#That's also why I'm less talkative than normal ^_^;

[alwaysless]

What time period do you think Prospero is from?

As it turns out we actually have quite a lot of details about Prospero's culture and period of life. More than I expected, considering just one full-fledged flashback (in case you're wondering why I spent so much time on this analysis). Long story short - I would say 1900-1910.

To talk in more detail, first I'll focus on what we know from the main timeline. As I mentioned earlier I'm of the opinion that the entire main cast hails from the 20th century. However there is a problem with Prospero: jabot is in his nevermore uniform. He calls it a cravat but like. it's clearly a jabot.

Unlike a cravat a jabot is a rather old–fashioned accessory which mostly disappeared from the men's wardrobe by the middle of the 19th century. Prospero may look like the most fashion conservative person but cmon not that much. Earlier someone pointed out to me that we don't necessarily have to judge students' lifetime based on their school uniforms (i mean women of the Lenore class didn't wear trousers in that era, Annabel clearly did not wear skirts above her knees during her lifetime and the origin of the bolo tie worn by Monty in the first season gives me a headache). I do not rule out that RnF designed academie uniforms based more on vibes than on the time period fashion.

For the last meal Prospero chooses cannoli and espresso. Espresso as a method of making coffee in a more or less traditional form was patented in 1884  (although the coffee machine version of that time was apparently very uh. rough draft i would say. most sources will tell you that espresso was popularized in the 1900). The term espresso itself is also found in various sources of the first decade of the 20th century.

Now I will study his flashback frame by frame and line by line.

The disease he talks about in the flashbacks is most likely tuberculosis. At least the symptoms of hemoptysis coincide. Besides tuberculosis was treated for a long time in sanatoriums, where as mentioned Prospero worked.

The tuberculosis vaccine was invented in 1921, but it became widespread much later. The first most effective antibiotic was found in 1944. Prospero however claims that there is no cure, so the flashback obviously takes place much earlier, probably even before the invention of the vaccine.

Before the invention of drug treatment, tuberculosis was treated, among other things, with surgical intervention: pneumothorax, pneumonolysis or even removal of a part of the lung. Do you know what tuberculosis surgery reminded me of? Prospero`s hallucinations.

but im just saying. we digress.

So we know that Prospero and his family are Sicilian immigrants. Apparently emigration from Italy to the United States was most active in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and later Sicilian immigration was greatly hampered by WWI and the U.S. Immigration Act of 1924. According to Prospero`s cousin, many in their family did not attend school which corresponds to the low level of education among the Sicilian immigrants of the first wave: given the neglect and discrimination towards them, they simply did not trust the American education system and were not eager to adapt among people who despised them.

As for dago slur, it was used against people of italian/hispanic origin in 1900 (more or less).

Aaaand let's finish the same way we started – fashion. In his flashback Prospero is wearing a cape coat, possibly an Ulster but not necessarily. From what I've found capes for men's coats gradually went out of style during the Edwardian era.

The same goes for his tie. I have no idea if it has a specific name but the bottom line is that it's a relic of the Victorian, or at best the Edwardian era. In the 1920s the Langford tie was invented, the one that we know as a normal modern tie. It actually pushed older fancy neckwears from the market, including that kind of large bow ties over the collar.

Anyway yeah rip Prospero you would have loved BCG vaccine.

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[tentglitch]

I'm crashing tf out grandson

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

socializing is so hard I'm like "yeah i finally got my depression done with forever (for real this time" and then I am in an environment with people and it's like "fuck how do I act i don't have the knowledge of the things should I be listening should I be looking I mean how do like verbal conversations work like they're clearly not oriented towards a goal in the same way emails are but they also just like don't have the same sort of "just kinda say things" that the internet has ok that's not fair I have held conversations, even if the initiation differs which is a big part of it but there is something different obviously like the expectation of latency & just basic woah you can't see them bit but also like it feels less direct. Oh and then now you have to deal with timing like 100x as often idk i think at the third time it's just time to give up. Though ok I mean I'm not incapable of verbal speech I can give answers in english class also why is my head burning and i mean i don't think my hands should be there do people care about that also i can't fathom the depravity of how i look"

[memorydragon]

Yup, still on my gay coproganda bs.

One of the more interesting things about Jiang Ting's character is how much he doesn't actually want to be a character. His defense mechanism is to turn the question around. We first see this when Yan Xie confronts him the first time about being 'Captain Jiang'. He asks Jiang Ting what he has to say about all of the things he'd uncovered about Jiang Ting's past, and Jiang Ting's response is "What do you want 'Captain Jiang' to say? Tell me and I'll say it."

And he does this so often. He could lie, he could tell a half-truth, instead he asks what the other person wants to hear. What they want him to be.

And guess what? I'm totally normal about that. XD

The earliest memory we have of him is as a child, cleaning his father's body and being grateful that he wasn't beaten today. He's too young to understand that his father overdosed (we get no information about his mother) and is already dead. He's too young to realize that the majority of the people in his small village are either addicts or dealers, that it's a miracle he was born without HIV. When he's sent to the orphanage, he's isolated and bullied, internalized that he's unclean and unlovable when he looks in the mirror. When Yan Xie gets angry at the corruption in the orphanage Bu Wei grew up in, he just replies that 'It's like that, in places like these.'

When Ma Xiang confronts him, asking him who he is really. Is he the mole that got Yan Xie shot and nearly killed, lying on an operating room table while they waited for news? Jiang Ting says it himself, he's the most suspicious out of all of them, because even swept under the rug, the rest of the division Knows something is off about their 'Consultant Lu'. Jiang Ting doesn't define himself. He says "I'm who your Yan-ge thinks I am."

Yan Xie listens to the half-truths he's spun about himself after he dragged Jiang Ting out of the river, and Jiang Ting tells him: The safest thing for you is to hand me over to the police. I can't make myself believe you, because I have nothing now. I can't respond to this feeling, because I don't want to lie to you. Whether you hand me in or not is up to you.

He even does this to Wen Shao, when his loyality is probed. "What do you want me to say?" Except Wen Shao thinks he understands Jiang Ting the best, that only Jiang Ting understands him. Jiang Ting tells the truth then, that the one who understood his reasons wasn't him. Yan Xie was the one who correctly guessed the motives.

Because Jiang Ting has never been wanted as himself. He was the child of drug addicts, tossed into a orphanage where the corruption was rampant and money went into the adult's hands more often than not. When he finally found a friend, someone who liked him and didn't chase him away, his first thought is of saving his friend. Wen Shao has money and a family who loves him, so it's okay if he dies as long as Wen Shao lives. When his friend betrays him, saves himself first, Jiang Ting is happy.

Except his first friend, the person who says now everything I have is yours and you will be my only brother, the one person who likes someone like Jiang Ting, is the son of a drug lord. He forces the kidnappers who hurt them to take heroin, then turns to Jiang Ting and asks if he's happy now.

The child who watched his father overdose and has finally learned to understand what drugs are, is forced to watch more people die the same way by the one person who was supposed to love him.

He's happy. He's very happy. (The lie is so weak - he's ten years old and he's never had to hide himself like this before, despite everything. He's only just realizing that his first lie was already made, because he can't be loyal to Wen Shao, not like this. But he lies, because what else can he do? )

Wu Tun adopted him to keep his son, Wen Shao, in check. He's a pawn, put into a good school and groomed to be a policeman with padded pockets who will let the drug cartel off. He hates - hates - that he has no choice in this, he just has to become the pawn Wu Tun wants.

Wen Shao returns and he's brought new, even worse drugs with him. He wants his Red Queen on his side, gives Jiang Ting an apartment to rest in, to take care of things that would be 'inconvienent' otherwise, and Jiang Ting hates and hates even more.

So he plans to kill the King of Spades, then take out the Ace of Clubs. It can't erase what he is, but maybe he can move forward. All the over time, the stress, the loneliness will be worth it. (I'm so very very Normal about how he can't just agree to hanging out with his coworkers, how he over thinks and decides half way to take the agreement back and say 'let's talk about it tomorrow'. Because he wants to go, for the first time in his life he wants to do something as simple as going out with coworkers - possibly friends.)

Except he's been sold out. His plan falls through. His team dies and he'll never be able to talk about it tomorrow, and when he runs into the fire, all that's left for him is three years of being comatose and the King of Spades going free.

When he meets Yan Xie, he hides. He wants to be what Yan Xie wants him to be, but he can't. He's still tied as the Queen of Hearts, haunted by the sins he's committed and the people who died. He comments that Yan Xie is blind falling for someone like him, calling him beautiful all the time. That this crush that he'd never allowed himself to pursue has come back into his life and wants to be picked by him.

The Red Queen's heart that was so full of hate now has something else. But even if Yan Xie was blind now, would he still love Jiang Ting when he saw the truth?

He hides and he hides and lies, and when the cards are drawn, he finally tells the truth, finds something to define himself by. "I love you, Yan Xie."

Yan Xie's faith in him is already broken. It has to be broken further. The best lie is the one that is the truth that no one believes.

[key0-m0ve-al0ng]

Adding to the ✨DID Problems✨ we deal w: having a system journal would be a HUGE waste of time if we weren't a system!! but since I Feel Like a Different Person every time I pick it up and find handwriting that is definitely not how I write (despite a lot of shared habits) it gets a little silly to be like "why did I do all this? why do I have this?"

Stop asking that lol like TF you mean "we don't know for sure?" I think we do. The symptoms don't match any other disorder bruh, not quite. We're not just "voices" in the head we all have to actively Do Things to keep this body and mind functioning. Pretty sure most people mainly got one stream of consciousness keeping track of that. We definitely aren't hallucinations because we have feelings that we distinctly feel apart from the rest of our brain, and again we're not just perceivable mentally we do things when we front. As much as we try not to (and why would we have to "try" in the first place) we all talk with noticeable differences that just come and go.

And why would I ever bother to write this much if no one else's hands touch the journal and no one else's eyes better see it? It's all "me," but it's a lot of different feelings altogether. Because I know they share my brain, but I don't feel like they are "me" at all. Even when I feel their feelings they feel different than "mine." What else could it be? come on now.

Final nail in my coffin, I know for a FACT that I don't use this blog often. But Chez does.

This has been the former host dragging himself out of denial, tune in next week when we try to finish a to-do list for once!

[keeperofthebees]

not sure if i ever posted my psychoanalysis of Lilo on here but here we go.

Lilo is neurodivergent. She might have autism, she might have OCD, she ABSOLUTELY has PTSD. These all have very many overlapping symptoms, so it's easy to get them mixed up.

Lilo rarely brings up her parents after they die, only to protect stitch. "Dad said ohana means family." She tells stitch about what happened to her parents before he leaves. She doesn't talk about her mom until she's brought up, and compares herself to her.

Lilo feeds Pudge, and that Used to be for fun. When she forgot to feed Pudge, her parents died. She decided therefore that Pudge controls the weather, and creates intricate rituals to make sure she does it Correctly. The harder the ritual, the more effort she has to put into it. If the weather gets bad again, it's easy for her to say she must have messed up the ritual with the wrong bread or the wrong filling. Maybe Pudge doesn't like peanut butter anymore. She's taking control of the only thing she can.

She's also EXTREMELY morbid for a girl her age. I know everyone says she's just like them for real, but there's a difference between playing pretend that you're dying and telling your sister to leave you alone to die. Some kids play dead because it's a concept they can't understand and they use that to figure it out. Lilo KNOWS what death is. She experienced the death of the two most important people in her young life. She's well aware of death. She mentions Picasso's blue period, his time of severe suicidal depression. She says that that's what her painting is. This is worrisome. She knows Picasso's blue period, words like abomination, asks Bubbles if he ever killed anyone and tells Nani to leave her to die. I know some of you think that's relatively normal for a little girl, but it is not, not the way she behaves.

She makes a doll, and claims that she's sad because she only has a few more [enter time period] before she dies. Why would she make this doll have such a tragic story? Well, that's what she knows. People die. It happens. Of course she's sad, but if it's everywhere, she can be less sad about it. Her doll is going to die.

She's also well aware of pain, which is why she's so violent. She doesn't understand that people don't have to forgive you when you're mean and violent, because her sister ALWAYS forgives her, and is sometimes mean in return. This is family. It's not her parents, but this is how it is now. She's mean to Nani, and Nani is mean back, and then they eat dinner. She's mean to her friends, and they're mean to her, but they don't let her play dolls so they need to be punished. Stitch is mean to her, and she desperately tries to prove that he isn't that bad. She knows that she shouldn't be so violent, so mean, but she doesn't know how not to, and she knows that her behavior is part of the reason she might get taken away.

Lilo projects heavily onto Stitch. She likes him because he's a weird little freak, but he's also HER. he's alone. He has one person who wants him, who cares. One person who gives him chance after chance and tries to get him to be good. If she can prove that Stitch can be good, then she can be good. She can get better, and not be such a burden to Nani. If Lilo can keep Stitch, then Nani can keep Lilo.

Lilo wants to stay with Nani, but she can't stop being the way she is. She can't stop screaming, and being violent, and running away and nor doing what she's told. She has very little emotional regulation due to the trauma she's endured, and she sees that in Stitch. She can teach him to control himself. She can be good. She can stay here with her one and only sister, all she has left. She begs Nani to like her more than she would a rabbit. I'm gonna cry

[r3ynah]

Barbiefied

dcxdp oneshot

Do you know how Barbie herself is such an icon that she works multiple jobs impossible for regular people?

Well, Danny's like that, but less of an icon and more of an eldritch cryptid—no one's that iconic than Barbie herself—he says.

Nevertheless, Danny after living in Amity Park for most of his life, grew bored and Jazz decided that it would do him good to move out for the sake of his mental health. But the only problem is Danny possesses a serious case of a hero complex.

I guess being a vigilante at the age of 14 has finally caught up to him—oh, well

He couldn't risk leaving Amity Park behind fearing that something would happen if he weren't there to act as the city's unloved vigilante later on, the next day Dani had visited him back from one of her journeys, and then an idea hit him.

So here he is now, with at least 100 clones around the world working interesting jobs or just exploring as he stays at Amity Park, his mind working at maximum speed as he devours every single memory made by his clones, Danny's honestly having a great time. He even gained friends from exploring and Regulars from his different Jobs!

Hal Jordan was baffled, it was the fourth time he had seen this boy Danny this week and it was only Tuesday, he was grabbing lunch at Chipotle and he came face to face with the same guy he ordered pizza from yesterday, his gaze never leaving the boy as he paid quietly and directly leaving the establishment, He must've been tired he thought to himself.

'You're just overreacting it's normal for people to have more than two jobs Hal, great that boy must think I'm a creep ' Hal said as he turned to a corner only to bump into someone.

" I'm so sorry, i wasn't looking-" he cut himself off as he faced the person he crashed into, there again was Danny— the same Danny he just saw not even a minute ago.

"It's alright" Danny said sheepishly. "Don't worry about it, I was also paying attention to where i was walking" and then he was out of sight dashed away from a stunned Hal.

"Danny? what are you doing here" Tim asked flabbergasted as he eyed the black haired boy in front of him.

"Oh- Hey Tim, I work here" Danny greeted casually as he pressed the buttons of the cash register in preparation "the usual?" he asked

"Why?" Tim asked confused,

Danny looked at him with a questioning look "Why what?"

"I mean— why are you working here?"

"For money?" Danny said unsure "I don't have enough to pay my bills and college tuition"

"You intern for me! I pay you." Tim stated clearly offended, he had the right to be, he gave money to interns generously, and alongside that Danny had a scholarship that provides allowances so he's pretty sure the boy in front of him is doing fine.

"Hey, inflation's a bitch" Danny shrugged "So the usual?" he asked again

Tim just sighed and nodded, This is just a problem he'll take care of later.

Little did he know, it was also everyone else's problem.

Constantine was rubbing his palms together nervously as he watched Zatanna chant the few words of the spell.

