freeman, that help you out along the way. All while also slowly revealing more about your backstory hinted on in the previous game and the tragedy of your dad having had intercourse with your mother.

 Being a South Park and RPG fan for years, I wanted to play this game for quite some time, but only managed to do so recently. And even if I spoiled myself massively over time with cutscenes and major battles online, this game is still fun (thanks in part also to the fact I watched the cutscenes years ago and by now forgot a lot of them).  The turn based battle system is way more interesting than last time by also depending on you positioning the characters on the field in a strategy based RPG style, there are lots of classes to choose and powers to combine (I myself going for elementalist, assassin, plantmancer and blaster currently) and you have a ton of allies in the game. The original cast of the four main boys, Jimmy and Butters has expanded significantly in this game with characters such as SUPER CRAIG, Clyde as the blood sucking MOSQUITO, Token as TUPPERWARE and Wendy as the social media huntress CALL GIRL (yes, that is her name) and they all are fun to interact and play with, with each one having their own unique sets of moves and finishers once again. Even outside of the battle, thanks to the writing, there are always great lines from them to get when interacting or taking missions from them. I especially came to love Tweek and Craig, who are not just decent fighters (Tweek in particular is a great elementalist) , but in this game are also now a couple ever since that yaoi episode from South Park. Helping them reconcile after a bad break up over the course of the game just feels surprisingly nice, mostly because unlike other LGBT celebrating media out there (Korra and She Ra  e.g.) none of the characters crosses some sort of moral line where you question why they deserve to be together (Hello, Catra), it is not heavily handed garbage fishing for brownie points and it is obvious through dialogue and actions they care for each other, even if they are at first going through a bad break up as only South Park could ridiculously portray it.

 Overall, the game is also surprisingly “inclusive” and socially relevant without being preachy about it, if you ask me. From the aforementioned skin color thing, to LGBT representation via Tweek and Craig, the police being involved in a plot that especially nowadays is sadly more relevant than ever (mind you, I do not believe that in real life all cops are bad, but in my opinion bad eggs on both sides certainly led to the current situation in the US and that is all I say) to the fact you can over the course of the game decide not just if you are playing as a boy or a girl, but even something in-between, a cis-/transgendered person and decide your race, religion as well as to whom you are sexually attracted to. Granted, I barely see how it has any bearing on the game’s plot, but I appreciate the following things: a) the inclusion of the possibility to decide on those factors itself, making creating your character even more fun (a basic right others demand for certain games nowadays in all the wrong ways) and b) that the game does not make the biggest of deals about it. See, I am under the impression that often times the most progressive and inclusive thing is to just let the story and personality of a character speak for itself, instead of the fact that it also identifies by a specific gender, sexuality, race or other allignment. In fact focusing on those things on a character only is something I consider ”positive stereotyping”, which for me is just racism in the opposite direction. And if you no think I am going off track here and need to be beaten up by someone who genuinely has some grip on pc culture, don’t worry. This game features PC Principal actually doing an ok job teaching you about microaggressions in his typical PC Principal manner, which in itself becomes a relevant move in future battles and is hilarious to watch. Speaking of the new kid, putting things like your chance to gender identify yourself with it in more detail (which you can also adjust again later on in game if you feel like it) aside, for a silent protagonist he/she/it can have a nice level of debt to it, if you look too much into it.

 Not only does it have a funny backstory explaining its fart and social media powers, there are recurring scenes of the kid’s parents being on each others throat and the kid just silently eating dinner for the night that genuinely feel sad and create sympathy in our little FartLord to the point you just want the kid to go out there, have an adventure and hopefully find a way to change its parents for good, cause it is obvious they love the kiddo, but damn do they need to cut off the substance abuse.

 Storywise you get something out of this game that is way more entertaining and hilarious than the last two seasons of the show combined (FUCK the season of 2019) and game content wise you are also rewarded with a lot of shit, just for exploring the town. Be it you finding hidden yaoi fanart that earns you money, your allies helping you solve puzzles that reward you with exp and new costumes to further customize your outfit, making new friends on Coonstagram by taking selfies with all the major and minor characters of the town, helping Big Gay Al finding his missing cats, stumbling upon Memberberries, forging new artifacts to increase your strength, finding summons… all stuff that helps you not just gain exp and become stronger, but also makes you enjoy going through South Park outside of the main story content. In fact I spend a majority of my first twelve hours in this game only wrapping up the prologue missions and first two chapter of the game, while otherwise talking with as many people in town as possible, exploring the stores and houses, doing side missions etc. just for the fun of interacting with the characters and the world they are part of.

 Now, how does all of that relate to Dobson?

Well lets see…

 Game based on something he hates that has however rightfully more success than he ever deserves, with lots of political commentary and satire for years in its humor? Check.

 Game itself having more of that commentary done right then Dobson in his own comics and story attempts? Check

 LGBT representation via Tweek and Craig as well as Big Gay Al that does not feel too stereotypical despite Al himself being extremely stereotypical in design? Check

 Some pretty decent/hilarious female characters in the game once you know them? (again, Call Girl and Classi, who fucks the L out of the A-S-S) Check.

 Being a style of game he hates for no apparent reason, but executed well (RPGs)? Check

 Thematically focused on superheroes, a trend he is obsessed about, but here both appreciating while also poking good fun at common tropes of it and the marketing of the MCU, in doing so just highlighting how much of a mindless consumer Dobson is? Check

 Being a game where you can also play as any gender and race and its not turned into a “groundbreaking” industry changing feature pandering to minorities that in the eyes of corporations are just a market to exploit, not people? Check

 Heck, if Dobson was not a biased idiot, the game would be perfect for him. It even panders to his toilet fetish in videogames.

 Kid you not: a mini game in the game itself features the possibility to go to every toilet in town and shit in it. The process of defecation itself being a rhythm game and you earning exp from it once you took enough dumps. And considering Dobson once spend hours in Skyrim looking for outhouses, that sounds right up Dobson’s back alley.

 Bottom line, this game is fun. If you like South Park, superheroes and RPGs, this game is perfect for you. And seeing how it has been a few years since it came out, I think it should be possible to get a cheap copy of it somewhere. Go on, play it. But always remember: Never fart on another dude’s balls. It is just not the polite thing to do.

