#bros on foot 2023

[toastinthegrass]

[shinee525subs]

Bros on foot with Ha Jeong Woo, Joo Ji Hoon and Yeo Jin Goo

[astonmartinii]

rookie love | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x hamilton!reader

sure it's a rookie mistake to lose it in a corner, but is it a rookie mistake to fall in love with lewis hamilton's younger sister?

request from the lovely @starfriuts

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

f1

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,324,772 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, yourusername & logansargeant

f1: welcome the rookie class of 2023 !! 2021 f2 champion oscar piastri will race for mclaren, 2022 f2 champion y/n hamilton will be racing for aston martin and 2022 f2 runner up logan sargeant will be racing for williams!

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user1: MY prema girlies

user2: 2019 rookies i am so sorry but there's a new favourite in town

yourusername: two hamiltons on the grid i know that's right 💅 👯‍♀️

lewishamilton: they hate us cause they ain't us

yourusername: they can't handle the sass

lewishamilton: neither can the fia

yourusername: ... yeah i've been briefed :(

user3: okay, walk with me. if y/n does all of grill the grid, lewis might do the secret santa again

user4: hopes and prayers

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm teammates with a rookie hamilton, i think i've seen this film before

yourusername: i lived through that old man, don't think i won't use your own tricks on you

fernandoalo_oficial: well there's no dna test necessary here

yourusername: the slay is hereditary, but clearly skipped your generation

fernandoalo_oficial: HEY

oscarpiastri: get her jade

fernandoalo_oficial: EY?

user5: the way the grid are not ready for how ride or die y/n and oscar are for each other

user6: bro just quoted COCO MONTRESE for her i am so ready

logansargeant: dude we're getting the band back together

oscarpiastri: f1 boyband have nothing on us

yourusername: xnda who?

lewishamilton: :/

yourusername: no one is safe sorry lew @charles_leclerc you're next piano boy

charles_leclerc: WHAT

user7: i know the aston martin pr department sweating buckets with both fernando and y/n

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lewishamilton and 1,332,551 others

yourusername: the hamilton name comes with the wardrobe

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user8: finally lewis has some competition

user9: if there's something a hamilton is going to do it's going to be wearing a monochromatic outfit.

lewishamilton: was the third photo really necessary?

yourusername: yes!

lewishamilton: you're so corny

yourusername: i know this man ain't speaking.... DIGITAL FOOTPRINT

lewishamilton: girl. i've read your diary and your code names don't mean SHIT

yourusername: YOU WHAT?

lewishamilton: got bored when you had a work call ?

yourusername: come to aston's hospitality i got something to show you

lewishamilton: just text me

yourusername: no. spoiler: it's my FOOT up your ASS

user10: so i thought the tussles would be between fernando and y/n not y/n and lewis

georgerussell63: this is just how they are, they'll be besties again in like two minutes

oscarpiastri: why is my outfit not on here you said i slayed :(

yourusername: you did slay !!

landonorris: he literally wore a team shirt and chinos

yourusername: yes but on the oscar scale that is a slay

oscarpiastri: exactly

landonorris: ok?

yourusername: watch your tone mr. norris, you're being awfully loud for a ripped skinny jeans owner 🤨

landonorris: ????

oscarpiastri: :)

user11: okay i think i get the whole ride or die thing now

logansargeant: believe me it gets worse

lewishamilton

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,844,902 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: bucket list moment ticked off to share a podium in f1 with my baby sister !!

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user14: two hamiltons in f1 and on the podium before gta 6

user15: we got two hamiltons on the podium but still can't escape a max win

yourusername: thank you for not posting the picture of me bawling my eyes out

lewishamilton: i thought i'd be nice, just this once. i'm proud of you

yourusername: thank youuuuuuuuuuuuu. insane to be on the podium with my biggest idol

maxverstappen1: y/n that's very kind of you

lewishamilton: really?

yourusername: 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭

maxverstappen1: saw the opportunity and had to go for it

yourusername: i respect that

lewishamilton: but i am your biggest idol right?

yourusername: yes.

user16: max really out here like i will make a double hamilton podium about me LOL

oscarpiastri: that's my best friend GO BEST FRIEND

yourusername: oscar piastri podium coming soon @mclaren get ur shit together

oscarpiastri: PR KNOW SHE DOESN'T MEAN THAT

yourusername: no i mean every word i wanna be on the podium with oscar :(

oscarpiastri: slumber party ?

yourusername: i'll be there @logansargeant u coming?

logansargeant: i don't really feel like third wheeling

this comment was deleted

logansargeant: if you're buying the room service - yeah

user17: LOGAN WE SAW THAT

user18: y/n x oscar truthers we have some more evidence for the board

user19: gets first woman in f1 on the podium... immediately assumes she’s in a relationship with another driver

user20: i see where you're coming from but watch the prema videos and tell me there's no tension there

user21: idk if oscar can handle all of that ...

user22: i have faith in my goofy lil guy

liked by yourusername

user22: WHAT

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 612,094 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: pookie was on the podium

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user23: okay you shipper bitches may have had a point...

yourusername: when pookie calls you pookie you know it's real

fernandoalo_oficial: i have never felt older than when i listen to you and oscar talk for more than five minutes

yourusername: the girls who get it, get it

oscarpiastri: and the girls who don't.... well

fernandoalo_oficial: i am a 42 year old man

yourusername: and it shows

oscarpiastri: ... oop

user24: oh they annoying... KEEP GOING

lewishamilton: so this is what you left the after party for?

yourusername: yeah and what about it?

lewishamilton: okay like maybe i need to separate you and oscar cause why are you eating me up

yourusername: i'm me but oscar is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse

oscarpiastri: guilty as charged (i learnt everything from your sister)

user25: you guys acting like oscar being like this is a surprise ... we didn't all see him scalp alpine last summer?

user26: the way in my head him and y/n wrote that tweet together and were giggling the whole time

yourusername: we can neither confirm or deny

user27: that's confirmation to me

logansargeant: when will the logan sargeant erasure end?

yourusername: when you serve as much as me?

logansargeant: i am TRYING

yourusername: plus this is an appreciation post for me, stop trying to steal opportunities from women

logansargent: HUH?

oscarpiastri: so disappointing from you logan...

logansargeant: i'm so done with you two

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,309,562 others

yourusername: summer break is annoying i wanna go racing again

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user31: WHO IS THAT MAN?

