#I can see them having a romantic fling in their later adult years- but it wouldn’t be anything serious- lol

[toph-bi-fong]

No but like, I know Toph and Zuko wouldn’t work out romantically in the context of the actual show- and that sort of thing would only happen in fanon or an AU. And preferably when they’re both grown ass adults.

But I still often think about the missed potential for their friendship dynamic. Crazy how the two with so much in common have little interaction time together.

[airasilver]

Yes! Thank you! It's weird and ugh.... He literally is in her life from when she was a little girl. If they hadn't been growing up together maybe it be different but this is not a good pairing. I just can't see it.

This Buffy Season 8 Romance Still Gives Fans the Major Ick

BY

CASEY CONNOR

PUBLISHED 5 HOURS AGO

The canonical comic series Buffy the Vampire Slayer contained a lot of controversial elements, but perhaps none more than this relationship pairing.

Feature Image: Left, Buffy looking shocked from Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series; right, Xander embracing Dawn from Buffy Season Eight comic

Romance has always been a part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with fans approving and disapproving of different match-ups, while shipping different characters together. However, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight, Dark Horse Comics' canonical continuation of the iconic television series, featured an unexpected pairing that remains one of the franchise's controversial decisions.

✕

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight #28 – by TV series writer Jane Espenson, with art by Georges Jeanty – revealed the shocking romantic entanglement of Buffy's younger sister, Dawn Summers, and her close friend Xander Harris.

Dawn and Xander sit across the dining room table from each other in Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Dawn, introduced through mystical means in Season Five of the show, had a teenage crush on Xander, revealed in Season Five, Episode 2. Now both adults, Season Eight put them together as a couple, in a move many readers found controversial.

RELATED:

Spike's Best Endgame Romance Was [SPOILER], Not Buffy

A "Not Unweird" Love Story

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight, Buffy realizes she has feelings for Xander just as he starts dating her sister Dawn

Xander and Dawn first kiss in Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight #28. While their friendship seemed to continue in the comic book continuation of the show, this reveal baffled fans. At the time they fell in love, Dawn was a legal adult and there's only a 5-6-year age difference between the two. However, Xander had always been portrayed as an older brother figure to Dawn; further, there was no buildup to their romance. Season Five of Buffy saw Dawn inserted into the Summers family in an iconic twist; the season would eventually reveal that she was in fact a mystical object, given human form, made precious to the Slayer, so Buffy would protect her at all costs.

As even Xander admits at the onset of their romance, it is "not unweird." Another reason for the weird fan feelings about this pairing is that it becomes an important part of the canon. The Buffy in-continuity comics concluded with Season Twelve; in those five seasons, creator Joss Whedon doubles down on the romance, perhaps to show that this wasn't a careless fling or that he really had an overarching plan. In Season Nine, because Buffy destroyed the seed of magic in the world, and Dawn was created from magic, Dawn starts to disappear. Xander betrays his friends to make a deal with the Big Bads to restore magic and save her.

This Controversial Pairing Still Upsets Fans

Buffy the Vampire Slayer canon comics, Xander and Dawn together

As it turns out, the return of magic "resets" Dawn's emotions, and she only feels a crush for Xander, not love. In Season Ten, the new Big Bads have opened a portal to a hell dimension that Dawn, as The Key, can close – but only from the other side. Xander goes with her during her sacrifice, and she falls in love with him again there. By Season Twelve, they live together and have a child named Joyce, named for Dawn and Buffy's deceased mom. Years later, this pairing is still very divisive in the fandom. Subsequent seasons added depth to the pairing, but it remained difficult for many readers to accept.

Xander was around for Dawn's (imagined) childhood and was that big brother figure, gives some fans – as Buffy might say – the wiggins. Xander also carried a torch for Buffy for years, and developing feelings for her younger sister is a messy situation; Buffy Season Eight, and subsequent seasons, rely on this for narrative tension. One of the reasons romances in Buffy the Vampire Slayer draw in so many people is that these characters feel real, and real relationships can be messy and nuanced. Feeling strongly about these characters reflects the writing and art that went into them over the past thirty-four years. Even an icky romance shows the deep love held by fans for this series.

[cjjohansson]

series masterlist - masterlist

natasha romanoff x reader

summary; you and natasha move forward in your relationship.

word count; 3.1K

warning; SMUT 18+. the full shazam.

an; this chapter contains smut, please read at your own risk. 18+ only

—————————————

♡ you said forever♡

chapter 6 ; i promise with all my heart i love you

— two month later —

the past two months had been a rollercoaster. you and natasha had yet to have fallen out, it shocked everyone how quickly you both fell back into a rhythm of a relationship again after so long. within the first month you had flown back over to the UK with everyone in sorting out your things in your house, you made the decision to move back to the compound. alia was very happy about not having to move back to where she called home, it felt normal moving back. tony managed to sort everything out to be moved and within 2 weeks all of your things were safety confided in the compound. and just like that you were settled back into the compound on yours and nats shared floor. tony had refurbished one of the offices on your floor into a room for alia rather than her staying in your bedroom.

you loved watching alia and natasha interact, it was something that you couldn’t help constantly taking pictures of. you don’t think you had ever seen natasha actually fully worn out before but after some days of alias extreme excitement of going out and doing things with you and nat, you often ended up finding alia asleep on nats chest as natasha slept completely still underneath her. no one believed they had ever seen natasha smile so much other than when she was with alia.

for the first month you had slept separately from natasha, you both wanted to ease back into the elements of your relationship slowly - well as much as you could seeing as you both had alia to look after together- mainly because it was new again but also so alia could adjust more to everything happening around her. you didn’t want to overwhelm her more than you could only imagine you already had.

you wanted to talk to natasha about easing into some other parts of your relationship again but you didn’t know how to talk about them. you hadn’t really had any time just the two of you, alia was always around. you had kissed a handful of time in the past two months but you felt yourself wanting more. you had been without physical contact and attraction that you wanted for 4 years. but how can you go about them conversations when you always had a 3 year old on your hip, it wasn’t easy so you went to wanda, alia and nat were out for the day while you chose to stay at the compound. you made your way to wandas floor in hopes of getting out some much needed girl talk.

——

“i don’t know what you’re afraid of y/n, you’re basically back together so just kiss her? wow i never thought id be having this type of conversation with an adult who literally has a child”

“how can i just kiss her when alia is always there wanda? hey im 4 years out of practice just give me a break okay, its hard trying to put myself back out there especially to someone who knows me”

“how about i have alia tonight. me, her and vision can have a much needed sleep over. is that okay? then you can have some alone time with nat, is that what you want?”

flinging yourself into wandas arms and thanking her over and over with a kiss to her cheek, she laughed as you ran back over to the elevator shouting ‘ill bring her round with some stuff when she is back with nat thanks wands love ya!’ and you were already on your way back to your own floor.

——

you had been busying yourself in your kitchen for hours trying to make you and natasha a nice romantic dinner, you had already showered, shoving your hair into a messy bun and changed into some comfy pyjamas hoping for a chilled evening with her.

“MOMMMMYYYYY”

alias voice comes shouting behind you as you quickly turn in her arms to catch her as she comes sprinting right at you. your laugh echos around the room as natasha follows behind taking in the site of the table laid for only 2 people. your tiny conversation with alia about her day has you telling her she will be spending the night with wanda and vision has her cheering, the relief leaves your body as you tell her to go change into some pyjamas and grab whatever she wants to take down. natasha watches the whole interaction with a smile on her face as you turn back to the stove stirring the sauce for dinner. its as if nat suddenly feels an edge of confidence flow through her as she walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist to pull you flush against her body. you find yourself choking on a moan as you feel her hand drawing circles on your stomach. soft whispering in your ear has you leaning your head back onto nats shoulder.

“i’ll take her down to wanda, when i come back i’ll quickly shower and then im all yours detka. you just stay here and keep looking pretty in these shorts”

her hand moves from your waist to squeeze your arse cheek as she throws a smirk over her shoulder as alia runs into her arms and they walk to the elevator. your heart beats out of your chest from natashas words and actions. you knew she had been wanting to spend some time with you alone but you hadn’t expected her to be as open as she was, your face blushes as the images pour through your brain of what could happen tonight.

——

“thank you for dinner it was wonderful babe”

she stands from her seating moving over to take your empty bowl from in front of you as she leans down to press a kiss onto your cheek. you watch as she makes her way back to the kitchen and puts everything in the dishwasher to be washed later.

“wanna watch a film baby?”

you find yourself not even being able to produce words as you mindless nod in her direction and take her hand that is outstretched in front of her as she drags you over to the couch in front of the tv. her soft hands makes your whole body heat up, the sight of her toned arms in her tank top has you flushing like a teenager with a crush all over again. you can only shake your head in hopes of getting rid of the thoughts going through your brain.

you both find yourself settled into the couch, your side pressed sideways against natashas as her arm fits comfortably over your shoulders and hovers over your boobs.

you hadn’t been paying any attention to the film whatsoever. not when you were this close with natasha and all you wanted todo was attack her with kisses. your body seemed to be vibrating with adrenalin just being next to her.

lips on your neck has you stiffening first, not expecting natasha to have made a move. your body relaxes as she continues kissing up and down your neck slowly. your head moving to the side to give her more access. natashas hand sudden moves down the front of your top as she pulls you further back into her by your boob. your moans fill the room instantly, you hadn’t been kissed or touched like for so long you felt as though you could cum just from this.

you turn around in her arms, straddling her lap as her hands fell to your ass. you moaned out at the object between her legs as you pressed yourself into her. you kissed her neck harshly hoping to leave your marks as she pushed her hips up into yours.

your mind only felt full of natashas, how her hands felt on your hips as you continued to grind against her and kiss her neck.

you move your lips to hers as you start to kiss slowly, you can feel all of the love pour out between you both in this moment. the moment that feels soft and delicate sudden shifts becoming hot and desirable as she pushes her tongue in your mouth.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n”

natashas smirk only seems to rail you up as you move your hands to your hoodie, pulling it off over your head. the sight of you has natasha moaning as she moves her hand from your hips and brushes her thumb over your nipple, you can only whimper in need as your hips start moving frantically on top of her.

you lean forward to whisper in her ear. “please just fuck me already”

that was enough for her to pull you back towards her lips, your hand gripping the back of her head to hold her against you as your tongues fought for dominance, you wasn’t giving in until she pulled your hair making your mouth fall open with a moan and pressing herself in to you. it didn’t feel real, the feeling of natashas lips being pressed into yours as you let out whimpers and soft moans of satisfaction. you wanted to please every part of her.

your hands make the same route of your own as you take off her top and throw her it somewhere in the room, you marvel at her for a second taking her all in. she always was beautiful but seeing her like this always felt different. it always surprised you how her skin would feel so soft in spite of years of torture her body had endured. you wanted too kiss every inch of her skin so she knew how beautiful she was.

your hands squeezed her breasts roughly as you move to start marking her chest, the sounds leaving natashas mouth only making you want her to fuck you even more. her thumbs rubbing over your now hardened buds didn’t falter even in the compromising position, you was like putty in her hands. the persistent grinding of your hips down on natashas strap made you not want to waste any more time, the need to fall apart in her arms instant.

natasha flipped you over, laying you down on the couch. taking her own trousers off as you scurried to remove your own. her strap standing tall over her own stomach had you moaning in place. she places her hips against your core slowly grinding into you as she now moves her head to mark your chest. red and purple bruises littered your chest in a seconds. her grinding stops as she moves her kisses down your body towards your core. she looked down to your core and back into your eyes hesitating.

“are you sure you want this”

“yes! now please fuck me!”

your hips lifting towards natashas face joined your words as you begged for her to fuck you. she felt blinded by the smell of your arousal hitting her senses. she decided not to tease, decided you both had waited long enough for this moment.

she licked a line up from your entrance to your clit, a cry spilling from your mouth at finally being touched made both of you go crazy. natasha circled your clit with her tongue holding your hips down as you tried to case your high you was already so close too. her grip never letting up only making you moan in frustration. she couldn’t stop, you tasted addicting.

she slowly inserted a finger in with ease, your body accepting her easily inside of you. your entrance already spilling with your own juices as she starts pumping slowly, a stark contrast from how her tongue was roughly flicking against your clit, taking her finger out and going back in with two she felt your walls clench around her, curling her fingers inside of you. natasha knew she had hit the right spot when a loud cry left your mouth and you begun fucking yourself against her fingers. your orgasm was rising rapidly as she didn’t let up her actions. natshas name constantly falling from your lips over and over.

“fuck tasha gonna cum.”

“not yet okay”

you could only whine in frustration from being denied. she wanted to taste you more, wanted to see how much more worked up you could get from her being inside of you.

“taste so good y/n fuck.”

“oh fucking hell tash”

your moans turning her on even more as your hands gripped her red hair pressing her further into your core as you roughly ground your hips down onto her tongue, the moans leaving natashas mouth just from your sounds and the taste of you sending vibrations straight through to your clit as she continued to flick her tongue and pump her fingers into you faster and faster.

“cum”

and with that it was as if an explosion went off inside of you. your juices leaking from your entrance onto natashas fingers and chin, dripping from you and onto the couch beneath you.

“that’s it baby, good girl”

she continued pumping slowly helping you ride out your high, when she notices you calming down, she slowly leaves you. a whimper falling from your lips at being left empty. she presses a tender kiss to both of your thighs as she feels you relax onto the couch, tension seeping from your body as she makes her way back up to your face leaving soft kisses on her way back up.

the smirk that lays on her face makes you hungry for more, she can see it in your eyes.

once she is back in front of you it doesn’t take natasha long to kiss you once again, you push her to lay back as you straddles her hips, she can feel how wet your core is as you sit on her stomach continuing to kiss her.

your core presses straight into the strap that lays on her stomach. the moan erupting from deep within your throat as you ground your hips down into her. your slick covering natashas strap instantly. her eyes held darkness but innocence as she looked down at the head on the strap pecking out underneath your core.

her breathe catching as you descend slowly, your lips leaving similar marks to hers down her chest towards her strap. natasha lifted her head up to have the perfect view of you as your lips engulfed her and slowly start bopping your head up and down on her. the sight sending her into a wave of arousal at the way your plump lips looked around the tip. she moves to grab your bun as she lifts her hips up making her strap go deep within your throat. the sight making her moan alone aswell as the strap rubbing against her own core.

“you’re really working for it y/n, shit!”

one of your hands gripping the strap as you continued to circle your tongue around the strap.

your other hand coming towards her stomach scratching down leaving red marks. natasha’s moans filling your ears as she never stopped her movements, popping you up and down along her. you held eye contact while you sucked yourself further down, your nose touching her stomach, the noise from your gagging making her want to fuck you with her strap even more had her pulling you back up towards her by your hair.

natasha aligned the strap up to your entrance as she watched you slowly sink down. a pornographic moan slipping from natasha as she watched you sink halfway down before stopping and looking at her for help. she held your hips and lifted herself up while pushing you down as she bottomed out inside of you roughly. your hands flying to her shoulders to steady yourself as she cursed over and over in russian. moans spilling from you at feeling so full of her.

she moved relentlessly inside of you. you was meeting her thrusts halfway as you jumped up and down her cock. her grip never loosening as both continued meeting thrust for thrust.

“fuck, so fucking deep baby” your words and moans sending her even closer to the edge as her strap rubbed perfectly against her.

“you fuck me so good tash. fucckkk- please don’t stop. please don’t stop”

nat leant forwards taking one of your hardened buds into her mouth. circling her tongue over and over as you grounded yourself into her harder. you was rocking back and forth chasing your high that was fast approaching. she could feel your walls clenching around her strap making it harder for her to push into you, the telltale of your second orgasm fast approaching as your breathing got quicker.

“so fucking tight y/n. you’re a fucking dream”

moans continue to spill out of both of your mouths as you continue to bounce on top of her. her hands gripping your hips, most likely to leave bruises in her wake as she ruts into you just as hard.

“y/n, fuckkk. are you close” she heavily breathed out as you kept rocking back and forth. your head nodding against her as she gripped your hips impossibly tighter.

both of your moans were loud throughout the room, nat pulled you closer to her. your foreheads pressing into one another’s as she continued her assault on her core. everything about this moment with natasha didn’t feel real, like you’d wake up in a second and realise it was all a dream. her consistent moaning of your name sounding like music to your ears.

you both felt your own orgasms approaching fast, the strap having been hitting natashas clit at the right angle all throughout fucking into you.

“cum with me!” she all but shouted as you both continued to rut against each other as your orgasms took over you both.

her hips don’t stop thrusting into you as both your own orgasms take over. her loud moan echoing throughout the room, you’re sure you could cum all over again just by the way she sounds. her body shakes underneath you as you slowly collapsed onto her chest. your lips instantly on her neck as you bite into her while you keep breathing deep and hard as you road out your high, her thrusts slowing down letting the calm take over you both.

she nuzzles her self into your neck pressing gentle kisses up and down until she reaches your ear.

“i am madly and deeply in love with you y/n”

“you promise?” your voice sounding small over the seriousness in her tone.

“i promise with all my heart i love you.”

“i love you too natasha.”

as you lay together on top of the couch laying skin to skin, silence settles over you both as you take in each others words. the sincerity of one anothers love you realise, no matter what has happened and no what what happens you will always somehow end up in each others arms again at some point.

[femsolid]

Different Anon here, but wanted to say I appreciate you acknowledging that most rapes that happen to women are done to them by men they know, love and trust. (Sorry this is long, wanted to vent and also hear your thoughts.)

I’ve been called crazy before because I often enjoy biking after dark. I only do it in areas where I feel safe, and am fully aware of the risk and resent those who have called me crazy for it…. Because imho stranger rape is rare and these same folks also call me paranoid for refusing to dare men because I’m scared to be raped. I’m not afraid of stranger rape happening, because it was my father who was the first man who sexually violated me. I also have done it for over 10 years, and I’ve had occasional experiences of men bothering me, but disproportionately low compared to being out during daylight hours, and I trust my judgement and I find it liberating. What I find crazy is dating men… I won’t judge Women who don’t, and won’t call them crazy, but calling me crazy for biking at night because men are dangerous, while simultaneously choosing to date men, is crazy to me… 

I told my therapist at one point that I was sad I had never experienced romantic love, and i was referring to being sexually abused by my father, and then having my sexuality repressed because he didn’t want me to have a boyfriend and used covert threats of humiliation and sexual abuse (asserting dominance over me,) if I had one. I had one fling growing up where I ended up rejecting a boy when he tried to kiss me after I was the one who initiated intimacy/“ inappropriate touching”, in response to a romantic gesture where I developed intense romantic feelings and thought I was falling in love and couldn’t help myself. I was only 15, he was also 15. I become conscious in that moment, despite my mothers gaslighting, and religious shaming, that it wasn’t religious shame I felt, but fear and terror of my father. And my memories came back later of early childhood sexual abuse like molestation that I had amnesia from. That memory still haunts me… I tried to remain “pure” and then realized I wasn’t afraid of being impure because of religion…. I was afraid of further violation. I felt impure because of abuse, religion was just a gaslight.