[cyrotoons]

a small update

hey i know its been a while, just wanted to update yall on the situation since i havent been active much

so long story short, this is a really important year for me at school, plus ill be moving schools next year,, plus i have summer school,,,,

ive kinda burnt myself out during winter break drawing (yea ik, my fault my fault, i just wanted to have drawings done in advance in prep for school) and kinda dont have much time left to make up for the sloppily done/incomplete work

ive been working thru my burnout (protip: DONT.) which only made it worse, plus i still have big projects to wrap up to get at least a decent grade

honestly a lot of pressure is on me, mainly cus

1) my teacher is strict

2) i have been known to be one of the kids that do well in school

3) my teacher has put even more pressure on me because this^^^

4) as said earlier, really important year in school for me and im moving schools next year

5) im asian, and those strict asian parent stereotypes are extremely true

6) yay projects, esPECIALLY GROUP PROJECTS THAT ARE DUE REALLY SOON AND WE'VE BARELY HAD TIME TO COORDINATE SHET

7) working on a big class thing, my teacher has put me in charge of something big and i couldnt exactly say no to it

i could go on but to save time typing ill leave it at that for now

school ends in june, though as said earlier i have summer school, which i can only assume takes up july,, and going to a new school, ill need maybe a week or 2 to get my shet together

which leaves about the first 2 weeks of august for myself

how fun, my birthday is near the end of the second week, ill probably be working on something

anyway, assuming i can get some drawings done within those 2 weeks ill probably just really inconsistent stuff

my style's changed quite a bit since ive kinda been suppressing my anime style and been forcing a more cartoony one, so now my style looks a lot more anime

ive also been trying to redesign my persona to make it look a bit more like me, and in the process trying to let my hand do its own thing instead of forcing it to stick to the cartoony style i wanted (when i come back you can probably expect a ref sheet of my new persona)

ive also kinda have this thing where i obsess over certain things for a while, so most often ill be making fanart for whatever id be obsessed with atm,, so if ur expecting more tf2 or portal or some shet theres no guarantee

plus ive been sucked into the genshin fandom,, (i also learned what kinning is and i kin xingqiu sm,, kaeya is also my absolute fav and my dps-)

oh oh also ive been working on this rpg thing for a year now, atm its called oculi dreams, im still in the concepts phase of it so dont expect too much in the near future as im the only one actively working on it

theres probably so much i need to say but honestly ive been crying abt so many things lately this text post would go on forever and just turn into a rant-

ANYWAY TLDR

schools been shet, im stressed, burnt out, a lot of pressure is on me, im behind on schoolwork and have a limited time to catch up before report cards, school ends in june but i have summer school in july, i attend a new school in sept, my art style has changed into the more anime style ive suppressed for a while, im working on this rpg on the side and still in concepts phase, dont expect consistency when im back cus honestly ill just draw fanart for random games im into, the earliest i predict ill be active again is the first 2 weeks of august then i have more stuff to attend to for a while, it is god knows when in the morning and i still have work to do so cya then-

[wincnas]

ok i saw jacob’s face and i had to do it to em and revive an ancient character.....

(JACOB ELORDI, CIS MALE - Have you seen SEBASTIAN MARLOWE? SEB is in HIS JUNIOR year. The ENGLISH MAJOR is 21 years old & is a ARIES. People say HE is PERSUASIVE, CLEVER, SELF-INVOLVED and CARELESS. Rumors say they’re a member of KINCAID SOCIETY. I heard from the gossip blog that HE'S BEEN KEEPING HIS GRADE UP BY BRIBING HIS PROFESSORS. (Olive. Sea creature.)

sebastian marlowe! a 21 year old young lad from one of the richest familes in america. his family owns a production company in los angeles and he spent most of his life around kardashian jenner types

all you got to know is he’s an Asshole Literary type. depressed but also thinks he’s better than everyone

his dad died in a car accident when he was little. so afterwards it was just his mom and his older brother, archer marlowe, and their baby sister

his mom suffered from early onset Alzheimer’s and became pretty verbally abusive when seb was just a kid. she’d forget who they were and become enraged and confused when the nanny came every day to get them to school. his older brother kind of just stood back and let seb take most of it

eventually as her condition deteriorated seb and his siblings were sent to live with their aunt, regina. she never had any kids of her own and she tried her best to make it seem like she was excited for them to be with her but they could always feel the resentment she had

hes all dark and twisty now and his personality is probably best described as like licorice, something only certain people have a taste for

aggressive and scary when he wants to be, but charming for the most part

doesn’t exactly understand sympathy and tact

most likely to be caught fighting like a hellion at the Function

Seb managed to graduate and Regina already had made a sizable donation to Yates University, so lo and behold guess where he ended up

He did not take college seriously at all when he started, was frequently getting in trouble for sex, drugs, you name it. Many people recall the infamous story last year of Sebastian driving a golf cart drunkenly into the campus pond

His antics had one bright side though, and that was that he was extended an invitation to Kincaid Society

He wasn’t planning on going back to Yates last year and was planning on taking it off to, in his words, fuck and party his way through europe

he was forced to come home after a month as his mom’s condition deteriorated and she passed away

Archer is the family fuck-up, even more than his younger brother Seb, so during the funeral Seb’s family made it pretty clear that e’s the one they expect to take over the family company

now he’s a pretty messy, messy student who doesn’t actually ever do much coursework

loves sex and drugs. but also books and reading. he’s a literary fuckboy

would do anything for the vine, and is slowly burning his way through what’s left of his parents’ money. last year he bet someone 10,000 they couldn’t jump off the kincaid roof and he actually paid them when they succeeded.

his aeshteic is mostly red wine, old books black coffee, band t-shirts, aviator sunglasses, bruised knees, marlboro cigarettes

wanted plots!

old flame: someone that seb was never really serious about. they dated around for a few months ( maybe longer ) & maybe he led them on just a little too much. in fact, there’s some discrepancy on the reason for them even breaking up…but now seb has been labeled a cheater.

the confidant: this is a person that has been there for seb ever since freshman year. this person knows him like no one else…and maybe they’re a little confused what happened between last summer now after his mother’s death

the secret fling: they act as if they hate each other, but of course it’s all an act. behind the scenes, the two just can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. truth be told, telling people about their nights together would mean affirming every stereotype. so, they keep it under wraps for now.

fwb: this could be multiple people because lbr, seb is a hoe & lives for sex and flings. maybe they met on tinder, at a party, through a class…but now they’re on his list for booty calls ( which he makes pretty frequently )

enemies: maybe they’re in the same major, maybe they’re rivals within their classes, either way, this person knows how to push seb’s buttons ( and vise versa ).

the one he brought home to mom: so maybe this is the one person seb ever really was in love with. she even brought them home to meet her mother before she died, but for whatever reason they’ve parted ways now.

the bad influence: back in freshman and sophomore year, these two did everything together. in fact, they were the ones usually egging each other on to go to extremes. whenever they were around, trouble was sure to follow. now, it seems like they’re not even the same people anymore.