Just the other day Superman used his x-ray vision trying catch an assailant from a robbery who hid from him hiding amongst the jungle of cement buildings that is Metroplis, then he saw it a giant Lazarus pit that was below the Earth's surface hidden from the world that seemed to have a mind of it's own eating everything in its way including the Earth's core just to reach the surface to create havoc, without the core and its mass the planet will become unstable, and with it approaching the surface it'll endanger the people and environment leading to unimaginable catastrophes, so with no time to lose he immediately sought out Batman who then called an emergency meeting where they talked amongst themselves on how to solve this crisis.

And here he was currently surrounded by heroes that just look as nervous as he was.

Why were they nervous? oh it's nothing their just summoning THE HIGH KING PHANTOM OF THE INFINITY REALMS,

That he only just learned about this guys existence from Deadman and secret out of all people when they were asked why they didn't say anything earlier they said they couldn't talk about the realms without the permission of their king, so with enough pressure from their peers, they looked at each other with a hint of fear and uncertainty in their eyes and took the initiative in going to the infinity realms to request from the king himself, when they arrived before the king he only gave them a scroll that once used either successfully or unsuccessfully it will disintegrate leaving nothing behind to ever contact the ruler again, bidding both of the dead heroes goodbye and to send the message on his behalf.

When they returned back from the realm of the dead Deadman's aura was brighter than when they came in, relaying information and the scroll to Batman which he then passed to Zatanna— Constantine had a feeling Batman didn't trust him to lead with this summoning, but to be fair he didn't trust himself either, so yeah, Zatanna it is.

While they prepared the materials, he noticed Nightwing had made his way towards Secret to ask—interrogate— about Phantom, and Secret who also returned from the realms with a little bit of tension out of her shoulders only looked at the Vigilante and uttered the word "merciful" and then she was gone made herself intangible, along with Deadman.

Turning his attention away from the disappointed bird and onto the Summoning circle, he just hoped that this wouldn't backfire on them after all they only had a single chance.

So here they are back at the present, just in time for Zatanna to back away from the summoning circle as it glowed ominously green the same kind of shade that the pits emitted, suspense and nervousness flooded the room as blinding light came out of the circle temporarily making them look away, when the light finally diminished they faced the king.

There stood a very familiar face, standing between the summoning circle, even with the uncanny inverted colors his appearance was alike.

"Danny?!" Flash jumped, making everyone turn to him.

''Hi" Danny waved casually, in his full royal attire that somewhat looked like a very fancy jester's outfit with the hat getting replaced by a crown that floated ominously a few inches above from his head, a cape that seemed to be a piece torn and sewed carefully from space itself tiny meteoroids that moved inside of it, and a ring that stole everyone's attention with how much power it radiated.

"You know Danny?" Superman asked surprised.

"He's my tailor" Flash replied

"You are?" Green Lantern looked at Danny

"I am" Danny confirmed, with a nod

"How do you know him?" Flash questioned Superman back.

"He's my wife's intern, a little strange but he does his job well" Superman exclaimed

"I'm like right here."

"You're his wife's intern??" Robin said accusingly with a tone annoyance laced in his tone

"I am" Phantom replied smugly like working for Lois Lane was the best thing that ever happened to him, which was absolutely correct.

"Don't you work at Batburger?"

"Yep, but I quit, tried retailing instead"

"How about The Aquarium?"

"There too"

"Even the Zoo"

"Uh huh, I did that."

"And I'll assume that you're also the High King Phantom?" Batman interjected, making everyone fall silent and immediately realize once again who was the person standing in front of them,

This kid in front of them was the King of the infinity realms, the most powerful being that ever existed, the one that struck even the Gods with fear so unbearable to carry.

"Damn, did the crown, ring and inverted colors give it out?" Danny grinned cheekily, and for the first time they ever interacted with him, his aloof and unbothered behavior vanished, what replaced it was something more frightening "Shall we begin?" he asked.

Constantine now understood why Secret and Deadman vanished, with the way his presence screamed capability, authority, and power.

This was Phantom, not Danny. And being away from Phantom was mercy itself.

[no-one-hears-me]

I don't understand how people get excited to start college

[unladielike]

    "Wow, one of my guesses was actually right? Jocks are truly something else..." Vivian exclaims, allowing pleasant surprise to seep through her voice. Honestly, she wonders just how strenuous practice was for Mizumachi to have enough room in his stomach for ten burgers, but regardless, it doesn't take long for a pensive hum to subsequently slip past her throat.

    "As for me... probably 4 or 5? When it comes to McJunior burgers at McDonalds, though, I could eat 7... provided, of course, there aren't any fries to go alongside them! But the food truck I'm taking you has such filling teriyaki cheese burgers, chances are high you'll be full from eating 4 or 5," Vivian then proceeds to point out before letting out a little laugh.

    "And yeah, I guess I kinda take after my mom in the sense I like ensuring my friends are fed! I also prefer being the one to pay, since... I dunno, it manages to make me feel manlier somehow, as if I'm one of the boys. I mean, usually, girls are never expected to pay for stuff whenever guys spend time with them, right? Hence why I get such a sense of empowerment from using what little money I have on my friends..."

    Then again, to most, her logic may sound incredibly silly; after all, it was now the twentieth century, meaning to genderize the concept of footing the bill itself could come across as extremely outdated. Even so, Vivian always subconsciously had the impression it would feel less like a date or would make her seem that much more 'manlier' if she was the one paying, to the point where she could count on one hand how many times she had recently allowed anyone else to treat her... which, for better or worse, remains a bad habit of hers to this very day. Still, with how much she hated being perceived as a normie, she'd rather her wallet become lighter than be forced to confront the reality she was truly a girl at heart.

    Either way, they'll soon reach Wakwak Burger, causing Vivian to come to an eventual halt ahead of him. "Ta-daaaah! What do you think?" she finally turns to flash a grin at Mizumachi just as the last customer strayed off from the front of the food truck.

[水]

She’d be correct in assessing him as a ‘himbo,’ considering that he didn’t always think before he did anything… and even if he did think, it sometimes wasn’t the most logically sound. It was like most of his IQ points went into sports and athleticism. He had this idea that she could pay for his burgers and he’d pay for hers, but realized the errors of his thought process when she spoke.

“Ah! Uh… I meant to say I’ll treat next time!”

Nice save, Mizumachi. Totally believable and sound reasoning. That’ll work, right? She can pay this time around and he can pay for the next time! That way he can return the favor because she also made some breakfast for him that other time. Hm?

“Let’s go! Say, do you like feeding people?”

He keeps pace with her as she walks them to the promised burger land- or rather, truck. If he had a nickle for each time she’d fed him, he’d have two nickles. It wasn’t a lot, but it was interesting how it happened twice already in the time they’ve known each other.

Selling Japanese burgers already would have him sold. Wakwak burger was going to have a new regular customer who was craving a reminiscent taste of home, no doubt. With how hungry he was feeling, somewhere close was definitely for the better, he’ll get to eat sooner!

“Ah… I could eat 5, yeah. Some days I could eat 10. Depends on how hungry I am. I eat a lot after practice.”

Which was to say that he didn’t gorge himself on food before practice, because it would only slow him down if he pigged out on food. It was better for him to make up for the calories lost during practice by eating his fill on food afterwards.

“How about you? 1? 2?”

Seemed like a safe conservative guess for how many burgers she could eat in a single sitting. It seemed pretty fun trying to guess how much she could eat.

[kdh-tally]

Huntr/x and The Saja Boys being Jealous

Prompt : How Huntr/x and the Saja Boys would react to their partner being flirted with. @erisanix

Author’s Note : I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this 😭 Hope you enjoy!!! So it was only after writing this (and preparing to publish this) that I realised you probably meant partner as in the reader... I'm so sorry- and will rewrite this if you want

Abby when someone flirts with Mira

The two of them are working out.

Neither of them need it but Abby insists that they work to keep their muscles in shape (insert unnecessary flexing here)

Some dude decides to work out next to them and when abby leaves to grab them water, the person takes their chance to talk with Mira. 

His first reaction is to laugh. 

Like, genuinely finds it funny.

How did anyone have the audacity to flirt with Mira???

“You’re trying to flirt with her?”

“Oh… you’re serious.”

He’d walk over, arm casually slipping over her shoulder as she glares at the person trying to make a move on her

He wouldn’t say a thing first and would just stand there smiling.

Normally, most people would use their brains and back off once they see that:

1. Mira isn’t interested

2. This huge guy with muscles in standing by her like a body guard and could very much easily beat them up

However, lets say the person keeps going

While Abby knows fully well that Mira can handle herself, he likes playing knight-in shining armour.

“She’s taken” he’d smirk condescendingly at the person (who is now shaking in their boots) 

He doesn’t get jealous so much, but will get competitive.

It also gives him an extra EXTRA confidence boost knowing that he (and romance ig 😒) is actually Mira’s boyfriend.

“You think she’d want you? Try again in your next life.”

(He wouldn’t say this in front of Mira of course cause she would obliterate him)

Once they’re gone, he’s gentle and playful again.

“I feel bad for them”

“Why?”

“Don’t you remember how long it took me and romance to convince you to go out with us?”

“Yea-”

“And you liked us” he pointed out in disbelief “That poor person bro. They stood no chance” he’d shake his head dramatically watching the flirter walk away defeatedly.

Romance when someone flirts with Mira

They were both in the practice room. Mira testing out new lyrics with him and Romance just watching her.

A new staff member, who wasn’t briefed on any of the relationships between the groups, attempts to make a move on Mira.

Romance is smiling the whole time.

He doesn’t take the person seriously.

“Oh, you like her? Cuteeeeee. Same.”

Would hug Mira from behind mid-conversation (knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to attack him for the PDA in front of the innocent (and flirty) bystander), his chin resting on her shoulder as he more or less stares at her in awe.

“Isn’t she just perfect?” he’d say, looking smugly into the flirter’s eyes.

He, like Abby, is so confident in his position as Mira’s boyfriend that he has no need to be jealous.

And to be honest even if he did feel jealous, he used to be a powerful demon. Hiding a dead body wouldn’t be that difficult for him.

He wouldn’t mind outflirting the flirter to their face.

He would also let Mira do most of the rejecting.

He lowkey finds it attractive when she goes all “Sorry but I’m already in a relationship”

His head is filled with hearts and flowers and all he can think of is  ‘she loooooooves me~~’

But, If Mira gets visibly annoyed or uncomfy (and that would take a lot to happen), his smile turns sharp.

“You can leave now,” he’d say, eyes narrowed as he more or less forces the person away with his sharp gaze.

His tone is so obviously threatening.

Later, he’d make Mira and Abby laugh about it.

“You know I’m prettier than them, right?” he’d tell the two while laying across their legs on the couch.

Mira would roll her eyes but she wouldn’t disagree.

Abby would give romance a proud high five (or whatever it is bro’s do…)

Definitely throws in some extra flirty lines that night, just to remind her of the whole encounter.

Mystery when someone flirts with Zoey

The only Saja boy that would get seriously jealous.

This could go two ways though. 

He could either get super protective over Zoey to the point where it’s lowkey animalistic…

I’m basically saying he might start barking at whoever is flirting with her 😭

Based off of his behaviour in the movie i’d feel like he’d try to freak the person out so they’d leave 💀

The more likely option would be for him to just freeze.

Doesn’t speak. Just stares.

You can feel how uncomfortable he is with the entire situation.

Lets say the two are hanging out after practice hours and they encounter a group of fans, one of them thinking they actually have a chance with Zoey.

I feel like Zoey would be completely oblivious to the fans' intentions cause she just wants to believe in the good of everyone. 

Remember how she said the Saja boys were magicians even though it was really obvious they were demons 💀

Mystery, after attending to his own fans, just stands behind Zoey and watches,

He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him but it obviously does.

He can’t stand still.

Crosses his arms. 

Shifts weight between his legs. 

Backs up a step only to come back up.

He won’t interrupt the conversation. Honestly he might just leave.

But Zoey usually finds him sulking in a corner later.

“You okay?”

“Why must you be so nice to people?” he be all frowny while flopping around on the floor”

“Thank you? she let out a small laugh before sitting by him and moving the hair out of his face.

“I don’t want you to be nice to everyone…” he’d be all flustered but still very upset. “Just me.” a small pause, “and huntr/x and the saja boys i guess…”

She ends up comforting him because his jealousy would manifest as confusion and anxiety.

Poor boy fears she’d still leave him because he used to be a demon.

Starts to lowkey improve his posture and fix his hair next time they're out. 

He thinks no one notices but zoey does.

Jinu when someone flirts with Rumi

The pouty jealous one.

Not in a sad and anxious way like Mystery, but more in a ‘stop giving them attention Rumi~’ way.

Doesn’t react at first. He’s quiet, watching and assessing how serious the situation is. 

If Rumi laughs at something the flirter says?

His jaw drops in disbelief. Like her audacity??

“Wow. Guess I’m just a background character now.” • Said this to no one but himself. He said it outloud.

Will walk up after the conversation ends like:

“So… did you have fun Rumi?”

“Who was that?”

“Do you like them more than me? Be honest. I can take it.” (He cannot.)

Rumi: “You’re literally the only person I want Jinu.”

Jinu, perking up instantly: “Okay :)”

Still clings to her for the rest of the day, just in case.

He could get super protective though.

They’d probably be out on one of their dates that apparently aren’t dates…

They’d stop for food at a restaurant and the guy taking the order is just so annoying and persistent about getting Rumi’s number.

At this his eyes sharpen, jaw clenches slightly. You’d only notice if you knew him.

He does not interrupt. He’d look to see how Rumi handles it.

If she looks uncomfortable?

He steps in immediately with that low, casual tone he has “You okay Rumi?”

He’s not even trying to be threatening. He’s kinda just making in known that he is the boyfriend.

Even Rumi is flustered with just how protective he’s being.

When they’re walking back to the company, his hand hasn’t left her waist at all.

“Some people just don’t seem to know when to stop talking” he’d mumbled under his breath.

Mira when someone flirts with Abby or Romance

If they flirt with Abby:

Someone’s trying to compliment his abs and muscles.

The person is being all sweet n touchy like

“Omg! You must work out really hard~~”

And he can see Mira seething in the background so he tries to make the interaction seem as friendly as possible. 

She's watching it all happen with the flattest expression known to mankind.

Abby's being polite. He’s all smiles like “ooh thankyou :D” 

Mira’s patience is running out FAST.

She's standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows twitching.

In her brain she’s absolutely berating the person. 

“Can’t they tell that he’s taken??’

However she’d also be in denial about her jealousy. 

“Like what do you mean jealousy? I was just worried that the person was wasting their time on you muscles brain” is what she would say if ever confronted about the situation.

She’d eventually calm down until Abby chuckles at one of their jokes.

Her head slowly turns and her eyes are comically wide.

She lowkey looks deranged…

“You think they’re funny?” • “No– I was just–” • “Mm.” 

She’d kick him out of her car and leave him stranded on the street.

Eventually walks up casually, a hand on Abby’s bicep.

“Sorry, this one’s taken. But nice try.” Smile = threat.

Later in private?

She’s berating him.

“You’re such an attention seeker”

“I didn’t do anything..” he’s flabergasted

If they flirt with Romance:

Mira doesn’t even pretend to be calm.

The issue here is Romance is the type to flirt back. Not cause he’s a man whore or anything but he just loves when Mira acts all possessive about him 💀

She’s standing behind Romance while the flirter is mid-sentence, her arms crossed, lips pursed.

She’s giving them the look she normally uses to scare off demons before killing them off.

Romance obviously finds it hilarious and adorable.

Mira does not.

She doesn’t speak, just raises one brow at the poor soul.

This person must be blind or something cause they just keep talking???

Oh yea- Where did they meet the flirter?

The two went shopping for books. Yes. Books.

Romance thinks the best way to learn about human culture would be by reading as many novels as he can get his hands on. 

This leads to the shop owner flirting with him as they try to recommend good books to read.

The flirter slides him a very steamy looking book and winks at him “This looks like something you’d enjoy if you know what I mean”

When the person keeps talking, Romance is smirking. • “You’re gonna die~” he whispers, all happy.

Mira steps up between them. • “If you value your ability to walk and want to keep your store, I suggest you shut up.”

Romance: 🥰

He won’t shut up about it later.

“I’ve never felt more loved.”