Now I don’t trust men, and trauma aside, it’s also an intellectual response for me to avoid men. Too many women are raped, too many girls are molested by men. I told my therapist I was sad I never experienced romantic love. I just wanted compassion and understanding in that moment, and acceptance of where I was at in terms of grieving my loss of innocence, violation of autonomy, and violation of my sexuality and violation of my trust. Instead, she seemed to perk up; “it can happen at any age!” As if she interpreted that as me fearing I couldn’t ever experience romance again. Her response was so discouraging and upsetting to me.

I’m grateful to Rad fem’s who can just like… empathize with me feeling sad, and that it’s valid, and also wise of me to avoid men, and support me in my separatism.

It scares and concerns me how so many people, including l therapist , push this idea that in order to be a well adjusted and healthy adult, you need a husband or boyfriend… it scares and concerns me to see everyone’s obsession with denying the reality that men are DANGEROUS. All the therapy in the world would not make me trust men again; Yea I have trauma, but I’m also pretty intelligent and intuitive and found her response so disappointing. Completely self serving; so many therapists get a sense of ego boost and superiority out of this idea that their patients need them for validation and reassurance… I’ve not yet met a therapist who doesn’t push the romantic relationships down my throat. As a CSA survivor, my risk of being raped goes up if I date men. Statistically speaking.

I go to therapy to learn how to find my center, to learn how to self regulate, how to communicate better, how to connect to myself in a way that’s healthy so I can relate to others healthily so I can foster healthy friendships. I don’t need a fucking boyfriend. It’s like, why can’t I be allowed to be sad, without also being gaslight that “oh the right man is out there for you!” I am so sick of therapists denying that men are dangerous!!! Even basic social psychology 101 says men are socialized not to feel shame, and only to be nice to women they want to fuck, so why are therapists like this?? I’ve found therapists come in 2 types; invalidating, or, they believe validation is key to healing and that’s literally all they do, validate and reassure, which is actually so unhealthy considering self regulation comes from the ability to validate and reassure yourself. I also don’t find it reassure when therapists gaslight reality and project their family and social values on you that happiness and fulfillment = a man. I want to accept reality, even if it’s painful, because I want to feel safe.

Sorry I didn’t mean to puke all this out; what are your thoughts on therapists coercing or suggesting or pushing this idea of relationships onto women, instead of separatism? Because that bothers me. Therapists acting oblivious pisses me off. I can’t even trust therapists. 

I’m a het woman, and I really appreciate lesbians cause they’re the only ones who don’t fucking project this shit or lie.

To me, heterosexual "romance" and "love" are a social construct meant to subjugate women. If it were natural, it wouldn't be pushed on us so hard. And it makes sense: how else would slaves "fall in love" with their torturers? Without "romantic love", women would have no reason to partner with men at all.

Little girls are taught it's our life's goal to find a man, seduce a man, keep a man, serve a man, love a man, carry "his" children, and live happily ever after. Why wouldn't a therapist believe it too? That the key to our happiness depends on being devoted to a male? Not to mention, this is very likely to be what your therapist hears all the time from her female patients.

When I was in domestic abuse support groups, I kept seeing severely abused women, barely out of the woods, already looking for another man to be abused by to love, simply because women think they're incomplete and are failing at life if they don't. Your therapist probably hears that a lot: loneliness from women who don't know they can be content without a man. Put into context, your therapist's response is disappointing but not shocking. She probably assumed you were saying the same thing straight women often say to her. It's up to you to explain what you meant or let it go.

I've been lucky enough to find a therapist who has never brought up the subject of dating and is very careful about not making assumptions or trying to lock me in a box. But it took me years to find someone like that and I'm still tiptoeing around the subject of women and men because 1) I know she's a married woman with a kid so she's biased and will not want to listen to me dismantling her life, and 2) she seems blissfully unaware of the extend of men's misogyny. Though I'm aware that not being able to say what you truly mean to your therapist is problematic, I also know that if there's one thing a woman can't do is express separatist thoughts in public. Not without prompting some pretty viceral reactions. 

Anyway, there are many types of love, other than this fake and unreciprocated "romantic" love, that are much more worthy of pursuit and actually come naturally to us. Of course there's the love between two women, but even outside of dating. Your affection for an animal, a sister, a friend, a child, a place, an activity, yourself, are different forms of love. The deep compassion and solidarity you feel for a woman can be akin to love as well. And to me these are a lot more vualuable than man-made "romance". When I went hiking in the french alpes and, having reached the top of mont Brevent, faced the highest mountain of Europe, it was so beautiful I cried. And when my therapist asked me to describe what I felt, all I could say was love. Same when I hug my niece and my heart swells. Same when my dog falls alseep in my arms. Same when I am proud of myself. Same when I look at the stars at night. Love is when you feel at home. 

There is no home to be found among your oppressors. 

By the way, I've also always felt better and freer being out at night than during the day. And it might just be because there are less men and noise at night. When I was younger I found it exhilarating, like getting a glimpse of what it would be like to live without fear, judgement, self monitoring, like men live, most of the time.

"Calling me crazy for biking at night because men are dangerous, while simultaneously choosing to date men, is crazy to me."

Exactly. It's completely illogical. "Don't bike near monsters, date them!" uh ok. You're statistically safer biking at night alone than going to bed with a man, let's get that right.

I'm glad you're getting more and more insights into what you've experienced and are getting to know yourself better. I hope that, nonetheless, therapy is helping and I feel like you have more than enough strength and intelligence inside of you to get through either way.

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

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

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

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

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe a little too well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow. So that explains everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understandable.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

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

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

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

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

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

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

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

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

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

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

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

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah.” 

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

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

“You miss her?” 

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

“Did you talk about it?” 

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

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

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“But it works!” 

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

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

“Bumble.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or are you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

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

You: call. Ill come after dinner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Girl–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only recently,” you frown. 

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

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

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

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you still love him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Girl—

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

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

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

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

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

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mean by what?” 

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

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

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

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

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

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

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

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

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

“Yes ma’am.” 

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

“I wish you did, too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook…” 

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

“Jungkook—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

“Please, baby.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

some time later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then the hotel room?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

“You know I love you, right?” 

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

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

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

“You’re terrible.” 

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

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

[radiosandrecordings]

Something I really like in the interpersonal dynamics of TMA is the portrayal of ex’s. There are a few mentions scattered throughout the statements but I wanna talk specifically about Jon and Georgie, and Tim and Sasha.

Jon and Georgie. Oh boy, where do I even start here. I have so many feelings about their relationship in general so it’s kind of difficult to untangle how I feel about them as a whole and the role they serve within the whole show’s examination of dynamics from their actual former romantic relationship. But, along with TimSasha, I think the thing I like about it is how little it’s brought up? I think it’s possibly only mentioned once, in 106, with Melanie telling Basira about it. At that stage we’d known Georgie for 26 episodes, and had Jon living with her, and they never mention it. I mean, we only get glimpses of their conversation on tape, maybe they did, but we don’t know for certain. The important thing is our experience as an audience and how they’re portrayed to us. 

They have this extremely fraught and complicated dynamic and it’s my favourite in the whole show, because each believes themselves to be right in the actions they’re taking, because they each are very stubborn and have these deep-seated mindsets, plus Georgie is working with imperfect information about what exactly is happening in Jon’s life. And it would be so easy, expected even for a lesser show, to have this culminate in a conflict where one of them yells “This is exactly why we broke up!” or “This is just like you, you’ve always been like this” or “This is just like (x y z time)!”. 

But that never happens! I don’t think we ever get any references to what they were like as a couple. We just have to take their dynamic as it is, because whatever they were like in the past is something they’ve put behind them. It ended on bad terms, but for regular Young Adult Break-Up reasons. They’re adults now, they have new problems like Being Framed For Murder, and The Apocalypse. And it’s just really refreshing to see them deal with new problems and not stale ones from the past that they’ve buried. 

This extends to how Martin interacts with Georgie as well. When they first meet, Georgie is aware that Jon is in love with him, and Martin clearly knows they were staying together, if not that they used to be together from him calling her “Jon’s Georgie”. And yet they conflict for how the other treats Jon, not because of any dating based tension, especially surprising considering Martin has a whole list of people he’s been jealous of in regards to Jon. Which means it’s allowed to become a trait which, while not good, never leads to any actual conflict. I really like that because that would just feel out of place in the narrative, to have all this massive complicated web of dynamics and grievances going on and then have “You dated the guy I like 10ish years ago, and that’s why I hate you” as one of them. It would feel a little immature in a story about people closing in on 30 if it was allowed to grow beyond something brought up in minor scenes as flavour text and become a  whole dynamic definer, especially in a show where each dynamic is supposed to be a specific type of exploration of relationships.  

The same could be said of Jon and Melanie. The two famously don’t get on, finding any reason really to go for each other’s throats a lot of the time, even when it can be taken more literally as ‘scalpel to the shoulder’. I’ve made jokes about this scenario’s hilarity before, but in actual fact I’m glad that there’s never anything made of “The girl who hates me stole my girlfriend”. Because Georgie doesn’t belong to either of them, she’s not a pawn in any of their fights. She’s a woman who can make her own decisions and form opinions independent from who she’s dating. 

And then there’s Tim and Sasha. Something they were so chill about, we, the audience, didn’t know about it for 162 episodes. It’s a lovely little scene really, it tells us so little but also so much. They have an “Ill-advised hook-up” and Tim is convinced something more will come of it. Sasha laughs and tells him that she doesn’t agree. And then the conversation continues on. He doesn’t push her on it, doesn’t even ask her why, just lets it go. From Sasha referencing that she’s “pretty sure we already established it’s a ‘wont they” it might hint that this is a conversation they’d had before, but honestly from the light tone I want to give Tim the benefit of the doubt and say Sasha is just referencing the general fallout of their fling that made it, to Tim’s own description, ‘ill-advised’. And unlike Jongeorgie, after this breakup, Tim and Sasha remain close friends and co-workers. Tim continues to care about Sasha even when it’s clear she doesn’t have any romantic interest in him and no longer any sexual interest, because he genuinely cares about her as his friend. He jokes around with her and curses out both Jon and Elias and they’re just good to each other. They platonically care so much that Sasha is literally willing to risk her life to save Tim when he doesn’t notice Prentiss in episode 39. 

And again, jealousy never comes into play. When the Not!Sasha starts going out with ‘Tom’ - Literally one letter away from his own name! - It would be so easy to have some of Tim’s anger in season two manifest in jealousy about that. About wondering what this guy has that he clearly doesn’t when Sasha has moved on to someone else. But that never happens, at least as it’s presented to the audience, because Tim is genuinely a nice guy and respects her decisions (Aside from the fact that isn’t Sasha but y’know. He thinks it is). 

Overall it’s just very, very good to see a show where characters are allowed to have (had) romantic/sexual relationships but these not define their dynamics or for this to extend to how other character’s perceive them. A lot of media will often introduce the ‘evil ex’ because for some reason I feel like people tend to forget sometimes that whatever happens later, we date people because in the first place there was something there that we liked? And not every breakup has to ruin our ability to see that. It’s also maybe a little reflective of the fact that every relationship I analysed there involved at least one queer person? (Well, every person I mentioned is queer except canon Sasha. Sorry love) Because just from my experience and my friend groups that’s how it can often be. It’s just another way in which TMA has my favourite character dynamic writing and really knows how to give it’s characters complex connections without letting them fall into stereotypes. 

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think of Tom Riddle/McGonagall?

You reminded me this is even a thing, anon, well done.

I can't say I have any thoughts on it. But I guess let's dive in and see what we can find.

Canon?

No.

Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall did go to school in the same time period (well, before CoG retconned McGonagall to be several years older), so in theory it's possible.

However, I think it's unlikely.

McGonagall might have liked Tom. He's prefect then head boy, charming, handsome, and generally well liked by the student population. I imagine a lot of people had a crush on Tom.

Minerva's also not as held down by anti-muggleborn sentiment and classism as some of her peers. She doesn't really get muggles, but at least as an adult is very pro-muggleborn and it doesn't seem like she had a large change of heart sometime between her schooling and when we see her in canon.

She's pureblood, and her parents might have balked at her seriously dating a boy with the last name Riddle, but a school fling could happen.

It's also likely that anti-Slytherin sentiment wasn't nearly as bad as it was in canon. Sure, it's typically home to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy, but being Slytherin doesn't make you evil.

The trouble comes in a few places.

1) I imagine that Tom kept everyone at an arm's distance.

He's a guy with a lot of acquaintances, but 0 friends. McGonagall's not the type to casually date, she'd want an actual relationship, which means Tom is not interested.

2) Tom in his later years of Hogwarts was having a mental breakdown

Between opening the chamber, closing the chamber, framing Hagrid, murdering his uncle, OWLs, NEWTs, prefect, and head boy, Tom's swamped. He doesn't have time for a girlfriend who expects anything from him.

3) McGonagall might be nice but she's still a pureblood

We see it in canon, McGonagall every once in a while drops these disparaging lines about muggles. Every pureblood does, Ron does it quite a bit too.

Even though Tom's no great fan of muggles necessarily I imagine that would really piss him off. McGonagall's never even seen a muggle in real life and here she is pretending that she knows how perfectly dreadful it is that London's getting bombed and that the imminent invasion of Nazis has absolutely nothing to do with her.

4) Tom's a romantic

I imagine Tom has 0 interest in casually dating or dating period. It's go big or go home, either this is real, true, love or he's not going to bother.

I imagine a fling with McGonagall in school, that he has no interest in further pursuing, just wouldn't interest him.

5) We see no hint of it in canon

McGonagall, thanks to Dumbledore, likely knows who Tom Riddle is (I forget if she's said as much, it's been a long time). She has enough clues to piece it together at least thanks to the diary incident in Harry's second year.

True, Dumbledore could have kept that under wraps and Ginny may never have told McGonagall exactly what happened. So it's possible she didn't know.

However, all that said, we see no hint that McGonagall or Riddle were anything more than acquaintances. It's never mentioned that McGonagall and he dated, McGonagall never mentions as much herself or even talks about the guy.

And true, Dumbledore could have decided that this would just complicate things for Harry during the pensieve lessons, and McGonagall might not know what Tom Riddle became, Tom wouldn't bring it up because he doesn't want people to know he's a guy named Tom, but it's a pretty glaring thing to leave out if it had happened.

Harry had enough pieces that, had it happened, he probably would have found out about it. He didn't though, which leads me to believe it never happened, or if it did then it was so casual and short it was basically meaningless.

But What About Not Canon?

I could see it happening, though caveat, on a very casual level.

Minerva asks Tom out, Tom says, "What the hell?" and says yes, and they break up in three months after Tom never went on any dates with her, never took her anywhere, and forgot both her birthday and Christmas.

I don't see it on any level being serious.

Tom wants Tom Riddle to disappear, he's very committed to this, and as a result he's not going to pursue anything serious.

I also just don't see any serious chemistry between them. Minerva's smart, driven, amiable, likes quidditch but I don't think Tom would see any of that as all that interesting to him. She's a face in the crowd and no one of huge importance.

As for Tom, he's distant, overly polite to add to that distance, cold and melancholic, and likely a very forgetful boyfriend who is an utter drag at quidditch matches. He looks great from a distance, but once you get up close there's a whole lot of baggage that a teenage Minerva wouldn't be interested in.

I just really can't see the chemistry. At all.

How Have I Seen it in Fandom?

Fandom typically makes this pairing, from the bits I've seen of it, sort of Tomione 2.0 (without the time travel and a thicker Scottish accent).

Which makes Minerva not really Minerva, but more Hermione in a hat with a Scottish mustache.

Though that said, I haven't actually read many of these fics so I'm hardly the expert. You'd have to tell me.

TL;DR

Unlikely in canon, unlikely to have ever been anything remotely serious or long lasting, I see 0 chemistry, and fics around are usually knock-off Tomione.

[imkylotrash]

Black And White (Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Summary: Saul pops the question. Meant to be read as the last chapter of the series. 

A/N This is the last chapter I’ll be writing for the Black And White series. Thank you so much for following along and making me smile with all your support and messages. I can’t wait for my new series to come out 💛

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

Five years past quickly. In the blink of an eye really. You stay at Alfea with Saul and in time, you’re hired as a teacher. You never expected to love being a teacher as much as you do, but seeing these young people turn into adults with their own opinions does something to you that you’re not sure you’d find in any other job. 

“They’re getting good,” Saul notices as you’re watching over the graduates for this year. In less than two months they’ll be fully trained specialists ready to conquer the world. This time of year always gives you a feeling of nostalgia. You remember being in their shoes wondering where there’ll be a place for you. 

“They’re getting too comfortable though. One of them actually mouthed off to me the other day,” you say still surprised they had the guts. 

“You know, I remember a student much the same a couple of years ago,” he says daring to place his hand on your lower back. It still feels weird that you so openly can be affectionate towards each other even now. 

Farah came around a couple of months later when she realised that this wasn’t just a tiny fling. You have a theory that she mainly accepted it to keep her friendship with Saul but you didn’t complain. You understood her.

“I was not that bad,” you protest to which Saul raises an eyebrow. 

“You might want to give the others a chance,” Saul suggests looking back at the three others several feet behind you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” you reply careful to keep your voice down but clearly, Saul isn’t amused.

“I’ve been tracking since I was 5. I know these woods like the back of my hand,” you add quietly. Of course, he already knows this but he doesn’t seem to care right now. He’s not your Saul, he’s Mr. Silva and you hate it.

“Back of the line,” he says and you just can’t help yourself.

“Come on! I’m being punished because I’m too good? How does that even make sense?” you ask this time not caring if the others hear you. He can’t seriously be punishing you for being better than the rest.

“You just hate the fact that I’m better than you.” He pinches your side and you laugh thankful no one looks your way. You want the students to respect you, not see your boyfriend tickle you. 

“I’m fairly certain you’re mistaken,” he smiles. As much as you love his company, you shoo him away needing to focus on the students. There’ll be plenty time for you to talk tonight on your date. Your phone buzzes with a text from Harry reminding you that’ll he be arriving around 10 am tomorrow and you can’t help but shake your head. That boy has changed his time of arrival five times now. You send a quick reply before returning to class. 

The day passes by quickly and soon enough you’re walking hand in hand with Saul to the portal that’ll take you to Earth. 

“So, where are we going?” you ask once you’re safely through the portal. 