user32: my brain (psychosis) tells me it is oscar

user33: i'll believe you

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU SOFT LAUNCH WITHOUT TELLING ME

yourusername: girl. sort the tone and i'll call you

lewishamilton: do you think i am dumb? i know exactly who that is, i just need the confirmation so i can beat his ass

yourusername: why would i tell you if you're gonna beat his ass?

lewishamilton: JUST TELL ME

yourusername: you'll have to find me to do that, see you in zandvoort xxx

user34: i think lewis is having brocedes flashbacks

user35: i know bro is PACING

fernandoalo_oficial: you wanna give me a tow in qualifying?

yourusername: why would i do that old man?

fernandoalo_oficial: @lewishamilton i know.

lewishamilton: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? FERNANDO KNOWS?

yourusername: NOT ON PURPOSE HE'S JUST NOSEY AND LIKES TO READ MY TEXTS OVER MY SHOULDER

fernandoalo_oficial: guilty 💅

yourusername: fine. one tow.

fernandoalo_oficial: thanks girly

user36: we have to study the girlypopification of fernando since being teammates with y/n

oscarpiastri: it's missing pookie hours

yourusername: i am having separation anxiety

user37: these hoes think we don't know 😂

user38: they think they're throwing us on their scent ... YALL NOT SUBTLE

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 802,778 others

oscarpiastri: does this count as a win?

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user39: sorry max we got an oscar win we don't care about your championship win

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO POOKIE

oscarpiastri: slumber party is gonna eat i fear (why do we have to race tomorrow?)

yourusername: you know who else ate? YOU TODAY

oscarpiastri: hehehehe i guess i did

yourusername: no i am so fucking proud of you

oscarpiastri: love you

yourusername: luv you too

user40: okay so they're just playing with our feelings now?

landonorris: proud of you bro (please turn down the beyonce)

oscarpiastri: don't make me enter my lemonade era

landonorris: are you threatening me with a brocedes?

oscarpiastri: maybe?

yourusername: lmao watch your ass lando, i gave him the play-by-play i was in the brocedes trenches

lewishamilton: 1. happy for you oscar 2. SHUT THE FUCK UP

oscarpiastri: oops?

yourusername: sorry lewis, we'll stop joking about britney if you finally call him

nicorosberg: stop calling me that

lewishamilton: why are you here?

nicorosberg: just observing...

user41: poor lewis having his trauma used as a joke 😭

logansargeant: i'm defo skipping this slumber party

user42: you want to elaborate?

logansargeant: no. i don't think i will

user43: JUST SPILL

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,903,448 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: got my first win, me and my boyfriend are better than you x

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user44: I FUCKING KNEW IT

user45: i'm gonna need all the bitches who came for me for shipping them so give me my flowers

oscarpiastri: finally. you're too cute not to kiss all the time

yourusername: then hurry up and come here

oscarpiastri: gladly

user46: no i think he actually went, these bitches usually never shut the fuck up

lewishamilton: ...

georgerussell63: oscar RUN THE BREATHING TECHNIQUES AREN'T WORKING

alexalbon: no he's actually going to scrap you RUN FOR YOUR LIFE

landonorris: those dumbasses don't know what is about to hit them

yourusername: why is logan texting me 911 who is being dramatic

yourusername: wait

yourusername: is that him already

georgerussell63: yes for such a short man he's surprisingly fast

lewishamilton: OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR

yourusername: no!

lewishamilton: I JUST WANNA TALK

oscarpiastri: your tone is scaring me

yourusername: OSCAR NO

lewishamilton: OPEN THE DOOR

user47: it's been 20 mins, can we have an update

oscarpiastri: i am alive!

lewishamilton: regardless of what just happened, i am so proud of you y/n !!

yourusername: i love you big brother :))))))

lewishamilton: you're such an inspiration, here's to many more!

user48: lewis being all supportive now after he's scrapped oscar?

lewishamilton: i didn't fight him, he had 30 seconds to convince me not to kill him

oscarpiastri: i did very well :)

lewishamilton: sure

yourusername: you did great babe

oscarpiastri: :)

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 1,099,457 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: please don't put me into the barriers lewis, i love your sister

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user51: i think it's safe to say that the 2023 rookies have out done the 2019 rookie sorry not sorry

yourusername: POOKIE, I LOVE YOU POOKIE

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOO POOKIE

logansargeant: can i like have a medal or some championship points for 1. dealing with this nonsense and 2. keeping this a secret

yourusername: you're our favourite third wheel? that's all i got

oscarpiastri: we also pay for your room service every time

logansargeant: ... fine

user52: they're all so close to me, need y/n and oscar to be the first husband and wife to both win a championship

yourusername: that's the plan 🤞

oscarpiastri: are you PROPOSING TO ME?

yourusername: not yet...

oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe

lewishamilton: SLAM ON THE BRAKES, I JUST GOT USED TO THIS LET'S NOT BRING UP MARRIAGE

yourusername: maybe you need to leave your slag era so i can wife oscar

lewishamilton: DO NOT SLUTSHAME ME

user53: the hamilton piastri house about to be ground zero for the sassy man apocalypse

landonorris: you people are so grossly in love, how did we miss it?

alexalbon: speak for yourself it was so obvious

yourusername: we we're pretty obvious

oscarpiastri: yeah i can confirm that when we told you we were having a pillow fight, we were not

landonorris: WHAT

lewishamilton: delete this.

fernandoalo_oficial: @yourusername did you guys do this so you didn't have to give me a tow?

yourusername: yes xoxoxo

note: i hope you enjoy. life is insane right now but i got my first article at the top of the google rankings so there's that. also ordered my graduation gown and dress!! much love x

[formulamar]

she's a ferrari

charles leclerc x yn!ferrari

fc: Addison Rae

summary: as a child, the great-grand daughter of Enzo Ferrari used to spend her weekends hanging around the paddock. but once she went off to university her appearances became rare. what happens when she starts working for Ferrari? and... one of the drivers steals her heart.

October 2023

rumorhasitf1

liked by cl16fan and 3,049 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨RUMOR CONFIRMED 🚨

After not being seen at a F1 Grand Prix in three years Y/N Ferrari stuns at the 2023 Austin Grand Prix.

643 comments

ferrarifan3: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GODD!!!!!!!!

ferrarifan0: LETS GOOOO

f1fan6: THE QUEEN IS BACKKKKKKK

-> mclarenfan8: wait i'm new fan. can someone explain who this is???