“You threatened violence for me.”

“Tell me again how you’d break their legs.”

He’s just a girl.

Actually he’d probably love saying “I’m just a girl” 💀

Zoey when someone flirts with Mystery

She’s oblivious at first.

Like I said up above, she’ll probably think the person is just being friendly.

“Oh my god, Mystery, they said you have pretty hair! Isn’t that sweet?” • Mystery is trying not to freak out

Eventually, she catches on.

She’ll see the flirter get all up in his space. They’d try to touch his hair, or interlink their arms, literally anything to have physical contact.

Mystery is physically recoiling.

“Wait a damn minute…”

Her whole vibe changes.

Remember how she “ended” mystery in the movie?

“You’re just my type 🤩 Oh well” stabs

Yea that switch up is how she’d treat the flirter.

Her voice is still sweet, but it’s weaponized sweetness.

“That’s my boyfriend.”

One sentence. That’s it.

The air gets colder. The fan who was flirting? Gone.

She then turns to Mystery like nothing happened.

“You okay?”

“You scared them away.”

“Good.” sips her drink

She becomes extra clingy later too. Not because she’s insecure.

She’d do it to reassure him that she wouldn’t be going anywhere regardless of how many people try to flirt with him.

Random compliments and forehead kisses.

“Your hair is pretty by the way.” she’d say this while tying it up into a bun to admire his face. “I’m the only one allowed to touch it though”

“Of course Zoey,” his voice is practically a whisper as she clings onto him.

Rumi with someone flirts with Jinu

They went to the movies together. A new lego movie came out and the last one Jinu saw was years ago so he begged Rumi to take him to see the new one.

She goes to collect popcorn, leaving Jinu to take his seat, and when she returns, someone is in HER chair. Flirting with HER boyfriend.

She’d try really hard not to react.

She wants to be chill. Really, she does.

But the moment someone says “Hey, what’s your name?” and reaches out to his arm?

She’s considering summoning her weapon and wiping their head off clean.

My girl is staring daggers.

Probably the most over protective in the group (could rival Mira)

After all, the guy died for her. Why would anyone even think they could try to flirt with him???

Stares daggers.

Jinu is too polite (and oblivious. The guy used to be a 400 year old demon. Anything he used to know about flirting is now irrelevant)

He smiles. Maybe even giggles just because of how nervous he is. • That is what breaks her.

She walks over calmly, “Sorry. That seat’s taken.”

If the flirter protests? “By who?

“By me. Go find another one.” Rumi’s losing her patience and the movie is about to start.

“I actually like it here,” they’d lean a tad bit closer to Jinu to spite Rumi.

Let’s not forget that Rumi is half demon though!! “That wasn’t a suggestion.” Her voice gets a bit more dangerous and unstable.

Once they’re alone again, she teases him about it.

“Did you like the attention?”

“Nooo– Rumi, no, I was scared. ☹️”

“You were giggling.”

“IT WAS A PANIC GIGGLE!!”

The next time they go out, she’s in his hoodie. Hair down (out of the braid 😋). Holding his hand. The message is clear: • Don’t even look in his direction.

[sei-rq]

about that latest oneshot you wrote... how do you think rin will react when he found out that his best friend and his big bro is now a thing? will he actually start crashing out or will he just go "wow you're stupid for falling for my brother"

pt.1

best friend, itoshi rin has noticed some changes in your behaviour as of late, normally he'd just assume it's because of a new show/series/character that you're choosing to obsess over.

but no, this is different, you've been distant, more secretive, less talkative, always looking at your phone, grabbing it the second it beeps with a notification, smiling at your phone more often, and rin— rin is not okay, at all.

because as much as he would never admit it out loud, he misses you, this is so sappy because you're right here, next to him, but at the same time you're not.

he misses your constant chatter about what you did for the day, the constant 'ding' in his pocket coming from his phone due to your daily messages, he misses the occasional late night calls when he's too pent up from soccer to fall asleep, or when you're too stressed about an exam that's due the next day, listening to your whining about how you're sure you'll not make it this time around.

but you always do, because rin is here.

he wouldn't let you slip away, not when he's around.

so, why was he feeling off about all this, you've been closer to him ever since you first came to his house, you come over more often now, the routine goes like this:

dinner, rin dragging you to watch movies, some video games, random talking until he ends up falling asleep and you're gone by the time he wakes up in the morning.

something is off.

and then he starts to have his suspicions, sae has been acting strange, far stranger than you. it's weird because ever since his brother came back from spain, they haven't spoken much.

but everything feels different.

he notices instantly.

ever since sae started to put more effort in his looks, his clothes, he's wearing his hair down more often, he's always in a good mood not that his face says anything different, it's just— he looks happy.

and rin? he'd be glad, because sae has been treating him like he used to, slowly but surely they're going back to their old ways, starting with those popsicles they used to get when they were kids.

this time, rin's luck doesn't play by his side.

you lose.

he looks down at the stick in his hand and then towards his brother, who takes the finished popsicle out his mouth to see the text engraved on the stick.

...

you win.

rin expects sae to scoff at the stupid thing and say how something so insignificant can't judge his luck like he used to do.

but no.

it's there, so, so, so fucking faint, but it's there— a smile on his lips.

"i'm going to put this away, be right back." the older itoshi says as he gets off the couch, leaving rin with his thoughts.

just what has gotten into the people around him?

his question answers itself, when he hears a 'ding' next to him, he grabs it thinking it's his phone, probably something from you, he doesn't have notifications on for people other than his family and you.

it's not his phone.

but he can't be bothered to care because—

you [11:47pm]:

hey, come over today? i got your favourite chocolate and i have practice in a few days so i'll probably be busier, i need my fill of someone stupid til then.

cariño [12:29 pm]:

hii

i think i can!!

i'll ask rinnie if he can hangout tonight then >:D

also bribing me with chocolate isn't fair <\\3

you [12:36 pm]:

i simply made a request with no ulterior motives.

spoiling my partner is seen as a crime these days?? how bad has society gotten.

cariño [12:40 pm]:

suree, keep telling yourself that..!

see you tonight, I love you <33

...

he shuts the phone off as soon as he hears sae's footsteps coming back to the room.

and before he knows it, he's back in his room, the door locked and his ears hot and ringing. he grabs a pillow off his bed, tossing it to the picture he has of him and sae on his desk, which is childish but rin's vision is blurry and his eyes feel hot.

it's not fair, not fair, not fucking fair.

his chest hurts, physically hurts. it feels awful and he feels nauseous and his head is ringing loudly.

why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why?—

he knows, it's you. not that the stupid nickname sae has saved you as gives it away, that's far from it. it's not even the profile picture, you under soft white sheets where only the upper part of your face is apparent, eyes closed as though it's the safest place on earth, with not a care about anything else but your slumber. and the worst part is, he recognises the background, the bed, the sheets.

and it's not even the familiar texting style. it's the pet name that you've insisted on calling him since you've been friends. rinnie, the name he hates so much but doesn't comment on because he likes hearing you say his name. he recognises you instantly.

why the fuck does itoshi sae get everything? does he not have enough of his own things? why is he stealing away the one thing rin had kept to himself, the one thing rin had allowed himself to be selfish over. it's not fucking fair— why his best friend?

he was planning on taking it slow, he thought he had finally found someone that understood him, someone that he could trust with ease and he doesn't do feelings, but he was willing to try, so why?

why now? when he has realised his own feelings? when he was planning on asking you out? right after he finished with blue lock and the u20 match, when he was waiting for the perfect day to finally have you? to make you his?

and if it isn't already enough, his phone buzzes on his desk.

and the universe mocks his existence.

stupid owl [12:40 pm]:

rinnieee.

can I come overrr :000

stupid owl [12:47 pm]:

rinrin?

rinniepoo

loml, star of my eyes rinrin !!

we can even watch that new thriller that came out recently !?

stupid owl [12: 55 pm]:

rin? you good? you're not even 'seen' zoning me like you normally do, woah! :((

...

okay, if itoshi sae wants to play like that, so fucking be it. rin isn't a kid anymore, he can be mature about this— and by mature he means..

you [1:00 pm]:

sure.

why don't you stay the night?

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 22

˗ˏˋ karaoke night ˎˊ˗

"Vanilla extract has always been his lifeline, and tonight is no different."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 11k

content: friendly drunkness, karaoke, lowkey interest, girl talk, unwanted appearances, trauma responses, isolation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, vulnerability, sneak peeks, soft, lowkey real conversations, subtle references to the past.

✧ author's note ✧

OKAY. Let me just start by screaming into the void real quick: SIX. HUNDRED. NOTES. And TWO HUNDRED VOTES. IN LESS THAN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS?? What the actual hell is wrong with you people??? I'm genuinely flabbergasted. Bamboozled. Reeling. I thought I had time. I thought I could chill. But NO. Y’all are CRACKED and now I’m upping the goal like an absolute psychopath because clearly you’re fiends and I am merely your supplier. I’ll give you your fix, don’t worry. Just know I’m running out of backlogged chapters and my therapist is gonna hear about it.

Anyway.

This chapter. Hoo boy. This chapter feels like the emotional hangover after a wild night—the kind where everything feels a little too raw, a little too exposed, and you’re left trying to piece together what the fuck happened between the yelling and the tequila. There's a reason why I framed it this way, too—because this is the shift. The oh shit, real people have real pasts and they bleed sometimes moment. The façade cracks here, and it does so in ways that are deliberately uncomfortable.

Jungkook is so many things in this chapter, but most importantly, he’s small. And I don’t mean that physically. I mean small like a kid trying to crawl into his own skin. That rooftop scene? I wanted you to feel the stillness after the storm, the weird quiet that happens when someone you thought was bulletproof shows up vulnerable and unguarded for once. And it’s messy. He doesn’t have answers. He doesn’t give you the sob story, not yet. He gives you glimpses. Vanilla extract, deflections, silence. All of it is by design.

(Also yes, the vanilla extract thing is a metaphor. Yes, I know it’s weird. No, I won’t elaborate. Just know it’s real and kind of tragic and also weirdly endearing. Like him.)

And Y/N… god. She’s tiptoeing the line so hard here. Because she wants to help and she wants to understand and she also very much wants to not feel. But she does. And she hates it. And she jokes because otherwise she’ll unravel. And that’s what makes this chapter so bittersweet to me—because they’re both posturing like they’re fine, but their actions betray them. Their quiet kindness, the subtle care. The intimacy isn’t in the sex anymore. It’s in the stillness. In the scent memory. In the way he says “you smell like vanilla” like it’s the only anchor he has left.

And let’s not even talk about Mia because that woman is the human embodiment of a champagne cork to the eye. I will simply say this: trauma is not always loud. Sometimes it’s a whisper that sticks to your ribs. Sometimes it’s someone’s name.

Anyway.

This chapter is long, chaotic, unfiltered, and possibly one of the most emotionally raw things I’ve written for this fic so far. So please take care of yourself while reading. You don’t have to romanticize brokenness. You don’t have to love these characters for their damage. But you can hold space for them. Just like they’re learning to do for each other.

Also Taehyung deserves a nap and a raise for his emotional labor.

As always, I’m deeply grateful you’re here, crying and laughing and spiraling with me. Keep being feral in the comments. Keep voting if it makes your little goblin brain happy. And maybe—just maybe—hug your own Jungkook if you’ve got one.

Or your therapist.

They deserve it.

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

Tequila makes you do stupid shit, like hugging people you normally avoid touching with a ten-foot pole.

You practically launch yourself from your seat, the room tilting at an alarming angle as you throw your arms around Yeji's neck. 

"Holy shit," she laughs, body stiffening with surprise before awkwardly patting your back. "Okay, this is literally the first hug you've ever given me and I don't know how to feel about it." 

You ignore her, already detaching yourself and stumbling toward Irya, who catches you with more grace, giggling as you nearly topple both of you over.

"Hi to you too," she says, squeezing back gently.

Jimin is next, accepting your clumsy attempt at physical affection with the patient tolerance of someone used to dealing with drunk friends. He pats your back, concern etched in his features.

"How are you doing?" he asks, holding you at arm's length to study your face.

You flash him a thumbs up, swaying slightly on your feet. "Absofuckinglutely amazing."

"Okay, yeah. No." He shakes his head, exchanging a knowing look with Yeji.

"Why are you guys even here?!" The question bursts out louder than you intended, making several heads turn.

Yeji shrugs, all casual nonchalance. "This is a famous ramen place. Irya's been wanting to come for a long time."

"Guilty!" Irya raises her hand with a sheepish smile.

"And Jimin was like a lost puppy, so we just kind of adopted him," Yeji adds, nodding toward him.

Irya shoves Yeji's shoulder. "No, actually, I was studying with Jimin, and Yeji just came in and was like 'yo, let's have spicy ramen!' And we kinda rolled with it."

You snort, turning around to find the entire table watching this interaction with varying degrees of amusement. 

Jungkook has his hand pressed against his mouth, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

You mouth 'die' at him, and he throws his palms up in mock surrender, the bastard.

"Well..." You gesture vaguely, suddenly realizing you need to perform introductions. "These are my friends." 

The words feel strange on your tongue—not because they're untrue, but because saying them out loud makes them real in a way you weren't prepared for. 

"Yeji, Irya, and Jimin," you continue, pointing at each one. "And this is... um..."

Your alcohol-soaked brain struggles to remember the names of all the people around this table. There's Yoongi, obviously, and Taehyung, and Hobi, and... the others. The gaming nerds. And Tessa. And that other girl who judged your ramen choice.

You wave your hand in a circle, encompassing the whole table. "Jungkook's birthday squad."

Awkwardness settles over you as you realize the predicament. Your friends are here, but it's not like you can just abandon Jungkook's party to join them. That would be rude. And weird. And probably not what a good roommate would do. 

Not that you care about being a good roommate. But still. Principle of the thing or whatever. 

Before the silence can stretch too long, Yeji speaks up. "We were heading to the karaoke place that's like five minutes from here, if y'all want to come?"

All eyes shift to Jungkook, the birthday boy, the decision-maker. 

But instead of looking at his friends, he looks at you first.

You look back at him, a silent question passing between you.

Then he smiles—not his usual smirk, but something softer, more genuine—and turns to Yeji. 

“Sure, absolutely. Count us in."

“Hell yes!” Hobi exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I’ve been waiting for an excuse to show off my pipes!”

“God help us all,” Taehyung mutters, but he’s already standing, clearly on board with the plan.

“What about the bill?” Diana asks, glancing around at the mess of empty glasses and half-finished food.

“Already covered,” Yoongi says, holding up his phone to show a payment confirmation. “Birthday gift.”

“You paid for all of this?” You blink at him, genuinely surprised. “That’s… actually really nice, Yoongi.”

He shrugs, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the acknowledgment. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

“It kind of is,” you insist, the alcohol making you more earnest than usual. “You’re a good friend.”

He gives you a look that clearly says ‘please stop talking now,’ so you do, but not before patting his shoulder in what you hope is a comradely fashion.

The group begins gathering their things, a chaotic shuffle of jackets and phones and forgotten scarves. You stand in the middle of it all, suddenly aware of how drunk you actually are as the room tilts alarmingly when you try to take a step.

“Whoa there,” a voice says near your ear, and then there’s a hand at your elbow, steadying you. 

Jungkook. 

“You good?”

“Fine,” you say automatically, then reconsider. “Okay, maybe not fine. But I’m upright, so that’s something.”

“A low bar, but I respect it.” His tone is light, teasing, but there’s something else there too—concern, maybe. It’s hard to tell through the tequila fog.

“I can walk,” you insist, taking a deliberate step forward to prove your point. 

Your legs cooperate, mostly, though the floor seems to be at a slight angle that wasn’t there before.

“Never said you couldn’t.” He’s still close, though, ready to catch you if you stumble. “Just making sure you don’t face-plant in front of everyone. Would hate for you to embarrass yourself.”

“Too late for that,” you mutter, remembering your enthusiastic greeting to your friends.

A laugh escapes him, quiet enough that only you can hear it. “Nah, you’re fine. You’re just… friendlier when you’re drunk. It’s kind of cute.”