“You’ll see,” he says leading you to a black car which you find a little suspicious. It doesn’t take long before you realise where you’re heading but you don’t want to ruin the surprise so you keep quiet as the car approaches the planetarium. You’ve been talking about going to this place for almost a year now but your schedule hasn’t allowed you the time. Now, you’re finally here. 

“You like it?” he asks helping you out of the car. 

“I love it,” you whisper. He takes you straight to the stargazing area where he’s prepared with dinner in a basket and blankets to keep warm. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve him, but you know you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to give him even a smidge of the happiness he gives you. 

“This is beautiful,” you say sitting down on one of the chairs and craning your neck to be able to take it all in. The entire ceiling is filled with stars shining down on you. 

“Close your eyes,” he whispers holding your hand in his. You do as he says wondering what he’s got planned. 

“Open.” You open your eyes to see the image of the starry night has changed. The stars spell out “Will you marry me?” You look over at Saul who’s gotten on one knee holding out a ring. Tears well up in your eyes and you frantically blink to be able to see everything. You don’t want to miss a second of this. 

“Of course. Yes,” you whisper looking at the gorgeous ring in his hand. 

“You have to let me ask first, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t care. My answer is yes,” you burst out eager for him to put the ring on you. Inspecting the ring, you realise what it’s been reminding you off. 

“Did you?” 

“It’s my mother’s engagement ring. It matches the ring my father had.” 

“You won’t lose me. I’m coming back for you.” He reaches out to touch you and you let him.

“You don’t know that,” you say choking back tears. He gently grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him.

“I promise you I’m coming back,” he whispers kissing your forehead. He gives you a minute to just breathe before gently placing two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up.

“You can’t promise something like that, Saul. No one can.” Images of your father leaving the house that morning flashes before your eyes proving that even with the best intentions, it doesn’t always go the way you intended.

“I can promise I’m coming back because I’ll need this back when I do.” He holds out his ring to you. It was his father’s ring and in the time you’ve known Saul he’s never taken it off. Carefully, he unlocks your necklace and adds the ring to the chain before closing the lock again.

“I love it,” you say cupping his cheeks and kissing him. You can’t get over how well planned this whole thing is. You never would’ve thought Saul to be such a romantic. 

“There’s no stress. But I know someone is waiting very impatiently outside,” Saul says regret already in his eyes which gives you a pretty good feeling of who exactly is waiting outside. 

“He can wait a little longer,” you smile kissing Saul again. You let him wait for half an hour before you head outside. Harry is leaned against the black car with a smirk. 

“I thought you two lovebirds had forgotten all about me,” he says pretending to be freezing, “It’s been 84 years.” His voice tremors perfecting the reference. 

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow,” you say hugging him tightly. You’re so happy he’s here.

“That was the ruse to keep you from suspecting what was really going on. And I must say, I perfected my part.” 

“I’m already regretting having involved you,” Saul says but he hugs him all the same. The two have developed a sort of love / hate relationship where they fight like brothers but have each other’s back at all times. You’re glad they work so well together because you have no idea how you’d divide your time between them. 

“Can I see the ring? It’s the only thing grumpy over here kept to himself,” Harry says and you hold out your hand to let him inspect the ring. He takes a little too long just to keep Saul on his toes before looking up at you. 

“It’s as beautiful as the person wearing it. Congratulations.” He pulls you in for another hug. You’re not sure what the future holds for you but you know you’ll be able to face it all as long as you have these two in your life. 

[urnooboo]

LIFELINES AND LEGACIES - A D&D inspired TS4 Legacy Challenge

By me, @urnooboo!

Even though I’m not active, I wanted to start another legacy challenge, but I didn’t want to do a normal one. Since my friends and I play D&D and love it, why not take inspiration from there? And so here is the culmination of that little brainstorm! It’s my first time making a challenge like this, so hopefully it won’t be that bad. :D It’s a legacy challenge based on the Dungeons and Dragons classes!

If you want to try this challenge out, please use the tags #L&L challenge or #ts4 L&L ! I’d really appreciate it if anyone tries this out just for fun! 

Bit of a warning, this challenge gets a bit chaotic in the middle because...honestly, I dunno,,,,

Rules and requirements under the cut!!

Pack Requirements: All the EPs and GPs except for Star Wars (ew), but you can always skip some requirements if you don’t have the packs for them

You can choose to do this on normal lifespan, but playing on long is allowed too.

So, how do you want to do this?

GENERATION 1: Fighter

You don’t have much right now, but you’re determined to build yourself from the ground up and start a family. You have a strong will to fight when needed and you’re quite athletic. You don’t have to be completely alone at the start of this journey, however, and a long time best friend of yours can be part of your party.

RULES:

Must have Active trait

Fight/”Friendly Spar” with at least 3 different sims and 1 occult sim

Complete Successful Lineage aspiration

Starting funds must be less than 20,000 simoleons after buying a house

Get a job in either the Fitness career or the Military career

OPTIONAL: Can have another sim in the household when starting out, and must be friends with them. They can be your family, childhood friend,existing lover, or just some random roommate. (Also yes, you’re allowed to romance them. Unless if they’re your family, yikes)

GENERATION 2: Druid

Your family may not have had the best financial state starting out, but you don’t let things like money phase you. You’ve always loved nature and going out, and dreamed of wanting to do more for the environment as an adult. You like to take things a bit slowly, and love to lounge around. 

RULES:

Must have Vegetarian, Lazy, and Loves Outdoors traits

Lot must be off-the-grid

Have a green eco footprint

Marry in adulthood instead of young adulthood

Meet and become friends with the hermit in Granite Falls

Max out the Gardening skill and grow your own food

Optional: You must only have one lover and you must woo them with bees

GENERATION 3: Artificer

You’re dissatisfied at how your family lounges around most of the time, and you’re quite the workaholic compared to them. Your career is your life, and you happen to be both ambitious and gifted. Though you love your child but you have absolutely no idea how to be a parent. So you might end up being a bit of a helicopter parent… 

RULES:

Must have Ambitious and Genius traits

Graduate college on a scholarship

Get a job in the Scientist career

Have at least level 6 Robotics skill

Have only one child, born from a one night stand/fling

Never get married

Only do strict parenting interactions with your child

OPTIONAL: Complete the element collection

GENERATION 4: Wizard

You grew up in a house with high expectations, and always wanted to please your family. You worked hard in your studies and in the end- it paid off. But at the cost of you not having much of a social life. However, that really isn’t your priority. Instead, you chose to start learning the magic arts, enthralled by its mystic ways. You were always good at school, so why not start getting good at magic now? As long as you put your mind to it, it shouldn’t be that hard...right? 

RULES:

Must have Perfectionist and Loner traits

Have less than 5 friends

Must finish Whiz Kid child aspiration

Become an “A” student in both grade school and high school

Must have “Responsible” trait when you reach Young Adulthood (via high responsibility value)

Graduate college with a distinguished degree

Become a spellcaster

OPTIONAL: Take the teaching or doctor career

GENERATION 5: Sorcerer

You were born with a magical bloodline, and you love to show it off. You want the whole world to see that you’re a cool prodigal spellcaster. You’re the complete opposite of your parent; loud, outgoing, quick to make friends. You’ve even developed a knack for acting in order to impress people, and you dream of becoming a famous star in order to show those who wronged you before that you’re the best thing on earth. 

RULES:

Must have Self-Absorbed and Erratic trait

Must have weak bloodline trait from parent and become a spellcaster

Reach the Adept, Master, or Virtuoso rank 

Become at least a B-Lister

Get to level 7 of the Actor career

Have some sort of rival

Must have “Good Manners” trait when reaching Young Adulthood (via high manners value)

Must have good reputation

Optional: Be the leader of a popular club and have the Insider trait

GENERATION 6: Bard

You’ve got it all. Rich and famous family, a magical bloodline, musical skill, lots of friends...but something inside you just feels...missing. Thanks to this, you started going around looking for lovers, carelessly tossing aside those who happened to not meet your indecisive standards. It would probably take you years before you calm down and settle with someone you truly care about, but all the heartbreak you’ve caused before that is quite impressive, to say the least. 

RULES:

Must have Romantic, Music Lover and Non-Committal traits

This sim has to be the hottest generation. Go all out yo!!!!

Must have strong bloodline trait but cannot be a spellcaster

Complete the Serial Romantic Aspiration

Work in the Entertainer career as a musician

Have as many affairs as you want and have illegitimate kids BUT…

Your heir must be the result of an affair with an occult sim that isn’t a spellcaster. See rules for next generation below

OPTIONAL: Only get married in late adulthood or elder life stage. You can’t have kids with this person.

GENERATION 7: Warlock

You never really had a close relationship with your “famous” parent, and spent more time with your occult family, making you pretty close with each other. Your half siblings don’t like you because you inherited a part of your famous parent’s fortune, despite being...you know...a paranormal freak? To get around this, you developed quite a skillful tongue, and you know your way around words. Now you’re looking for someone to get some more money from... 

RULES:

Must have bloodline trait AND be part of an occult race that isn't a spellcaster. Like, you could be a mermaid, vampire, or alien with the bloodline trait, or even a half alien or half vampire.

Have a high relationship with your occult parent

Reach level 10 charisma skill and get yourself a sugar daddy/mommy. :D

Now, your path for this generation will differ depending on whether your parent is an alien, vampire, or mermaid, and is based on some of the D&D warlock patrons. However, this divergence is completely optional. and you can just focus on finding a sugar daddy/mommy only

ALIEN PARENT (Great Old One patron) You can be either a full alien or half alien for this one.

Get a job in the Astronaut career and visit Sixam

Max out your Logic skill

If you’re a full alien, memory wipe at least one person who you had a high relationship with if they find out you’re an alien.

Must have Insensitive trait when you reach Young Adulthood (comes from having low empathy)

VAMPIRE PARENT (Undying patron) You can be either a full vampire or half-vampire for this one.

Max out your vampire lore skill

Own a cowplant for as long as possible

If full vampire, turn at least one person into a vampire

Become friends with the Grim Reaper, by any means necessary :)

MERMAID PARENT (Kraken/Lurker in the Deep patron) (UA) You can only be a full mermaid for this one.

Max out your fishing skill

Try to have one child with Sulani Mana trait

Collect 5 rare fishes

Die from polar bear plunge (jumping into a pool outside when it’s freezing cold)

GENERATION 8: Cleric

The generation before was…chaotic, to say the least. You may have occult blood in you but you’re gonna try to set things straight for future generations. How are you gonna do that? BY GETTING RICH, OF COURSE! SPREAD THE WORD OF CAPITALISM AROUND BY STARTING YOUR OWN RETAIL STORE! Or a restaurant, that works too. The most prominent thing that you’ve inherited from your parents is your love of money, and you’re constantly coming up with schemes to get more. Gods may not exist in The Sims, but you might as well worship something that’s powerful. And money is power.

RULES: 

Must have Materialistic trait

Have a job in the Business career, Politics career, or Civil Designer career (Civic Planner) and bop bop bop, bop to the top

Own at least one retail store/restaurant with a rating of at least three stars

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration

Eventually move to a penthouse OR one of the big apartments in the business district in San Myshuno

Have only one child

Fall in love with someone from work, then divorce them after having a fight

GENERATION 9: Paladin

Despite the unique circumstances that happened before your birth, you grew up...pretty normal. There’s not much to say about you since your magical bloodline and occult genes are probably dwindling from here, and sooner or later your family legacy will go back to being humans. You’ve always wanted to protect this world and be the one to bring justice to it, so you take up a job in the police force. You and your lover unfortunately had a kid, and even though your lover may have wanted it deep down you actually hate kids. You’ve heard about strange events going on in a town called Strangerville, and you’ve been itching to investigate… 

RULES:

Must be close with Generation 8 sim

Must have Hates Children trait

Have a job in the Police career

Complete the Strangerville Aspiration and become the Hero of Strangerville

Have the “Mediator” trait when reaching Young Adulthood (from high conflict resolution)

Stay in the penthouse/apartment your parent got

OPTIONAL: Complete the “Rambunctious Scamp” child aspiration and get “Physically Gifted” trait

GENERATION 10: Rogue

Ironically, despite your upbringing, you ended up becoming a deviant that has constant run-ins with the law. Your relationship with your family isn’t great, but you’re determined to make a name for yourself as a slippery troublemaker. Your true dream however, is to find your one true lover, since you’re a secret hopeless romantic. Your flirting skills are laughable though, and you tense up whenever you have to do something romantic. How are you gonna find love like this? 

RULES:

Have bad relationship with Generation 9 sim

Must have Kleptomaniac, Gloomy, and Unflirty traits

Reach the top of the criminal career

Complete both the Soulmate aspiration

Whenever you visit another sim’s lot, steal something from their house

Have up to two exes before finally settling on the one you wanna marry

Get friendzoned at least once

Move out of your parents’ penthouse/apartment and into a small 20x15 lot

OPTIONAL: Have negative reputation

OPTIONAL: Be BFFs with your other parent

You can end the challenge here, but there are still some more D&D classes left to do, so here they are, the optional generations!

GENERATION 11: Barbarian

You take after your parent a lot, and you’re skilled in making people absolutely hate you. Your emotions are just as stable as Philippine wifi, and you have this terrible habit of getting into fights a lot. But just because people don’t like you doesn’t mean you can’t go out and have fun. In fact, you’re quite infamous for going out to parties and starting bar fights. 

RULES:

Must have Hot-headed and Mean traits

Must have “Uncontrolled Emotions” trait when aging up into Young Adulthood (from low emotional control)

Fight as many people as possible, make lots of enemies

Throw a lot of parties and go to lots of bar nights and events

Complete Public Enemy aspiration

OPTIONAL: Die from cardiac arrest

GENERATION 12: Monk

For someone with a public nuisance for a parent, you’re pretty chill. You love to make stuff, and your way of life is quite tranquil, to say the least. You’re handy and artistic, and love to do things yourself, even if it does give off the impression that you’re super cheap. You’ve always got a gift for someone during christmas, and your inventory is full of stuff that you’ve made, or components to make stuff with. The world is cool with you, and you’re cool with the world. You’re not the type of person who could hold down a regular job though...

RULES:

Max out the Wellness skill

Must have Maker trait

Be at least level 4 in the all following skills: Handiness, Fabrication, Painting, Writing, Flower Arranging, and any instrument skill. (Also Knitting, if you have it)

Always change jobs when you reach level 4 in them, and your only truly stable source of income is from selling the stuff you’ve made

Live on an off-the-grid lot, preferably somewhere near the water or near a forest

Have twins for kids and only those twins (you can cheat to get this ahhaha)

Elope only, cause weddings aint your style

Explore Selvadorada with your family at least once

GENERATION 13: Ranger

After you and your family went on a vacation to Selvadorada, you decided that you’d travel the world, no matter what! Your twin sibling was originally gonna help you complete this dream, but unfortunately they died due to mysterious circumstances. While you mourned away your sorrows, you came across a stray animal that reminded you of your late sibling and decided to take it in. Once you got yourself together out of your slump, you decided to pack your bags and start travelling around the world for realsies.

RULES: 

Be BFFs with your twin

Twin sibling must die during their teenage/early young adult years

Adopt at least one pet after that (yeah, you can have more)

Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration

Visit all the vacation worlds at least once in your lifetime

Discover all the secret lots except Sixam

Visit at least one lot in each normal world with your pet

Move household at least once

Don’t have children

And that’s it! I hope you guys enjoy this challenge!! I’ll try to play this too, though I might be even more inactive since school is finally starting hnnng you guys are free to tweak some requirements to better suit your gameplay so just have fun and enjoy!!!

[cablesscutie]

34. “I just want to be there for you.” Zutara, For the fluff prompt list please ☺️

Hello!! You sent me this a very long time ago and then my brain was bad and ground to a screeching halt, but I have been thinking about it this whole time! And now my brain has finally allowed me to make words again these past few weeks, so here it is:

PART 1 \\ PART 2

Even after seeing pictures of Zuko convinces Katara to tentatively agree to Ty Lee’s hairbrained scheme, she still tells herself that she has time to bail. If she really decides that she doesn’t need a date after all, she can just cancel on him and tell Aang her date had food poisoning or something. If worst comes to worst, she can claim that she has food poisoning too and escape the entire mortifying ordeal altogether. Zuko is just an option.

This is the constant refrain in her mind week after week as the date of the wedding approaches, and Katara gets somehow less enthusiastic about it with each passing day. She thinks it as she lets Suki shove her into a fitting room, laden with figure-hugging dresses. She thinks it as she scrolls quickly past Instagram posts counting down the days, politely liking them faster than she can process the sight of fairy lights and mason jars. She thinks it as she impulsively adds a leg waxing to her bi-monthly spa day with Toph. Zuko is just an option.

Just an option with arms that look like they would feel strong and secure around her, and a shy smile, and who’s sweet and playful with kids. Katara lets out a long, frustrated groan and presses her forehead to her desk, rolling it back and forth in a futile attempt to rub out the impending headache of a Friday afternoon. A moment later, she hears the telltale rattle of Suki’s office chair, and then her friend is rolling to a stop beside her.

“You good?” she asks, brushing aside Katara’s hair so she can see her face.

“No,” she sighs, annoyed.

“Is it the rehearsal dinner? Because if you don’t want to go, I can just say you got held late at work.”

“No, no. That’ll be...fine, probably. It’s this whole wedding date thing.”

“Oh do not tell me you’re still being all wishy-washy about it.”

“It just feels like a weird thing to do! I’m just going to show up at my ex’s wedding with this random dude? How will that look?”

“Um, probably like you’ve moved on? Which you have. Objectively. You even had a whole other relationship.”

“Really? Because I think it’ll look like I’m jealous and trying not to be.”

Suki fixes her with disbelieving eyebrows and a laugh. “Trust me, babe. Nobody is going to think that you’re the one that left that relationship pining. You were basically his mom. If this was Jet’s wedding...eh, maybe? But you tend to settle.”

Katara isn’t quite sure if Suki is trying to insult her or compliment her with that statement, and she isn’t sure if her kneejerk, “Hey!” is out of a desire to defend her judgement, or her past partners’ character. Regardless, she doesn’t have much after that to refute the point. Aang seems like a functional enough adult now, a few years out of college, but when they had dated, the “teen” in his nineteen years definitely showed. As for Jet, her much more recent cut, he was...vibing.

“Hon, you’re gonna be fine. I’ve heard Ty Lee and Mai talk about Zuko before, and he sounds like a decent guy. At worst, you have a meh date and escape some social awkwardness, but-” the upward tilt of Suki’s voice had Katara on edge, knowing what was coming next.

“Please, no -”

“- it could be good.”

“No, it can’t be.”

“Ty Lee seems really confident about you two, and you know she’s got a creepy good love radar. After all, she’s the one who convinced me not to block your brother when he slid into my DM’s. Even you told me to block him.”