[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with Christopher Wiacek

Happy Friday! How are you feeling this week? It doesn’t really feel like a Friday to us, since we’re home everyday and the kiddos are out of school, but we’re doing our best to celebrate it anyway with music and biscuits to start the weekend off right. Hope you’re doing the best you can, friend, and enjoy Christopher’s Feature Friday, where shares his perspective on life, loss, and realizing where he truly belongs. Check out what we mean below…

On his love for the Brits: I think my favorite place that I’ve ever traveled to would have to be London, England. I’ve been there twice, once in 2010 and the other in 2016. I’m a massive Harry Potter fan, so a lot of the second trip was based around seeing Cursed Child on the West End (which my friend and I bought tickets to before even buying flights/a place to stay). I’ve always found British things to be weirdly exotic to me, and the history behind much of the culture is what draws me to it. 

On growing up and a sense of longing: I grew up in the suburbs of Syracuse, NY.  Overall, Syracuse is actually relatively conservative, with the exception of the communities that I grew up with. I was a part of the theater community growing up, so most of the people I interacted with from a young age were pretty liberal overall, which translates to my views today. Most of my family and friends have all been super nurturing and supportive, with the exception of a few here and there. 

I went to a pretty large high school (there were over 3,000 kids overall and 900+ seniors in my graduating class!). It’s true what they say though- in this period of my life, high school seems like a million lifetimes in the past. I was a part of the chorus/theater crowd in high school. I had a few good friends, but ultimately never really felt like I was meant to stay in Syracuse for the rest of my life. I had that feeling from a young age, and I’ve always had my eyes on the big city. I fell in love with acting and the arts, and after graduating high school, I went to SUNY Fredonia, which I currently hold a Bachelor's in Fine Art in Acting. Once I graduated, I worked my way up the corporate latter at Wegmans (an amazing supermarket chain in the Northeast), and eventually got burned out by retail. Throughout all of this, I was auditioning, doing shows and trying to live out my best creative life while also paying those adult bills that seem to build up. 

On the importance of community: I think that growing up in Syracuse was very much a melting pot of many different environments for me. I was always extremely curious about everything during my childhood and had an intense imagination. That still is true today, although my imagination/curious nature has been a bit affected by reality. I also grew up doing competitive gymnastics, so I learned discipline at a young age from that. That was four nights a week during the year and on top of regular school. To round it out, I was raised Catholic, though I don’t really identify as a Catholic anymore. I think the importance of community was imbedded in me while growing up in multiple different ways. I always felt like I needed to be a part of something bigger than I was. Growing up with doing gymnastics, theater,  and other activities that kept me active really shaped me on who I am today. 

On one interesting fact: I am ambidextrous and use both my hands equally for daily tasks. My dad is the same way! Sometimes it can get a little annoying because I oftentimes have to stop and think for a split second which hand to use that will have a better result of what I am doing. It’s fun though because my mind works in weird ways where I’m not necessarily bound by one certain way of doing something. 

On what he loves about himself: My persistence. Over the past eight months, I’ve learned to love this part of myself even more than I ever have before. I think I inherit this from my parents, because of my ability to pick myself up off the ground and keep moving forward no matter what has been a driving force for me. I’ve had this drive for practically my whole life, in college getting papers/projects finished, in life, getting DIY projects completed, etc. Overall, the will to keep moving forward no matter what is one thing I really do love about myself. 

“I’ve learned though, that the people who truly love and care about you will stick by your side no matter who you love or who you’re attracted to. At the end of the day, all they care about is your happiness, and that’s how it should be.”

On what brings him joy: This answer has changed so much over the past few years. At first, it was acting/performing (which still brings me a lot of joy when I get to do it), then it was doing DIY projects (I love redoing furniture, building things and HGTV is my JAM).  But as I get older, the one thing that honestly brings me the most joy is my family. I absolutely love my parents and my siblings. We aren’t together as a whole too often, because we all live in different parts of the country currently, but when we are together, it's amazing. 

On coming out: This answer is a bit scary and muddled because I was out to my friends long before I told anyone else. I came out to my family though when I was 26, so not too long ago. I still lived at home at the time and was trying to save up to eventually get my own place. I told my sister first because from what I can even remember about this night, I was at my exes Formal event for his fraternity. I had messaged her and told her over a text,  and she was immediately non-judgmental. To bring it back, I had started seeing my now ex about 4 months earlier and started to feel the pressure to come out because I was getting tired of lying, sneaking and overall just not being truthful to people. I’m sure we all go through this at some point, but I was reaching a breaking point. My story is a bit of a cop-out, to be honest in my opinion. The story goes that I was driving the 45 min to Cornell’s campus to see the guy I had been dating. It was pretty late at night, probably around 11:30 pm, and I got pulled over for speeding. In short, I got a ticket in a small town that no one apart from the people I was going to see knew where I was. I started to get nervous because I was still on my parents' car insurance at the time. They would know eventually that I got a ticket because the bill would increase and they’d be notified etc etc. I decided to use the ticket as my way to do it, and beat them to the punch. I came home the next day and both my parents were in the kitchen. I basically told them that I had gotten a ticket, and they asked why I was in Dryden (the small town) at 11:30 pm on a weeknight. I told them I was seeing someone who went to Cornell, and when they asked who, I told them his name. The initial response was not what I expected…I think the stereotype is that your mom will take it better than your dad, but this is not the case with me. My mom didn’t take it so well, and my dad told me I could date whoever I wanted.  I was a bit surprised, but overall a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. 

On feeling more comfortable over time: My friends had all practically known for a while and were all pretty supportive when I told them. I was also in a relationship at the time too, so I at least had my now ex to turn to and didn’t really care what people thought anymore. My older brother and my younger sister were both actually really cool about it. My parents overall were okay with it in time, but at first, they didn’t really understand. It has taken a while for them to be comfortable with the fact, but I think just talking to them is what helped.  I also came out to one of my good friends in a text message, and his reply was one of the nicest and funniest things. I screen-shotted the message and still have it in my favorited photos on my phone. I don’t think I necessarily faced any harsh backlash, other than just feeling a little uncomfortable talking about all of that stuff with my parents.  On a daily basis, we basically have to come out every time we meet someone new. Luckily for me now, I live in the most liberal/accepting city ever (NYC!), so practically everyone is gay haha. I’m a lot more comfortable with everything now, and it honestly just took some time. 