“I am not cute,” you say with as much dignity as you can muster while swaying slightly. “I am intimidating and cool.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees solemnly. “The most intimidating and cool person in the room. Everyone’s terrified.”

You glare at him, but it’s hard to maintain when he’s looking at you like that—amused but not mocking, a softness around his eyes that makes your stomach do a weird flip that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Shut up,” you say, lacking a more clever comeback. “It’s your fault anyway. Your stupid friends kept giving me shots.”

“My stupid friends, huh?” He raises an eyebrow. “And what does that make me?”

“The king of the stupid friends,” you declare, poking him in the chest. “The stupidest of them all.”

He catches your finger before you can poke him again, his hand warm around yours. 

“Your Majesty, then.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—” You break off, distracted by the way he’s still holding your hand, casual as anything. 

You pull away, flustered for no good reason. 

“Let’s go. Karaoke awaits.”

“After you, Phoenix.” He gestures toward the door where your friends are gathering with the others.

You make your way over, focusing intently on putting one foot in front of the other without tripping. It’s harder than it should be, but you manage, only weaving slightly.

Yeji appears at your side, linking her arm through yours. 

“How much have you had to drink?” she asks, voice low.

“A moderate amount,” you hedge. “An appropriate amount. A birthday celebration amount.”

“So, too much.”

“Maybe.”

She sighs, tightening her grip on your arm. “Babes, I’ve never seen you drunk. You sure you’re okay?

“Yuuusss,” you decide, nodding solemnly. “I stand by my choices.”

“Of course you do.” She glances over at Jungkook, who’s now engaged in an animated conversation with Taehyung and Hobi. “So, what’s going on there?”

“Where?” you ask, playing dumb even though you know exactly what she means.

“With your roommate. The one whose birthday party we just crashed.”

“Nothing’s going on,” you insist, too quickly. “We’re just… I don’t know. Trying to be friends. Or something. I guess.”

Friends. You and Jungkook. 

Friends.

It’s starting to sound less terrifying.

“I see.” She grins, positioning her head on your shoulder. “Just don’t replace me, huh? I’m your new college bestie. I claim that title.”

Before you can respond, Irya bounces over, linking her arm through Yeji’s free one. 

“Are we ready? The karaoke place gets busy on Saturdays.”

“We’re ready,” you confirm, smiling stupidly at the blonde. “Lead the way.”

As your strange, merged group spills out onto the sidewalk, you can’t help but wonder how the hell you ended up here—drunk, surrounded by people who barely know each other, heading to a karaoke bar on a Saturday night.

It’s bizarre. Surreal. Absolutely not how you expected your evening to go when you agreed to take Jungkook to the MoMA this morning.

But as you watch him laugh at something Irya says, his face open and relaxed in a way you rarely see at home, you can’t quite bring yourself to regret it. 

Even if your head is spinning and your stomach is dangerously close to rejecting every questionable decision you’ve made tonight.

You catch his eye across the group, and he grins at you—that stupid, lopsided grin that always makes you want to either slap him or—

Well. Other things.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too, unable to help yourself. And when he falls into step beside you as the group starts moving, close enough that your shoulders occasionally brush, you don’t move away.

It’s his birthday, after all. You can give him that much.

Somehow, the sidewalk is significantly more difficult to navigate than it was four hours ago.

"Careful," Jimin murmurs as you stumble over absolutely nothing for the third time in two blocks. He steadies you with a gentle grip, adjusting to link his arm more securely with yours.

"The ground is uneven," you insist, though it's clearly not. "Poorly maintained city infrastructure. Someone should write a strongly worded letter."

"Definitely the sidewalk's fault," he agrees, humor warming his soft voice.

You've ended up at the back of your odd parade, watching as your two separate friend groups merge into a loud, laughing mass of bodies moving through the Manhattan night. Yeji has somehow ended up walking beside Taehyung, both of them gesturing wildly as they argue about something. Irya is chatting with Tessa—a combination you wouldn't have predicted—while Hobi tells an animated story to Ryan and Seth that has them howling with laughter.

And then there's Jungkook, right in the middle of it all, moving between conversations simply like someone accustomed to being the center of attention. Even from behind, you can tell he's having a good time—shoulders relaxed, head thrown back in laughter at something Hobi says.

You can’t help but think it’s… a bit strange, seeing him like this. In the apartment, he's always a bit wound up—ready with a sarcastic comment or provocation. But here, surrounded by friends, celebrating, he seems... looser. 

Happier.

It's a good look on him. 

Not that you care.

"Here we are!" Hobi announces as your group reaches a neon-lit storefront, the sign advertising ‘SING YOUR HEART OUT’ in aggressively colorful lettering. "Best karaoke in the East Village."

The place is crowded—not surprising for a Saturday night—but Hobi apparently knows someone who works here because you're whisked past the line of waiting people and into the lobby with minimal fuss.

Inside, it reeks of cheap beer and cheaper air freshener, and the walls are plastered with faded posters of pop stars past and present; along with some occasional muffled screech of someone butchering a high note from one of the private rooms.

Everyone begins shedding layers at the coat check, a flurry of jackets and scarves being handed over to a bored-looking attendant who barely glances up from her phone. 

You hang back with Jimin, suddenly aware of how sweaty your shirt is under your own jacket. 

Great. 

Nothing like marinating in your own alcohol-infused sweat to round out the evening.

"I kind of can't believe we're doing this," you mutter to Jimin, still leaning on him more heavily than you'd like to admit. "Karaoke? With these people? Is this real life?"

"It's definitely happening," he confirms, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Though I'm not sure how much you'll remember tomorrow."

"I'm not that drunk," you protest automatically. "I'm just... celebrating."

"Uh-huh." He doesn't sound convinced.

Across the lobby, Yeji and Jungkook are locked in what appears to be an intense negotiation over room selection, both of them pointing at different options on the laminated menu the hostess is holding. Taehyung stands nearby, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's developing a migraine.

"I'm telling you, the premium room has better song selection," Yeji insists, her voice carrying across the space.

"But the deluxe has the light-up dance floor," Jungkook counters, gesturing emphatically. "It's my birthday, I want the dance floor!"

"The dance floor is tacky!"

"It's not tacky, it's fun!"

"It's the definition of tacky."

"Your face is the definition of tacky."

"Wow, super mature comeback there, birthday boy."

Your eyes drift from their bickering to the quieter presence leaning against the far wall. Yoongi stands slightly apart from the group, scrolling through his phone with the detached air of someone who's physically present but mentally elsewhere. 

You notice Jimin's gaze has followed yours. He's studying Yoongi with an intensity that feels almost... private. Like you're witnessing something you shouldn't.

"That's your other roommate, right?" he asks, voice soft.

"Yeah," you nod, head still resting on his shoulder. "Yoongi."

Jimin just smiles, a small, soft thing that doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's something there—a question, maybe, or a thought he's not voicing—but before you can figure it out, Yeji's sharp voice cuts through the moment.

"Y/N! Get over here and settle this!"

You straighten, blinking rapidly as the room spins slightly with the sudden movement. 

“What?"

"Premium or deluxe?" she demands, beckoning you impatiently. "Tell this idiot that premium is clearly superior."

Jungkook turns to you, actually pouting like a kid who's been told he can't have a second ice cream cone. 

"The deluxe has a light-up floor," he says, as if this is the most compelling argument in the world. "And disco balls."

You look between them, trying to focus through the tequila fog. It shouldn't be this hard to form an opinion about karaoke rooms, and yet. 

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up at the absurdity of the situation—Yeji and Jungkook, two of the most stubborn people you know, locked in a standoff over something so utterly trivial.

"Come on, Yeji," you say, rolling your eyes even as you fight back another laugh. "He's the birthday boy. Let him make a choice that matters in his life for once."

Jungkook's indignant "yooo!" is drowned out by Yeji's dramatic sigh.

"Fine," she concedes, throwing up her hands. "But when we get stuck with a shitty song selection, don't come crying to me."

"I'll make it up to you," Jungkook promises, already bouncing with excitement. "You can choose the first song."

"Damn right I will." She huffs, no anger behind it.

Jungkook turns to you, triumph written all over his stupid handsome face. "See? I can be reasona—" He cuts himself off with a yelp as you swat at him playfully.

"Don't push it," you warn, but you're smiling despite yourself.

The hostess, who's been watching this entire exchange with the weary resignation of someone who's seen far too many drunk people argue over karaoke rooms, clears her throat pointedly. 

“So... deluxe room? For how many hours?"

"Two," Hobi calls from where he's now organizing a drink order with the rest of the group. "At least!"

"Follow me," she says, gathering menus and leading the way down a dimly lit hallway plastered with even more music posters.

Your odd group trails after her like ducklings, Jungkook practically skipping in excitement. You hang back slightly, still unsteady on your feet, and find yourself walking beside Yoongi, who's finally pocketed his phone.

"You sure about this?" he asks quietly, eyeing you with what might be concern. "You look like you're about ten minutes from passing out."

"I'm fine," you insist, though the hallway is doing that weird tunnel-vision thing that definitely isn't normal. "Just pacing myself."

He snorts, clearly not buying it. "Sure."

"I am," you argue, even as you reach out to steady yourself against the wall. "Totally in control."

"Right." His tone is dry as dust. "That's why you're currently leaning on a poster of Justin Bieber."

You glance over and, sure enough, your hand is planted firmly on young Bieber's face. 

You snatch it away with a grimace. 

"Ew."

"Exactly." He doesn't say anything else, but he stays close as you make your way down the hall, oddly comforting in its steadiness.

Just like the day at the gynecologist.

The deluxe room, when you finally reach it, lives up to Jungkook's hype—it's large enough to fit your entire group comfortably, with plush seating along the walls, a central space that is indeed illuminated by color-changing floor panels, and not one but two disco balls hanging from the ceiling. The most impressive feature, though, is the giant screen taking up one entire wall, currently displaying the karaoke company's logo bouncing around like an old DVD screensaver.

"This is amazing," Jungkook declares, immediately bouncing onto the dance floor, which lights up green and blue under his feet. "Worth every penny."

"We haven't paid yet," Taehyung reminds him, but he's smiling as he says it.

"Details," Jungkook waves dismissively, spinning in a circle that makes the floor shift colors again. "Come on, everyone pick a song! I want to hear Hobi destroy 'Uptown Funk' again!"

"Bold of you to assume I'd repeat myself," Hobi says, already flipping through the song catalog. "I'm thinking Beyoncé tonight."

"God help us all," Taehyung mutters, but he's already grabbing a microphone.

You sink onto one of the couches, grateful for the chance to sit before your legs give out. 

The room is spinning slightly, but in a pleasant way now—like you're on a very slow merry-go-round. From this vantage point, you can watch as everyone settles in, claiming seats and drinks and song choices with the chaotic energy of people determined to have a good time.

Jungkook is still in the center of it all, now trying to convince Yeji to duet with him on some song you can't quite make out over the general noise. She's protesting, but you can tell she'll give in eventually—there's a gleam in her eye that says she's enjoying this more than she's letting on.

The first note of "Don't Stop Believin'" hasn't even finished before Hobi's on his feet, microphone clutched in his hand like it's the Olympic torch and he's the last runner.

What follows can only be described as a religious experience.

The man doesn't just sing—he performs. 

Every note, every gesture, every hip thrust (and there are many) executed with the determination of someone who's spent significant time studying the art of karaoke domination.

By the time he hits the chorus, the entire room is on their feet, singing along whether they want to or not. 

You find yourself belting out words you didn't even know you remembered, arm slung around Yeji's shoulders as you sway dramatically.

And that's just the beginning.

Taehyung and Jungkook follow with some K-pop song you've never heard but somehow everyone else seems to know the choreography to. Irya delivers a surprisingly powerful Adele ballad that has Yeji staring at her with undisguised adoration. Seth and Ryan butcher ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with the confidence of men who have never been told they can't sing.

Somewhere between your third vodka cranberry and Yeji's unexpectedly heartfelt rendition of ‘Dancing Queen,’ you lose all remaining inhibitions.

Which is how you end up center stage, microphone in hand, challenging Taehyung to an Eminem rap battle that neither of you are remotely qualified for.

"I've got this," you hiss, yanking the mic toward you as the opening beats of ‘Lose Yourself’ start playing. "I've been preparing my whole life. Get ready to get your ass beaten, jerkinci.”

"You've been preparing to embarrass yourself," Taehyung retorts, tugging the microphone back. "I actually know all the words."

"Bullshit. Nobody knows all the words."

The first verse hits and you're both fumbling, words slurring together as you try to keep pace with the rapid-fire lyrics. 

You've got maybe every third word right, but what you lack in accuracy you make up for in enthusiasm, half-shouting into the microphone while Taehyung tries to pry it from your grasp.

"His palms are sweaty—"

"—mom's spaghetti—"

"—nervous, but on the surface he looks—"

"—SPAGHETTI!"

You dissolve into laughter at the same time Taehyung does, both of you bent double as the backing track continues without you. 

"Draw," Jungkook declares from somewhere to your left. "You both lose. Spectacularly."

"I clearly won," you argue, straightening up with as much dignity as you can muster, which isn't much. "I hit at least four words correctly."

"Wow, four whole words," Taehyung deadpans. "Eminem is shaking."

"He should be," you agree solemnly. "I'm coming for his whole career."

The music shifts to something slower, and you realize you're suddenly very, very thirsty. And maybe a little dizzy. 

You hand the microphone to Jimin, who's been quietly watching the disaster unfold with a bemused smile.

"Your turn," you tell him, patting his arm. "Show them how it's done."

He starts to protest, but Irya's already pulling him toward the screen, insisting they do a duet. 

You make your way back to the couches, flopping down with more force than intended. The room tilts briefly before righting itself.

"Need a break?" Jungkook asks, appearing beside you with a glass of water. 

When did he get water? More importantly, when did he get so considerate?

"Maybe," you admit, accepting the glass. "Thanks."

He studies your face for a moment, and you resist the urge to check if you've got something on it. 

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom. Don't pass out while I'm gone."

"No promises."

He laughs, the sound warm even over the pulsing music, and then he's gone, weaving through your friends toward the exit.

You take a long sip of water, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat, raw from shouting lyrics and laughing too hard. 

Your eyes dance around, noticing Hobi teaching Ryan some dance move on the light-up floor, Yeji and Irya huddled together on one of the couches, heads bent close as they flip through the song catalog, Taehyung now trying to convince Yoongi to join him for something that has Yoongi shaking his head emphatically.

It's... nice. In a chaotic, messy, not-at-all-what-you-planned kind of way.

The couch dips as someone sits beside you. You turn, expecting Yeji or Jimin, and find yourself face to face with Tessa instead.

"Hi!" she says brightly, tucking a strand of perfect auburn hair behind her ear. "Mind if I join you for a minute?"

"Free country," you shrug, shifting slightly to make room even though there's plenty of space.

She smiles, and you can't help noticing how ridiculously pretty she is even in the garish lighting of the karaoke room. No smudged mascara, no frizzy hair, no signs of being several drinks in like the rest of you heathens. 

It's annoying. 

Pretty people should have the decency to look at least a little disheveled when everyone else does.

“That was quite a performance,” she says, smiling warmly. “I didn’t know you were into rap.”

“I’m not, really,” you admit, taking another sip of water. “I just couldn’t let Taehyung think he’s better than me at something.”

She laughs, the sound light and genuinely amused. “You guys have known each other long?”

“Not really. Just through Jungkook, honestly.”

“Oh!” Her face brightens at the mention of his name. “That’s actually… I was hoping to talk to you about him, if you don’t mind?”

The way her voice lifts hopefully at the end, combined with the slight flush on her cheeks that has nothing to do with alcohol, tells you exactly where this conversation is headed. 

Great. 

Girl talk about your hookup buddy. Exactly what you signed up for tonight.

But there’s something so genuinely nice about her expression that you can’t bring yourself to brush her off. 

It’s not her fault Jungkook’s… well, Jungkook.

“What about him?” you ask, though you already know.

“I just… I really like him? And I was wondering if you had any insights, you know, being his roommate and all.”

You should have seen this coming. 

Of course the pretty film student would be into Jungkook. Of course she’d want insider information.