“She does not have love radar. I love her, but the girl is an unstoppable meddler; she was bound to have a hit once,” Katara dismisses. It’s true that Sokka and Suki are adorable now, and perhaps evidence of the existence of soulmates, but Katara maintains that Ty Lee is a hopeless romantic who believes anything could be the start of an epic love story.

“Fine, be a cynic then. But you’ve already acknowledged that he’s hot, so just go to the wedding with him, and maybe finally rebound from Jet.”

“Hmm,” Katara hums noncommittally.

She’s something of a serial monogamist. She’d left her first real relationship with Aang intending on a summer fling to cleanse her palate before going back for her senior year. After a whirlwind month with the mature and worldly Jiang, she’d been looking into online classes, all but ready to move onto her houseboat and sail away into the sunset. Until Suki pointed out that it was an insane plan, and the ultimately parted ways as planned when Jiang set out to sea again. From there, she had fallen in with Jet as a friend with benefits to blow off steam through her last year without leaving herself open to distraction.

He wasn’t the kind of stable presence she could see herself settling down with, but wasn’t looking to be babied either. No, Jet was more of a feral creature. He knew he was dysfunctional and was fine with it, because function was the system and the system was bogus. Then, she got to know him, and realized that he kept people at a distance for much the same reason she was always pulling them too close. Suddenly, she had grand dreams of showing him the healing power of love, and both of them breaking free of their pain, never needing to fear being alone ever again. He cheated on her, and even as she was shouting at him, she’d known deep down that they had both just repeated their same bad habits all over again.

Now, there is Zuko. Zuko, with tragedy in his scarred eye, and sadness in his smile, but gentle hands on little legs resting on his shoulders. Katara thinks she could make many bad habits out of Zuko, and she is not too proud to admit that it terrifies her. Her stomach turns, and she thinks it might not even be a lie by the time she tells Zuko she’s suddenly too sick to attend the wedding.

The nausea gets worse at the rehearsal dinner, when she walks in to find Jet there, grinning at a bridesmaid. Suki hauls her over to Aang to give him a dressing-down for inviting him, and Katara is somehow reminded in the span of five minutes why she is extremely glad to be rid of both of them.

“I didn’t think it would be a problem!” Aang says, his usual defense. “And he is my friend - we go rock climbing together.”

“Small world,” Suki snarls, and Aang goes wide-eyed, leaning around her to look beseechingly at Katara.

“I swear, I didn’t think you were avoiding each other! After all, we’re exes, and it’s my wedding, but that’s not weird. So I figured you wouldn’t have a problem being in the same room as your other ex.”

Katara grits her teeth behind glossy lips that she forces into a smile, and despite Suki’s murder eyes and the voice in her head telling her not to - to swallow her embarrassment and tell the truth - she finds herself falling back on those old bad habits. “It’s okay, Aang. You had good intentions. We can be adults for one day.”

“Thank you so much Katara,” Aang gushes, lunging forward to wrap her in a hug that pins her arms briefly to her sides. “You’re the best!”

Suki shakes her head in disappointment as he bounds away. “You made your bed,” she reminds Katara. “Guess now you have to decide who to lie in it with.” She glides away to join Sokka at the bar, leaving Katara standing dazed and confused.

“Katara, hey,” an all too familiar voice greets her almost immediately after, and Katara closes her eyes. Suki totally hung her out to dry, and she can’t even be that mad because she’s right.

“Jet,” she says evenly, turning to face him. This shouldn’t be hard for her. While she doesn’t forgive him, she’s also very over him and understands that she’s an idiot for not making Aang ask him to leave. “How are you?”

“Not bad, not bad,” he says, bobbing his head. His clothes are formal but rumpled by disdain for their formality, an effect which once had a liquifying effect on Katara’s insides, but now just feels rude. “I was actually coming over to ask you the same thing,” he says, as though it is a profound inquiry and not the root of all small talk. She opens her mouth to offer a brusque reply and make an excuse to join Sokka and Suki at their table, but he knocks the wind out of her sails with his next words. “Ex’s wedding and all. Brutal.” He gives her a look that she is all to familiar with: his I-see-your-pain look. It was another thing about him that used to push all the right buttons on her, but now she just feels insulted at the presumption that she needs or wants his pity.

“Aang is actually a very dear friend,” she says, trying to sound as impenetrably chipper as possible. “Like a little brother.”

Jet is not deterred, leaning closer to her, his hand just brushing her elbow. “I feel bad about how things ended between us,” he says softly. “I should’ve done better by you.” Katara is momentarily stunned. Is she actually getting a sincere apology? “Which is why I think we should go to the wedding together. I just want to be there for you.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water down her spine, dousing both the fire of her anger and the tiny kindling warmth in her stomach. Katara pulls her shoulders back, straightening her spine, and snaps, “I already have someone to be there for me.”

Jet blinks and rears back a little. “Alright. I’ll, uh. Be looking forward to meeting them then.”

As he slinks away, she feels a moment of deep satisfaction. Only to nearly aspirate her sip of wine as she realizes she has officially painted herself into a corner. Zuko is coming to this wedding.

Thank you! If anyone wants to send me a line or prompt (from this list or your brain) I'll keep it going!

[nightswithkookmin]

Imo there is enough to support the possibility of a romantic relationship, but you are writing full on narratives with impossible specificity. You know what confirmation bias is but some young impressionable people dont yet . Forgive me but misleading with ' alt facts' can hurt someone even if you dont mean it. I think you are a good person not looking to hurt anyone. But the way you postulate without any evidence makes your actions a little but like those of a charlatan. Peace and kindness

All these kind words you spew...

It feels more like an advice than a question so I'm not sure how to respond to it...

Let me just say thank you? I never quite understood what the brouhaha was about with my posts but after talking to a few people, 'on the other side' lol and reading your Ask, I think I'm starting to get a better sense of what the problem is.

Something about young impressionable minds or people?

Let the council of elders know, those are not my audience please. I cater to a much more mature audience- at least so far. The people that I interact with and engage with on my posts on and off Tumblr are very mature and not impressionable at all.

They are People with brains who can tell an opinion from fact and can engage in deep complex controversial conversations without throwing up, shedding tears or cussing through to the heavens.

If there are 'impressionable people' reading my blogs- they do so at their own risk. If you know any such people or they run to you with my theories kindly point out to them it's just theory because that's what my opinions are.

I think the best thing you can do is to advice such people to grow up if they are going to sit at the adult table or not read my posts at all. I think you need to learn to hold the right people accountable for their actions.

The best I can do in this case- to hold myself accountable, is to put up a disclaimer on my posts to let people know what it is that they are reading- something I do quite often. But I will make conscious efforts to put up those disclaimers each time henceforth. Thank you.

That I write full on narratives with impossible specificity:

Is this Latin for, 'you write fiction get the fuck outta here?' Chilee.

I don't even know what you mean by this exactly so I may not be able to respond to it to your satisfaction. Bare with me.

So what if I write fiction? What is wrong with writing fiction? Do you hate fiction writers? I don't get what the hate is with these complaints honestly. Do you want me to put up a disclaimer stating my blogs are fiction? Would that help? I would glady do it.

If it helps you sleep at night think of my blogs as fiction- a rose by any other name. I've been keeping up with Shakespeare. Lol.

I don't think it's that deep. Listen, you gotta understand that just because we both 'ship' Jikook don't mean we are on the same team...

Most alt shippers I know and who read my posts and engage with it are not even Army to begin with, for your information. They could care less about these shipping politics of yours. Have you thought about that?

Some simply ship JK and JM and support them because they believe they are members of the LGBTQ plus community not because they are part of BTS.

There are different communities out there who are also into Jikook- for very different reasons. You gotta respect that.

To you, Jikook is just a ship within BTS that may or may not be real, but to some of us they have very much outgrown that description...

They are a brand of their own, a power couple and members of the LGBTQ plus community- Gay Icons extraordinaire. I think we take very different stock in Jikook. So stop trying to fit us all into one box.

It's disrespectful to try and control the way that people perceive their OTP and support them. Jikook don't just belong to Army Jokers, they belong to different communities outside Army. Are you aware of that?

And please don't confuse the intersect. I am an alt-shipper yes but I just so happen to be an Army too. But if I wasn't an Army, I'd still pretty much 'ship' and support Jikook- make no mistake. There are quite a few of us running around these streets, you know?

So you have every right to want to gatekeep your Army Jikook- but you have to do that without infringing on other rights of other 'Jikook communities.'

Throughout my blogs I have tried to shed light on what altshipping is because I thought it would help bridge the gap but clearly that hasn't worked. Sigh.

Misleading alt facts

Do you not know what it means or you are just being ironic?👀

Why is it ok for you to believe and proclaim that JK and BigHit lied about JK dating the Tattoo artist but it's not ok for me to believe JK is telling the truth when he says he didn't date her and that BigHit saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone- hence why they didn't press charges against the shop for breach of privacy like they had said they were going to do. Instead, they had asked the shop to keep calm till the scandal died down on it's own?

You start your piece off with the whole, 'there is enough evidence to support a romantic relationship' between JK and the tattoo shop lady- I assume.

For context, this Ask by this anon is in response to my recent post/ answer on the tattoo girl scandal where the topic of discussion was on BigHit, JK and the tattoo artist and not Jikook perse.

A statement that is in direct conflict with JK's statement, BigHit's and the lady in questions, all denying that there was a romantic relationship between her and Jungkook- and somehow I am misleading who- who now with my theory??? Chileee.

Do you see the problem here? Double standards- the hallmark of bigotry. Lmho. You are literally doing the very thing you are accusing me of. Making confident assertions and claiming you know more about JK and the Lady's relationship and even have 'enough evidence' contrary to BigHit, JK and the Tattoo artist's statements denying the rumors- at least when I theorize I admit I'm being delusional. What's your excuse? When you say charlatan are you referring to yourself? You must be. Lmho.

Now I'm confident in my comprehension skills and intelligent enough to know when you make an assertion like this- it is your opinion and you are just stating your opinion. If you are not then honey you'd be opening yourself up to some serious litigation... goodluck I guess. Lol.

You are allowed to form an opinion about a topic. There is nothing wrong with that. If to you, JK and this person dated that is fine. I am not going to cyber bully you, stalk you, throw slurs at you, harrass you, dox you, slid into people's Dms to spread hate and lies about you just because I don't agree with your opinion. And for the record, I don't agree with your opinion. Hehehehe.

I have stated my opinion on the matter. I said I think JK and this person did hang out, go on dates but that there was no romantic sexual relationship between them because I believe that would have had much serious consequences and effects on Jikooks dynamics no matter how much they tried to keep a cool facade. Whoever felt cheated on would have acted more insecure than usual post the incident- how does this make me a charlatan? Are you saying it's wrong it have an opinion? Chileee.

Now if you can produce 'evidence' of them having sex or even kissing, then I will gladly change my mind on the topic and not sweat it.

Jikook have done way worse questionable things in 7 good years and people still don't believe they are dating. Jk hangs out with a female friend a few times in less than a month and suddenly he is dating her? Lmho.

You don't need me to tell you people are more eager to accept a heterosexual relationship than wrap their heads around the fact that two male idols are gay and in a gay relationship with eachother. Don't you just love it when homophobia meets heteronormativity and stinks? I do. Lol.

I mean this is a fandom that thinks JK is 'too touchy' and doesn't respect his boundaries- they practically swear JK is cheating on Jimin with every member any time he hugs, kisses, wings at within the group. You think they will be 'objective' about JK hanging out with a girl? Even if it happened once?

You said something about confirmation bias.... I will not touch it. Lmho.

This is not the first time JK has gone on a date with a girl. This is not the first time he has 'dated a girl', he has hand girls on his laps or whatever- what is a back hug? I think people need to stop defining Jikook's lives by their own standards. If a backhug is intimate to you. Thats you. If you think a grown ass man cannot hang out with a female friend, that's equally you.

You think if he thought it was inappropriate and risky he would do it 'in public?' Get with Kpop Idol dating culture. Lmho.

Do you know the lengths they go through to keep their relationships a secret? Especially non celebrity girlfriends? Chen from EXO got married and where is his wife? They keep their flings tighter than Trump keeps his toupee on his head. Lol.

They hide them not out of shame but out of love and the need to protect their loved ones. These idols have family members who have their restaurants and businesses shut down because they want to keep their privacy.

You think JungKook's girlfriend would- on her own, issue a statement regarding a scandal that Jungkook's agency had specifically directed her and her shop to keep quiet about and lay low till it blew away on its own? And later, started liking couple posts about her and JK? If they were dating, certainly JK would have dumped her after that move. In my opinion.

You think JK would let his fandom drag the person he is in a relationship with to the extent she loses her Job- when in his Itaewon gay pub scandal BigHit referred to the issue as his private affair immediately it happened? They could have kept the same energy with her, no?

They handled his gay pub scandal much better, with much respect and consideration for his privacy- if he dated her sorry but she mustn't have meant much to him at all. And if I were her I would have dumped him for that shit and not stay liking couple posts about us. Damn- But do you.

Taehyung was in a scandal with a girl too- did you see her liking posts and shit and going out of her way to do the most? Did you see how BigHit handled that scandal?

Nothing wrong if JK is 'dating' her or had 'dated' her and whatever person he decides he wants to be in a relationship with I will support him- that's why I support Jikook.

But your opinion is equally valid my guy. Just don't call me a charlatan for mine. You believe they dated, I believe they didn't- and to your impressionable young minds, I hope you are not selling them anything contrary to BigHit and JK's statement. That would be very irresponsible of you. Lol.

What else did you say?

Oh postulating without evidence...

Next time I write a theory based on my observations about Jikook, remind me to break off a piece of my brain and attach it to it- I guess that way people would finally understand when I say things like 'I think' 'in my opinion' 'I feel' 'I believe' that these are just my thoughts and opinions and not facts.

Let me leave you with this:

Peace and kindness. Namaste.

Signed,

GOLDY.

[hexalt]

Schitt’s Creek and the Transformative Power of Love

I first watched the pilot for Schitt’s Creek in the early part of 2019 and found it...eccentric. Not really funny, the characters weren’t speaking to me (except for Stevie (Emily Hampshire), whom I felt a kinship with), and the story seemed odd. I decided this show just wasn’t for me, and I had given it my best shot. Many months later, one of my best friends was posting about it frequently. Since we have the same taste, I thought maybe it was just the pilot. Maybe I should give it another shot. Maybe this time I’ll actually like it. So I started it from the pilot again, and I kept watching even if I wasn’t thoroughly entertained. I soon grew to love the two black sheep and having characters you understand always makes things easier.

What I didn’t realize when I started the show was that the characters were each more than they seem, they weren’t meant to be shallow jokes of themselves and their personas. The way they acted was often a façade hiding their insecurities of not being good enough in a variety of ways. The only other show that I’ve seen with a somewhat similar premise is Arrested Development, but there the characters are supposed to be absolutely ignorant, privileged assholes with no redeeming qualities.

I didn’t realize each season is better than the last, an astounding and rare feat in television. The quality of each season improves as the show quickly finds its footing by discarding early storylines that didn’t really work and letting the characters slowly becoming more grounded and open. This family that was once so distant that the parents didn’t even know their daughter’s middle name eventually develop genuine relationships for the first time with each other and other people.

Schitt’s Creek, co-created by father and son, Eugene (American Pie, Best in Show) and Dan Levy, wanted us to ultimately empathize with these characters, even if the remnants of their wealth can make them profoundly delusional and hilarious a lot of the time. Before writing the show, they created timelines going back to their characters’ elementary school years, detailing everything from where they worked to what they wore.

The fashion on the show is distinct and the best dressed I’ve seen in any show (and most films). Dan is huge into fashion and personally selects a lot of pieces worn in the show (some of David’s clothes are even from his own wardrobe). Instead of constantly telling the audience that this family used to be rich, we are reminded of it through Moira’s wall of wigs and couture black and white ensembles, David’s patterned black sweaters and low crotch pants, Alexis’s bohemian dresses and headbands, and Johnny’s array of business suits. When they enter any room in town, they are clearly fish out of water.

Schitt’s Creek centers on the Roses, a once-disgustingly wealthy family who lose their fortune and are forced to move to the only asset they have left: a small town named Schitt’s Creek that Johnny Rose (Eugene Levy) bought as a joke for his son, David (Dan Levy). So dilapidated is Schitt's Creek and so destitute are the Roses, they don't even have a house of their own; instead they are forced to live in a motel with two connecting rooms, forgoing all the luxury they had become accustomed to and, more terrifyingly, are now physically closer than ever.

While at first the family is horrified at the prospect of living in such a small town with townies, they eventually embrace the weirdness of the town, and it makes them grow in unexpected ways. Johnny was once the owner of the second-largest video rental store in the country and retains his businessman-like self through and through, but he also began the show more uppity. While he is often the most reasonable of the Roses, he often sees himself as above others in town and gets into awkward situations because of it. Over the course of the show he ends up developing a friendship with the town mayor to whom he initially had yelled “get the fuck out!” While he’s always devoted to his wife, he wasn’t so keen on his children, but being forced to live together makes him take a larger interest in their lives and become a better father.

Alexis (Annie Murphy) is the quintessential “dumb blonde” socialite who’s had a Schitt-ton of relationships with powerful men, making stories of her past highly entertaining, often illegal, and frequently frightening. She clearly grew up way too fast, never having had proper adult supervision. She’s reliant on men, and all she can think about in season one is trying to date cute guys. In the following seasons, she realizes it’s time to start growing up and gets her high school and Associate’s Degree to start her own PR business. She becomes a more enlightened version of herself, still deeply kind but also willing to put the happiness of others above her own. The Alexis who previously couldn’t see beyond her own nose becomes independent and more selfless.

David’s had hundreds of flings with people of all genders, but they seem to be replete with abuse, manipulation, and a lack of care for his being. This is unsurprising when we see how he hides his insecurity behind sarcasm and sometimes downplays things he doesn’t like to fit in. He fears showing kindness to anyone because others haven’t always been so kind to him. Early on, he has a panic attack and comes to the realization that he’s “really lonely here,” but he’s been lonely for a lot longer than that. What he doesn’t expect is to make his first best friend or find his soon-to-be husband in this backwater town. In the process, he learns to shed some of his armor.

Moira (Catherine O’Hara) was once on a soap opera, Sunrise Bay, and retains the melodrama in her day-to-day life and demeanor. She is constantly trying to become what she believes is a star: someone who acts in film, someone who everyone mourns when they die, someone who people will just pay one sliver of attention to. She’s desperately trying to cling to the spotlight, but in “Life is a Cabaret,” she finds what I believe will be her place come this final season. Rather than trying to constantly soak up attention, she gives Stevie the starring role in the town’s production of Cabaret (which Moira comes to direct) because getting that role was a “gift that once jolted [her] out of [her] little podunk routine.” From the wings of the stage, as Stevie slowly builds into “Maybe This Time” with such breathtaking passion and joy after starting off unsure and quiet, Moira is shocked at what she was able to bring out of Stevie. She’s finally realizing that her place isn’t center stage but in bringing out the best in others and helping them find their place in the world.