-> ferrarifan3: yn is Enzo Ferrari's great-grand daughter. she's attended races since she was maybe 5 or 6 years old and formed really close bonds w the drivers (mostly the Ferrari drivers ofc) its an ongoing joke that Fernando is her "f1 dad" because he was very protective of her and they have a close bond.

tifosi9: I NEVER DOUBTED U @/rumorhasitf1

liked by rumorhasitf1

f1fan05: amazing day for Fernando Alonso

ferrarifan7: she looks so grown up omggggg 🥲

twitter

🔒 ynferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, ynbff and 560 others

🔒ynferrari: austinnnnn had so much fun but not a good weekend for the fam :(

67 comments

fernandoalonso: Where was my invitation???

->🔒 ynferrari: this is literally your workplace…

ynbff: yn ur hotter than austin will ever be (I've never stepped foot in austin)

-> ynferrari: babe I appreaciate this but it is actually so hot here I am going to die

landonorris: @/ynbff was right

-> carlossainz55: Carbón 😂

-> fernandoalonso: @/landonorris you want to have a chat?

-> ynferrari: NO NANDO HES JOKING

charles_leclerc: Hope you visit more often yn!

liked by ynferrari

-> danielricciardo: Ok... 🤔

🔒 ynferrari's story

twitter

ynferrari_updates

liked by cl16fan, 1644lvrrr and 409 others

ynferrari_updates: yn is in the paddock for the mexico gp!!!!! forza ferrari!!!

53 comments

ferrarifan3: ferrari princess is back!!!!

charlesfan83: SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

ln4s: omg i wanna see the rest of her outfit so bad

lordpercevalfan: THE PEARLS!!!!!

ferrarienthusiast38: it’s my dream to meet her 🥹

charlesleclerc16updates

charlesleclerc16updates: Charles responding to a question about Y/N during his post-race interview ❤

60 comments

cl16fan: HIS SMILE AWE

charlnor: "getting to know each other better" getting to know each other better. getting to know each other better. GETTING TO KNOW EACH OTHER BETTER! getting to know each other better?

-> f1fan6: bro is talking like they're going out or something

-> charlesfan2: this + the speculation on Twitter is making me start to believe they might be dating

lec4: can we talk about how is whole face lit up when he was asked about her because it makes me feel insane

-> ferrarifan7: I NOTICED THAT TOOOO

user: I don't get this. Y/N is just another nepo baby parading her status around the paddock who's last name happens to be Ferrari. How is she helping the team???

-> charlnor: yn is very passionate about motorsport and has been since she was little. a lot of the team members who have been working at Ferrari for years know her very well and have seen her grow up. she's also known for being a very kind person. and if you haven't noticed she does not "parade" anything around. she's a very private person most of what we know about her is info from fan interactions, team members or drivers. Ferrari is a family and its literally her LEGACY.

November 2023

🔒ynferrari's story

to be continued…

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

a/n: i’ve had this idea in my head forever 🤭🤭 reblog if you want part 2!!! + pls comment if you want to be on the taglist :)

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

-

-

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 

“I was.” 

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 

It’s just not the right time. 

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 

All the words around you just as speechless. 

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 

And a little bit of summer rain. 

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence. 

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 

Shit. 

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 

Why can’t he fucking move? 

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?” 

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 

“Nah, come now.” 

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 

“Shit, I know.” 

“We can’t keep doing this.” 

“Dude, relax, I get it.” 

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 

Dumbass: Incoming Call 

Of fucking course. 

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.” 

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 

“Everything, Yoong.” 

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 

So, so far away. 

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 

“How did that sound?” 

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to. 

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 

“Do the chorus again.” 

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 

Done. He said it. 

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 

Huh. They’re gonna take that? 

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 

“Let’s see how it sounds.” 

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 

“If there’s something you need to get through...” 

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What. 

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck! 

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that. 

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?” 

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…” 

“No?” 

Just hurry up and fucking do it. 

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 

His ex? 

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 

“I think she feels all alone.” 

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 

Unprecedented.  

“You’re the best out of all of us.” 

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.” 

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s over now.” 

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 

Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 

For three. Fucking. Months. 

“I might.” 

“…K.” 

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 

What time is it? 

All that greets him is darkness. 

Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 

And the darkness pulls him back under. 

Without even telling him the time. 

Buzzing. 

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages 

Chim: 7 Messages   

Chim: Missed Calls (3) 

Holy fuck. 

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 

“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 

“Mm.” 

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 

“He told you?” 

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 

“Ah.” 

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 

“That it’s done.” 

A hum. 

“That’s very true.” 

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Knowing the answer.” 

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 

“You’ll know it when you see it.” 

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!” 

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 

“K. Same time tomorrow?” 

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 

“Relax! You will like it.” 

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up. 

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 

That sounds like fucking bliss. 

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too. 

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 

After all this time. All these days and nights. 

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 

Something that isn’t broken. 

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 

What. No way. 

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 

Hustler: Incoming Call 

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 

“Are we… is this over?” 

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 

“Are you? With me?” 

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 

“No way in hell, doll.” 

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 

That’s okay. 

Because he’s had a day, too. 

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 

Please keep going. 

Please don’t leave him alone. 

“Talk to me.” 

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 

You’re so good at that. 

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 

“Fuck, really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 

“What did he say?” 

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 

“Oh, thank fuck.” 

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.” 

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.” 

“What are you still talking to me for?” 

“I miss you.” 

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 

“Why?” 

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 

“Fuck.” 

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.” 

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 

“Ha ha.” 

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout? 

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 

“Wait, huh? Why!” 

“Nothing.” 

“I swear to god—” 

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 

“Kitchen.” 

The hell? “How’d you know?” 

“You’re always in there.” 

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 

“The world said let them cook.” 

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.” 

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 

Because of you. It’s always you. 

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 

Right towards the corner that stares back. 

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 

This is so hard. 

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.  

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man. 

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call 

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 

“Hey.” 

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 

“Do better.” 

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 

“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 

“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.” 

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 

And you want that to be the case forever. 

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 

“Damn!” 

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 

“You could’ve asked somebody.” 

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 

“Just a bite then.” 

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 

“Everything.” 

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 

“…Yeah.” 

Fuck. “About what?” 

“That you’d hate me.” 

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 

“You do?” 

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 

“Hmm?” 

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 

“Always, doll.” 

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 

What is it with him and keys? 

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.” 

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?” 

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 

“Good. You bored?”  

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man. 