Wait.

How the actual fuck does Jungkook pull these types of women? 

Like, seriously. This girl looks like she should be dating a 6’4” investment banker with good hair, not your annoying roommate who sometimes forgets to wash his coffee mug for so long it develops its own ecosystem.

The universe is truly unfair.

“I’ve only lived with him for about a month,” you say, because it’s true and also gives you time to process.

“I know, I know,” she says quickly. “But you must have some impression of him by now, right? Like, what’s he really like? Outside of class and everything?”

You take another long drink of water, considering. 

The truth is, you do know things about Jungkook that probably no one in this room knows—like how he bakes sourdough when he can’t sleep, or how he gets oddly protective of Griffin’s food schedule, or the precise sound he makes when he comes.

Which is actually a thought that gives you pause. 

If Tessa and Jungkook start dating, that means your arrangement would end. 

No more convenient stress relief. 

No more really good sex after bad days.

That would kind of suck, honestly. Because whatever else he is, Jungkook is fantastic in bed. The idea of giving that up isn’t particularly appealing.

But on the other hand… aren’t you kind of friends now? Or at least trying to be? 

And friends help each other out. 

Even if that means letting go of a mutually beneficial sex arrangement.

Besides, look at her. She’s gorgeous, clearly intelligent, and seems genuinely sweet. Jungkook would be a complete idiot to pass that up for occasional hookups with his sarcastic roommate.

She’s still looking at you expectantly, those wide hazel eyes so earnest it’s almost painful.

“He’s…” you start, then sigh. “Look, I don’t really know him that well outside of basic roommate stuff.”

“Oh.” Her face falls slightly.

Dammit. 

Why does she have to look like a disappointed puppy?

“But,” you continue, “I can tell you he’s very passionate about film. Like, genuinely passionate, not just doing it because it seems cool.”

Her expression brightens immediately. “I know, right? The way he talks about cinematography is so… I don’t know, refreshing? Like he actually cares about the art of it.”

“And he’s good with his hands,” you add before you can stop yourself, then immediately want to die. “I mean, like, fixing things! He fixed our bathroom sink when it was leaking.”

Nice save, idiot.

“That’s so sweet,” she says, apparently not picking up on your momentary panic. “He seems really thoughtful, you know? Like, in class he’s always offering to help people with their equipment.”

You nod, because that actually tracks with what you’ve seen of him. For all his annoying qualities, Jungkook does seem to genuinely care about helping people sometimes. It’s one of his more redeeming features.

“You really like him, huh?” you ask, though it’s obvious.

She blushes, looking down at her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” you admit, smiling despite yourself. “But it’s cute.”

And it is cute, actually. 

She seems genuinely into him, not just physically attracted or playing some kind of game. 

It’s surprising that a girl like her would be interested in your dumbass roommate, but weirder things have happened.

“Do you think I have a chance?” she asks, her voice dropping to a near whisper, as if she’s sharing a secret. “I mean, I’ve been trying to drop hints, but I can’t tell if he’s picking up on them or just being nice.”

You glance toward the door where Jungkook disappeared, considering. Because in all honesty, you have no idea what his type is beyond ‘willing and available.’ Your arrangement has never included discussions about who else either of you might be seeing or interested in. For all you know, he could be totally into Tessa.

And really, why wouldn’t he be? She’s gorgeous, smart from what you can tell, and seems genuinely kind. 

She’s basically way too good for him, but if she can’t see that, it’s not your job to point it out.

“I think…” you start slowly, turning back to her. “I think you should go for it.”

“Really?” Her whole face lights up, and you find yourself smiling back reflexively.

“Yeah, really.” 

You straighten up, suddenly feeling like you’re on more solid ground. This is just basic girl code, after all. Helping a fellow woman navigate the treacherous waters of modern dating, even if the guy in question is your occasional fuck buddy.

Plus, you can be the bigger person here. 

Yes, the sex with Jungkook is great, but there will be other guys. Other hot idiots to hook up with. It’s not like he’s the only option in New York City.

“Look, Jungkook’s… an okay guy, I guess? But if you like him, you should definitely let him know. Life’s too short for subtle hints.”

“That’s what Irya said too!” She laughs, reaching out to squeeze your arm gratefully. “Oh my god, thank you. I was so nervous to ask you, because I didn’t know if you two were… you know.”

“Me and Jungkook?” You almost choke on your water. “God, no. Absolutely not. We’re just roommates. Barely even friends, honestly.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Yes, you’ve been sleeping together, but it’s just physical. There are no feelings involved. It’s just convenient, uncomplicated sex—exactly how you like it.

“Oh, good,” she says, relief clear in her voice. “I wasn’t sure, and I’d never want to step on any toes.”

“No toes here,” you assure her, wiggling your feet for emphasis. “Completely toe-free zone.”

She giggles, and you find yourself smiling back. She really is nice, which makes it hard to keep disliking her just for being pretty and put-together.

“So,” you continue, feeling oddly invested now. “What’s your plan? How are you going to let him know you’re interested?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, biting her lip. “I was thinking maybe I could ask him to coffee? To discuss a project or something? But that might be too subtle.”

“Definitely too subtle. Guys are dense as bricks. Trust me.”

“What would you suggest then?”

You tap your chin, thinking. “You should just ask him out directly. No pretense, no ‘let’s discuss this project.’ Just ‘hey, I like you, let’s go on a date.’”

“Oh god,” she groans, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough for that.”

“Sure you are,” you encourage, surprising yourself with your sudden enthusiasm for this matchmaking endeavor. “Look at you! You’re gorgeous, smart, and frankly, way out of his league. If anything, he should be intimidated by you.”

She peeks through her fingers, looking both flattered and skeptical. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely. In fact…” You pull out your phone, opening your contacts. “Give me your number. I’ll help you figure out the perfect approach.”

“Seriously?” She beams, reciting her number as you type it in. “That would be amazing. I’m so glad we got to talk tonight.”

“Me too,” you say, and find that you actually mean it. “And hey, even if things with Jungkook don’t work out, we should hang out sometime. You seem cool.”

“I’d love that!” She looks genuinely delighted, which makes you feel a small pang of guilt for your initial judgment of her based solely on her perfect hair and flawless makeup.

As you finish entering her contact info, you glance around and realize Jungkook still hasn’t returned from the bathroom. 

It’s been what, ten minutes? Fifteen? Way too long, even accounting for lines or hand-washing (which, knowing him, is probably not a factor anyway).

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” you tell Tessa, pocketing your phone. “I just want to check that your future boyfriend hasn’t fallen in or something.”

She chuckles at the term but nods, still smiling. “Sure. I’ll save your seat.”

You navigate through the chaos of the room, dodging Hobi’s enthusiastic dance moves and stepping over Taehyung, who’s now sprawled dramatically across the floor reciting what sounds like Shakespeare to a bemused Yeji. The hallway outside is quieter, though the bass from neighboring rooms thrums through the walls.

Where the hell did Jungkook go? The bathrooms are just down the hall, and there’s no way he’d ditch his own birthday celebration. 

Maybe he’s answering a call? Or got waylaid by some random person?

Or maybe the idiot got lost on the way back. You wouldn’t put it past him.

With a sigh, you head toward the bathrooms, determined to drag his ass back to the party. 

After all, you’ve got a stunning redhead waiting to shoot her shot with him, and you’ll be damned if your sacrifice of great casual sex goes to waste because he can’t find his way back from taking a piss.

You turn the corner, ready to pound on the men's room door and yell at Jungkook for taking forever, when—oh.

He's not alone.

There's a girl. Of course there's a girl. Because when isn't there a girl around Jungkook?

This one's got shiny black hair down to her waist and is wearing what looks like an actual fucking Chanel dress to a karaoke bar. 

Who does that? 

The kind of person who also wears Louboutins to a place where the floor is permanently sticky with spilled beer, apparently.

But it's not her rich bitch outfit that makes you stop.

It's Jungkook.

He looks... wrong. 

He's staring at the floor like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen, shoulders hunched forward in a way that makes him seem smaller somehow. His usual swagger is completely gone. He keeps opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air, not actually saying anything.

It's weird. 

Really fucking weird.

Before you can think better of it, you're walking toward them. 

Stupid protective instinct. Stupid tequila. Stupid feet moving without permission.

Jungkook notices you first, his eyes widening in what looks like panic. The girl turns around, giving you a slow once-over that makes you feel like you've been scanned and found wanting. 

She's beautiful. Like, unfairly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that probably makes other girls hate her on sight. Perfect skin, dark eyes, delicate features that look more doll-like than human. Her smile is almost too perfect, like it was professionally installed rather than something that grew naturally on her face.

"Oh my gosh, hi!" Her voice is high and sweet, like artificial honey. "I'm so sorry, am I keeping him too long? You must be looking for Kooky."

Kooky? Is she fucking serious right now?

"Can you believe we ran into each other? What are the chances?" She grabs your arm like you're old friends, squeezing with perfectly manicured nails that dig in slightly. "I was just telling him it must be fate. Some connections are just meant to be, right?"

She's acting like you're all at some cute reunion instead of standing in a gross hallway outside a karaoke bathroom. Her perfume is expensive and overwhelming—the kind that probably has a French name and costs more than your rent.

Jungkook clears his throat, still not looking at her. "It's just a coincidence, Mia."

Mia. 

The name hits like a slap. 

This is her? The ex that sent those texts that made him look like he'd seen a ghost? 

Bitch looks like she belongs on a billboard, not stalking her ex in a karaoke bar.

"Oh, you're so skeptical," she laughs, the sound like tiny bells. "Always was. That's what I loved about you though, always keeping me grounded." She turns to you with a conspiratorial smile. "He's the practical one. I'm the dreamer. We balanced each other so well."

She's talking about him like he's not standing right there. 

Like he's a character in a story she's telling.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name? I'm Mia."

"Y/N," you say flatly. "Jungkook's roommate."

"Roommate! Oh how wonderful," she claps her hands together like you've just announced you've won the lottery. "It's so nice to see Kooky making new friends. He was always so reserved with people he doesn't know well." 

She leans in close enough that you can smell her breath—minty with an undercurrent of expensive champagne. 

“Trust issues. We worked on it a lot during our time together."

She says it like they were in some kind of therapy program, not… dating. 

What the actual fuck?

"I've found him pretty straightforward," you say, stepping closer to Jungkook because something is clearly wrong here. 

He's still staring at the floor, still silent, still looking nothing like the annoying, confident asshole you live with.

"Oh, then he must really trust you," Mia says, eyes wide like you've shared some profound revelation. "That's so special. After everything he went through with his father, it's hard for him to let people in."

His father? Since when does Jungkook talk about his family? He's never mentioned a word about his father to you.

Jungkook's head snaps up at this, face gone pale. "Mia, don't—"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She covers her mouth with one hand, looking embarrassed. "Was that not something...? I just assumed since you're roommates..." She turns to you and shrugs apologetically. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it. Please forget I said anything."

Right. 

Like you're going to forget she just dropped that little bomb. 

But now's not the time to dig into whatever daddy issues Jungkook's apparently hiding.

"It's fine," you say, because what else can you say?

"Anyway," she continues, her voice shifting back to that syrupy sweetness, "I was just telling Kooky we should get together sometime. Catch up properly." 

She squeezes Jungkook's arm. 

“I've missed our little movie nights. Nobody appreciates Park Chan-wook like you do."

Jungkook's still doing his best statue impression, eyes fixed somewhere near the exit sign like he's calculating how fast he can make a break for it.

"We were just getting ready to leave, actually," she says, gesturing down the hall. "I'm here with some friends from Parsons—we have a private room upstairs. You two should join us! We have so much champagne, it's ridiculous. My father just closed another deal in Singapore, so we're celebrating."

Of course her dad makes international business deals. Of course she has a private room upstairs. Of course she's casually drinking champagne while the rest of you slurp tequila from plastic cups.

"I don't think—" Jungkook starts, voice sounding rusty like he's forgotten how to use it.

"It would be so fun!" Mia insists, looking at you now with wide, earnest eyes. "Honestly, any friend of Kooky's is a friend of mine. I've been dying to get to know the people in his life now."

She's laying it on thick, like she's auditioning for the role of Supportive Ex-Girlfriend in some bad rom-com. It's almost impressive how sincere she sounds while being so obviously full of shit.

"We're actually here with a group," you say, firmer this time. "It's Jungkook's birthday."

"Your birthday!" she gasps, turning to Jungkook with exaggerated surprise. "Oh, I can't believe I forgot! I used to be so good with dates."

She steps closer to him, practically pressing against his chest. 

"I should have gotten you something. Although I think my presence is gift enough, don't you? Just like old times." She laughs, light and tinkling. "Remember that birthday I planned for you last year? The surprise party at The Standard? Everyone said it was the best night of their lives."

You can practically see her subtext in neon letters above her head: ‘Whatever you losers planned tonight is nothing compared to what I did for him.’

"I don't think he wants to reminisce," you say, surprised by the edge in your own voice. "We should get back."

The bitch’s smile falters for just a second before snapping back into place. 

“Oh, I totally get it. You guys have plans. I would never want to intrude on your... celebration."

The way she says ‘celebration’ makes it sound like she's referring to a kindergarten birthday party with paper hats and apple juice.

"We should get your number though, Kooky," she continues, already pulling out her phone. "I changed mine recently. We really should catch up soon. I have so much to tell you."

Jungkook looks like he'd rather eat glass than take her number. His hands are actually shaking slightly—what the hell happened between these two?

"I don't think that's necessary," you say, and without really thinking about it, you link your arm through his. 

His skin is cold through his shirt sleeve.

This is the first time his skin’s ever been cold.

He’s usually always a walking furnace—a warm backdrop to your perpetually freezing body. 

“Why not? Can’t hurt.” She tilts her head, eyes crinkling in a tight smile.

“Might hurt.”

Mia's eyes flash to where you're touching him, her smile tightening just a fraction. 

"Oh, I see," she says, her voice still sweet but with something sharper underneath. "You two are..."

"Friends," you finish firmly. "Good friends."

"How sweet," she says. 

She reaches out and straightens Jungkook's collar in a way that feels weirdly intimate. 

“You always did need someone to look after you, didn't you, baby?"

She sighs, the sound somehow both theatrical and condescending. You feel Jungkook tense next to you. 

What the hell is she talking about?

"Save my number," she says, pressing a small business card—who even carries those anymore?—into his hand. "For when you realize what you're missing. You know where to find me when you want a real connection again."

She leans in and kisses his cheek, holding it a beat too long. 

“Happy birthday, Kooky. Try not to have too much fun without me."

She gives you a final look, equal parts pity and dismissal, before sauntering away down the hall, her heels clicking a perfect rhythm against the floor.

Jesus Christ. Is this real life? Did you just witness an actual soap opera villain in action? 

The whole thing feels surreal, like you accidentally walked onto a TV set during filming.

"You okay?" you ask Jungkook when she's gone, because what else can you say?

He's still staring after her, jaw tight. 

"Fine."

"Bullshit."

He glances at you, momentarily surprised by your bluntness. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

"I... I think I need some air."

"Yeah, of course." 

Not that you really have any other response ready. What are you supposed to say? ‘Sorry your ex is a walking red flag’? ‘Want to talk about whatever the fuck just happened?’ ‘By the way, what was that father line?’

"I'll be back in five," he says, already moving toward the exit sign at the end of the hall. "I just need a minute."

"Okay."

He pauses, glancing back. 

“Thanks."

Then he's gone, pushing through the exit door, leaving you standing in the hallway with the lingering scent of expensive perfume and a head full of questions.

What the hell was all that about? And why does he look like he's seen a ghost? And what did she mean about his father? 

You shake your head, trying to clear it. 

Not your business. Not your problem. You have your own shit to deal with without adding Jungkook's ex drama to the list.

But as you turn to head back to the karaoke room, you can't help glancing toward the exit where he disappeared. 

He really did look... small. Scared, almost. 

Nothing like the cocky asshole who drives you crazy on a daily basis.

It's disconcerting, seeing him like that. Like peeking behind a curtain you didn't know existed.

You're going to need another drink for this.