Stevie Budd begins as the desk clerk of the Schitt’s Creek motel until her great-aunt passes away, and she inherits the motel. From there she has to decide whether she’s ready to grow up and take over the family business, and she’s terrified. Johnny soon teams up with her in the business, renovating the motel and renaming it after both of them, so she sees the Roses aren’t going to abandon her. She is part of the Rose’s found family. Her and David are similar in their bluntness and sarcasm, but Stevie is insecure about never making it out of the town, never being more than a motel desk clerk, never having a long-term romantic relationship. She worries while everyone moves on with their lives, she’s “watching it all happen from behind the desk.”

Dan describes creating Schitt’s Creek as “writing a world that examines the transformational effects of love when the threat of hate and intolerance has been removed from the equation.” While homophobia is often front and center in any media depicting LGBT characters, Schitt’s Creek doesn’t give it as much thought. Where small towns are usually seen as ripe for homophobia, transphobia, and other discrimination, Schitt’s Creek doesn’t fall prey to this trope. Instead, this small town is bursting with love.

Dan purposely made David pansexual (it’s also the only show I’ve seen use the word) to challenge the viewer’s biases and push the boundaries of what it means to be masculine and feminine. David’s parents and others in the town never discuss it as anything strange or bad, it’s something he simply is and as common as the sky being blue. When David tells Stevie about his sexuality (“I like the wine, not the label”), she’s a bit surprised at first because she thought he was gay, but ultimately she doesn’t care.

This doesn’t mean the show never discusses what homophobia can be like, but it comes at it from a different lens.

For example, in “Meet the Parents,” David decides to throw a surprise birthday party for his boyfriend, Patrick Brewer (Noah Reid). What David doesn’t realize is Patrick hasn’t come out to his parents yet, they think David is solely his business partner. He tells David, “I know my parents are good people, I just...can’t shake this fear that there is a small chance that this could change everything.” David himself is prepared for homophobia from Patrick’s parents, but when they tell him they don’t care about that, just that he was hiding such an important part of himself from them, David who’s been trying to stay strong through it all wipes a tear.

“When I found myself in a position to tell stories on a global scale, I seized the opportunity to make a television show that might, in its own way, offer some support, encouragement and love to those who might not have it in their homes or in their schools or in their day to day lives. It’s a place where acceptance incubates joy and creates a clarity that allows people to see themselves and each other more deeply. It’s fiction, yes. But I’ve always been told to lead by example and this felt like a good place to start.”

— Dan Levy

I would be remiss to not touch on the comedic style of the show. This is a comedy that relies heavily on the physicality of its actors. Their facial expressions, accents and tonality, their limp wrists, each create uniquely funny characters with mannerisms unlike any I’ve seen. The cast brought nuance to the characters, when they could have easily fallen into vapid stereotypes.

As season 6 premiered on January 7, Schitt’s Creek is not done yet, and I can’t wait to see how its final season concludes. The characters are all happier now that they are achieving dreams they may not have known they had, they have fulfilling relationships with family and friends, and they all have grown into better people. Schitt’s Creek truly was their saving grace.

*

I’m in a TV group where we wrote essays on our favorite shows of the 2010s, so here is mine on Schitt’s Creek.

[allgirlsareprincesses]

The Death of Love and the Lonely Soul: Eros and Psyche in a Post-TROS World

This is the first of my follow-up posts to my series on Folktale Types in Star Wars, focusing on how the Sequel Trilogy retells (or fails to retell) the Eros and Psyche myth, and the potential psychological implications for our culture. This essay will frequently reference my original Reylo as Eros and Psyche post, though I will also occasionally refer to my other Search for the Lost Husband posts (2) (3) (4), so please consider reading those before diving in here.

To explain why I had a great deal of confidence in TROS being a classic happy ending to a Search for the Lost Husband tale (ATU 425), I have to share a little bit of what I learned about how folklorists view these tale types. A century ago, the popular theory about why myths and folktales were so similar all over the world was evolutionary: it assumed there was one origin tale, and that as humans traveled, they would carry the story with them and it would be retold and adapted by other cultures. This suggested there was one ancestral tale from which all the others developed, which accounted for the recurrence of the story’s basic plot and motifs.

Since then, however, advancements in anthropological research and the increasing appreciation for folklore in the study of human psychology has debunked the old evolutionary theory. It was discovered that cultures and societies existing at the same time in history, on opposite sides of the globe and which could have had no possible contact with one another, still told the same tale types with the same motifs. Details might be changed, but every culture had animal husband tales, or animal bride tales, and so on. This led to the now widely-accepted idea that universal human psychology accounts for the similarity in folktales. Basically, all humans tell each other the same stories because we all wrestle with the same fundamental truths, challenges, and transitions. This is why the swan maiden tales can be traced to male anxiety over sexual performance or the prospect of losing a wife in childbirth, or why animal husband tales can be traced to female power fantasies of taming a mate in a patriarchal society.

Based on all this, I assumed that even if Terrio and Abrams made a typically vapid modern action flick, they’d still hit all of the main beats of the Eros and Psyche myth because that’s what would come naturally to them. Obviously, Beauty’s love will return the Beast to his human form. Obviously, Psyche will complete her journey from child to adult and take her place as the true or metaphorical mother to the next generation. Obviously, they will end the story united for eternity to signify the end of the galaxy-wide conflict and the beginning of the true peace so long sought by the heroes of the Skywalker Saga.

While this was true to a limited extent in The Rise of Skywalker, several of the reveals and the final moments of the film not only departed dramatically from the structure of the Search for the Lost Husband myth, but the movie even fails to align with the commonly more sorrowful Quest for the Lost Bride. In a cruel and baffling twist, the story erases its hero and returns its heroine to childhood in a barren underworld. There is, frankly, no historical folktale I can find that matches this pattern. Even stories featuring preadolescent children are about disassociation from parental figures, not deeper dependence. (Note: Marie-Claire and Ty Black of What The Force and Wit and Folly have done some exploration of how TROS reflects the so-called “American Monomyth.” This is a valid interpretation but for the purposes of this analysis, I’m continuing to use stories more commonly recognized by the Aarne-Thompson-Uther classification of folktales.)

Rey’s Regression and Psyche’s Tasks

As a quick refresher of where we stood in alignment with the myth by the end of The Last Jedi, Rey is the mortal woman Psyche, and her force powers are akin to Psyche’s beauty in the myth. Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is god of desire Eros, Psyche’s husband and the son of god of war Ares and goddess of love Aphrodite. In Star Wars, it is the Dark Side and dark force users who play the part of Aphrodite herself, attempting to control Ben Solo and jealous of the powerful Rey. The symbolic marriage of the lovers has unmistakably occurred multiple times, but when Rey attempts to force Ben into the light and to accept his true identity, he recoils and they are separated. She has broken the taboo of seeing his true self, and so her animal bridegroom has fled to the safety of the Dark Side, or “his mother’s house.” Finally, all of Rey’s illusions, help, and protections have been stripped away, so she must now learn how to rely on herself to obtain what she desires. When Rey discovers her own worth, independent of anyone else, she will achieve womanhood. When Ben Solo accepts his full humanity, both dark and light, he will achieve manhood. Together, they will reach adulthood.

At the beginning of TROS, we may already suspect some trouble. Rey seems to have regressed to a childlike dependence on mentors, being trained as a Jedi by Leia in an attempt to “earn” Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber, even though she has used it without permission for two movies so far. Given the saber’s symbolic role as a phallic motif, this also suggests sexual repression or another reversion to a childlike state, especially considering the sexual awakening Rey experienced in TLJ. Ben, meanwhile, has also regressed to a dogged commitment to the dark side, seeking to remove any “threat to his power.” Still, there is time for the couple to recover their lost ground and achieve maturation in the course of the film.

In Apelius’ tale, the enraged Aphrodite confronts Eros about his marriage to Psyche:

“What! Is it she - the usurper of my beauty, the vicar of my name?…. Whereas thou shouldst have vexed my enemy with loathsome love, thou hast done contrary. Being but of tender and unripe years thou hast with too licentious appetite embraced my most mortal foe, to whom I shall be made a mother, and she a daughter. Thou presumest and thinkest that thou art most worthy and excellent, and that I am not able by reason of my age to have another son; which if I might have, thou shouldst well understand that I would bear a more worthier than thee. But to work thee a greater despite, I do determine to adopt one of my servants, and to give him these wings, this fire, this bow and these arrows, and all other furniture which I gave to thee -- not for this purpose, neither is anything given thee of thy father for this intent, but thou hast been evil brought up and instructed in thy youth.”

If we are to say that Palpatine fulfills the role of Aphrodite in this story, then a few things stand out: One is that Palpatine (and Snoke, given that they are one in the same) views Kylo Ren as a failure, recognizing his feelings for Rey. Darth Sidious sees Rey as a threat, and is both jealous and fearful of her power, of being “usurped” by her. Further, though it is not immediately clear that Palpatine intends to replace Kylo with Rey as his new host, it does become evident through the course of the story that he wants only revenge on Ben Solo. This idea of replacing Ben with Rey, though characterized as a Dark Side concept at first, becomes especially tragic later in the film when it seems that the Skywalkers have done exactly that. Finally, there is the affirmation that Ben “has been evil brought up and instructed in [his] youth,” when Palpatine tells him that he has been “every voice inside [his] head.” This suggests that Ben/Eros is evil as he has been raised that way from childhood, removing a degree of culpability for his nature.

Still seeking her lost husband, Psyche seeks out Aphrodite herself, who drags her by the hair as her maidens, Sorrow and Sadness, abuse and torment Psyche with whips and rods. The cruel goddess then gives her wretched daughter-in-law the first of her impossible tasks, demanding that Psyche sort a pile of grains and seeds in a single night. Though Psyche completes this task and a further two (gathering the golden fleece from vicious rams and collecting water from the mouth of the River Styx), she often despairs of success, twice attempting to fling herself into a raging river to escape her agony.

In TROS, Rey is similarly tormented by loneliness, as she tells Finn that she fears no one knows her. Though she meets with success in most of her efforts to chase down the film’s several McGuffins, she also seems to despair and give up more than once, most notably when she flees the scene of her oceanic battle with Ben on the ruins of the Death Star.

As for the tasks themselves, these appear differently in variations of the Search for the Lost Husband, but usually involve the heroine questing for her lost love, collecting objects and accepting help from various magical figures on her journey. By contrast, Rey does not seem to really seek Ben at all throughout TROS, as she consistently rejects him and is the aggressor in all of their confrontations. Though she collects objects and accepts help from other characters, including Force Ghost Luke, this assistance is always intended to help her defeat Palpatine, not recover Ben. I could come up with some tortured analogies between Rey’s mini-quests and Psyche’s labors, but truthfully I think those would be forced as the movie departed farther and farther from the mythological framework.

The Death Star Fight and the Revival of the Prince

Still, other aspects of the ATU 425 folktale type are distinctively present. Just as the Beast repeatedly asks Beauty for her hand in marriage, so Kylo Ren repeatedly asks Rey to join him on the Dark Side. With the words “take my hand,” this is explicitly presented as a proposal of romantic union, and just like Beauty, Rey repeatedly refuses, particularly as Kylo clings to his beastly form in the repaired mask. This brings us to the sequence which is on the one hand most aligned with the myth, and on the other hand serves as the most ominous sign of the lovers’ eventual fates: the confrontation on the Death Star.

The problem with this scene is that it can be interpreted as two different pivotal moments in the folktale. Firstly, recall that the turning point in the Search for the Lost Husband is the breaking of the taboo and concurrent wounding of the enchanted husband: The heroine, armed with “flame and steel,” attempts to look upon her husband’s true form. In some variations, she intends to kill him if she discovers a monster. However, when she finds a handsome prince instead, she is stricken with love and accidentally wounds him with hot oil or wax, signifying her perceived betrayal. Though we have already seen this in the previous films (in Rey’s slashing of Kylo’s face on Starkiller and again with her calling him by his true name in the flaming throne room of the Supremacy), it seems that this event is playing itself out yet again. Using Kylo’s own lightsaber (flame and steel), Rey stabs him with a mortal wound even as she is reminded of his true identity through the sensation of Leia’s death. Not only would it be odd to repeat the breaking of the taboo yet again in this story, but instead of the husband fleeing as he typically does at this point in the Search for the Lost Husband, it is Rey, the bride, who flees.

The other event that frequently occurs in this tale type is the revival or healing of the prince. And indeed, this is exactly what happens in the Death Star scene. Rey’s stabbing of Kylo Ren, though in my opinion out of character, is consistent with the violent means some folktale heroines use to transform their beastly husbands. For example, in The Princess and the Frog, she throws her amphibian suitor against a wall, causing him to retake his princely form. Other brides burn their husbands’ beastly skins, forcing them to remain human evermore. As I’ve said before, Kylo’s lightsaber is symbolic fire in Star Wars, so Rey stabbing him with it is akin to burning his beastly skin, forcing him to again become Ben Solo. It also can be considered the moment that she makes a blood sacrifice to recover him. Then, still surrounded by water (Rey’s element throughout the trilogy and also associated with healing and cleansing), our heroine heals the prince of all his wounds, including the scar she had previously given him. This is absolutely consistent with many folktales, among them Pajaro Verde and The Ballad of Tam Lin.

Further, Rey’s healing of Ben is a callback to her healing of the alien serpent she found wounded on Pasaana, a shockingly unsubtle analogy for Ben. In Apelius’ narrative, Eros himself is sometimes referred to as a serpent, and it is very common in other animal husband tales for the prince to marry his bride in the form of a serpent, as in the Italian tale The Enchanted Snake. This is usually interpreted to be a fairly obvious phallic symbol, representing the heroine’s sexual initiation or in this instance, simply the masculine power to the heroine’s feminine. We have previously heard Rey refer to Ben as a “treacherous snake,” so it’s obvious that her healing of both the snake and Ben himself is her healing the Wounded Masculine. Finally, Rey tells him she “wanted to take [his] hand, Ben Solo’s hand,” which is again a seemingly direct reference to Beauty finally agreeing to marry the Beast in order to bring him back from death.

Despite the close alignment of this scene with the revival motif in the Search for the Lost Husband, there is one glaring issue: that event always occurs at the END of the story. The revival of the prince is the final step in the searching bride’s journey, when she claims him as her true husband by drawing him back from death or a similarly dark fate. It is a testament to her power and her love, and it demonstrates the final transformation of the prince and his worthiness of his bride. It is most definitely NOT common for the bride to again flee after reviving her lover. Again, despite the fact that Abrams and Terrio are (likely unintentionally) using many classic ATU 425 motifs, the reordering of them is disorienting and unsettling.

Rey in the Underworld

Psyche’s final task in her story is to descend to the Underworld to gather a little bit of Persephone’s beauty for the jealous Aphrodite. Despairing of any way to get there and return safely, Psyche prepares to kill herself, but Eros speaks to her through an enchanted tower, instructing her to use certain objects to pass safely. He also tells her not to eat any food of the underworld, nor to open the box of beauty Queen Persephone gives her, or else she will not return. Psyche follows all of these instructions carefully, until she has nearly completed her task, and the temptation of opening the casket is just too great. She opens it thinking to take just a little beauty to please Eros, but inside she finds only the Stygian Sleep of the dead, and she falls down lifeless. Eros immediately flies to her side and wipes the deathly sleep from her eyes, reviving her and taking her in his arms. He then appeals to Zeus, who agrees to make Psyche immortal so that she and Eros can never be separated.

In TROS, the underworld is the planet Exogol, where lurks the personification of the Dark Side, Darth Sidious. In Star Wars, power is analogous to the beauty that is so coveted in the Greek myth, so the characters are all drawn to Exogol in a final struggle for ultimate power. Like Psyche, Rey has a moment of despair when she exiles herself on Ahch-To, thinking that she cannot possibly defeat the Dark Side. Oddly, instead of Ben Solo speaking to her through the Force Bond, which would more closely follow the myth, the person encouraging Rey in this moment is Luke Skywalker, her erstwhile reluctant mentor. He does indeed give her special objects to help her pass into Exogol (the lightsabers and his miraculously-preserved X-wing) and he advises her to confront her fears.

Another way to interpret this scene is as yet another instance of the heroine returning home to her suspicious family, where they poison her mind against her beastly lover. In Eros and Psyche, East of the Sun and West of the Moon, Pajaro Verde, Beauty and the Beast, and many others, there is always a moment when the heroine goes home to her family and receives dangerous advice warning her against trusting her husband, or attempting to keep her longer than she promised. I’ve argued before that this already happened in TLJ with Luke, when he repeatedly warned her away from her own dark side and from Ben Solo. Yet, it seems we again tread over familiar ground, with Rey’s flight to Ahch-To in TROS appearing as another regression of her character.

Rey flies to Exogol and attempts her final task, which is to defeat Palpatine. When he threatens her friends, she agrees to kill him in order to become empress (I really can’t type this nonsense with a straight face), which will make her the heir of death itself. Then, transformed Ben Solo comes charging in heroically to save his love, unwilling to let her face her final trial alone. Unfortunately, Palpatine sucks the life force from both lovers without much difficulty, then chucks poor Ben off a cliff. Rey is forced to defeat Sidious without her soulmate, though apparently a bunch of Jedi she doesn’t know are happy to give her a pep talk and make her “all the Jedi.” After finally destroying(?) Palpatine, she then inexplicably drops dead. Like Psyche, Rey has completed the final task but also taken the contents of the box (in this case, the power of “all the Jedi”) for herself, and as she is mortal, it is too much for her and she dies.

Just like Eros, Ben claws his way to his fallen lover’s side and gathers her in his arms, determined to retrieve her from death. Alive again, Rey calls Ben by his true name and professes her love in a passionate kiss. But whereas Eros then makes his soulmate immortal so that they can never be parted, Ben’s revival of her results in his own death, and the couple is again separated. Though redundant, it would be consistent with the folktale pattern for Rey to resurrect her prince in this moment. Instead, we see his body fade away, with no indication that our heroine clearly understands what has happened or really cares.

In each version of the Search for the Lost Husband, the heroine is a mortal woman who wins the love of a prince or even a god, and her final reward is to be elevated to royalty, or to immortality. Psyche becomes a goddess in her own right, dwells in the heavens, and gives birth to a daughter named Joy. Eros and Psyche, Desire and Soul, when united produce Joy.