On learning not to care what others think: I think during that whole process (which is still sort of an ongoing process for me), I’ve learned that other people's opinions just don’t matter at the end of the day. I’ve stopped caring so much about my appearance and how I was acting to “appease the people”, or adhere to the “straight norms” of society. I also have never been single and out until the last 8 months, so it’s been a bit lonely, scary and unnerving at times. I’ve learned though, that the people who truly love and care about you will stick by your side no matter who you love or who you’re attracted to. At the end of the day, all they care about is your happiness, and that’s how it should be. 

On his advice to LGBTQ+ youth: I would tell today’s LGBTQ youth that everything you hear about “it gets better” can be true. Understanding your own identity or feelings can be hard enough without all the fear and anxiety that comes with thinking that you won’t be accepted by the people you care most about. I totally get that, because I lived in that world so so long. It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t come out for so long.  It’s also important to realize that you’re not alone. It may feel that way, but there are amazing resources, organizations, and materials that positively represent the LGBTQ community that you can use to educate the people who care the most about you. If someone truly cares about you and your happiness, they shouldn’t care who you love at the end of the day. Love is love. It’s more important now that ever in our society to be really aware of all of the homophobia, transphobia, and prejudices that are out there, and fight for what you believe in. It may be super scary to come out, but once you do, there’s a magical world that will embrace you. You’ll have a glow-up and the weight of everything will finally start to ease.  

On taking it “one day at a time”: I think that this past summer, the trifecta of obstacles hit me at the same time. I lost my boyfriend, my home and my job, all in a matter of five days. Mind you, this was also in the midst of NYC World Pride. To go onto more detail, I had to find a new place to live because my roommate was not re-signing the lease and nor was I on the last apartment that we shared. It wasn’t a great living situation, and it became official at this time when the lease renewal papers arrived. On top of this, I was dumped by my now ex of almost three years, seemingly out of the blue, or at least it seemed that way to me. It was a massive upheaval in my life, seeing as though I was dumped right before World Pride, and all of our plans sort of blew up. The relationship was very codependent on both sides, so figuring out what I was to do next really threw me for a loop. I had to start my life over from rock bottom and navigate the world with practically an emotional hole blown through me. I was much closer to his family than he was to mine, mainly because of the distance. After trying to cope with this breakup that following weekend and taking a trip home to Syracuse to spend time with family/friends, I came back to NYC on Monday only to work a full day and then get laid off at 4:00 pm. I think at this point, I sort of shut down internally and the old Chris was so beaten down by everything that he was “past a point of no return” and sort of died inside. 

I had lost all of the main pillars of my life, and everything completely had fallen apart in such a short time period. To basically lose the group of people that I considered something like a second family was devastating. Once this happened, I decided to go home to my actual family in Syracuse for a few weeks to take a break from the city and recuperate. In this time, I mainly focused on my body and working out/trying to take care of myself and not fall even deeper into the abyss of it all. While away in Syracuse, I was officially broken up with via text message from the relationship. I had found also out my ex was on Grindr basically a day after dumping me (and from what I’ve found out since he had been on it multiple times during the course of our monogamous relationship too…).  

During this period, I basically started to have a mental breakdown, because I had no idea what to do next. On top of dealing with the normal everyday stresses of living in NYC, I was now having to deal with a really painful breakup, needing to find a place to live AND finding a new job. There were a lot of stressors nagging at me, mainly my source of income. To even find a new place, I had to first find a job that would make me financially stable and form some sort of budget. There were so many pieces of the puzzle that needed to be filled in, that it was honestly mind-boggling.  

It’s been about 8 months now since all of this happened, and it’s been a long and hard road. I had my “Britney” moment and shaved my head because I was sick of dealing with my hair (this actually turned out kind of cool and created a whole new look for myself). I went platinum around Thanksgiving and have kept it this way since. I also had applied to over 75 jobs over the course of the summer and went on countless interviews and phone interviews. I was super aggressive in job hunting and had finally procured a great job at a tech firm in the Financial District towards the end of September. As for the apartment woes, I couch crashed on some close college friends' couches for a few weeks. After that, I found a temporary cheap room in a tiny Brooklyn apartment that had no door, no closet (A challenge, I know, but I made it work!), and roommates I did not know. Money was tight, but I had to do what I had to do to survive in order to stay in the city. I now am living with two great friends in upper Manhattan in a really cute apartment that has a door AND a closet). So, life is looking up! 

For the relationship side of things… It’s been a long road of healing. I must have read every single self-help book in Barnes and Noble, in addition to seeking out the advice of friends and family to talk about it. I even wrote a letter to my ex’s mom. Being that I was pretty close with his family throughout the relationship, I thought it was a respectful thing to do to send a “thank you” letter for all of the things that they did for me while I was dating her son. To be completely honest, I thought I would have heard back with some sort of response or well wishes for the future. Instead, it’s been a cold turkey moment, and I never heard back… nor have I heard from anyone in that whole community that I spent the better part of three years with. I guess it goes to show you that the people who really care about you will reach out, and the ones that don’t care…. won't. Ultimately, I’ve never been out and single at the same time, so it’s been quite the turbulent journey that I’ve had to overcome. I’m still healing, but I’ve pretty much adhered to the “one day at a time” method. 

On his biggest inspiration: My biggest inspiration would have to be my parents. Both of them have persevered over the years in multiple different ways, and have always provided for my siblings and I. They have both faced extreme challenges, but have really set a great example for us growing up. I hope I get to be the type of parents they are to me to my future children. 

On looking ahead: I think in five years, I hope to still have a stable job, a beautiful home and a relationship that fosters into a family of my own. I think I mainly hope to just be happy, regardless of the financial situation I am in. 

On what really matters: Life comes at you fast, and you have to be ready to meet it with perseverance and grace. Otherwise, if you don’t, you can get easily eaten up along the way and lose yourself to the madness of it all.  Stay true to who you are, and trust in the universe that everything always happens for a reason. 

[rayofsunas]

Incendiary Hearts — Chapter One

A/N: the first chapter of Incendiary Hearts. Tell me how you guys feel in the comments, and hopefully, you enjoy it! I won't have an update schedule, I'm going to update whenever I feel like it and probably more than not when I finish the chapters. I'm going to try to make this long for you guys, but I might fail. Also, got7 members will be mentioned, but none have a specific significance or role in the story. Nothing really happened this chapter, it was just an introduction to Y/n's story/past stuff like that. Minho will appear next chapter! Thank you for reading!

Pairing(s): Lee Minho x Reader, Sarai (OC) x Park Jinyoung (got7)

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, angst, fluff, implied alcohol and cigarettes, implied violence, not into detail mentions of blood

Genre: boxer au! non-idol au! angst 

Chapters: chapter directory | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Word Count: 3k (I was like three hundred away from 4k)

Synopsis: after being cut off from all of her parents form of cash flow, nineteen-year-old Y/N Y/L/N must find a way to survive on her own without the help of her parents. A job revelation gone wrong and Y/N finds her self working in the last place she saw herself.