It's pathetic, really. 

Jungkook knows it. He acknowledges it fully, standing here on the rooftop of some overpriced karaoke joint in the heart of Manhattan, staring down at the tiny flask in his hand. 

Not whiskey, not vodka—no, nothing even remotely respectable. Just pure vanilla extract.

Fucking vanilla extract.

He twists off the cap, lifts it to his lips, and takes a small sip. It burns just enough going down to remind him he's alive, but it tastes good. 

Always good. 

Sweet enough to mask the bitterness that's permanently lodged at the back of his throat these days. 

It's not the watered-down shit they sell at grocery stores either—he learned that lesson quickly after one particularly desperate night ended with him gagging over his sink. 

No, this is the real deal, the expensive kind he has to order online from some bougie shop in France that probably laughs every time they ship another bottle to New York City.

His therapist side-eyed him when he first confessed this little habit—because who wouldn't? Who the fuck drinks baking ingredients to cope? 

But after a few awkward seconds of silence and scribbling notes on her pad (he hates when she does that), she'd shrugged and said it was better than alcohol or pills or whatever else he could be doing instead. 

So Jungkook took what he could get.

If vanilla extract keeps him from self-destructing completely, then that's what he'll stick to.

He leans against the rooftop railing, cold metal pressing into his forearms through his thin shirt. Below him, lights blur together into a neon haze—yellow taxis weaving through traffic like fireflies darting between trees. The city beneath him looks both indifferent and alive, while Jungkook feels like he's barely holding it together.

Happy fucking birthday to him.

Birthdays are supposed to mean something. Another year older, wiser, closer to figuring shit out—but Jungkook just feels stuck. 

Twenty-something years old and still sneaking away from his own birthday party because seeing Mia had knocked the air out of his lungs in a way that made him feel like a fucking teenager again.

Weak. 

Pathetic. 

Unable to even form a coherent sentence when she'd looked at him with those eyes—the ones that used to make him feel special until he realized they were just another weapon in her arsenal.

He takes another sip of vanilla extract, savoring the burn this time as it slides down his throat. It's stupidly comforting in a way he can't quite explain—not even to himself. 

Maybe it's nostalgia or some childhood memory he's buried deep down beneath layers of emotional baggage and trauma from Mia and everything else he's fucked up along the way. 

Or maybe it's just because it's something sweet and simple in a life that's become anything but.

He chuckles bitterly under his breath, shaking his head at himself.

"You're fucking ridiculous," he mutters into the night air.

But ridiculous or not—pathetic or not—it helps. 

And right now, that's all that matters.

Twenty minutes. That's how long he's been up here, hiding like a child. Twenty minutes of staring at the skyline and trying to get his shit together. Twenty minutes of letting Mia's voice echo in his head like a bad song he can't turn off.

He closes his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply as cool September air fills his lungs. 

He can hear muffled laughter drifting up from downstairs—the karaoke room packed with film school friends who've probably noticed his absence by now—and for once tonight, Jungkook doesn't mind being forgotten for a little while longer.

He'll go back eventually; plaster on another easy smile like nothing happened because that's what he does best these days: pretend everything is fine until everyone else believes it.

And then—the icing on the cake. 

He mentally claps for himself at that one. Solid joke. A little on the nose, sure, but he'll take it. 

You're there.

He doesn't even need to look to know it's you. That faint trace of vanilla that isn't his flask. Not the sharp, concentrated kind that burns his throat and keeps him grounded. 

No, you smell like vanilla, but softer. Warmer. Like someone took the edge off and folded it into something human. 

There's something else underneath it too—milky, maybe? Creamy? He doesn't know how to describe it without sounding like a complete idiot, so he doesn't try.

It's funny, though. 

Hilarious, actually. 

Because in the four weeks he's known you, he knows you're anything but soft. 

You're mouthy as hell. 

Reckless in a way that makes him think you've got some kind of death wish or maybe just a really bad sense of self-preservation. 

You talk back every time he opens his mouth, like it's your personal mission to make sure he never gets the last word. 

He should find you annoying. 

Irritating enough to make him want to jump off this rooftop just to get away from you. 

And yeah, sometimes he does—like when you leave your tea bags in the sink instead of throwing them out like a normal person, or when you steal his hoodies and pretend they just ‘ended up’ in your laundry by accident (as if he doesn't know you're lying). 

But mostly? 

Mostly, you're just...there. 

A sudden disruption in his life when he was finally starting to feel okay again. Starting to enjoy the quiet. Heal, or whatever the fuck people call it when they're trying to piece themselves back together after everything's gone to shit.

And then you came along.

All talk back and adrenaline and thrill and sex.

Really good sex.

He shouldn't be thinking about that right now—not here, not with you standing behind him like some kind of ghost haunting his already-fucked-up night—but it's hard not to when everything about you feels like a challenge he can't help but rise to. 

The way you smell, the way you look at him like you're daring him to say something stupid just so you can tear him apart for it...it's infuriating. 

Addictive too.

He takes another sip from his flask because what else is he supposed to do? 

He can feel your eyes on him—sharp and curious, probably trying to figure out why he's up here alone with nothing but a tiny bottle of vanilla extract for company—and suddenly the burn in his throat isn't enough to distract him anymore.

"Didn't know karaoke had a rooftop package," you say eventually.

Jungkook snorts before he can stop himself, shaking his head as he screws the cap back onto his flask. 

"Yeah, well," he says, turning around just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. "Figured I'd splurge for my birthday."

Your eyebrows lift at that—just a little—but you don't say anything right away. 

"You know they've noticed you're not around, right?" you say after a moment, your tone careful. "People are asking."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Of course they are. Because that's what happens when you disappear for twenty minutes in the middle of your own birthday party.

"You good?" you add, and there's something in your voice that makes him look at you directly. "Because we need you back there."

God, you're annoying. Always so direct, always cutting through his bullshit like it's tissue paper.

He should hate this—hate you—but somehow, Jungkook can't really bring himself to fully mean it.

"How'd you find me?" he asks instead of answering your question.

You shrug. "Just a hunch. Figured if I wanted to escape, I'd go up, not down."

He stares at the city below, the skyline stretching out like a postcard someone forgot to mail. The cars are specks from up here, tiny dots crawling along the veins of Manhattan. It's almost peaceful if he squints hard enough to ignore the noise humming faintly in the background—the kind that never really stops, even at this height.

For a moment, it's quiet. Just him, the skyline, and the faint burn of vanilla still lingering on his tongue.

Then he hears it: your footsteps. Soft, slow, like you're trying not to startle him but also don't care enough to stop yourself from intruding. 

Of course you're here.

You stop just short of the railing at first, hovering like you're testing the waters. 

Then, after what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds, you step closer and lean against it. Right next to him. Close enough that he can catch another whiff of that vanilla-milky-whatever-the-fuck scent that's been messing with his head all night.

He doesn't look at you. Doesn't have to. He knows exactly what you're doing—trying to see whatever it is he's staring at like it's some big mystery that needs solving.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth despite himself because yeah, this is so you. 

Meddling without actually meddling. Curious without outright saying it.

And he doesn't know how he knows that about you, but he does.

So when you finally break the silence with a casual, "What was that?"—your chin jutting toward his jacket pocket—he's not surprised. 

"Huh?" He plays dumb, glancing down at his pocket like he has no idea what you're talking about. "Nothing."

Your eyes narrow slightly, and he can feel your gaze boring into him even though he still refuses to meet it. 

“Nothing," you repeat flatly, like you don't believe him for a second. "Right."

"Yup." He pops the 'p' for emphasis and turns his attention back to the city below, hoping you'll drop it.

You don't.

"What kind of nothing are we talking about here?" Your tone is light, teasing—but there's an edge of curiosity there too. The kind that tells him you're not going to let this go anytime soon.

"It's just...nothing," he says again, more firmly this time but still avoiding your gaze.

"Uh-huh." You lean in slightly, tilting your head as if that'll give you a better angle on whatever he's hiding. "So nothing just happens to fit perfectly in your jacket pocket?"

He sighs, shaking his head slightly as a low chuckle escapes him despite himself. 

“You're relentless, you know that?"

"Yep," you say easily, popping the 'p' right back at him. "So? What is it?"

He hesitates for a moment, debating whether or not to tell you the truth. 

It's stupid—embarrassing even—but something about the way you're looking at him makes it hard to keep deflecting.

Finally, with a resigned sigh and a slight smirk tugging at his lips, he pulls the flask out of his pocket and holds it up for you to see.

"It's vanilla extract," he says simply.

You blink at him, clearly not expecting that answer. 

“Vanilla extract," you repeat slowly, like you're waiting for him to say he's joking.

"Yup." 

He unscrews the cap and takes another small sip just to prove his point before screwing it back on and slipping it into his pocket again.

For once, you're speechless—and Jungkook can't help but feel a small sense of victory as he leans back against the railing with a smug grin on his face.

"Happy now?"

The silence stretches a beat too long after his admission. He licks vanilla residue off his bottom lip, the sweetness turning cloying under your stare.

"It's pathetic, I know."  

"I mean—it's weird," you say, shrugging. "But not pathetic-weird. Just… niche."  

He huffs, drumming his fingers against the railing. "Yeah, who the fuck drinks vanilla extract, huh? Couldn't stick to whiskey like a normal fuckup. Had to be quirky.”

The word drips with self-mockery.  

You lean back, arms crossed. "We all have our vices. At least you don't smell like an ashtray."  

"You'd kick my ass if I smoked in the apartment."  

"Damn right."  

The corner of his mouth twitches. Below, a siren wails—distant, unimportant. He watches you watch the city, the neon glow catching on your eyes.

"It's… comforting. Don't know why. Ethanol or whatever—therapist says it's placebo with benefits."  

"Placebo with benefits," you repeat, deadpan. "That your band name?"  

He snorts. "Nah. Ethanol Enthusiasts."  

"Catchy."  

Another pause. 

The wind tugs at his sleeves, carrying your scent again. 

Fuck.  

"What started it?" you ask, casual as someone asking about the weather.  

His thumb rubs the flask's engraving—a nervous tic he didn't know he had. 

“Didn't wanna become my old man. Found this… seemed safer." The admission tastes bitter. He backtracks with a shrug. "Therapist greenlit it. Win-win."  

You hum, noncommittal. 

“Explains why you're obsessed with vanilla lattes."  

"Am not—"  

"You are. You side-eye my tea like it's piss."  

"Because it is piss. Chamomile's for grandmas."  

"Says the guy sipping baking supplies."  

He barks a laugh, sharp and surprised. When he turns, you're smirking—that infuriating, I-win smirk that usually makes him want to rile you up. 

Now it just feels… warm.  

"You smell like vanilla," he says softly.  

Your smirk falters. "You've mentioned. Usually when you're—"  

"Not then." He cuts you off, voice lower. "All the time. Even when you're not… y'know."  

"Y'know?" You raise a brow.  

"Fuckin'—wearing shit. Perfume. Whatever." He gestures vaguely at you. "It's just… you."  

The words hang, raw and clumsy. 

You blink, that sharp mask slipping for a half-second. He watches your throat move as you swallow.  

"Huh," you say finally.  

"Huh," he mimics, too quick. Deflect. Always deflect. "Maybe you're part cookie. Secretly."  

You freeze. Just for a heartbeat. 

Then you smirk, but it doesn't reach your eyes. 

“Maybe I'm marinating."

"Maybe," he murmurs. 

Another siren. Another beep. Another car being way too loud in this fucking city.

"Or maybe you were made just for me."

It slips out. Too raw. Too honest.

Shit.  

Jungkook's throat tightens—what the fuck was that? 

He licks his lips, grip tightening on the railing as he scrambles to claw the moment back from the edge of whatever that just was.  

"I mean—" He forces a scoff, rolling his eyes like he's mocking himself. "—or you're just some undercover therapist plant. Be honest." 

He side-eyes you, smirk plastered on. 

“You know Dr. Liao, don't you? This is an intervention. 'Let's gaslight Jungkook into emotional vulnerability via mediocre sex and vanilla-scented body wash—'"  

You snort, cutting him off. "Mediocre?"  

"Painfully average."  

"Excuse you?" You open your mouth exaggeratedly, and he can't help but grin at the sheer offense in your expression. "Okay wow, we are never having sex again."

"Cap."

"Are you seriously using online slang in real life?"

"Yeah, because you're capping."

"I am not capping and stop doing that, it's so cringe."

"But you just said capping too?"

"I—that's because you said it first you moron!"

"And you said it second so who's the real moron here?"

"That's it, I'm never wearing vanilla perfume ever again."

He stops abruptly at that. Looks you in the eyes.

"Like you are right now?"

You open your mouth. Close it real fast. Press your lips together. 

"Maybe."

"No maybes. I can literally smell it from here."

He tilts his head slowly, letting you move back if that's what you want. 

But you don't.

And he takes that as an invitation, his nose hovering over the soft spot under your ear, where you always apply your cologne on.

"Right here." He mutters, voice velvety and rough. "Really makes me wanna fuck you."

You don't move your head, but your hands come to rest on his chest, and he likes that. 

Likes that, despite whatever semblance of control you're trying to channel, you're slipping out of balance. 

Like you need to hold on to something—on to him. 

"I could fuck you here, you know." He continues, pressing his lips against your skin as he angles your bodies just right—your back against the railing, both his arms caging you in. "Right against the railing. Give the locals a nice view."

"You're insane." You say, but it lacks conviction. He knows it does. "Nobody down there could see us from below, this is a skyscraper and we're on the rooftop."

He clicks his tongue, but can't quite hide his amusement. 

"Always ruining the fun. Is this your way of saying no?"

You lick your lips. Feel the goosebumps erupt as his lips trail down your neck.

"No."

"Hmm?" He plants another kiss. "So is it your way of saying yes?"

"No." 

You repeat; and this time he actually leans back a bit, trying to figure out what you're aiming for. 

"It's a ‘maybe when we get home’. We are not fucking in public, Ro, during your birthday, when all your friends are gonna be wondering where we both are."

His eyes don't stray away from yours. Then, he chuckles. 

He doesn't know why he chuckles. Doesn't understand what about your commentary he found funny. Perhaps it's your way of being sensitive even when he's goofing around but totally ready to fuck you for real if you so much as ask. 

But it feels familiar. 

Safe.  

No feelings, no depth—just the usual bullshit.

He likes it. Likes how your smirk looks softer now, under the moonlight, eyes crinkling at the corners, and fuck, he needs another sip of vanilla.  

But the flask stays buried in his pocket.  

And then you say, "c'mon, Rogue. Your fanclub's singing off-key Mariah Carey downstairs."  

And he can't help but reply with a "fuck, really?"  

"Taehyung's hitting whistle tones. It's apocalyptic."  

He groans, pushing off the railing. "Fine. But you're explaining why I'm not drunk."  

"Tell them you're a pastry chef now."  

"Fuck you."  

"When we get home—"

The rooftop door slams open with enough force to make both of you jump apart like startled cats. 

Taehyung stands in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wild as they scan the space before landing on Jungkook.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathes, voice tight with something that sounds suspiciously like genuine panic. "You're up here? On a rooftop?"

Jungkook stiffens beside you, his casual posture vanishing in an instant. 

“Tae—"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" 

Taehyung cuts him off, storming across the rooftop with the intensity of a small hurricane. 

His eyes flick briefly to you, then back to Jungkook, who suddenly looks like he wants to melt into the concrete. 

"A rooftop? Really?"

You glance between them, completely lost.

 There's clearly something happening here that you're not privy to—some subtext that makes this more than just Taehyung being dramatic about Jungkook ditching his own party.

"It's fine," Jungkook says, his voice careful in a way you've never heard before. "I just needed some air."

"Air," Taehyung repeats, like the word tastes bitter. "Sure. Great. Because there's definitely not air anywhere else in this building." 

His hands are shaking, you notice. Actually trembling. 

"What the fuck, Kook."

"Tae," Jungkook steps forward, reaching for his friend's shoulder, "it's not like that. I swear. I'm okay."

Taehyung's eyes close briefly, his jaw working like he's grinding his teeth. When he opens them again, there's a vulnerability there that makes you feel like you're intruding on something intensely private.