But Rey is not united with Ben, in the end. In fact, with a royal heritage of her own, she doesn’t really need to be elevated any more. You could argue that she claims a more elevated title when she takes the Skywalker name as her own, but she still ends up alone, with only ghosts of someone else’s parents and her robot familiar for company. Rather than ascending to a throne or to the heavens, she literally descends into a ruin, a literal graveyard, in a barren wasteland. Her mythical husband is nowhere to be found, and there is no hope for a child. In a cruel and bizarre twist, TROS tells a fairly faithful final chapter of Eros and Psyche, only to strip its heroine of all she has sought in the last moment, leaving her bereft. And yet, the filmmakers dressed this as a happy ending.

TROS as an Allegory of the Lost Soul

Given how frequently the Eros and Psyche tale is used as a basis for psychoanalytic theory, what implications might this film have when viewed through that lens? In Jungian psychology, the human psyche can only achieve individuation - the knowing of oneself as a separate and unique person - if it can be separated and differentiated from the uroboric figures of parents, siblings, and mentors. Eventually, the repressed Shadow must be integrated into the Self in order for one to be a whole and healthy adult.

Within this framework, Psyche is a human soul trapped in a state of unconscious, lacking knowledge of her Shadow and therefore lacking agency. Eros is the Shadow, a collection of repressed desires which Psyche both fears and desires to claim. Her act of heroism is that same wielding of lamp and knife where she faces the truth, strips away her own illusions, and sees her Shadow for what he truly is. Psyche’s refusal to continue living a lie, and her subsequent pursuit of her desires leads her to achieve individuation signified in the product of alchemical union, Joy.

Up until the events of TROS, both Rey and Ben Solo were on this journey. Rey was trapped in a state of childlike unconscious in the graveyard of Jakku, having repressed the dark memories of the parents who abandoned her. In TFA, things tended to happen to her, but she rarely drove the action of the story herself. However, at the end of TLJ, she separated herself from the influence of uroboric mentor Luke and pursued Ben Solo, determined to truly see and claim her dark desires. With flame and steel, she stripped away the dark mask around him, but he also forced her to admit the truth about her parents to herself. Ben Solo, her animus, the projection of Rey’s unconscious, stood before her and forced her to bring what she had repressed into her conscious reality. Only then could Rey “let the past die,” separate herself from her parents, and “become what [she was] meant to be.”

Mirroring her journey, Ben was also trapped in a state of unconscious in the underworld of the Dark Side, having repressed his inclinations to the Light and to reconciliation with his family. His effort at separating himself from the influence of his mentors had a false start at first, as he mistakenly believed that he needed to “let the past die,” separating himself from his family and from the Light. With flame and steel, Ben killed his father, but to his horror, he realized that this did not rid him of his deepest desires. In TLJ, he got a second chance to separate himself from the controlling mentor by killing Snoke. Had he at that time faced his desire for the Light and acknowledged his true identity, he too would have been closer to individuation. Ben’s anima, Rey, stood before him calling him by the true name he had repressed and begging him not to stay in the Dark.

From this basis, we might assume that Rey, freed from illusions, would pursue her wayward Shadow in an attempt to integrate him. Ben, only a few steps behind, might finally accept his identity and his desire for love and affection, unite with Rey, and they would both achieve individuation, rewarded with Joy. In fact, for Ben Solo, most of this story does indeed occur in TROS. When Rey heals him and declares that she did want to take Ben’s hand, he is forced to finally face and accept his true identity. He then projects a memory of Han Solo, representing his repressed desire for the love of family, and he reconciles with himself. He then pursues his desires by running to Rey’s rescue, finally freed to act according to his own wishes. Does he manage to truly unite with her and achieve joy, though? More on that in a minute.

Rey, for her part, suddenly undergoes a regression into her unconscious state. Rather than becoming a unique and separate person, she again defers to mentors, training with Leia and claiming that she will “earn” Luke’s lightsaber. Consider that by the same point in his own journey, Luke was specifically defying the advice of his mentors, Yoda and Obi-Wan, who were advising him to kill his father and bury his feelings. They were of course proven wrong by the narrative, and Luke was validated. As the hero of her story and as a human psyche on its way to individuation, Rey should have separated herself from her mentors and the story should have validated her unique strengths and perspective. Instead, Rey’s success and heroism DEPEND on Luke and Leia, even to the end. In many ways, she is an avatar of her mentors more than a heroine in her own right.

The other way in which Rey regresses is in her discovery of her true parentage, as she is forced again to consider her identity as a child, an extension of the parents who (supposedly) loved her and the grandfather who might be the true source of her darkness. Recall that the action that launches Psyche’s journey into consciousness is a refusal to continue living a lie. Rey achieved this step in TLJ when Ben forced her to admit the truth to herself about her parents. Though it was painful and led to the loss of her lover just as with Psyche, it was necessary for Rey for understand that she could forge her own identity without relying on the false family she had built in her mind.

In TROS, not only is she unable to differentiate her identity from her mentors, she now has multiple new parental figures to contend with. Having accepted the truth of her deadbeat nobody parents and the losses of Han and Luke (and eventually Leia), she must now reconcile with loving somebody parents as well as having a grandfather who is basically the Satan of the Galaxy Far Far Away. Further, it seems she has been training herself to contact the spirits of many Jedi who have passed into the Force, all of whom also constitute mentors or parental figures. Rather than discovering how she is unique and what she might want in her adulthood, Rey is positively drowning in parents against whom she is derivative, still just a child.

Still, all of those parental figures are dead or die in this movie, which is traditionally one way that mythical children separate themselves from their mentors in coming-of-age tales. Theoretically, there should have been time for Rey to discover who she is apart from all these characters, decide she wanted something different out of her life, and then pursue and achieve it as heroines do. Unfortunately, we never see that happen in this film. At every point in her TROS journey, Rey is doing what a mentor instructed her to do. She’s following Leia’s guidance, or Luke’s guidance, or Palpatine’s…. In the end, it is Luke who is validated by the narrative, not Rey. She brings nothing new or unique to the galaxy, nor does she seem to have intense desires that would oppose what these mentors want for her. Yes, she did want to take Ben Solo’s hand, but she’s not on a mission to save him and she barely reacts when he gets tossed down a pit. Unlike Luke, who was determined to save Vader in spite of what everyone told him, Rey meekly follows her elders like a good girl.

In The Myth of the Birth of the Hero, Otto Rank says:

"The detachment of the growing individual from the authority of the parents is one of the most necessary, but also one of the most painful achievements of evolution. It is absolutely necessary for this detachment to take place, and it may be assumed that all normal grown individuals have accomplished it to a certain extent. Social progress is essentially based upon this opposition between the two generations. On the other hand, there exists a class of neurotics whose condition indicates that they have failed to solve this very problem."

Others have pointed out that Rey’s failure to reach full sexual maturity is also demonstrative of this problem, as evidenced by her virginal white ensemble, tight childlike buns after the soft long hair of TLJ, and loss of her intended mate at the end of the story. Rey’s journey to womanhood has been arrested in every way, but the ultimate illustration of this tragic regression is her slide down the sand when she arrives on Tatooine. To so perfectly mirror her childlike introduction on Jakku, without any reference to the later experiences that drove her toward adulthood…. It frankly suggests nothing so much as a psychotic break. In Jungian terms, Rey has been unable to break from the uroboros or collective unconscious, or to integrate her Shadow. In the loss of Ben Solo, she was unable to embrace her desires, and in taking the Skywalker name, she again lies to herself about her identity, repressing her connection to Palpatine and choosing instead a false family just as she did back on Jakku. Rather than the soul finding its way into consciousness, it is forever lost in the vast unconscious.

In a sense, Rey was not really revived after retrieving power from the Underworld after all, because she is metaphorically dead at the end of her story, just as she was metaphorically dead at its beginning. Living in the Imperial graveyard on Jakku, she had survived by remaining necessarily focused on herself. At the end of her story, she seems again focused inwardly, retreating from the galaxy and her friends, with no need to compromise or give of herself in a loving relationship with her soulmate. In Love and the Soul: Psychological Interpretations of The Eros & Psyche Myth, James Gollnick writes:

“Neumann interprets the beauty ointment which Psyche must fetch from the underworld as the eternal youth of death, the ‘barren frigid beauty of mere maidenhood, without love for a man, as exacted by the matriarchate.’ He sees in this deathlike sleep the pull of narcissism which would regress Psyche from the woman who loved Eros back to the maiden lost in the narcissistic love of herself. (Bettelheim also calls attention to the narcissistic state symbolized by Psyche alone in Eros’ magical palace, see The Uses of Enchantment.)”

This is to say that conjugal love, or a love that is physical as well as spiritual, is the ultimate form of self-gift. Though the sacrifice of one’s life is an admirable expression of love, it is inferior because it creates death, whereas the giving of self in an intimate embrace creates life. Hence, Eros and Psyche’s union created Joy. Has Rey found joy by the end of her journey? Or is she expected to be content with only power and the name that declares that power? And as for Ben, he has vanished completely. As Eros, he is dead and unable to be united with his Psyche. Though transformed from beast into man, Love is eternally separated from Soul.

When the Lost Husband Stays Lost

This might be a passable interpretation of the Sequel Trilogy, but it’s fair to ask the question: were we wrong? Was this ever a Search for the Lost Husband story, or did we simply see what we wanted to see in the tale? Indulging deeply in a Death of the Author approach to interpretation, I argue strongly that this was always a variation of ATU 425, because not only were all the pieces in place from the beginning, but the Sequel Trilogy was thematically the perfect inverse of ATU 400, the Quest for the Lost Bride, which was very clearly the story of the Prequel Trilogy. Further, many a mythical husband’s failed quest is actually the prelude to his bride’s successful search, as historical myths often start with the loss of the fairy wife only to switch perspectives to the feminine and have her successfully retrieve her lost husband. To the extent that Star Wars draws on the collective unconscious that produces these myths, I believe the parallels are unmistakable.

Still, these are films released by a corporation within a very distinct culture, the product of a particular time and place. They cannot be separated from the realities of the 21st Century America that produced them. This is why a deeper exploration of the American Monomyth is likely necessary to truly understand how TROS came to be. However, even within worldwide mythology, there are isolated examples of Lost Husband stories in which the bride does not retrieve her husband, or in which the couple remains separated by the end of the story.

One of the most notable examples of these tragedies is the Lohengrin Saga, a Germanic romance made popular by Richard Wagner’s opera. In it, Elsa, the Duchess of Brabant, is accused of murdering her brother, her case to be decided by trial by combat. When her accusers ask her who her champion will be, she tells them of a knight who has appeared to her in dreams. In answer to her prayers, her dream knight appears in a boat drawn by a swan, then agrees to be her champion under the condition that she never ask his true identity or origin. The swan knight wins the contest and marries Elsa, but before they are able to consummate their union, she asks him the forbidden question. Though he knows it will separate them forever, the knight cannot deny his love her request, and he admits to her that he is Lohengrin, Grail Knight and son of King Parzival. The laws of the Holy Grail say the Knights must remain anonymous, and if their identity is revealed, they must return home. Lohengrin leaves in the same boat in which he came, and Elsa dies of grief.

Many of the parallels should be instantly apparent: just as Kylo Ren often appears to Rey in visions, dreams, or in a dream-like state, so the Swan Knight first appeared to Elsa. As I stated in my Swan Maiden post, this means Kylo Ren is Rey’s incubus, or her dream lover and avatar of all her dark sexual fantasies. Just as the swan knight refuses to reveal his identity, so Kylo Ren declares that Ben Solo is dead and he is a monster. Further, the knight is a descendent of a powerful family, indeed one with mystical or holy origins given their association with the Grail. The last son of the Skywalker family, Ben Solo is even the great-grandson of the Force itself, with both royalty and magical power in his lineage. After several symbolic marriage encounters between Rey and her bond-mate, she insists on calling him by his true name and trying to force him to turn to the light, which constitutes the breaking of the taboo. After finally acknowledging his true identity and becoming Ben Solo once more, our hero is drawn away into death, his bride left to a sort of living death as a virgin on a dead world.

Though the story of Lohengrin predated the opera, Wagner crafted his version to explicitly reference the Greek myth of Zeus and Semele:

“Who doesn't know ‘Zeus and Semele?’ The god is in love with a human woman and approaches her in human form. The lover finds that she cannot recognize the god in this form, and demands that he should make the real sensual form of his being known. Zeus knows that she would be destroyed by the sight of his real self. He suffers in this awareness, suffers knowing that he must fulfill this demand and in doing so ruin their love. He will seal his own doom when the gleam of his godly form destroys his lover. Is the man who craves for God not destroyed?”

This too has parallels with the Sequel Trilogy couple, in particular with the woman demanding the god show himself in his “real sensual form.” As many have pointed out, Rey desired Ben completely…. His heart, mind, soul, and body. Having him with her in corporeal form mattered so much to her that the Force facilitated their touch across the galaxy, and she promptly shipped herself to him so that she could be physically with him, despite the risk to her. It is for this reason that I reject the interpretation of the ending of TROS that says because Ben and Rey are a dyad, his soul is with her when he dies. No, his loss is complete, and the fact that his body is gone is a tragedy. Were the living body not important, he would not have given his own life to save Rey’s. Absent any other visual or dialogue cues in the finale, it’s reasonable to assume that Ben’s separation from his soulmate is total.

In her book on swan maiden tales, author Barbara Fass Leavy points out that the taboos imposed on mythical husbands are different than those imposed on mythical wives. Men, for example, are most often prohibited from abusing their fairy brides, while women are prohibited from looking upon their fairy husbands or knowing their true identity. Leavy states: “In general, taboos imposed on the wife in Cupid and Psyche tales are often intended to keep her in her place, to prevent her from achieving some autonomy by knowing who her husband is, seeing him, or being able to disclose his identity to others.” Both taboos admit to an inherent imbalance in the relationship, and while husbands are instructed not to abuse their power, women are told not to challenge their husbands’ power or attempt to achieve a more balanced marriage.

Now the issue for Rey becomes clear: if she is to be her husband’s equal, then she cannot accept him as the unknowable Kylo Ren. He must become Ben Solo, fully-known and her equal in all things. This way, Rey claims her power and balance can be achieved both for the lovers and for the Force itself. Unfortunately, the creators seem to have overcorrected. They wanted Rey alone to be the ultimate hero of the Sequel Trilogy, but as long as a male Skywalker was on the board, they apparently thought he would overshadow her. It seems that the writers believed the man having power in a relationship is the natural state of heterosexual unions, a point made clear by their obsession with patriarchal lineage. So, rather than give the lovers an Eros and Psyche ending as equals, they removed the man from the equation to allow Rey to be the only hero and Skywalker, effectively punishing both of them for breaking the taboo and acknowledging Ben Solo’s true identity. When the lost husband is not found, this represents a narrative judgement on the mythical bride: she has challenged male authority, and so her heart’s desire is stripped away.

Lastly, Leavy also points out that most Beauty and the Beast tales involve a passing of the bride from father to husband, and that many animal groom stories can be interpreted as the bride learning to accept her new husband’s authority. If then the husband is eternally lost rather than found, custody of the bride logically reverts to her father. TROS contains numerous father figures for Rey: there is Luke, Palpatine’s son, and Palpatine himself. Rather than focusing on her mythical husband, our heroine seems to be questioning throughout the film to which father she truly belongs. In the end, she rejects her biological father and grandfather and loses her lover, then takes the name of her only remaining male authority figure, Luke Skywalker. Once again, Rey’s regression to a child is made clear and the myth structure utterly broken.

Conclusion: Star Wars and the Lost Children

Star Wars has always been a story of lost children. First it was Luke, then his sister Leia. Later, we learned of Anakin’s childhood, and finally Ben and Rey’s (to say nothing of other characters like Jyn, Ezra, Din Djarin….). We understood it to be a coming-of-age story in which these lonely children resolved their traumas and made adult choices. Those choices might have had sorrowful consequences, but the overall theme of the story has always been hope, so we knew there was always a chance for redemption, for the lost children to be welcomed home. Sadly, The Rise of Skywalker has deeply undermined that message. Mythologically, psychologically, and symbolically, Ben and especially Rey have reverted to childhood. They are both alone, separated from their families and prevented from forming a new family to provide hope for the future. Whereas the union of Eros and Psyche, Love and Soul, produced Joy, there is no union for Ben and Rey, and no Joy. I truly hope that in the future, Star Wars creators find a way to remedy this pandemic of lost children.

[roselovesa]

have you seen CHOI HYEJIN ? i heard SHE is a FLORIST at THE GREEN MEADOW. they’re 21 years old and they’ve been living in san verto for one year. they tend to be BENEVOLENT & MAGNANIMOUS, but rumor has it they can also be CAPRICIOUS & FINICKY. 