“Forever might be a stretch.” 

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 

“It was kinda hot.” 

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 

“Uh huh.” 

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys? 

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why me?” 

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 

Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 

All you can do is stare back. 

And without even realizing. 

You’re already rubbing your arm.

-

-

tbc. :((

-

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Swirlypod

Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

YIPPEE YAHOO! A brand swirlin' new snail fresh for 2023! It has been quite a long time now since we've gotten a new Mario snail, and even since I've posted about one, since I covered all the snailiest Mario snails a while ago. But lookie here! Snaily snaily snail for me to see and for you to view!

Swirlypod is so delightful! To get this out of the way first, yes, its eyes are not on the ends of stalks. Yes, this is good and okay. Some snails are like that! Especially freshwater snails. And that's the kind of snail that this snail seems to be! While sometimes seen on land, it is also seen emerging from (poisonous) swamps. It can breathe that!

Swirlypod's face is just so, so precious. Its big, innocent, curious eyes experiencing the world in the way only a snail could! Its big ol' bulbous antennae, more bulbous than they have any right being, more like a nudibranch's than a normal snail's! And its mouth! I think that's its mouth? It's like three scrumbly tentacles ready to scrumble down some delicious fungus!

Did you know that the salt marsh snail Littoraria irrorata is able to FARM fungus? They damage marsh grasses to create large wounds for fungus to grow in, and even use their own poop as fertilizer! Snails can FARM!

Yes, indeed, what a wonderful snail we have here! Thank you, Super Mario Bros. Wonder!

...Hey! That shell comes right off! Now it's all Pod, with no Swirly! Does this mean Lime is The Impostor? I may have just asked you, but that was rhetorical. Don't ask me, because I don't know! Removable shells are a common ability for cartoon snails, and of course, the turtles of this world also have removable shells. I think it doesn't really mean much at all! Though, the idea of a "hermit slug" is very amusing. A snail who can't be bothered to grow its own shell. Maybe it wants to switch shells for different styles sometimes. A slow victim of fast fashion!

Wonder is one of those games where Koopa Troopas retreat into their shells when stomped, so Swirlypod is sort of a way to have Beach Koopa in the same game as the more standardly-behaving Koopa! Once it gets back on its foot, it will try to squirm back into a shell, if one is available. You can give it back! Just drop it down at your feet, and Swirlypod will have a home once more!

Another thing that sets Swirlypods apart from Koopas is that they are sticky slimy and can slither up and down vertical surfaces! Just like in real life! They don't only climb on the left and right sides of surfaces, either. They can even go on the surface facing the screen! Not just anyone is allowed to do that!

I am saving what may be the best tidbit for last! There is a good chance Swirlypod's bulbous antennae look familiar to you. That's because they look just like Leucochloridium paradoxum, the green-banded broodsac, everyone's favorite snail parasite! The flatworm that inhabits a snail's eyestalks, making them look more like caterpillars to get a bird to eat them so they can continue their life cycle! Swirlypod definitely isn't supposed to be like, ACTUALLY infected by this funny worm, but I think the resemblance is very much intentional, between the shape and coloring. And that is so awesome to see! This isn't even meant to be a scary snail or anything, but they represented a freaky parasite anyway!

[tonberry-yoda]

HIIIIII ITS MEEEE- 🚁 the brrrr

its not papa croc but fluff croc is as 💪😤 ✨

Hereeeee

Croc maybe had something he had to tend to and returned late at night to y/n sleeping in dim lights in their very the comfortable the room 😌

And bro as always, tried to be as silent he can, doing his night routine before getting into the bed

But then croc had to hit his foot on the side of something that led to him hitting his head on another thing and something knocked over something and the other thing fell but he caught the thing in time landing on the floor on his bed in a swift magic poof poof move ykno

Thats when he heard a small mumble "crocodile you're an idiot" with a small mumbled laugh

When he looked towards y/n, shes still asleep and snoring and yes

As always you can take a smol percent of this idea or add more stuff to it and take this as an inspirationnn or no do this one 😌

Btw i saw your pending request list and jaw is dropped 👁️👄👁️

Proves you are a really good writer bc yu slayy :)

Anyway have great day and may yu continue to slay 🙏✨

-heli go brrrr 🐑🛋️

Late Again - Crocodile

notes - AHHHHH HI!!! I just finished Impel Down and saw wifey croc and nearly lost my mind! I love him sm and have been brainrotting for him B A D! Thank you for being the croc lover here and I am so glad this was still in my inbox for me to do tee hee. Lots of love and thank you so much for your kind words as always, it means a lot <3 word count - 339

You sighed at you dimmed the lights. He had to be home soon. You just kept reminding yourself that as you tucked yourself in your warm sheets. You were used to Croc being out late, but tucking yourself into bed was always pretty hard.

Passing out though was a whole other ordeal. And an actual easy one. You worked hard, almost just as hard as your husband, so getting to sleep was nothing and you would always pass out, lights on or off.

---

Crocodile opened the front door slowly, sighing as he knew you were probably out by now. He wasn't keeping track of time and the moment he looked at the clock, he wanted to slap himself in the face.

He packed up as quickly as he could and came home to darkness. Luckily, he already ate, so he didn't have to worry about that, but damn would it be nice to get a kiss or a hug or anything after such a long day.

He slipped off his shoes and hung up his coat before going upstairs. A sliver of hope came to him when he saw the light on in your bedroom, but that always happened. So when he saw the dim light shining on your sleeping figure, a little bit of disappointment swept over him.

He tried tip toeing around, but failed miserably when he hit his foot on the side of the nightstand, which made an empty glass fall (surprisingly not shattering in the process) and then he hit his head on a bookshelf nearby somehow, which made him again hit the same foot from earlier onto the bed frame.

Crocodile felt like such an idiot and he looked at you with wide eyes.

Somehow you were still asleep.

Until you let out a mumble. "You're such an idiot, Croc."

He turned off the lamp and crawled into bed. "You don't have to tell me twice." he whispered.