"You can't just—" he starts, then stops, inhaling sharply. "You can't disappear and then be on a fucking rooftop, man. Not after—"

He cuts himself off again, shooting another glance your way.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook says quietly, and there's so much weight in those two words that your own chest tightens in response. "I didn't think about it like that. I just needed to get away for a minute, and this was the first place I found."

"Because you needed to get away," Taehyung says flatly, and there's a question buried in there somewhere.

Jungkook hesitates, his eyes darting to you for just a fraction of a second. 

"Mia's downstairs. Or was. We ran into her in the hallway."

The change in Taehyung is immediate and alarming. His face drains of color, then flushes with anger so quickly it's like watching a stoplight change.

"Mia's here?" His voice drops to something dangerous and low. "That fucking—where is she? Did she say something to you? What did she do?"

"Nothing. She's gone," Jungkook says quickly, reaching out to grip Taehyung's arm like he's physically restraining him. "She was with some friends in another room. Just bumped into her on the way to the bathroom."

"And said what, exactly?" Taehyung demands, not even trying to hide his hostility now.

"Nothing important," Jungkook insists, though his tight expression suggests otherwise. "Just Mia being Mia. It's fine."

"It's clearly not fine if you're hiding on a rooftop," Taehyung snaps, then immediately looks like he regrets it. His shoulders slump slightly. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—I was just worried."

"I know," Jungkook says, and there's something so gentle in his tone that you feel like you're witnessing a side of him you've never seen before. "It's okay. I'm okay. Promise."

You shift awkwardly, suddenly very aware that you're intruding on something deeply personal. 

“I should, uh, maybe head back downstairs," you offer, already taking a step toward the door.

Two pairs of eyes snap to you, like they'd forgotten you were there. 

Jungkook looks caught between relief and something else—regret, maybe?—while Taehyung's expression is blank now.

"No, stay," Jungkook says quickly. 

Too quickly. 

Then, more casually: "I mean, we were about to head back anyway, right?"

"Right," you agree, though it feels like you're reading from a script you haven't seen before. "Mariah Carey and all that."

"God, they're still on that." Taehyung rolls his eyes, making a visible effort to shake off whatever just happened. "Hobi's been trying to hit the high note in 'Emotions' for like twenty minutes. It's a massacre."

"Can't be worse than your Eminem," you say, hoping to lighten the mood.

It works, sort of. Taehyung's mouth quirks up at one corner. 

"Excuse you, I killed that performance."

"Yeah, killed it dead," you agree. "Like, murder. Homicide. Call the rap police."

Jungkook snorts, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Rap police?"

"You know what I mean," you say, waving a hand dismissively. "Let's go save Mariah from Hobi before someone calls actual law enforcement."

As you all move toward the door, you notice Taehyung hanging back just enough to place a hand on Jungkook's shoulder, squeezing once—firm, grounding.

Jungkook nods, a tiny movement you almost miss, and something passes between them again—silent but significant.

But it's not your story to know. Not yet, anyway.

So you lead the way back inside, pretending you didn't notice the way Taehyung's hand shook as it fell back to his side, or the way Jungkook's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he followed you through the door.

Some things are better left unasked. At least for now.

goal: 600 notes (this chapter was posted after both goals were reached. unfortunately the previous chapter suffered mass unvoting on wattpad after i published the next chapter. please go vote on chapter 21 in WP to restore the original numbers and not mislead any new reader 🫶🏻.)

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @jkrailme @rpwprpwprpwprw @mar-lo-pap @jeontae @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @minniejim @btstrology @vialattea00 @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx @mimi1097

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[alternate-real-ities]

Research Report: Subject J - Asian Flu

Prepared by: Dr. Amara Patel & Dr. Liam Chen

These diary entries, obtained through confidential sources, detail the personal experiences and transformations of a young man identified only as "Jake" who has been unknowingly infected with the recently emerged Asian Flu (AF). His accounts provide invaluable firsthand insights into the virus's effects on its host, spanning from early symptoms to advanced stages. Thus, with these entries, we aim to better understand the virus's effects and timeline.

Diary Entries:

Dear diary,

I woke up feeling a bit off today, but nothing major. Probably just another case of the common cold going around. I didn't let it stop me from starting my day as usual - working on my laptop at home while sipping coffee. My muscles were kinda sore too, but I thought it was just from my workout yesterday.

I did notice something strange though - when I caught my reflection in the mirror, my pecs looked a bit bigger than usual. Probably just my imagination, right? They're not exactly massive to begin with on my scrawny frame. But hey, maybe I'm finally making some progress at the gym!

Anyway, enough about me and my silly feelings. I'm going to bed early tonight. hopefully I'll feel more like myself tomorrow.

Dear diary,

Woke up today feeling even better than yesterday! I breezed through my work and couldn't wait to get back to the gym. When I stepped into the locker room, a few guys checked me out appreciatively. Normally that would make me blush, but now it just gave me this weird rush of confidence.

At first, I thought the gym machines felt a bit too easy today. Like my body was used to working at higher intensities than I realized. And why were my pecs tingling so much? Probably just a funny nerve thing, no biggie.

When I got home, I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror and… holy shit… are my muscles bigger? Like, way bigger than they should be after one intense workout. Also, I didn't look as pale as I usually do?

This can't be real - something's going on, I just don't know what it is… Hopefully, I'll have more time to think about it tomorrow.

Dear diary,

Okay, so something is seriously wrong with me but I can't put my finger on it.

I can't stop sweating, even when I'm just sitting around doing nothing! My clothes are always soaked and I stink like a damn animal in heat... And don't even get me started on my fucking pecs - they're so sensitive right now. Like every brush of fabric against them sends a jolt straight to my dick.

I called in sick to work today, couldn't handle trying to make sense of all those spreadsheets and emails. It's like everyone's talking in a foreign language now, I just don't get it no more. I keep telling myself this is all stress-related but deep down, I know something ain't right.

At the gym today, I kept having to increase the weights because anything less felt like a joke now. There were these two Asian guys there who kept glancing over at me admiringly between sets. Normally I'd be flattered but nervous about such obvious stares. Instead, I found myself flexing subtly in their direction, feeling this bizarre urge to show off my body.

And to top it all off, I've been having these crazy horny urges nonstop. Like, I'm constantly rock hard and leaking pre-cum like a fucking faucet. It's embarrassing as hell. I ended up jerking off about three times today already but it did nothing to satisfy this insatiable hunger in my balls.

I'm scared… I don't know what's happening to me. Maybe this is all just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon. Please.

Dear diary,

Fuck… what's happening to me? I'm struggling to type this entry because my fingers feel too thick and clumsy on the keyboard.

I went back to the gym again today because I couldn't stay away, even though part of me knew something was seriously off. The Asian guys from yesterday were there again and this time… fuck… I walked up to them and started chatting like it was the most natural thing in the world. Talking about protein shakes, the best ways to sculpt chest muscles, shit I wouldn't have given a second thought to before.

They kept touching my arms admiringly as we talked, marveling at how fast I must be growing. And I fucking liked it. Craved more of their attention and praise. We ended up in the locker room together…

I'm not proud of what happened next but I couldn't control myself. I was too drunk on this new sense of power and desire coursing through my body. The next thing I knew, we were all naked, touching each other, moaning like animals…

I can't think straight anymore either. It's like all the smart stuff is leaking outta my head and being replaced with nothing bro.

And the smells… everything smells so much stronger now. My own stink, sweat and musk, it's so intense!

I'm losing control here diary… I feel like I'm turning into one of those dumb gym bro stereotypes and it scares the everloving shit outta me. I almost can't recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

Tomorrow, I'll go see my doctor to finally understand what's going on.

Yo diary, it's your boy Jake and lemme tell ya, today was fuckin' EPIC dude! Like, the most awesomest day ever since this crazy shit started happening to me.

Woke up feelin' like a million bucks, muscles all twitchy and ready to dominate. I hit the gym real quick, just a lil warm-up ya know? And oh man, did I catch some looks! All those bros were starin' at my gains, probably wishin' they had a physique like mine hehe.

After that, I decided to take my rock hard bod for a walk in the park. Felt good to let the sunshine warm up my bronzed skin and show off these sick pecs. I was strutting real confident-like, just basking in all the attention from thirsty bitches and dudes.

Then, get this diary… I bumped into this super cute lil twink at the park! He was practically drooling when he saw my massive package tentin' in my shorts. I couldn't resist, had to show him what a real man feels like down there haha.

We found a lil spot behind some bushes and I bent that boy over and gave it to him HARD, diary. Pounded his tight boyclit so good he was screaming for more. Fucked him so deep he'll be tasting my cock for days! Blew the biggest load right up in his guts too, hah!

I'm gonna hit the gym again later for some more gains, maybe see if I can find another thirsty boycunt to bust in after. Life is fuckin' great diary!

Analysis:

Based on Jake's diary entries, we can confirm the progression of AF symptoms aligns with our current understanding: rapid muscle growth, cognitive decline, personality changes, and increased sexual aggression. His accounts also highlight the virus's insidious nature, as he remains largely unaware and unconcerned about his transformations.

To better understand the virus's transmission dynamics and long-term effects on secondary hosts, it is imperative that we identify and locate the twink (hereafter referred to as "Subject TW") with whom Jake engaged in sexual activities at the park. There is a high probability that Subject TW has been infected with the Asian Flu through this encounter.

Locating and monitoring this new potential subject could provide crucial insights into the virus's sexual transmission rates, incubation periods for secondary infections, and further manifestation of symptoms in diverse hosts.

This final surveillance footage from a concealed camera in a nearby gym captures Subject J (center frame) engaging with his newly acquired "bros". This clip represents the most current documentation of Jake's behaviours and physical state, obtained while maintaining strict contamination avoidance protocols. The timestamp indicates this recording is approximately three weeks after his initial diary entries.

Caution: Viewers are strongly advised not to approach or engage with Subject J or his associates without proper protective measures in place, as their sweat and other bodily fluids pose significant infection risks.

Please direct any inquiries or resources needed to pursue this lead to Dr. Patel or Dr. Chen.

[End Report]

[grandline-fics]

Can I just say I LOVE your writting? 'cause I do! And I'm so happy requests are open! 🥹 Here I am wondering if you can indulge little old me with a request. I went through your prompts and picked two! If you can combine them, I'd be delighted! If not, it's okay!

Here:

Jealousy fuelled kiss with the sentence:

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"

My request is a Fem reader and I would love to read Ace, Zoro and Law, if you don't mind! Throw in more if you'd like, I always love me some feral Kid, for instance... But whatever tickles your fancy! I just like some jealous boys! 🤭😋

Thank you again for sharing your gift! 🫶🏻❤️

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Jealousy fuelled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

WARNINGS: jealousy! but nothing else apart from that

CHARACTERS: Ace, Zoro, Law, Kid, Rob Lucci

WORDS: 3,531

A/N: Thank you for this request! I added Kid for you and also did one for Lucci because why not haha. I tried to make each scenario different and interesting and I hope you like what I came up with.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” You looked over in the mirror in front of you to see Ace appear in the doorway, arms folded and pout heavy on his lips. You let out a satisfied laugh and finished getting ready for a night out on the island the Moby Dick had just docked at. As you adjusted your outfit-the one Ace loved you in the most- you noticed how his hands twitched. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and do exactly what he’d just confessed and ordinarily you would have let him. However tonight was different and Ace only had himself to blame. Earlier in the evening just before you’d gone to get ready you made a comment about hoping Ace wouldn’t be as flirtatious with the locals this time. He in turn responded with an idle wave of his hand and a comment that. “It’s just harmless babe, you know you’re the only one I want.”

While you knew that was true, the fact that Ace hadn’t even taken a second to consider how you felt was what annoyed you. You weren’t even asking him to stop flirting with others since it sometimes worked in the crew’s favour, you just wanted him to tone it down a little. So after that comment you’d told Ace that from now until you both returned to the ship you were both to pretend you weren’t a couple and you could also flirt with the locals too. Ace had initially grinned and shrugged, happy to play along since it was only flirting and you’d be his again when you both returned to the ship at the end of the night. His grin dropped though when you reminded him that this meant he wasn’t allowed to kiss or touch you at all.

The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard when it was less than hour had passed in the bar and he could barely concentrate on those he was talking to. Try as he might to be laid back as normal he couldn’t help but have his gaze pulled towards you every time the smallest movement occurred in your direction. You’d drawn plenty attention when you’d arrived and he’d expected it. Ace had always counted himself the luckiest man alive you have been the one you chose and jealousy was a foreign feeling to him so to feel it now was unsettling. Over and over he’d reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything. 

Then he heard you laugh and watched when the person talking to you stepped just a little closer. At the same time, the glass in his hand exploded and he looked at his hand engulfed in fire and slight scorch marks on the table. Ace rose and handed money to the barman to cover the cost of the minor damages before stepping out into the cool air to clear his head. He got as far as the fountain in the town-square and sat down, closing his eyes. “Not as easy to be on the watcher’s side is it?”

Ace turned his head sharply to see you sitting down beside him. Immediately he wasted no time in leaning forward. With his fingers pinching your chin and free hand sliding into your hair he claimed your lips, pulling you dizzyingly into one of the most intense and fiery kisses he’d ever given you. Surprised, you managed to recover and return the kiss with equal fervour while letting your boyfriend dictate the pace until you felt you couldn’t breathe. Finally you reluctantly pulled back just enough to catch your breath while Ace pressed more kisses against your jaw and throat. “Lesson learned.” He rasped against your skin, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Jealousy sucks.”

“I dunno…” you laughed, securing your hands on his shoulder and chest. “Has its uses if I get more kisses like that.”

ZORO

Zoro normally has no problem voicing his own thoughts. Someone’s being a moron? He’ll tell them to shut up and get out of his way. Someone fought fiercely and strong enough to earn his praise? He’ll do so and even make it a point to name something specific he witnessed to ensure them he is being genuine. Zoro prided himself in being upfront and unfortunately he had to call himself a fucking coward. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he felt and anytime he considered it, he backed out just as fast. Instead he had to subject himself to the self-inflicted torture of being close with you but not in the way he fully wanted while also trying to convince himself that he only sees you as a friend because at the moment that’s all he can see you being with him.

“That drink say something to piss you off or something?” Zoro glanced out of the corner of his good eye to see Nami appear and lean against the railing he was also using to brace himself against. “You’ve been glaring at it instead of drinking it and I got concerned.”

“Nothin’ to bother yourself about.” He answered gruffly, forcing his gaze to look out at the lower section of the deck and sipped his drink as if to prove her worry wrong. Though now he had to look at the one thing he’d been trying to avoid; you talking and laughing with the others.

“You should just tell them how you feel already.” Nami hummed, her knowing smirk hidden by the rim of her glass. “Better do it soon too before your chance disappears.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Zoro tried to sound casual but her second remark had made him tense. “Definitely don’t know what you mean about my chance either.”

“Oh please, most of us know you have a feelings for them, we’re just shocked you never made a move yet.” Nami kept her gaze steady on the swordsman, trying to get him to finally see sense. “But now Sanji’s patience has run out. Says if you’re going to be such a coward about it all he’ll finally do what he’s wanted to for ages.”

“Hah!?” Zoro shouted a little too loudly, even drawing the attention of the group below. You looked up at Zoro curiously, watching as he abruptly looked away from the collective stare to focus on Nami with a harsh stare, turning his body slightly to face her. “What’s that shit cook think he’s planning? When the fuck did he call me a coward? I’m gonna slice his smug face off.”

“Wow…for a second there I’d think you were jealous at the thought of them actually falling for Sanji’s charm.” Zoro scoffed and rolled his eyes. The only charm the cook had in his opinion would barely fill a thimble. There was no way you’d fall for that over the top, dramatic, overused nonsense that he threw at anyone with a pulse. Would you? 