For the first time in your life, you were expected to do everything on your own. All thanks to your frank parents who didn't see a problem with signing your name off of your own bank account, that happened to be a joint bank account, but that was beside the point. It was in your name, but the downside was that it was in your parent's name as well.

And they didn't just stop there. They continued on to sign their names off of the apartment contracts they'd bought for you less than seven months ago, and had made sure everything was in your name. The sewer bill, electrical bill, the monthly rent. It was all in your name now. And you were expected to pay it on the fourth of every month.

They didn't stop there either.

Why?

All because you told them that you were no longer interested in taking a certain career path. It was all pretty childish in your opinion, but that's your parents for you.

Maybe you should've been more careful and not trusting your parents would be more than careful. You'd be safe. At nineteen you still relied on your parents, but now that you really couldn't because they cut you off, you didn't know what to do.

Your whole life, everything's been done for you. Your first job at seventeen was like a family business of sorts. You remember telling your mother sometime in November that you wanted a job. Your friends had been pestering and teasing you, all because you didn't have a job. And frankly, it was bothering you. So you told your mother about your worries and she immediately shushed you and told you she'd work things out.

You never expected her to hand you an application for her own job— actually she didn't work there. God no, your mother hadn't been known to work either, she probably hasn't since she married your father. She and you both relied on your father's money. But she did own a business of her own, without a doubt your father helped her get it started; it was some boutique on the upper east side of Seoul. You've only ever stepped inside once or twice with your mother and that was as a child to go in and collect the money earned each month. She had always said you were welcome to work there and had been telling you for years. But you sort of forgot about it, since that never was a solid job your parents would want for you in the future as an adult. They had other things in mind.

But she offered, basically forced you to work there. You'd be helping customers, almost all of them rich women looking for gowns to wear to fancy parties, weddings, functions that sort of thing. In return, your mother would pocket money into your shared bank account, that you always had the idea would be turned over to your name only as soon as you turned eighteen. You were dead wrong though.

On the other hand, though, you had it easy, much easier than other teens who had to work for their own money and their own materialist things.

You hadn't personally known anyone like that; someone who had to work for their own money, because all of your friends were like you. Rich, spoiled, didn't have to necessarily go out, struggle and find a job on their own without the help of their more than happy to help parents; of course with the use of their money and status in society.

But now with barely enough money in your bank account, bills and rent to pay on the fifth of September, you were starting to panic.

They left you out to dry without a clue as to what to do.

Why? All because you blatantly told them you had no interested in attending law school anymore. Now that, was a family tradition. Your mother had gone to law school, your father too. That's where they met. Your uncles on your fraternal side of the family were all lawyers and your grandfather on your mother's side was a judge. It was kind of expected of you since a young age that you'd either be a criminal defense lawyer—someone who defended the accuser in a criminal case, like murder or illegal doings— or a business lawyer, helping out people who got into sticky situations with their businesses.

But after turning both of those options down, your parents began to quickly take everything away from you. Their reasoning was that if you weren't going to do the one thing they asked of you, you didn't deserve to be benefiting from their money. That's a word for word what your dad harshly stated before he and your mother hand and hand left your apartment, seeming pleased with themselves.

"I guess they were being somewhat generous. They let me keep my apartment and even left a few hundred in my bank account," you nervously chuckled, slamming your computer screen shut before turning to face your cousin Sarai. "But now I'm expected to pay bills. And a few hundred dollars can only go so far when you live in an expensive apartment like this."

"It's messed up," The brunette commented. "But you're right, you have a couple hundred, you could at least pay a few bills." The older girl by only a few months shrugged nonchalantly, trying her best to help you out. "The money will disappear soon. Do you know how much this apartment costs monthly? Four thousand dollars."

"Well, you do have an ocean view, and you live on the upper east side. I don't know what you expected the price to be.”

Looking up from the marble table you were sitting at, you sent a fiery glare towards your cousin. "You're not helping!"

Asking Sarai for help was the best help you could possibly get in a situation like this. She wasn't necessarily the best at giving advice, but she worked on her own, earned her own money, had her own job. A job her rich parents didn't help her get. So she really was the best person to help right now, being extremely reliable and resourceful in that sense. All of your friends had jobs their patents got them, like at their fathers companies or mothers side businesses like bakeries or boutiques. They wouldn't know how to help, they were being fed cash flow from their parents, and didn't know the real struggle like Sarai did. Just like you, your friends sadly were the stereotypical rich kids of the block.

Suddenly panicking you hurriedly spit out, "Sometimes I think they did this on purpose. Do you think they'd purposely screwed me over just to watch me suffer?!"

Sarai waved you off as if telling you that you were overreacting. "Of course not! That's nonsense," she voiced her opinion. "They're just angry. They'll come around, eventually."

"I owe money on the fourth next month, that's only rent. And then the added appliance bills and electrical bills, that's just a few thousands right there," Right now was not the time to panic. But you were new to this, literally like four hours new and didn't like being thrown into situations where you felt like walls were coming down; you felt exposed.

"I need food, necessities, I'm lucky if I even survive through this month!" The older girl scoffed as she rolled her brown eyes. "You'll survive. You're just going to have to do it the harder way."

"Sarai, what am I going to do? I have zero working experience. No one will want to hire me." You cried out, wishing you hadn't been so reliable on your parents in the past. It made you sheltered and not know how to comprehend what to do on your own. "Maybe you don't need experience. I heard about a gym or something like that a while back, they pay you decently if you help train people."

"A gym?" You've never been to an actual gym, always too lazy to work out. The closest to a gym you've ever been too was gym class in school... Obviously, those two gyms were completely different from each other.

"Yeah, I think. Though, I could be wrong." She shrugged again, her glossed lips twisting into a frown as she began to think thoughtfully.

"Where did you hear this from?" You were skeptical. Although Sarai was very reliable, sometimes her facts weren't actually facts. For all you knew this gym could be some entirely different workplace or a place that wasn't even hiring if it was real.

She was more reliable in the sense that she'd be there for you if you asked, like emotionally; She'd sympathize with you. After taking a sip of her glass of water, she opened her mouth to say, "Jinyoung, he just left his job, and was looking for a new one. Said something about a gym on 20th street on the Southside." You nodded thoughtfully, hoping she was actually right and that what her boyfriend had told her was factual. But then you thought once more and went even deeper, realizing that the Southside of town wasn't in the best conditions. There are a lot of bar and street fights at night, people could get mugged if in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Actually, I don't know if I should."