But as he wrapped his arms around you, he noticed that you were still fast asleep.

~~~~~

one piece masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober 2023 Day 1 - "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Hello everyone, and welcome to Finn's Whumptober! This is the first of the past fifteen days to come out, and the other fourteen will be releasing every hour on the hour! I've put an incredible amount of work into making these (the first batch is like. 30k words alone-) so if you guys have been craving some of my content, here you go! You're getting plenty nowadays!

GENERAL TWS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF MY STORIES: blood, vomit, beatings, assault, bullying, kinda gorey at some points, other stuff just be careful. I'll go back through and tag each individually if I need to!

Since I'm scheduling these, I won't have the opportunity to add anyone but @splinnters to the tag list, but there's going to be so many of them that I feel like it's going to be easy to find. Hope you enjoy reading all of these as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Words: 2.1k

Jay was bored.

Who knew working a party could be so mind-numbingly boring? The point of parties was to let loose and have fun, and yet here he was, stuck in a dumb stuffy suit in the corner only watching as everyone got more and more drunk off their asses. He sipped at his disappointedly non-alcoholic punch, pretending like he was keeping a careful eye over the rest of the patrons as they danced.

Getting called to watch Cyrus Borg’s work functions was one of the worst things to happen to him in recent times.

“Check in, everyone,” Lloyd said over the comm, and Jay tapped his foot against the ground as he waited for everyone else to sound off. Cole was standing on the entire other side of the room, and Jay had long since given up trying to hold a mime’s version of a conversation with his brother when the earth ninja only gave him an unimpressed stare after the first gesture. At least he was stuck in here with his best friend rather than Kai or Zane; knowing them, he would’ve gotten a full lecture rather than just a look.

A crackle, and then his beautiful Yang’s angelic voice. “Kai and I are clear.”

Part of Jay wanted to chime in and talk to her with a casual conversation about guest gossip, but he had already gotten in enough trouble tonight; he couldn’t start pushing it.

Zane and Pixal both spoke, and then it was Cole’s turn. “Jay and I are clear, although someone needs to start laying off the punch. He’s already almost spilled on himself more than once.”

“Hey!” Jay exclaimed, but he still kept it down so no one would start listening in. It pleased him immensely to hear Nya giggle over the comm, and it took every bit of self-restraint to keep from playing up the act. “I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Sure you are, bro,” Cole rolled his eyes across the room, and Jay felt his power start to flicker under his skin in frustration. Pushing the lightning down, Jay huffed, checking in with Lloyd before going back to his self-assigned duty of people-watching. At least he had a nice spot next to the punch table.

It wasn’t very long before someone bumped into him, causing his drink to slosh around and over the rim of his glass. Jay turned to face whoever it was, ready to give them a piece of his mind for almost getting punch on his nice shoes (seriously, they were brand-new!), but he stopped when he remembered that these people were all civillians and he did have to at least make an effort to be nice.

Unfortunately.

“I’m so sorry about that,” the stranger said, flashing his pearly whites and readjusting his cuffs. Jay’s danger sense was going off, and he resisted every urge in his body that was screaming for him to run far away from here. This was just a normal guy, so why was he feeling like this?

“Don’t worry about it, no harm done,” Jay chuckled, masking his discomfort with ease. It was one of his most used skills, especially in social situations.

“Surely you wouldn’t mind if I just got you another glass? Anything for a great hero of Ninjago!”

Never accept drinks from strangers, dear, he could hear his Ma say, and Jay always heeded the advice his mother gave him after the Underwear Incident.

He shook his head. “No thank you, don’t worry about it. Go enjoy the festivities, please, I insist.”

A rather cold goodbye for the sociable lightning ninja; Jay hoped that no one else would notice so it wouldn’t end up on the media. What a mess to clean up that would be, and the others already made enough messes online. The man huffed as if Jay had personally offended him, stalking off into the crowd where Jay’s eyes couldn’t be bothered to follow him. Frowning, Jay took another sip of his drink, only to bring it away from his mouth in confusion.

Why did it taste different?

Must be my lightning, Jay thought to himself as he drank it, noticing the previously sweet taste switching to salty. His lightning tended to change his taste buds whenever he suppressed it, just another little quirk of having powers, so this was just another case of that happening.

It definitely wasn’t the case fifteen minutes later.

Jay kept getting dizzier and dizzier as time passed, leaning back on the pillar and relying on it to keep him stable. Everything around him was spinning, the low lights blurring into vague patterns and swirling around on the floor at a speed that he couldn’t comprehend. He could feel the sweat gathering on the back of his neck, hot and sticking to his shirt collar. There were nails being driven into his temples, and he winced as the crowd suddenly cheered when Cyrus Borg came out on the other side of the room to start his speech. Pixal and Zane were on the stage with him, and Jay had to keep himself from screaming as the spotlights followed the three as they walked.

Up until now, he had hesitated everytime his hand went to his comm; he had already pissed Cole off once or twice, he shouldn’t say anything unless it was an absolute emergency.

His vision blacked out for a second, and Jay was suddenly hyperaware of everything happening around him. This wasn’t normal; this was an emergency.

“Cole,” Jay said, swallowing back the spit in his mouth that threatened to spill down his lips. Why couldn’t he feel his lips? Why did his throat feel like it was clogging up with something?

Reaching up with an arm, his brother looked quite bored. “What is it now, Jay?”

“Something’s wrong.”

Jay must’ve forgotten to switch to their private channel, because Lloyd’s voice came through the tinny speaker. “Jay, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m dizzy,” Jay couldn’t keep himself from stuttering, and he started panicking as his knee gave out from under him. What the hell was in his drink?

Starting to push through the crowd, he could barely pick Cole out from the crowd, only hearing the earth ninja’s voice through his earpiece. “Jay, Jay did you drink something-”

And Jay was crashing to the floor.

Head smacking against the ground, Jay was coughing up spit, reeling from the loud gasp that surged through the crowd at the sight of one of the Ninja collapsing. Even though this was far from the first time that he had hit his head, he still found himself dizzier than before, struggling to ground himself in the forest of suit pants and dresses that he was stuck in. His hands were shaking as they tried to push him up, and he cried out as his elbows stopped working and his head hit the ground again.