Cautiously Zoro looked down at the scene again and his face contorted in disgust to see Sanji’s arm loosely over your shoulder as the two of you laughed at something Usopp was telling the group. Feeling his stare, Sanji glanced up and smirked at Zoro, lightly squeezing your shoulder in affection to you but in also brazen challenge to Zoro. Sharply Zoro turned on his heel and walked down the small staircase, approaching you silently. You looked up at Zoro with a smile, excited that he was finally going to join you all but your smile lessened and became a look of concern to see how serious he was. You were about to ask if he was okay but he spoke first. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Immediately you got to your feet. You knew Zoro well enough to understand he was a man of few words and if he needed to speak to you in private then it was serious. Silently you followed him below deck, only stopping when he felt he was a safe enough distance away from the nosy crewmates left above. You let the seconds tick by, allowing Zoro take his time in voicing his thoughts but seeing him so tense made you worry. Gently you lay your hand on his arm in a way to reassure him that you were there. A gasp left you as Zoro turned suddenly and pulled you against him. His hand fell to your waist as he stared at your parted lips with growing hunger.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” The words dropped from his mouth barely a whisper but he was so close each syllable lightly grazed your skin. Unable to speak you could only nod in consent and sank headlong into the kiss Zoro secured on your lips.

LAW

When Law was captivated by his research, medical procedures, and all over Captain duties, you had to take it upon yourself to keep yourself busy. Normally that was no issue when you were on the Polar Tang and had your own duties and routine to occupy your mind with. This time was different. After running into the Strawhat crew on Punk Hazard you could only sit back and watch as Law proposed an alliance with the rival crew in order to take down one of the four Emperors. You’d been taken by surprise seeing as your Captain and boyfriend didn’t tend to play well with others who weren’t on his crew. Quickly you saw him begin to regret his offer when events began to unfold and Law found himself being dragged along by Strawhat’s whims rather than his planned course of action. 

Everything had worked out in the end though and now you and Law were on the Thousand Sunny, set for Dressrosa. Even though Law wasn’t on his own ship, he quickly made himself at home in the ship’s library and began to indulge in the large collection of books now at his disposal. Knowing you wouldn’t see him anytime soon you had to explore the ship for something to catch your attention since according to the allied crew you were a guest on board and didn’t need to do chores. It went against your nature. You wanted to help and be useful so you still offered each day you were on board. “Aren’t you tired wearing that all the time?”

You turned at the sound of Nami’s voice and immediately you looked down at your boiler suit. It was your normal clothing for the Polar Tang so you really hadn’t considered wearing anything else. Plus being on another crew’s ship it made you feel more at home, unable to stop yourself from missing the others that you knew you would reunite with at some stage. Casually you shrugged and smiled at the red-haired woman. “It’s comfy.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next thing you knew, Nami had you dragged to her room and was throwing clothes at you to try on while telling you that you were far too good looking to hide everything under so much fabric. Mostly you went along with her whims because it would be a way of taking up your unending free time on the ship. Another part of you also got drawn into how nice some of the clothes felt and looked and it was harmless fun.

Law finally dragged himself from his spot in the library and stretched out his stiff limbs. Despite his medical knowledge, he still ended up sitting in the most unwise positions that would leave his back aching and neck tensed. With a groan he made his way out onto the deck only to stagger to a halt when he saw you wearing something completely different to what he was used to you wearing but he was in no way complaining. He loved how you looked regardless but you were breathtaking. His adoration for you was suddenly soured when he saw the others fawning over you. The cook he had no issue with, but to see the sniper blushing and even the swordsman openly talking to you made him glare. Then Strawhat had to push his luck too. “You’re so great! You know you should stay on my crew!”

Law’s room activated and you were promptly swapped to now be pressed close against Law’s side. Before you could reprimand your boyfriend for being rude you were pulled below deck to the library once more and pushed against the door as it closed. You looked up at Law with widened eyes and quickened heart rate, the look in his eyes making your mouth dry and skin warm.

“It’s bad enough that I see you looking so good. I mean do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” He began lowly and you shuddered slightly. “But then I have to see them trying to get too close to you and Strawhat thinking he’s worthy of having you? Ridiculous.”

Law quickly closed the distance, using his frustration and jealousy to spur him on, kissing you passionately.

KID

Kid had no problem with people looking at you appreciatively. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Look at you. It was clear to anyone with any sense in their skulls that you were one of the hottest people about. For him to see the looks you deserved filled him with a smug sense of pride because you only had eyes for him. He was the lucky bastard that got you all to himself in the ways that it mattered. So they could take their pathetic glimpses and live with the fantasy of picturing what it was like to be with you because he got the real thing. However what he didn’t like was to watch anyone to touch you in a way that wasn’t friendly. 

On this occasion he sat in the darkened corner of a bar having to watch as you were being talked to by some drunken lech. You’d gone to the bar to collect the next round of drinks for the crew when someone approached. At first Kid had shook his head and smirked at the poor fool’s attempt to flirt but then he drew too close to you that Kid disliked. Still he knew you could handle yourself so he just had to grind his teeth and wait for you to expertly disengage yourself like you normally did. However you seemed drawn into the conversation with this man and Kid’s eyes narrowed. 

Immediately he stood with the intent on breaking things up but stopped when you quickly met his gaze. When the drunk turned his head to order another drink you had time to mouth ‘Marine’ to your boyfriend. Kid remained standing and glanced at the man warily, now seeing why you were being careful with him. Slowly he drew closer, making sure his movements were careful and silent while you kept the Marine’s attention effortlessly. Kid knew it was an act but seeing you indulge the man more made his anger grow. Just as Kid stepped behind the Marine, he drunk set his hand on your thigh and squeezed it while leaning closer to your face. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

Kid had planned to just give the bastard one quick hit to knock him out but seeing that and hearing the words spill from his mouth, he snapped. Reeling his metal arm back, he tapped the Marine on the shoulder. When he turned, his hulking fist connected with the man’s face sending him launching off his feet and slamming painfully against the bar’s wall with the impact smashing the glasses and bottles. Seeing the Marine slumped on the floor helped Kid’s pent up rage but it wasn’t enough. Quickly he grinned at you and pulled you into his arms so he could throw you over his shoulder and leave the bar, no longer in the mood to drink. You stayed happily on Kid’s broad shoulder with a growing smirk as you listened to his jealous mutterings the closer you drew to the ship. 

When you were finally set on your feet on the ship you turned in Kid’s hold that he refused to let you out of and smiled up at him expectantly. When Kid got like this you could practically time the sequence of events and this was your favourite part. Kid stooped down and with a low groan kissed you, devouring your taste and consuming your thoughts with only him while letting your magnetic presence and intoxicating touch leave him wanting more. You were the only one for him and by the morning should anyone look your way in appreciation again they’d spot some pretty marks on your neck to admire too.

LUCCI

Lucci was a master of his emotions for the most part. He could adopt a personality and live it perfectly for the purposes of a mission and then discard it when it was finished. He could keep his true nature at bay should he need it but in the freedom of Cipher Pol’s base he can just be himself. With powerful strides he walks down the corridors only to stop outside one of the training rooms in time to see you land a kick against Jabra’s stomach. Quickly he recovered and sent an attack your way. You managed to dodge it in time but Jabra caught you by surprise by sending a followup attack and knocked you to the ground, his hand at your throat to keep you pinned down.

For a moment you let your body go slack in a sign of surrender and the second you felt Jabra’s grip loosen you acted, disentangling out of his hold and attacked, taking advantage of his moment of surprise. Just as you were getting into the rhythm of the fight another agent appeared beside Lucci. “Jabra! We have a mission! Did you forget or something?”

You and Jabra paused your fight and you scowled at your sparring partner. You wouldn't have asked him to train with you had you known he would have to cut it short for a mission that he apparently knew about. Jabra briefly glanced at Lucci and quickly threw his arm around your waist before answering his mission partner. “Nah, didn’t forget. I just got a much better offer.” his wolfish grin spreading when he spotted Lucci’s eyes narrow at the comment. You however rolled your eyes and stepped out of the older agent’s hold. “We’ll pick this up when I get back, right?”

“We’ll see.” You told him dismissively which only earned you a quick wink before he left, leaving you alone in the training room with Lucci who remained leaning against the door, looking at his shoulder in disgust when Jabra had the nerve to brush past him on his exit.

“Didn’t know your standards were so low when picking a sparring partner.” He noted, watching you critically. You tilted your head at him curiously and slowly smirked. 

“I’ll be fighting degenerates and unsavoury people out in the field, I wanted someone as close to that as possible for authentic training purproses.” You explained with a light shrug. “Jabra fits that closely, don't you think?”

Lucci allowed himself a low chuckle and pushed away from the doorframe, while pulling the door closed behind him to grant you both a moment of privacy. Your relationship with Lucci was one ou both didn’t feel like putting a real label on. For now you merely enjoyed the physical and social benefits it brought. You remained still as you watched him approach, your eyes alight with interest and mischief that not even he could find himself immune to. “I can see the logic but I can smell that filthy mutt all over you.”

“Jealous?"

“I don't get jealous.” Lucci growled, his hand setting on your waist, merely a coincidence that his hand covered the precise spot Jabra had touched. Your lips twitched into a disbelieving smile and you playfully nodded, pretending to accept his claim. Lucci’s free hand reached up to skim along your throat, again pure coincidence at the placement before he curled his fingers under your jaw to coax you to tilt your head up. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now to get rid of that mutt’s stench?”

“Then do it, Chief.” You said stepping a tiny bit closer. “Let Jabra come back and know for sure that I’m a cat person.” 

With a growl Lucci kissed you possessively, hungrily with purpose of doing just as you suggested. His main goal was to wipe any lingering trace of Jabra from your skin and wipe the other man’s name from your mind. He was very aware that you didn’t see the wolf man that way but still it brought out that animalistic conflict in him, the need to be better than him and from your reactions to his kiss he knew for sure that Lucci was the clear winner.

-----------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @chaotic-on-main

[plutoslastwords]

More baby norris please. What about her having an innocent baby crush on one of the drivers (Charles, George,..) and Labdo being an overprotectiv dad.

new favourite

lando norris x daughter!reader, charles leclerc x norris!daughter!reader, (slight) carlos sainz x norris!daughter!reader

summary: baby norris finds a new paddock crush, lando is less than pleased.

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.2k

a/n: sorry i've been mia for the past week.... but i'm back :DD hope you guys enjoy, thank you so so so so so so so much for 200 followers, i am genuinely lost for words, i love you all! pls feel free to send in any requests xx

~~~

Though they wouldn’t say that they are each other’s best friends, the Formula 1 drivers do end up spending quite a lot of time together. 

Whether it be at races, events or even travelling together, no matter how different some sort of bond is created between them all. They are the people who really understand each other, the only ones who know exactly what they’re all going through.

This means that being the daughter of Lando Norris, you also know the other drivers fairly well. 

Lando doesn’t mind this at all, honestly it’s great. It’s an excuse to put some babysitting jobs onto his other drivers, and they can’t say anything about it because just look at your face!

He does mind, however, when a certain Monaquese driver manages to woo his perfect, precious angel. 

It starts at the Monaco Grand Prix. You’re holding your daddy’s hand, toddling through the paddock, occasionally pointing at something that you find especially exciting, whilst Lando talks to a media crew about his thoughts and feelings for the weekend. 

Your big grins grows impossibly bigger when you see your favourite Uncle Carlos! You giggle gleefully, detaching yourself from Lando and sprinting as fast as you can to Carlos’ awaiting arms.

“Chiquita!! I’ve missed you!” He spins you around in the air, whilst you carry on giggling. “Why don’t I take you into Ferrari, hm? You think your daddy would mind?”

You shake your head, you don’t care if your daddy does mind, you just want to spend time with Uncle Carlos.

You had never been in the Ferrari garage before, and you probably stick out like a sore thumb, dressed in a little pink dress with a little papaya Mclaren cap atop your head. Some of the mechanics give you and Carlos some odd looks, but eventually connect the dots in their heads. 

“Carlos, who’s this?” A new, strange voice asks. Carlos turns and so you do too, the strange man reminds you of Carlos a bit, but not really. He has pretty eyes. And pretty hair. You shove your face into Carlos’ shoulder, giggling quietly to yourself about the strange pretty man.

Carlos chuckles at your antics, “This is Lando’s little one,” He introduces you, “Chiquita, are you going to say hi to Charles?” He strokes your hair. 

You shake your head, still giggling. You poke your head up to look at the pretty man again, he’s smiling at you now, his smile is pretty as well. You shove your face back into Carlos’ neck.

“Baby, say hi to Charles, hm?” 

You give a slight, shy wave, barely lifting your head from its sanctuary in Carlos’ neck. The pretty man coos at you. 

“Hello, cherie…” You like his voice as well, he has a nice voice. You giggle. “She’s a bit shy?” He asks Carlos.

“She’s normally quite excited, what’s up with you, hm?” You just shake your head again, embarrassed at showing your face in front of the pretty man. “Is Charles scaring you, chiquita?”

You shake your head, not wanting to admit anything to Carlos. 

Before he can say anything in response, however, someone calls his name saying that he is needed urgently somewhere in the garage.

“Oh god, I should go. Charles, can you bring her back to Lando?”

Charles nods, and accepts you when Carlos passes you to him. You like the feeling of being in pretty man’s arms. You put your head on his shoulder, watching everything going on behind him. 

“Okay, cherie, we’re gonna get you back to your daddy now, does that sound okay?” 

You nod in response, just content with being in his hold, no matter what you’re doing. 

“Can’t believe I haven’t met you before, hm? Gotta get to know you, what’s your favourite colour, cherie?” 

“Pink…” you giggle, excited to be talking about your favourite things with the pretty man.

On the journey from the Ferrari garage to the Mclaren garage the pretty man continues asking you questions in order to get to know you. You become quite fond of him, he has a little dog called Leo who he has said that you can meet. 

By the time you get to the Mclaren garage, you don’t want to let go. But soon, enough Charles spots Lando and begins heading over. 

“Oh hello, my angel! How was Ferrari?” Lando coos, reaching out to take you from Charles, but you refuse, clinging onto him like a little crab.

“Baby.. c’mon, we gotta let Charles get back, okay? Come to daddy, my love…” You shake your head, still refusing. You want to stay with the nice, pretty man. 

“It’s okay, cherie, I will see you again soon, okay? I promise.” Charles hands you over to your dad, which you begrudgingly accept, blushing at his words.

Lando notices this, sending Charles an odd look. He gives him a short goodbye, before taking you to his driver’s room, where you are going to stay whilst he goes out for a practise session.

“You liked Charles then…?”

You just giggle, embarrassed again that people have noticed your slight infatuation with the pretty man.

“Baby… Charles is a boy, boys are stinky!!”

“Charles smells nice, daddy!” 

He sighs at that. He knows that there’s no winning with this, and he hates it. No matter how silly it may be, his tiny, perfect, angel daughter has a crush and he’s not happy. 

“No, darling, Charles is a boy, boys aren’t nice, okay?”

You frown at that, Charles was very nice to you…

The conversation ends there, Lando placing you in his driver’s room, with a member of the team to look after you, giving you a sweet kiss on the top of the head before he goes out to practise.

***

The next time that you get to see Charles is at Silverstone. You’re walking through the paddock with your Grandma and Grandpa when you see him.

You screech and toddle over to him. He gives you a similar grin, scooping you up into his arms.

“Salut, cherie! It has been so long!” He hugs you close, taking you into the Ferrari hospitality with him.

When his parents tell him that you have gone off with Charles, Lando is not happy. He marches to the Ferrari hospitality.

“Baby, it’s time to go now, okay?” He says, leaving no room for arguments as he grabs you from Charles’ arms.

You kick up a bit of a fuss, whining in protest and flailing your limbs about, but your dad’s mind is made up and you’re not strong enough to go against it. 

“Angel, I thought I told you that Charles was a meanie boy, hm?” He berates, with no real malice, as he walks you back to Mclaren.

“But Charlie is nice, daddy!”

“No, baby, all boys are mean and you will never ever ever like them, okay? You promise daddy? Daddy will look after you, forever and ever”

“I promise…” as much as you love Charles, in the end there is no one that you love quite as much as your daddy..

“Good girl, daddy loves you more than anything.”

~~~

a/n: tysm for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! send in any requests or if you just want a chat xx