She deadpanned giving you a skeptical glare as if wondering if you were completely sane.

"...Don't you need a job?"

"Yes, but it's dangerous! I'll get mugged.

"Carry pepper spray." She reached into her purse beside her on a bar stool, pulling out a tiny sized purple pepper spray container. "Squeeze this when your target is in range, it'll blind them briefly and you'll be able to getaway. It burns like a bitch, so be careful to not accidentally spray yourself."

A smirk formed on your face at what your cousin had said, tipping you in on what sounded like had happened to her. "How would you know it burns?" You questioned teasingly.

Her dark chocolate eyes swirled with irritation. "I may have accidentally sprayed myself after not realizing it was pointed in the wrong direction."

"Wow. What a dumbass." You cackled annoyingly.

Her pointer finger pointed at your still fork, threateningly "This dumbass just helped you out!"

You couldn't help but scoff at your favorite older cousin, who was more like a best friend to you than anything. "Yeah okay," you continued, "I guess I could always check it out," you let out a sigh, afterward continuing to mutter, "Thanks Sarai."

"Don't thank me, I'd like to think you would help me in a situation like this." She smiled wholeheartedly, happy to of been able to help you a bit, also taking advantage of the moment like always to try and tease you. "Shut up, of course, I would help you!" You jumped up quickly to punch her arm, which immediately retracted to her chest in a form of protection from your abuse and maybe in a way of hoping to reduce the amount of searing pain she was feeling.

"For someone who I know has never been to a gym before, you hit really hard." She hissed, arm threateningly raising to punch your own arm mockingly, but her hand never came down on your arm like she had made it look like.

"You know me so well," you said. "Thank you for helping me. It means the world." All teasing and jokes aside, what Sarai was doing seriously did mean the world to you. Without her help, you're even more lost than you already felt. It was a start. She was helping make the start possible.

"Of course. I'll text you the address later alright? Try and get some sleep, stressing over things won't help. It'll result in a mental breakdown." She approached you, hands no longer balled into fists in an attacking way, instead her arms were outstretched lovingly, wanting to embrace you.

You accepted that embrace. It was one of the warmest embraces you'd ever received from someone in tough times. Something you were longing for. Whenever something went wrong in your life, your parents gave you hugs of course and they tried to show you how much they loved you.

But what they showed you was a wad of cash and their hugs were short-lived, not very comforting and lacked warmth. They could be compared to the chilly, vast arctic tundra; vast in the sense that they always seemed detached, their hugs not making you feel safe, at home or warm at all.

"I know, I know. You remind me all of the time." You groaned childishly, she patted your back harshly. "Shut up, I'm looking out for you. I love you, alright?"

You nodded feeling the warmth disappear altogether before she disappeared off towards the front door.

"Love you too. Drive safely!"

-

The next morning was eventful, to say the least. You woke up like always, got dressed and began stressing like always. You tried to follow Sarai's instructions, which at the time were not to panic or stress, but you were worried, you were nervous, slightly terrified. So how could you not do those things?

What if you were rejected? What if they weren't looking for anyone right now? What if the place was some abandoned where-house or shack, something like that. What if it was worse? A place where gangs or cults resided... practicing their cult-like situations and worshipped bloodshed upon people like it was God.

You seemed to think of what if's all day, and were stuck in a time loop of them, that is until you eventually pulled up to the address google maps had sent you too, with the help from Sarai who had given you the address beforehand.

You gathered your keys and phone in your hands and with one last stressful sigh, you hopped out of your car with ease and stood on the sidewalk.

But there was a problem. All you were staring at was an abandoned brick building, one that looked like it hadn't been used in years. Around you wasn’t much of a street, at least it wasn't a street like you had expected in your mind last night.

You expected a street jammed packed with shops, maybe a Grocery Store or Quick Mart, then the Gym that Sarai had briefly gone into detail about; seeing as she didn't know much about the place either.

But when you glanced down the dead-ended street labeled 20th street, you realized nothing lined either side of the sidewalks. No buildings, no properties, nothing, zilch. Just dry dust blowing when the wind waved by, and not a single sign of an oxygen source; neither trees or bushes. No wonder by the air seemed to thick and dry, and made you feel less relaxed the more you breathed in its stuffy contents.

Frankly speaking, it looked like an unfinished construction site, maybe an abandoned one at that. A place that was supposed to be home to businesses or something, but thrown away for some reason.

It was all too weird. Something out of a horror movie. It definitely didn't make you feel even better about this possible job.

But what shocked you most was when you eventually turned to stare down the red and brown brick building, you spotted cars, motorcycles, and a single bicycle off to the side in a dirt like area, that seemed to mimic a parking lot or serve as said purpose.

With no other buildings or businesses on this dead-ended street, you came to a realizing maybe this place was in occupancy. I mean, why the hell would thirty or so vehicles with the exception of the black bicycle, be stationed beside the only building on the empty wasteland street?

When you came back to reality, you distinguished a boy standing near a door that lead inside the warehouse. You began approaching him, assuming he at least had to know about this place if he was standing outside, guarding the door. When you eventually came face to face with him you realized he wasn't particularly large in stature, and seemed rather short compared to other males you'd been around. He wore all black and glared you down the minute you stopped in front of him. The bridge of his nose was dotted with freckles, and his hair was a golden blonde, unnatural looking but still gave off the aura that it could be his natural hair color.

If his cute looks weren't threatening in any way, his voice definitely set the mood. "Who are you?" The boy didn't sound older than twenty years old, maybe even close to your age if you guessed right. But his deep voice shocked you completely.

You gulped, eyes averting down nervously. What was this... Was this how job hunting was? Was this how applying to a job was... You're out of nowhere questioned what your name is and scared into answering?

Gulping once more you bravely opened continued, "My name is Y/n—"

The blonde eyed you skeptically. "I've never heard that name around here before." He mumbled thoughtfully, dark brown eyebrows knitting closely together as if he was expecting a roster of familiar names. 

You wanted to rudely hiss something along the lines of, 'of course you've never heard my name before. We've never met until now.'. But his voice worried you. Plus he was a stranger stationed outside an odd-looking building, on a street that barely could even count as a street in your eyes. There was no telling what he could do, no matter how small, young, and adorable he appeared.

"Is this the gym?" You took a step back hoping to find a sign somewhere along the brick walls but didn't find anything besides a white spot that without a doubt was seagull poo.

"Gym?" You thought he was pulling your leg, rubbing off as mischievous and acting like he didn't have a clue in the world as to what you were talking about. You just laughed nervously, your hand waving him off. 