Why couldn’t he feel his legs? Panic swarmed through his chest as he tried to wiggle his toes, but he couldn’t tell if it was working.

First Master, he was drugged.

“Move!” he heard two voices at once; one voice in the earpiece and the other through the ear not smushed against the tile. “Move out of the way!”

Other voices were clammering around him, and Jay would’ve yelled for them all to shut up if his tongue didn’t feel like it was a piece of cotton stuffed into his mouth. He was pretty sure he was drooling all on the floor, and he could feel the excess dribbling down his chin when rough hands pulled him upright.

There was Cole, face pinched in worry and hurriedly speaking into his comm. “I have him, he just collapsed and I don’t know why. Shut down the exits and get Borg out of here-”

Jay had to stop listening as the spotlights focused directly into his eyes, and he slammed his eyelids shut as if that were going to do anything. Cole was quick to block out the light, but the damage had been done; Jay leaned to the side and vomited, red punch spurting from his lips along with the small finger sandwiches that he had chowed down on earlier. Some of it landed on some poor patron’s shoes, and Jay opened his mouth to apologize only to upchuck more of his guts. His stomach heaved under the weight of his anxiety, feeling the voices around him change to a disgusted pitch, and the feeling of knowing that all of these strangers were seeing one of their protectors collapse and throw up like some drunkard made him flush with shame.

Something hauled him up from under the armpits, and suddenly he was on the move. Cole was taking him somewhere.

“Can’t take you anywhere without shit hitting the fan,” Cole grumbled, and Jay could feel the tears stinging at his eyes in protest. He didn’t mean for this to happen!

But was it his fault anyway? Could he have done anything to stop the man?

He was sat on some cheap chair a few hallways down, and Jay couldn’t move his arms or legs to try and readjust himself, the numbness spreading from his chest outwards. Cole pressed a warm hand to Jay’s forehead, feeling his cheeks and the back of his neck.

Jay felt so ashamed when he couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. “Cole, Cole-”

“What happened, Jay?” Cole asked, a serious expression on his face. He reached up to start thumbing away the tears. “Are you drunk? I promise you aren’t in trouble if you are, things happen.”

He shook his head as best as he could. “No, someone spiked it.”

Mouth agape, Cole clicked it shut, fury overtaking his features. “Who. The. Fuck. Spiked your drink?”

“A guy, he ran into me and must’ve put it in my punch,” Jay let out a small sob as the spinning room sped up. “I-I’m so sorry.”

“The only thing you have to be sorry for is not telling me sooner,” Cole stressed, cupping his brother’s cheek when Jay’s head lulled to the side. “First Master, is this why you were so fidgety? I knew something was wrong; I’m the one who should be saying sorry to you.”

Shaking his head, Jay felt the shame swell up even further. “It’s not your fault-”

“No, but I’m still your brother, and I should’ve checked in the moment I thought something was wrong.” Cole clicked his tongue, thumb brushing against Jay’s jaw in a way that had his heart aching. “I gotta check how bad it is, bluebell. How many fingers am I holding up?”

If Jay was being completely honest, it looked like twelve, so that’s exactly what he said. Cole’s worried face was not reassuring in the slightest.

Nya’s voice flowed into his ear, and Jay sobbed. He wanted her, he wanted her so bad. “Jay, honey, I need you to talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Some asshat spiked his drink,” Cole said briskly, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over Jay after seeing how hard the blue ninja was shaking. “He’s still conscious, but I don’t think he’s moving anytime soon. We’re in the hallway off to the left of the main room.”

Finally, the severity of the situation hit Jay: he had been drugged. Someone had deliberately sought him out and messed with his drink with ill intentions that Jay could only dream of, even though those dreams would actually be nightmares.

The thought of what could’ve happened if Cole hadn’t seen him go down made him sick to his stomach.

“I’ll be right there,” and Jay felt his lip start to wobble as the sobs rushed up his throat, because he wanted Nya here now and he was scared and he was too cold but too hot at the same time and he couldn’t move and Cole was mad at him and why was his vision tunneling and oh shit was it always this hard to breathe-

A hand tangled itself in his hair, gently freeing it from its prison of hair products as Jay gasped for air. “Stay with me, Bluejay. Nya’s on her way and then we’re getting you out of here. You’re gonna go home and we’re going to spoil you rotten, okay?”

His hands scrambled for something to hang onto, his fingertips unfeeling, and Cole was quick to put his other warm hand into Jay’s as he readjusted the makeshift blanket over Jay’s form. It wasn’t nearly as good as a shock blanket would’ve been but beggars can’t be choosers. Jay forced his body forward, landing clumsily on Cole’s chest as the earth ninja quickly compensated for the extra weight. “I want Nya.”

There was yelling from the main room that made it hard for Jay to hear what Cole was saying. “I know buddy, she’ll be here soon. I’m going to hold you just like this for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” Jay whispered, feeling the tears start to soak into his brother’s suit, and First Master he hoped it was going to be okay. 

[fluffy-lee-boa]

Squealing Santa 2k23

Of Buddies and Bros (a barbieverse tickle fic)

Fandom: Barbie (2023)

Characters: Ken and Allan

A/N: Hello @sweettallahassee! It is I, your secret santa >:3 I was so excited to get this assignment- The world could definitely use some more Barbie t fics. Especially ones with Allan. I really hope you like it! I saw the words “cheer-up tickles” and was possessed to write way more than I anticipated haha. Happy Holidays!

This was super fun, and I can’t wait to participate again, since this was my first time and now I think I’ve really got a handle on things. Thank you so much to @squealing-santa !!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It had been a good amount of time since Stereotypical Barbie had left Barbie Land altogether, with Allan having become Ken’s closest confidant and friend from there on out. It was a pretty surprising change, and one that took some getting used to, as Allan had been used to being number 3 in a world of couples. But now? Well, it was practically his job to stick by Stereotypical Ken, and help him along his journey in self-discovery. Help him find some sort of identity outside of “Beach” and Barbie.

Unfortunately, Ken was very much still attached to both Beach and Barbie, to the point that it was a real hindrance on any progress being made in that department.

Allan knew it must have been hard for the guy, so he wasn’t annoyed or frustrated. More concerned, really. I mean, even with all the changes that had come to Barbie Land, every Ken still had their Barbie. Every Ken… except for his Ken.

His Ken? Ok, that was a weird thought. Better to just ignore it and move on. Narrations could be tricky sometimes, and he of all people knew that.