｡*    ❪       📂   𝐂://STATISTICS.

name: choi hyejin 

age: twenty - one

sign: pisces sun / libra moon ( click )

sexuality: bisexual

gender: cis woman ( she/her/hers )

occupation: florist , pianist, & composer 

alignment: chaotic neutral

｡*    ❪       📂   𝐂://BIOGRAPHY

* note: minho’s little sister !! <33 

📍   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴 - 𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚞𝚕, 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚊.

born   as   the   youngest   child   of   a   nurse  &   a   teacher,   hyejin’s   childhood   was   nothing   out   of   the   ordinary.   her   love   for   music   had   always   been   apparent   —  her   mother   noticing   early   on   that,   whenever   her   daughter   was   throwing   a   hissy   fit,   all   she   had   to   do   was   play   some   classical   music   in   order   to   get   her   to   calm   down

hence,   it   shouldn’t   have   been   a   surprise   that   her   father   decided   to   teach   her   how   to   play   the   piano   at   the   age   of   6.   &  by   the   age   of   9   she   was   labeled   a   child   prodigy.   hyejin   would   often   participate   in   competitions,   attend   music   camps,   &   play   in   front   of   anyone   who   was   willing   to   listen.   her   talent   was   undeniable,   truly

in   the   years   to   follow   she   would   pick   up   other   instruments   here   &   there   (   violin,   guitar,   french   horn   ),   but   nothing   seemed   to   stick   as   much   as   piano   did.   hyejin   would   also   dabble   in   writing   her   own   music,   often   with   the   help   of   her   father

&   if   there’s   one   thing   hyejin   learned   it’s   that   practice   makes   perfect.   by   the   age   of   11   she   managed   to   become   an   extremely   valuable   asset   for   her   school’s   yearly   musicals   as   she   composed   about   60%   of   the   songs   performed   <33

she   went   viral   on   social   media   a   few   times   as   well,   her   youtube   channel   accumulating   about   1.6M   views   by   her   4th   upload.   she   would   frequently   get   interviewed   around   that   time   as   well,   with   professionals   often   commenting   on   hyejin’s   bright   future

📍   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝚆𝙾 - 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚄𝚂𝙰.

her   brother   getting   injured   on   tv   was   a   catalyst   of   change.   hyejin   convinced   her   parents   to   let   her   move   to   new   york   in   order   to   take   care   of   him,   being   well   aware   her   life   had   considerably   dulled   the   moment   he   decided   to   leave   a   few   years   prior

the   move   went   smoothly,   &   with   opportunities   lining   up   in   front   of   her,   she   decided   to   get   a   bachelor’s   degree   in   music   composition,   her   accomplishments   allowing   her   to   attend   one   of   the   most   prestige   universities   in   the   city

it’s   there   where   she   fell   in   love   with   a   guy   who   she   deemed   to   be   a   mentor   of   sorts  ;  always   pushing   her   to   do   better   &   achieve   unattainable   perfection.   it   had   been   so   easy   for   hyejin   to   trust   him   with   her   work,   with   him   appearing   to   be   the   more   experienced   &   wiser   of   the   two.   he   was   a   child   of   a   famous   musician   after   all,   mastering   the   arts   of   sweet   talking   unassuming   girls   with   a   whole   lot   of   empty   promises

so   when   their   uni   announced   a   proposal   of   a   student   being   able   to   apply   for   an   internship   that   would   skyrocket   their   careers   right   into   stardom,   hyejin   was   well   aware   this   was   an   opportunity   that   couldn’t   be   missed.   her   boyfriend   mentioned   how   he   wouldn’t   apply,   seeing   his   father   could   offer   him   a   job  easily,   but   mentioned   how   she   should   send   her   work   to   him   so   he   could   look   it   over   &  help   her   out

😬

“  hey   babe,   i’m   sorry   to   tell   you   this   but   the   piece   you   sent   me   just   isn’t   that   good…   i   can’t   quite   put   my   finger   on   it,   but   the   composition   is   just   wrong.   it’s   okay,   though,   you’re   only   a   freshman   &   still   have   a   lot   to   learn,   we’ll   work   on   it   together.   but   maybe   forget   about   the   internship   for   now   ?   i’m   sure   with   some   improvement   my   father   will   manage   to   get   you   an   even   better   job…   anyways,   love   you,   talk   to   you   soon   ”

crestfallen   &   humiliated,   hyejin   accepted   the   fact   that   it   would   be   simply   too   embarrassing   to   submit   the   sheets   of   music   she’d   written.   it   was   two   weeks   later   that   her   boyfriend   abruptly   ghosted   her,   only   for   her   to   find   out   he’d   gotten   the   internship   by   applying   with   the   composed   music   she   sent   him.   he   denied   any   claims   of   stealing,   &   when   hyejin   told   her   professor   about   the   situation   he   basically   wrote   it   off   as   well

📍   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴: 𝚜𝚊𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘, 𝚄𝚂𝙰.

in   the   next   few   months   it   felt   like   her   life   had   crumbled   down   around   her,   hyejin’s   future   career   appearing   grim.   minho   &   her   decided   to   move   to   san   verto   in   order   to   find   peace,   a   fresh   start   waiting   for   them   there

she   took   up   multiple   side   jobs   to   get   her   music   out   there   again,   while   also   trying   to   push   past   the   writer’s   block   she   experienced   due   to   stress.   on   week   days   she   would   give   rich   kids   piano   lessons   after   uni   &   bloom   under   the   praises   their   parents   would   give   her   skills.   on   the   weekends   she   would   play   at   a   5   star   restaurant,   hoping   the   right   people   would   discover   her   there

having   lost   the   comfort   music   once   gave   her,   hyejin   decided   to   take   up   a   job   as   a   florist   &   keeps   herself   busy   tending   to   flowers.   it   isn’t   her   ideal   career   plan,   but   at   least   she’s   moving   forward   with   her   life

throughout   the   years   she   kept   uploading   videos   of   her   playing   piano   on   youtube,   each   video   getting   about   900k   views   on   average.   it   allows   her   to   be   fairly   recognizable   on   her   own   accord,   although   most   of   her   fame   comes   from   being   associated   with   her   brother.   she’s   starting   to   climb   in   popularity,   though,   spending   some   of   her   time   to   focus   on   crafting   a   stronger   social   media   presence

｡*    ❪       📂   𝐂://PERSONALITY.

🦋   𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚈 - 𝚜𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊

click me !

empathic,   romantic,   impressionable,   &   imaginative   -   hyejin   tends   to   see   the   world   through   a   rose   colored   glass  ;   the   harsh   realities   of   life   often   making   her   want   to   indulge   in   escapism.   overall   a   generous   and   kind   person

can’t   handle   pressure   well,   ultimately   she’s   a   perfectionist.   hyejin   has   a   specific   vision   of   how   she   wants   her   life   to   play   out,   &   if   anything   interferes   with   that   she   might   feel   devastated   &   defeated.   however,   she’s   quick   to   get   back   on   her   feet   &  continue   pursuing   what   she   was   working   on

obsessed   with   fairytale   romances,   used   to   read   countless   of   young   adult   novels   hoping   she’d   experience   love   like   that.   hyejin   easily   tends   to   romanticize   &   idealize   the   people   she’s   fond   of,   thinking   they   can   do   no   wrong   in   her   eyes   &   putting   them   on   a   pedestal   *coughs* minho :( 

despite   all   of   that   she   has   a   great   intuition,   hypersensitive   to   her   environment.   she’s   often   aware   of   other   people’s   emotions,   meaning   when   someone   or   something’s   off   she   usually   able   to   identify   such   things   immediately

would   prefer   to   avoid   conflict   at   all   cost   as   well,   she   doesn’t   enjoy   being   faced   with   consequences   of   her   own   actions

at   first   glance   she   can   appear   rather   stand-offish   as   well,   not   really   the   type   to   walk   up   to   someone   &   handle   small   talk   in   an   eloquent   way.   she’s   shy   &   an   introvert,   the   type   to   hide   behind   her   mother   whenever   someone   addressed   her   when   she   was   younger.   hyejin   is   only   able   to   come   out   of   her   shell   around   people   she   knows   she   can   trust

channels   all   of   her   feelings   into   her   art  !!

｡*    ❪       📂   𝐂://WANTED CONNECTIONS.

💌   𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙲 - 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐��𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜   (   open to m/f/nb muses !   )

current   flings  

will   they   /   won’t   they  

friends   with   benefits   (   one-sided,   purely   platonic,   etc…   )  

unrequited   love   type   of   thing   (   either   hyejin   or   your   muse  )  

fake   dating   au  

exes   on   bad   terms  

exes   on   good   terms  

enemies   to   friends   (   ?   )   to   lovers   /   flings   (   ?   )   to   exes   (   ?   )   (   we   can   do   this   however   you   see   fit   !   )

one   of   them   caught   feelings  (  thinking   they   had   something   special  )   &   suddenly   the   other   ghosted,   perhaps   leaving   behind   a   bruised   ego   )  

💌   ����𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙸𝙲 - 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜   (   open to m/f/nb muses !   )

best   friend  

good   influence  

bad   influence  

childhood   friends  

protective   type   of   friendship   (   can   go   either   way   !   )  

confidants  

someone   (   preferably   an   artist   )  hyejin   looks   up   to  

friends   who   hang   out   purely   because   it’s   good   for   their   public   image  

secret   type   of   friendship   where   being   seen   together   in   public   would   damage   their   image,   aka   them   meeting   up   in   private   !  

were   set   up   on   a   blind   date   together,   hit   it   off   in   a   platonic   way   &   became   really   good   friends   <33  

only   hang   out   because   of   mutual   friends

💌   𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙴𝙾𝚄𝚂 - 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜   (   open to m/f/nb muses !   )

hyejin’s   muse   aka   whenever   she   sees   them   she   gets   inspired   to   write   a   song   or   two   <3  

blackmailing   type   of   plots  

general   dislike   for   each   other,   they   simply   do   not   vibe  

someone   hyejin   teaches   how   to   play   piano  

rivalry,   they   see   each   other   as   competition  

have   shared   secret   where   both   of   them   are/were   involved   in   a   situation,   &  promised   secrecy   to   each   other

@foolsstarters​ 

[medicifm]

*  not  me  actually  writing  an  intro  the  night  before  like  i  always  mean  to  😳  hennyway  hey  biddies  ,  i'm  chloe  ,  im  in  the  snowy  part  of  pst  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pns  .  i’ve  been  . . . . . . .  scouring  the  tags  for  an  rp  like  this  so  im  so  excited  to  bring  this  newish  muse  of  mine  here  !   im  here to  do  the  honours  of  introducing  my  himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside  . . .  oscar  🤡

(  twenty  three , cis  man , he / him  ) ✉ ― hey  babes , have  you  met  OSCAR  MEDICI ?  they’re  working  here  as  THE  HEAD  CHEF  AT  LORENZO’S ,  a  few  villas  down  from  where  you’re  staying  .  you  might  hear  them  singing  ALRIGHTY  APHRODITE  BY  PEACH  PIT  playing  from  their  villa  ,  it’s  their  favourite  song  .  yes  ,  they  hear  that  they  look  like  JACK  GILINSKY  a  lot  ,  actually  -  it’s  really  uncanny  .  their  friends  back  home  in  SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA  say  that  if  they  were  on  a  tv  show  ,  their  trope  would  be  THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP’S  CLOTHING  ,  how  funny  is  that  ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢  .

pinterest  |  wanted  plots  |  

𝐢𝐢  .

name  :  oscar  gabriel  medici

age  :  twenty  three

dob  /  sign  :  december  4th  ,  1997  /  sagittarius  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  libra  rising 

pob  :  sydney , australia

gender / pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he / him / his

career :  head  chef  at  lorenzo’s  ,  full - time  heathen  ,  professional  disappointment  for  mothers  everywhere  .

drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / more  often  than  he’d  admit / never .  

religion  :  jewish  background  ,  currently  non - practicing .

physical  :  jack  gilinsky  fc ,  dark  brown / black  longish  curls  (  reference  )  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  canon  jack  g’s  tattoos  ,  no  piercings  ,  6′2″  ,  175  lbs  ,  lean  but  strong  .  tattoos  a  la  canon!jack  ,  pearly  white  smile  that  he  may  . . .  or  may  not  . . .   use  crest  3D  white  strips  weekly  to  maintain  .  lots  of  burns  &  scars  from  kitchen  mishaps  on  his  hands  &  arms  .

traits  :  hard - working  ,  flighty  ,  intelligent  ,  hedonistic  ,  charismatic  ,  intense  ,  volatile  ,  

other  :  speaks  weird  french  (  aussie  accent  tings  )  ,  tans  easily  but  wears  sunscreen  nonetheless  ,  works  hard  parties  harder  ,  can’t  read  a  lick  of  french  but  spends  a  lot  of  his  free  time  with  a  coffee  &  a  new  paperback  ,  has  a  bit  of  an  internal  vendetta  against  rich  people  (  for  no  real  reason  ,  he  just  doesn’t  like  most  of  them  )  ,  has  ins  with  a  bunch  the  local  farmers  &  visits  them  weekly  ,  pretends  he  isn’t  lowkey  addicted  to  nicotine  administered  via  a  puff  bar  ,  liquor  of  preference  is  tequila  or  red  wine  ,  drives  a  lil  vespa  around  town  for  the  gag  of  it  (  loves  seeing  it  haphazardly  parked  amongst  a  bunch  of  luxury  cars  )  ,  

character  inspo  :  jess  mariano  (  gilmore  girls  )  , gordon  ramsey  🤡 ,  patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢  .

oscar’s  arrival  was  as  unwanted  to  his  parents  as  could  be  :  a  father  whose  tendencies  leaned  towards  alcoholism  &  abusing  whoever  was  in  arms  reach  ,  a  mother  whose  life  was  more  or  less  spent  at  the  nursing  home  she  worked  as  a  nurse  at  ,  evading  home  .  he  became  a  self - inflicted  loner  ,  preferring  to  do  literally  the  exact  opposite  of  what  was  expected  or  wanted  from  him  .  he  had  a  few  friends  he  ran  with  ,  but  watching  them  all  go  off  &  study  or  prepare  for  university  solidified  in  oscar’s  mind  that  the  non - traditional  route  was  for  him  .  growing  up  by  the  water  ,  oscar  always  felt  more  drawn  to  skip  school  &  head  to  the  beach  than  he  did  obeying  his  parents  wishes  .   

one  of  his  solaces  was  his  grandfather  ,  gabriel  ,  who  owned  an  italian  restaurant  in  a  beach  town  north  of  sydney  .  whenever  the  weather  was bad  &  oscar  felt  like  ditching  class  ,  he’d  head  over  to  his  nono’s  restaurant  where  his  ass  would  be  put  to  work  as  soon  as  he  set  eyes  on  the  restaurant  .  it  was  tough  work  ,  but  challenging  in  a  way  that  fanned  the  flames  in  oscar’s  heart  ,  rather  than  dimming  them  .  by  the  time  he was  a  teenager  he  was  working  in  the  restaurant  everyday  after  school  , an  agreement  between  him  &  his  grandfather  framed  on  the  back  wall  that  stated  that  as  long  as  oscar  kept  from  flunking  out  ,  he  was  allowed  to  spend  as  little  or  as  much  time  in  the  kitchen  as  he  pleased .  

his  absolute  defiance  of  anything  traditional  &  following  the  rules  made  him  unpopular  with  adults  ,  but  lowkey  cool  with  the  girls  .  by  the  time  he  was  sixteen  ,  he  was  losing  his  focus  on  the  restaurant  &  his  grades  &  spending  more  &  more  time  chasing  after  girls  .  his  nono  tried  to  get oscar  to  come  back  &  focus  ,  but  as  always  ,  anything  he’s  asked  to  do  quickly  becomes  the  thing  he’s  running  from  the  most  .

tw  :  death  ,  cancer  .  around  his  eighteenth  birthday  ,  his  grandfather  suddenly  fell  ill  with  a  rare  form  of  cancer  that  took  his  life  six  weeks  after  diagnosis  ,  which  rocked  oscar’s  world  .  he  felt  overwhelming  guilt  that  he  hadn’t  spent  more  time  with  his  grandfather  ,  which  manifested  itself  as  oscar  dropping  out  of  school  a  year  shy  of  graduation  to  commit  himself  fully  to  perfecting  his  grandfather’s  techniques  ,  learning  all  of  his  recipes  (  read  :  pouring  over  dozens  of  handwritten  cookbooks )  in  some  failed  attempt  to  get  back  some  time  with  him  .  oscar  hadn’t  been  close  with  his  parents  in  years  ,  more  or  less  seeing  them  as  wardens  of  a  prison  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  .  his  grandfather’s  will  left  him  the  deed  to  the  restaurant  ,  with  an  ask  that  oscar  would  promise  to  act  on  whatever  he  felt  called  towards  ,  rather  than  doing  what  others  expected  of  him  .  to  be  candid  ,  this  whole  situation  crushed  him  .

eventually  ,  he  decided  he’d  had  enough  of  the  stifling  community  he’d  grown  up  in  .  he  sold  the  restaurant  to  one  of  the  regulars  ,  a  wealthy  man  who  he’d  come  to  acknowledge  as  somewhat  of  an  uncle  ;  a  safe  pair  of  hands  who  would  treat  his grandfather’s  legacy  with  as  much  passion  &  respect  as  oscar  himself  would  .  so  he  packed  a  bag  ,  texted  his  mom  that  he  was  going  traveling  ,  &  got  on  a  flight  that  evening  .  he  traveled  all  around  -  first  through  central  america  ,  then  through  europe  ,  throughout  asia  &  africa  ,  &  spent  a  few  months  driving  a  van  across  the  continental  united  states  &  canada  for  fun  . 

eventually  ,  he  started  getting  low - ish  on  money  ,  &  decided  to  settle  in  one  of  his  favourite  places  he’d  visited  :  southern  france  .  he  arrived  in  early  2018  ,  taking  on  whatever  menial  tasks  he  could  while  learning  french  until  he  got  a  position  as  a  line  cook  in  an  italian  restaurant  .  a  few  years  later  ,  he’s  made  his  way  up  to  filling  the  head  chef  position  ,  an  honour  he  takes  with  pride  .  he’s  implemented  many  of  his  own  recipes  while  using  flavours  he’s  learned  from  his  travels  ,  with  ingredients  straight  from  local  farmers  .  he’s  earned  the  restaurant  a  two michelin  star  rating  ,  &  is  constantly  striving  for  more  to  get  that  last  star  (  both  for  his  own  ego  as  well  as  a  secret  debt  to  his  grandfather  )  .

𝐢𝐯  .

ok  but  that  vid  where  gordon  puts  two  pieces  of  bread  on  someone’s  head  &  calls  them  an  idiot  sandwich  ?  that’s  oscar  .  intense  as  fuck  in  the  kitchen  ,  &  best  nobody  catch  an  attitude  about  it  bc  he  will  not  hesitate  to  hand  them  their  ass  on  a  silver  platter  .

another  gordon  reference  :  you  know  how  he’s  the  spawn  of  satan with  adults  ,  but  the  sweetest  ,  most  helpul  guy  with  children  ?  that’s  oscar  with  his  staff  vs  people  he  wants  something  from  .  whether  its  to  sleep  with  them  (  usually  his  first  instinct  to  be  fair  )  ,  their  money  or  clout  ,  or  to  get  into  some  wild  adventure  some  random  resort  staff  wouldn’t  dream  of  getting  into  ,  he  can  turn  on  the  charm  whenever  needed  .

can  go  from  absolutely  demoralizing  someone  in  the  kitchen  to  stepping  out  into  the  lounge  to  schmooze  with  his  friends  or  cougars  who  leave  phat  tips  in  0.2  seconds  .  the  speed  at  which  his  mood  can  completely  180  is  one  of  the  seven  world  wonders  (  last  i  checked  )  .

his  love  language  is  absolutely  acts  of  service  .  catch  him  actually  falling  in  love  once  in  a  blue  moon  &  making  it  his  mission  to  cook  her  extravagant  meals  everyday  .  

the  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  label  epitomizes  his  nice  ,  helpful  ,  charismatic  exterior  ,  while  ulterior  motives  &  disdain  for  those  who  grew  up  with  more  money  than  he  did  lurk  beneath  the  surface  . 

he  can  be  MEAN  when  someone  fucks  him  over  or  pushes  him  farther  than  he  wants  -  isn’t  afraid  to  go  for  the  low  blows  or  send  someone  home  with  an  identity  crisis  if  it  protects  himself  .

lowkey  alcoholic  but  he’s  not  ready  for  that  conversation  yet  .  he  sees  it  more  as  perks  of  the  location  &  atmosphere  he’s  found  himself  in  .

also  lowkey  falls  in  love  HARD  ,  like  this  man  is  a  closeted  romantic  but  self - sabotages  all  potential  relationships  before  they  can  get  to  that  point  out  of  fear  he’ll  be  unable  to  live  life  of  his  own  volition  (  takes  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  to  know  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  🤡  )  .  has  probably  only  had  a  few  real  relationships  besides  flings  bc  he’s  afraid  .