"Yeah, I heard from someone this place was a gym." After he seemed to be thinking it over, the unnatural blonde nodded and opened his mouth as he let out an 'Ah'.

"You're one of those." He scoffed spitting near your foot, making you shiver at his disgusting behavior.

You asked yourself, "One of those..." but he ignored you completely, stepping aside all together allowing you access inside. "Go down the stairs off to the right, find CB. He's a blonde. Shouldn't be hard to miss."

"Uh, thanks, I guess?" You nodded thanks to him, continuing to briskly step by the young boy who smelt of cheap alcohol and possibly cigarettes. You just hoped he wasn't the one drinking or using them, and prayed that it was someone who he previously had been around before you arrived.

One thing you didn't miss though before fully entering away from his sight was that you could've sworn the freckled boy muttered, 'they're going to chew her up'

You didn't know what that meant at all. But it put you even more on edge and made you extremely nervous. You wanted to back down, but you were set in a state of determination. You needed this job. If you turned back down, you didn't know what else you could do.

Working at a gym seemed easy enough right? Unlike other jobs out there. Plus it wasn't like you'd just willingly go back to your parents' ways. They weren't looping you up, not anymore.

You climbed down the seemingly long metal stairs, finding yourself getting closer to wherever this CB guy was. You knew you had to of been getting close because you heard chanting and yelling from many different voices and people. The stairway was dark, the only source of light coming at the very bottom and straight ahead, which is where you heard the yells coming from.

You kept hearing voices chant 'ringer!ringer!ringer' and 'hyunjin!hyunjin!hyunjin’.

And that just made you feel even more worried. What the hell was going on? Should you turn back?

As much as you wanted to turn back though, your feet kept gliding down the stairs out of curiosity: and when you finally stepped into the light, you were shocked at what you saw. A huge crowd, couldn't be more than two hundred or so men and women, possibly teenagers with how young that blonde looked back upstairs. They were the ones chanting, yelling and cheering, but for what? Or rather so, for who? They all seemed to be circled around something that was positioned in the middle of the sweat smelling room.

You heard a bell before you saw anything different from the sight you were already seeing, and then you watched as in the middle of the circle, a guy with seemingly long hair stood up, his pale chest, coated with little droplets of what looked like red splotches was exposed to you, and his eyes were mischievous as he scanned over the crowd with said brown orbs. A distinctive feature on him in your opinion was a dark mole under his left eye.

His bloody fist was raised in the air by a shorter guy dressed in black who stood beside him proudly, in a way that made up believe he’d just won something. His gorgeous face had a scratch that was bleeding above his right eye

He looked like he'd just gotten into a bloody fight, and he came out victorious...

Like I said earlier, you've never been to a gym before. But you knew for sure that this sort of brawling or whatever it was didn't happen at gyms.

So what the hell is this place?

[jamiebluewind]

Fantasy High Theory: Fabian has an eating disorder

TW: eating disorder symptoms, anorexia symptoms, abuse mention, death mention, violence mention, gun mention, alcohol mention, drug mention, trauma mention, smoking mention,...

Word Count: about 2100

I know this is a big assumption to make with what we have, but I couldn't ignore all the data and the warning signs. In fact, I think that even if Fabian does not have an eating disorder at this time, he's certainly at risk for one and needs the issues addressed before it gets worse.

Before I get into it, let me remind everyone that I am about to talk about a very heavy subject. Remember, stay safe and consider the warnings before you continue. You can always message me for a summary of the red flags or for an edited version if you need it. I would rather you be safe than to have you're like on my theory.

Okay? Okay. Let's start by defining a few things.

Eating Disorder: Any of a range of psychological disorders in which people experience severe disturbances in their eating behaviors and related thoughts/emotions. People with eating disorders typically become pre-occupied with food and/or their body weight/shape.

ARFID: Avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder is an eating disorder characterized by eating very little food and/or avoiding eating certain foods. It does not include having a distorted body image (as occurs in anorexia nervosa) or being preoccupied with body image (as occurs in bulimia nervosa). People with avoidant/restrictive food intake may not eat because they lose interest in eating or because they think eating has harmful consequences. They may avoid certain foods because of their color, consistency, or odor. When it becomes more severe, it can cause substantial weight loss, slower-than-expected growth in children, difficulty participating in normal social activities, and sometimes life-threatening nutritional deficiencies.

Anorexia nervosa: Diagnosed when patient BMI (body mass index which is a rule of thumb measuring body size vs mass) is low for their age and height. Severity is classified as mild (BMI of greater than 17), moderate (BMI of 16–16.99), severe (BMI of 15–15.99), or extreme (BMI of less than 15). Hallmarks of anorexia include limited food intake, excessive monitoring of the calorie and fat content of food, fear of being “fat”, problems with body image, denial of low body weight, excessive exercise, food rituals, cold intolerance, mood swings, sleeping issues, chronic fatigue, distorted body image, and many more. Eventually, the body goes into starvation which cause a lot of bad symptoms.

Atypical anorexia nervosa: All of the criteria for anorexia nervosa are met, except the individual's weight is within or above the normal range.

Again, ANY BMI can still mean a person has an eating disorder. It is NOT confined to those that are underweight. The BMI is only there as a red flag and to help classify severity of anorexia. I want to make this very clear, not just for my theory, but for the people reading this who recognize parts of it in themselves or others. I'm about to give an example that gets... personal in order to show that people who don't fit the stereotype of being underweight can still have an eating disorder. How personal? My own.

I am overweight to obese (depending on the doctor and the range). I don't exercise much. I eat pretty well around friends. But I have an eating disorder. I just... don't get hungry most of the time, so I forget to eat a lot more often than is healthy. A LOT more. I've been to the hospital a few times due to dehydration. I've collapsed because I literally forgot to eat for two or three days. I could have died at one point because despite being overweight, I was eating so little that things just... stopped working. Again, I was overweight. People and doctors thought I was just lazy. I was told to eat less and exercise more. Even my blood tests came back fine until one day, they didn't. And even then, nobody listened. Somebody doesn't have to look how you expect them to in order to have a problem. Also, don't be afraid to reach out for help if you feel like some of this hits close to home or someone you know is showing symptoms. It's okay to need help.

So remember, eating disorders can affect anybody with any body. The important thing is to be kind, supportive, and encourage professional help such as cognitive therapy.

****

Now to list Fabian's risk factors (I only listed the ones I believe he has)

Dysfunction family: This is a big risk factor for Fabian. His father is chaotic evil and (despite loving his son) puts massive pressure on him and tries to make him conform to his ideal for most of Fabian's life. Fabian has seen his father abuse his crew and snap at the drop of a hat. His mother has been a heavy alcoholic and mostly absent his entire first 16 years and when she gets off alcohol, she puts an extreme amount of pressure on him herself.