But either way! He was here to help. Be a buddy, whatever that meant.

It had been another perfect, beautifully sunny day, one in which Allan had been trying and failing to get Ken out of bed. Ken had begun staying in Stereotypical Barbie’s old place, as it was vacant, and already had quite a lot of Mojo Dojo Casa House decor, including the “manly” fur coat that Ken had draped over himself as a makeshift blanket as he grumbled about being woken up.

“Ken, come on.” Allan sighed, tugging at the end of the coat lightly but firmly, “We already told Pilot Barbie we’d be ready for your skydiving lesson at noon, we can’t miss that, or it’ll throw off our whole schedule. Remember? We even had a quick stop at the beach to try surfing again…!”

Allan had been meticulously planning their days filled to the brim with activities that might lead to Ken finding his true passion. Usually Ken was pretty gung-ho about the whole thing, but today seemed to be an off day. It was probably because yesterday he’d tried acting, and instead of impressing Director Barbie with his stunning talent, he’d ended up really crying for about an hour and they weren’t able to get any good footage out of it.

So here they were, at a stalemate in Barbie’s old bedroom.

Allan considered his option, his mind cycling through possibilities. He could simply rip the fur off of him to force him up, but that sounded harsh, and Ken needed a gentle touch right now.

Wait a minute.

Gentle… touch.

That gave him an idea!

So after a second more of contemplating if the possibility of revenge was worth it, Allan made his first move. He was just lucky enough that Ken’s leg happened to be sticking out from the bed, giving him the perfect opportunity to put his plan into motion. He pushed aside any hesitation and lurched forward, putting the other’s foot in what was essentially a headlock and sitting at the end of the bed.

“Wha- HEY-!” Ken was instantly sitting up, the coat having fallen away to reveal a particularly pink set of pajamas that would have matched with Barbie perfectly had she still been around.

“Sorry, but you wouldn’t get out of bed, so…” Allan shrugged, trying to suppress a smile as he utilized a persuasive skill Barbie Land had only picked up on when they last interacted with the real world- Tickling.

It wasn’t entirely new to them, of course, but the concept of a tickle *fight* was something so novel that it had been on Allan’s mind ever since Barbie had left, and this was as good an excuse as any to start one.

“AH- AhAhAllan! You can’t-!”

“Can’t what, help my buddy cheer up?” Allan teased as he scribbled away at the little divots in between his toes, though before he could say anything further, there was a flurry of movement that was too fast for him to catch in the moment.

When Allan next opened his eyes, he found that Ken was now firmly rested on top of him, holding both his arms above his head in one hand. Curse his stereotypically large and admirable muscles- there was no escaping such a grasp.

“No… I was gonna say you can’t expect me not to fight back,” Ken replied after he’d caught his breath with a more confident smirk this time, his free hand hovering over Allan’s unfortunately unbuttoned beach top menacingly.

“Whoa! Ken, heyyy, we can talk this out!” Allan babbled the moment he realized the predicament he was in, sinking into the softness of the bed below them with a nervous, borderline awkward laugh, “I was just- trying to get you up! And you’re up now! We can go!”

“Mmm. I don’t think that’s gonna work for me,” Ken’s hand was getting dangerously close to his ribs, which made Allan start squirming without him having even touched him yet.

“In fact… You were right, buddy. This is cheering me up already,” Ken added smugly, before his gently clawed his hands back and forth over his lower ribs like he was trying to feel every gap and ridge in his rib cage.

Allan immediately burst into frantic giggles that resembled a bird of paradise making alarm calls- they were by no means graceful or dignified, but there was no arguing it, they were adorable. There was even an interspersing of snorts and yelps that kept things fresh whenever Ken wandered a little lower down to vibrate his fingertips across his barely-visible abs. Speaking of which…

“WAIT NONONONO-!”

Ken’s eyebrows raised when Allan’s protests spiked, and he realized he must be getting close to a goldmine. He kept that same goofy smile, the one he always had when he was proud of himself for figuring something out. If Allan could focus on it, he’d probably melt, but he was too busy being reduced to breathless laughter as he begged for what seemed to be his life.

But what spot exactly might be causing such a reaction?

Well, as Ken was already quite pleased with his deduction skills, he was sure he’d figured it out. So he let his hand drift farther down, lightly tracing a line with the spider-like movement of his fingers to his upper belly. Aaaand Bingo.

“KEHEN!” Allan barked, attempting to fold in on himself like a beach chair.

Ken knew this spot must be the absolute worst for him, so he was careful not to take things too far. He kept his tickles light, and almost teasing, using his perfectly manicured nails to swirls little hearts and star shapes around his belly button, “Yeah, bro?”

Allan simply shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as he dug his heels into the bed as if to dispel some of the nerves. His open-mouthed laughter hadn’t let up much despite the change of pace, and his cheeks were now a bright shade of red. So Ken, being the kind and generous person he was, decided he’d had enough.

He slowed his movement to a stop, letting go of Allan’s wrists so he could prop himself up on his elbows above him with an affectionate smile. He rested his chin on the other’s chest, which made Allan tense up with the lightest of giggles at the way his stubble scratched at his topmost ribs.

“Feeheel any behehetter?” Allan managed to ask, looking down at him with a softer smile.

Ken thought about it for a moment before he hummed, his voice smooth and deep despite the strenuous battle, “Yeah. Definitely.”

Ken moved to stand up, hands on his hips as he looked out over Barbieland from their vantage point at the end of the block. To his surprise, Allan’s giddy laughter had caught the attention of quite a few neighbors, who gave him looks that came across as almost… relieved. Truth be told, everyone had been worried for Ken for some time now, but seeing, or more hearing, him be so carefree and mischievous, it was nice to see he hadn’t changed much.

Allan had to take a few more minutes to fully recover, though eventually he sat up with a deep breath, rolling his shoulders with a smile, “Gee. Remind me not to mess with you again.”

“Or- I dunno- maybe more often…?” Ken replied, his voice bordering on shy for once, “I wasn’t lying. It really did cheer me up, broski.”

And with that, Allan knew that he didn’t have anything to worry about after all. Ken was gonna be alright, even without Barbie, and even if the journey was longer than they anticipated. They would walk down that road together, wherever it was gonna take them. That’s what buddies are for.

[wangmiao]

Two girls recognized each other. We get along.

Ju Ji Hoon & Ha Jung Woo’s friendship on BROS ON FOOT (2023) ep 1.04

#there’s no excuse not to call them babygirls