𝐯  .

check  out  my  wanted  plots  tag  listed  here  ,  as  well  as  my  pinterest  wanted  plots  board  here  .  here   are  some  other  suggestions  hehe  :

best  friend  /  ride  or  die  :  someone  who  knows  about  his  past  ,  keeps  him  grounded  when  he’s  lk  spiraling  &  wants  to  drop  everything  &  flee  to  some  far  flung  corner  of  the  earth  .

actual  relationship  :  it  was  fast - burn  with  deep  feelings  (  not  them  thinking  they’re  soulmates  after  dating  for  a  month  . . .  pete  &  ariana  type  beat  )  but  completely  unrealistic  .  they  have  their  own  life  ,  he’s  pretty  much  tied  to  the  restaurant  ,  not  to  mention  his  lack  of  sharing  anything  about  his  childhood / life  back  home  .  they  loved  &  cared  for  each  other  ,  but  crashed  &  burned  fairly  quickly  because  of  how  idealistic  it  was  .  they  can  either  be  on  bad  or  good  terms  now  .

hateship  with  sexual  tension  😈

summer  flings  !!

fake  boyfriend  :  he  shows  up  on  her  arm  to  her  family’s  events  where  she’s  expected  to  have  a  partner  .  it’s  not  a  real  relationship  ,  but  her  parents  don’t  need  to  know  that  .  he  plays  the  part  &  satisfies  her  parents  beyond  the  bare  minimum  ,  &  in  return  she  invites  him  to  parties  ,  takes  him  out  on  her  family’s  yacht  ,  etc  etc  .  we  luv  some  symbiosis  

i  can  always  use  more  fwbs  hehehe

squad  :  a  group  of  people  who  do  everything  together  ,  have  a  chaotic  group  chat  ,  have  nicknames  for  one  another  ,  are  utd  on  each  other’s  sex  lives  ,  party  all  night  then  show  up  to  brunch  hungover  together  .  

cat  &  mouse  :  someone  he’s  pursuing  who  isn’t  quite  giving  in  ,  &  vice  versa  .  maybe  it’s  been  going  on  a  few  years  ,  everytime  they’re  in  st  tropez  they  have  this  weird  lil  flirtationship  thing  goin  on  until  she  leaves  ,  they  forget  about  one  another  ,  then  pick  it  right  back  up  when  she  returns  .

confidant  :  preferably  someone  from  a  working  class  background  who  understands  his  plight  of  being  a  worker  amongst  people  who  expect  to  be  waited  on  .

enemies  :  they  don’t  like  his  attitude  ,  &  he  doesn’t  like  them  in  return  .  lots  of  eye  rolls  ,  shit  talking  ,  &  tension  between  their  mutual  friends  .

we’re  sleeping  together  but  we  shouldn’t  be  but  that’s  half  the  fun :  for  whatever  reason  they  became  friends  ,  starting  hooking  up  despite  it  not  being  a  good  idea  (  read  :  he’s  exes  with  one  of  her  friends  ,  her  parents  want  her  focused  on  career  ,  they’re  part  of  the  same  friend  group  ,  etc )  . . . but  now  they  can’t  stop  .  lots  of  stolen  glances  across  rooms  ,  squeezing  past  one  another  in  a  crowded  club  just  close  enough  for  a  quick  touch  to  the  back  ,  quietly  leaving  one  another’s  places  the  morning  after  &  playing  dumb  to  anyone  who  asks  . 

[merakiaes]

Self Care - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: By @foggysportsbananawagon​ and anon. 

Prompts: #20, #21, #22 and #32 from the angst-list. 

Warning/notes: This is a combination of this, this and this request. It turned out a bit messier and more angsty than I originally planned so I’m warning you for cringe xD (NOT PROOFREAD)

Wordcount: 3667

Summary: Following John’s death, Finn has been trying to fill the empty space left behind by taking on too much work, something that causes conflict between the two of you.

Finn Shelby was way too good for the business his family was running. Hell, he was too good for all of Birmingham, and probably too good for you, as well. But still, you had been together for a year now.

You had grown up jumping around between families and orphanages and most of the orphanages and families had treated you alright.

But you were a handful growing up, acting out because of the lack of stability in your life, so you never got to stay very long at the same place.

As you entered your early teenage years, you cleaned up your act. Or, well, you got better at concealing your anger, and this resulted in your final family keeping you for all time to come.

Unfortunately for you, however, the final family ended up being the only one to not treat you alright.

The family consisted of a woman, her husband and their three sons, all of whom were older than you by a minimum of seven years, and all of whom were going to mentally and physically abuse and sexually harass you for the next five years of your life.

The first three years, between the ages twelve and fifteen, you were still a weak, lanky little thing who, despite already having quite the temper, was too scared to actually do anything when the three brothers started asking, or rather demanding you, for… favors.

You guessed you were lucky in a way that your body blossomed very late as you during those first years “only” had to touch them but got away without being touched yourself.

But once you passed fifteen you grew into your feminine shapes, which caught their attention in an entirely different way. They tried to force themselves on you, but curves weren’t the only thing you developed.

With them, your muscle mass also increased, which made you able to defend yourself, which in turn, caused the sexual exploitation to take a more violent turn.

Everyone in your neighborhood knew what was going on. They saw the bruises on your arms and the vulnerable look behind your eyes.

But everyone turned a blind eye to the entire situation, shrugging it of with the reasoning that ‘war did that to a man’ and that it was ‘only natural for them to crave physical intimacy after being alone and scared for so long’.

This went on until you neared your eighteenth birthday, when finally, someone stepped in and did something.

The Shelby brothers.

They were passing through your town on business, heard the yelling and cursing coming from both you and your supposed “brothers”, and discovered the four of you in an alley behind a shop, where you were cursing them out and swinging at them with a metal pipe while they laughed and tried grabbing at your dress.

Now, violence against women wasn’t unusual in the slums of Small Heath, and usually, they wouldn’t bat an eye. But you were young, they were three against one, and you had a certain fire to you that they couldn’t turn a blind eye to.

John was the first one to come to your rescue, taking you under his arm and pulling you away to allow Arthur and Tommy to do what Peaky Blinders did best; slash their eyes out with their blades and leave them to bleed to death.

Even though you had been fighting back with more ferocity than most women sported, you were really shaken up and refused to leave John’s side during the entire ride back to Small Heath.

And even when you had arrived at the Shelby household where Polly greeted you with open arms, they noticed by the way you would glare at everyone else, that John wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.

So he stayed the entire time Polly cleaned your cuts and took care of you, and by the time Finn arrived back home from the boxing ring with Isaiah in tow later that night, you had calmed down and was sitting at the kitchen table playing cards and joking around with John and Arthur while Tommy and Polly sat by watching.

You hadn’t had the most gracious first meeting with the youngest of the Shelby siblings, seeing as this was the time he had began developing his whole hostile “I can do what I want because I’m a Shelby”-attitude.

But after a cuff upside the head with the kitchen towel from Polly, he had to get to terms with the fact that you were going to be staying with them. And only a few days into it, it was all good.

John tried keeping you out of the family business to his best ability, but once in a while he allowed you to come along on the safer jobs, where he was certain no violence would be involved.

You basically either followed John around wherever he went or helped Esme out with the kids when he wasn’t able to. And Finn, he followed you around wherever you went, which wasn’t all too appalling.

John took care of you and you started taking care of Finn once your relationship took a romantic turn, and that’s how it continued for almost a year. Until John passed away at the hands of Changretta, breaking the entire family apart.

You had never felt such an intense sorrow as you did at John’s passing, not even over your own parents. After all, he had been the one to look after you for the past year, taking you in as if you were one of his own.

Two months had passed since his funeral, and although you got along with the rest of the family, you weren’t as close with them as you were John and Finn, so the latter was pretty much the only one you had left.

At least that’s how it felt. And now you were losing him too.

Ever since John died, he had been trying to fill in the empty space he left being, trying to walk in his footsteps by taking on more work and responsibility than he was able to handle, pushing you away in the process.

You had tried voicing your worries a few times, but he had always waved it off and walked away. And you didn’t want to pressure him, knowing that he was mourning and therefor wanting to give him the time he needed.

But now it was getting ridiculous, and you couldn’t be quiet any longer.

The walk from your shared house to his office wasn’t very long, but it felt longer today as the weather was absolutely horrid.

Rain was pouring down and hitting the top of your head roughly, and no matter how hard you hugged your coat around your form, you still couldn’t stop the slight tremble that was going through your body.

To say you were happy to get inside once you reached your destination was a huge understatement.

You stopped in the doorway briefly to shake the rain off your arms, unbuttoning your black coat and slicking your wet hair back so that it wasn’t sticking to your face before continuing into the building and in the direction of Finn’s office.

His door was closed, something that rarely happened unless the two of you were fooling around, which instantly caused suspicion to arise inside of you.

You quickened your pace, the heels of your shoes clicking against the hard wooden floors, and you wasted no time in flinging the door open upon reaching it, your eyes instantly spotting Finn snorting a line of snow from the surface of his messy desk.

He instantly raised his head at the sound of the door hitting the wall, sniffing and using his fingers to rid of the excess powder from his nose.

He didn’t have the chance to say anything though, as you were already marching over to him with furious steps and wasting no time in wiping the two remaining lines off of the desk, watching the white powder spread into the air.

“What the fuck, Finn?!” You exclaimed, dropping the bag in your hand to the floor. “You told me you quit with the snow!”

Unlike the soft eyes he would usually look at you with, his eyes only showed pure anger, staring back at you harshly.

“I did.” He glowered down at you. “I just needed some fucking release.”

“Release?!” You yelled, throwing your arms out. “You’re addicted, Finn! It’s not healthy, none of this is healthy!”

“It’s my life! I’m an adult and a fucking Peaky Blinder, I can do whatever the fuck I want and you don’t get to decide what’s healthy and not for me!” He yelled back, which only made you more agitated than you already were.

“How daft can you be?!” You demanded. “Open your eyes! This behavior is the result of your brothers constantly using you to do their dirty work and not sparing a single thought to how it’s affecting you! They’re working you to an early grave!”

Finn stepped around his desk quickly at that, raising a finger and pointing it in your face while his other hand stayed in a fist at his side.

“Don’t talk about my brothers like that.” He snapped. “You have no right.”

You scoffed at his words, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I have every right.” You corrected him, glaring fiercely and fearlessly into his eyes. “I love them like my own flesh and blood but they’re idiots. Tommy has the emotional range of a fucking teaspoon, Arthur is as independent as a five year old and no matter how much I love and care for them, I love you more, and I’m fucking tired of how they’re just turning the cold shoulder to how you’re turning out. It needs to stop and if you’re not going to tell them to lay off on you, I’ll do it myself. In fact, I’ll go do it right now.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned whipped around and moved to head back the way you had just come from, but you only got to take one single step before Finn’s hand clamped down around your upper arm.

Your brain instantly went into panic mode at the feeling of his tight grasp squeezing your flesh. It didn’t hurt, but the feeling triggered the hundreds of traumatizing memories you still struggled to bury from your years spent with your last family.

The feeling of the three brothers’ hands on your body, trying to feel you up, and then hitting you with all their might when you wouldn’t let them.

“Why can’t you just stop putting your nose in other people’s business, (Y/N)?” Finn yelled at you, still holding on to your arm. “I can’t take it, no one can take it! You’re fucking insufferable!”

In any other case, his words probably would’ve brought tears to your eyes, but right now, you could barely even register them as they were spoken. Instead, the cause of the uncomfortable stinging feeling in your eyes was the painful memories being brought back to the surface by the familiar and dreaded feeling of being manhandled.

Your eyes slowly looked away from his and to the side, glazing over as your breathing got heavier and heavier.

Finn was still speaking. You couldn’t hear him, but you could see his lips moving in the corner of your eyes. When you suddenly stopped responding, however, your arm now handing limply in his hand, he instantly came to his senses and let you go.

And the second he did, your senses returned to normal and you began coming back to reality, now being able to hear his voice again.

“I’m sorry.” He told you, his voice coming out as a breath. He took a step back, seeming to get lost in thought for a moment before he regained his composure and walked up to you again, grabbing a hold of both of your upper arms but this time a lot gentler.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, bringing his thumbs up to your cheeks. “Please don’t cry.”

You hadn’t even realized the stinging in your eyes had turned into fully developed tears until you felt the wetness between his thumb and your cheek.

Raising your eyes back to meet his, you noticed that all of the anger previously held behind his baby blues were gone and replaced with guilt.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He whispered, taking another step closer to you and joining the hand that wasn’t wiping away at your cheeks with one of yours. “I’m sorry.”

As he closed his eyes and leaned down to press his forehead against yours, you took a deep breath, responding to his actions by squeezing his hand in yours.

“You didn’t hurt me you idiot.” You whispered, causing him to open his eyes again. “What’s hurting me is that you’re hurting yourself.”

You swallowed, feeling a new set of tears building up at the brim of your eyes. “You’re killing yourself by trying to fill John’s shoes. I cared for him just as much as the rest of you. He was the one who got me out of that horrible place, out of the grasp of those even more horrible people. He saved me and now he’s gone and it breaks my fuckin heart every day. But you’re not him. You’re not supposed to be him. No one is, but him, himself.”

You paused briefly, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears from falling, but it was to no use.

“I know it hurts and that you’re scared.” You continued with a shaky voice. “But it’s not your fault and no one is going to hurt you. I’ve tried to help; I try to talk to you about how you feel but you just keep pushing me away.”

You opened your eyes to look at him again. His nostrils were flaring slightly and his jaw was tense, a clear sign that he was trying his hardest not to let his walls down, and the words leaving his lips a second later did nothing to prove the opposite.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He shook his head, removing his forehead from yours and taking a step back. “I’m fine.”

Your body grew cold again when he walked away from you to lean on his desk, and you instantly found yourself missing the feeling of his skin against yours.

“That’s what you always say, but it’s not true, is it?” You inquired. “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so, don’t lie and pretend you’re fine when you clearly aren’t.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to get some of the warmth he had taken with him back, but it did nothing. You let out a shaky breath, squeezing at your own arms.

“You can’t make everyone happy.” You sniffed. “You can do anything, because quite frankly you’re fucking amazing, but you can’t do everything. The person who tries to keep everyone happy often ends up feeling the loneliest. Just look at your brothers. They have families that love them, but they’re both fucking miserable because they keep pushing everyone who care about them away. John was the only one who didn’t. You want to be like him? Follow his example on that. Don’t try to be like him with the sole purpose of proving yourself to Tommy. I know you think you have something to prove but you don’t. And either way, you shouldn’t even feel like you have to prove your worth to your own fucking brothers. They’re supposed to see it by themselves, and if they don’t, then fuck them. In fact, fuck everyone else. A lot of what weighs you down isn’t yours to carry to begin with. If someone asks you to do more and you have a big reaction inside, it may be a sign that you’re already doing too much. You can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love. You have to think about yourself, Finn.”

You finished your long rant with a deep breath, barely even having taken a second to breathe in between sentences and being left winded.

Finn was still leaning on his desk, his hands squeezing the edge of the wood to the point where his knuckles were turning white. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, another clear sign that he had been working way too hard, and his back was rising and falling as he breathed heavily.

Even though he was turned away from you, you could see clearly that he was trying his hardest to keep his cool as he listened to your rant, without a doubt just as conflicted by his own feelings like he always was these days.

“They need me.” He responded without moving an inch. “They need me to step up and fill the space he left behind. You just… you don’t understand.”

But you did. You understood better than anyone.

“You’re wrong.” You shook your head. “They don’t need you. I’m the one who needs you. I’m all alone and I-“

You had to cut yourself short as you were overcome with sadness, having to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep the sob from leaving your lips.

“And I… I don’t know how much longer I can stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I already lost John. I can’t lose you too.”

This time, you couldn’t keep the sob in no matter how hard you tried, and Finn perked up immediately at the sound, pushing himself off the desk as you continued, now staring down at the floor.

“You’re slipping through my fingers, Finn, and I can’t seem to stop you from slipping further and further away. If this is how things are going to be, I don’t know if I can stay with you. With any of you. I can’t take the helplessness; I can’t take all of the chaos. I need something stable, and besides John when he was still alive, you were the only stable thing I had. And now you’re just…”

You couldn’t find the right words, but you clearly got your point across as Finn whipped around faster than a man finding out the pregnancy test results.

“No.” He shook his head, marching over to you and taking your face in his hands, pressing his forehead against yours and looking into your eyes so desperately. “You can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve got. I’ll change, I promise. I’ll start listening to you. Please.”

You could barely comprehend the words spilling out of his mouth, they were coming out so rushed.

“I don’t want you to listen to me.” You answered, giving him a stern look. “I want you to see things for what they are and stop trying please everyone and listen to and take care of yourself.”

He looked at you, scanned your face and searched your eyes for something you didn’t know. You stayed like that for another few seconds, just looking at each other. And then he nodded, moving his hands away from your face to the small chest pocket in his vest, pulling out a small bag of the same white powder you had caught him snorting when first arriving.

Your eyes hardened at the sight of the substance, your mouth turning sour. “What are you doing?” You asked, glaring slightly.

But he was completely unbothered, simply answering; “I’m taking care of myself.”, before turning around and walking over to the fire to the right of his desk, where he tossed the small bag into the flames, the plastic letting out a loud sparkling sound when it met with the heat.

“Finn.” You called out, wrapping your arms around yourself once again to make up for the warmth that he had taken with him.

But he didn’t listen, simply going over to his liquor cabinet and grabbing the two half-full bottles standing on the middle shelf, walking straight past you again and heading directly for the window where he started pouring out the contents of the first bottle.

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, calling out again. “Finn.”

But yet again, you got no answer. He just put down the now empty bottle and picked up the second one, starting to undo the lid.

With a sigh, you uncrossed your arms and walked up to him, ignoring the chill that overcame you when the cold air from the window hit your clothes that were still wet from the rain, and grabbed a hold of the bottle just as he was about to start pouring it out.

You pulled it out of his grasp and put it down on the windowsill, and then proceeded to grab a hold of his upper arms to turn him to look at you.

He was breathing heavily and looking like he was on the verge of crying, which only proved further how broken and overworked he really was.

Your tears had finally stopped falling, and your sobbing had ceased. You sniffled, bringing his face down to yours like he had done to you only moments before, but rather than resting your forehead against his, you pressed a kiss to his lips.

His hands moved to your waist out of pure instinct, pulling you closer.

You pushed your lips harder against his before breaking apart slightly, not enough to stop your lips from touching but enough to allow you to speak.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, moving your hands from his face to the back of his head. “I promise.”

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer by your waist. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your skin, and you took a shaky breath, letting your eyes fall shut too.

“I know.”