Abuse: This is another big one. His parents have been verbally abusive, emotionally abusive, neglectful in a variety of ways, controlling, manipulative, isolating, and his mother rested his food intake. He could have also been physically abused in the guise of sparing.

Genetics: Fabian's mother is very slim. Using images of weights and comparing it to her shape, she in fact fits the underweight shape which may or may not imply a genetic component depending on if the normal body shapes are different for high elves or not.

Exposure to warped body ideals and weight stigma: Exposure to "body ideals" in places like the media (especially if at a young age) can increase body dysfunction and eating disorder risk. Weight stigma can make this worse due to discrimination and stereotyping based on a person’s weight. Fabian has actually been exposed to this a lot due to his father and the crew. He's a kid around very strong muscular people and he feels pushed to get stronger to live up to his dad. It's also very easy to imagine that crew members who were not strong or active enough got a very bad reaction from his father, which would reinforce the ideal. Some of this is conjecture, but it's not so far outside the realm of possibility to be impossible.

Participation in sports: He's on the Bloodrush team and is a fencer.

Pressure to have a certain body shape from family: I think this risk factor is there too, especially when his mother takes over training.

Bullying/Teasing: Fabian was actually bullied by peers when he first starts school, but I believe his parents were bullying him long before that.

Trauma and PTSD: Oh boy, is this solid. He was most likely traumitized by his parents before high school. He saw two new friends die the first day of school and nearly died himself, only saved by Riz. He watched two teachers die by gunshot right in front of him (and a staff member killed by bludgeoning). Fabian mentions having nightmares about Riz killing Daybreak which might have been due to it being via gunshot. He was forced to kill people due to the situation he found himself in. The person who was supposed to have been helping them the entire time (Biz) turned out to be an evil dude who trapped one friend in a palimpsest and wanted to capture another. He was stuck in jail for weeks! His family was attacked, his home was damaged, and his dad died (and by his hand no less). He and his friends almost died to a dragon. That's a LOT of trauma for a kid to try to process and Jawbone mentioned that he never came to visit him, so he probably dealt with a lot of it on his own.

Low self-esteem: This is unfortunately something else he has. Despite all the bravado, he doesn't know how to be a friend or have people like him for who he is (instead of who his parents are or how much money he has). He tries to put up a cool front, but he judges himself very harshly.

Perfectionism. One of the strongest risk factors for an eating disorder is perfectionism, especially self-oriented perfectionism, which involves setting unrealistically high expectations for oneself. If they fail to meet their high expectations, the person becomes very self-critical. Fabian has this type of perfectionism.

History of an anxiety disorder: This one is reaching, but possible. People often show signs of an anxiety disorder (generalized anxiety, social phobia, OCD,...) before the onset of an eating disorder and Fabian stays on edge a lot, worries excessively, puts up a front, and deals with nightmares.

Substance abuse: Fabian has had alcohol and drugs before the age of 16, his parents almost encouraging it. He smokes regularly. Addiction runs in his family as well with his mother being an alcoholic and his father doing multiple drugs. Neither parent even hides the fact that they take drugs and drink alcohol to excess, the crew probably took drugs and got drunk in front of a young Fabian, and Bill offered drugs to his friends upon meeting them.

History of using weight-controling methods and dieting: Fabian exercises a great deal. He skips meals. He has a limited number of things he will eat. There is a lot of evidence to back this up.

Limited social networks: This was a HUGE issue before high school. Fabian was very isolated. He had no friends, limited social activities, and lacked proper social support. Recently, he's been skipping class exclusively which on top of smoking a lot, puts distance between him and other people.

Long story short? Our boy is at risk. Big time.

****

List of common signs of eating disorders (including anorexia)

Limited food intake: Seen when he has mostly protein smoothies, his mother tries to give him limited rations, and when he refuses to eat with his friends more and more as the series goes on. The first incident of it was in Cool Kids, Cold Case where Fabian refused the food he was offered on two separate occasions, passing it to Riz both times. Once was after the battle with Daybreak and being stuck at the police station a good while. The other was when the teens were hanging out at Riz's appartment when Sklonda got takeout. Fabian's mom also makes him earn food as seen in the live show. This mentality could have very well been internalized, even with Cathilda there to try and give him more.

Excessive monitoring of the calorie and fat content of food: He worries about empty calories, how fattening something is, and removed the cheese from a slice of pizza and dabbed the oil

Fear of being “fat” or in a shape that is not the ideal: In episode 1 of season 2, he is very preoccupied with staying trim and tight.

Excessive exercise: He exercises who knows how long every morning plus for Bloodrush plus the times outside of that

Food rituals: This is interacting with food a certain way (like small bites or how it's prepared) which causes anxiety when not followed. The pizza event might be one, but it's hard to say without a pattern.

Sleeping issues: Fabian has issues with sleeping, dreaming, and nightmares. His father confirmed this and he himself mentioned his nightmares.

Weight loss: By comparing his previous official artwork with his new official artwork, it's easy to see that Fabian looks visibly thinner. He's also VERY cut. (very defined muscles requiring very little fat) for his age. He was muscular last year sure, but his chest and abs are much more defined this year. Being that cut means that despite how muscular Fabian is, he has been eating less and probably doing fat burning exercises, getting a lot of his nutrition from multivitamins and whey, and would have less energy than normal.

Negative energy balance/chronic fatigue: This is only a possibility, but it deserves being mentioned. If this is going on, it puts a spin on some of Fabian's other actions in season 2, episode 1. He showed up late on move in day and didn't really move anything (just carried a book), which might have been a character thing, but could have also been because Fabian is running on empty and capable of things like adrenaline fueled busts of energy, but otherwise dealing with low energy and fatigue.

Also, Fabian is smoking now which works as an appetite suppressant as is common among those with eating disorders.

(Signs with no evidence as of this post: problems with body image, denial of low body weight, cold intolerance, mood swings)

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TLDR: Fabian is showing a lot of symptoms of an eating disorder and also over a dozen risk factors. The number of both is substantial enough to see a pattern. Enough that I sincerely hope that it's acknowledged during the season because if Fabian does not have an eating disorder, he is at substantial risk of developing one.

PS: I know it's data heavy, I might have missed a few things, and it could be totally wrong, but I seen enough there that I thought it might make for a solid theory. D20 is no stranger to heavy subjects and I think if they do cover it, they will do a good job (as always). If they don't, I still learned a lot making this theory and maybe a few of you will as well. ^_^