[gimmethatagustd]

cosmic collision (1) | myg + jjk

A responsible weedman, Yoongi always tests out new marijuana strains before selling them to his customers. When his supplier offers him a new strain, Cosmic Collision, Yoongi is eager to try it. What he doesn't expect is the alien that comes with it.

↳ pairing: weedman!yoongi x alien!jungkook

↳ genre: BTS | 18+ | supernatural | strangers to lovers | slow burn | crack | fluff | smut

↳ wc/date: 6.8k | april 2023

↳ warnings: marijuana | yoongi blacks out from being too high, but i promise nothing bad happens to him | jungkook is so precious you might not survive | yoongi is TRYING HIS BEST

↳ notes: welcome to this silly lil world of galactic mysteries 👽 i hope you enjoy the journey. pls keep your arms, hands, legs, feet, and head inside the spacecraft at all times

↳ main masterlist // series masterlist

↳ what was jai listening to? know yourself - drake

✨ complete this form to be added to the taglist ✨

“What’s this one called again?” As Namjoon speaks, a thick cloud of white smoke rushes out of his mouth. 

Hoseok is quick with a response, answering before Yoongi has a chance. “DJ Short Flo,” he reads the piece of masking tape stuck to the top of the glass jar on their coffee table. The name is scribbled in blue Sharpie. 

Namjoon repeats the name to himself in a low and scratchy tone. He clears his throat a few times more than is really necessary. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” 

Yoongi’s not sure the names of marijuana strains really need to mean anything, but he’s not part of the conversation. He’s too busy counting a rather fat wad of cash as he stands in the entryway of his apartment. 

Suddenly, the chill vibes playlist Namjoon so artfully crafted for the group’s weekly Friday night smoke sesh pauses. He flashes a glare at Taehyung spread out on Yoongi’s bean bag as he passes the blunt off to Hoseok, who is now making grabby hands next to him on the couch. 

“This is that nasty flow!” Taehyung belts the Drake lyrics prematurely, using his phone to switch from Namjoon’s playlist to the song that has seemingly popped into his head at the mention of Flo. 

Hoseok’s eyes widen as he lifts the blunt to his lips. He takes a drag from it while his head leans over the back of the couch. “Hey, wasn’t that Yoongi’s rapper name in college? Or was it DJ Short Glow?” 

“Top boy in this shit, I’m so international!” 

Yoongi slams his foot into his dirty red Vans. He has to bend over slightly to hook his finger in the back of the shoe to pull it out from underneath his heel. Life would be much easier if he just untied his shoes and put them on correctly. 

“It was Gloss.” 

“Reps up is in here, got P Reign and Chubby and TJ and Winnie and whoa!” Taehyung’s voice cracks as he chokes out the lyrics, and smoke simultaneously puffs out of his nose and mouth. 

“DJ Short Gloss?” Hoseok asks. 

“Yeah, and you know how that should go!” 

“Man, shut the fuck up.” Yoongi throws his middle finger up at whoever may be looking. “I’m not even short.” With his shoes on, Yoongi shrugs into a light windbreaker and stuffs the money into one of the pockets. He has to wiggle the pocket’s zipper a few times before it fully zips closed. “I’ma be back in probably two hours, okay?” 

Hoseok and Taehyung are now belting an Ariana Grande song, so only Namjoon acknowledges Yoongi’s announcement. He throws his friend a thumbs up as smoke unfurls around the blunt squeezed between his lips. 

“Have fun, bro. Tell Jin he better respond to my message on Discord. We got games to play.” 

Yoongi gives the front door a sharp kick before he yanks it open. He reminds himself to figure out how to fix it from getting stuck constantly. The paint on the bottom corner is starting to crack from the number of toes that have jammed into it. 

“Yeah, yeah. I got you, Joon.” 

Seokjin is notoriously difficult to get ahold of. Yoongi can’t text him, which is understandable, even if using other apps like Discord to communicate is annoying. It always goes back to not wanting his real phone number associated with their conversations. Yoongi never feels like pointing out that a Discord account - like literally everything else - can be traced back to Seokjin’s phone. It’s a losing battle, and Yoongi isn’t the type to argue. 

So he shoots WWHandsome#7451 a quick “omw” and drives the thirty minutes to Seokjin’s brother’s house. Or was it his cousin? Best friend? Yoongi can’t remember. All he knows is the guy is cute, and that is enough to make Yoongi not want to go to his house. 

It’s a small house tucked away in the culs-de-sac of a modest but nice-looking suburb. Yoongi always feels dirty as he parks on the curb in his 2001 Honda Accord. The car has wires sticking out where the spoiler was once connected in the back (accidentally ripped off by Taehyung, who closed the trunk too hard). The metal below his front left headlight is dented and stitched together with black zip ties after Yoongi idiotically let Namjoon drive and his friend hit a mailbox.  

The feeling of being out of place typically intensifies as Yoongi trudges up the walkway to the front door. He feels frumpy in his dad hat with a frayed bill, eccentrically-patterned pink button-up shirt over a white graphic tee, and forest-green joggers. He never cared about fashion; throwing on whatever’s clean is enough for him. But when Seokjin’s friend (Yoongi is now remembering they are just friends) flings the door open and lets his eyes roam over Yoongi’s frame, he wishes he’d at least ironed his shirt. 

“Hello,” the man purs. He brushes blue-grey hair away from eyes that are sharp and heavy as he looks up at Yoongi through his bangs. Yoongi tries not to pay attention. “Jinnie’s in the basement.” 

The basement is really just one giant gaming room with a spot off to the side dedicated to Seokjin’s rather impressive inventory of marijuana. He’s exceptionally organized, which Yoongi appreciates, with each glass jar and drawer stuffed with green buds neatly labeled. It makes the exchange quick and easy. Yoongi would prefer not to linger. 

It’s not that Seokjin has ever done anything wrong. In all honesty, Yoongi can’t quite put a name to the feeling he gets in the elder’s presence. He just knows something about Seokjin makes him uneasy. 

“Yoongi-ya, good to see you, my friend.” Seokjin’s hand clamps over Yoongi’s shoulder and his fingers dig into his clavicle. 

“Good seeing you, too,” Yoongi mumbles. He shrugs off his backpack and holds it against his chest like a shield. However, it doesn’t protect him for long because Seokjin almost immediately pries it from Yoongi’s grasp. He watches as the older man tosses the empty bag onto the coffee table in front of a large TV, making the glass rattle. 

“Sit.” 

Yoongi plops onto the couch. Halo Infinite is paused on the TV. He knows nothing about video games, but he’s sure Namjoon would squeal over Seokjin’s setup. Yoongi makes a note to never tell him about it. 

“Want your usual, right?” Seokjin asks though he’s obviously not in any rush to get Yoongi his supply when he settles beside him on the couch. He tilts his black bucket hat back, pulling the brim away from his eyes to expose dark eyebrows. 

Seokjin wears clothes similar to Yoongi’s usual attire: comfortable graphic tees and joggers. He always manages to look better, though. Sleek and expensive, with logos of brands Yoongi doesn’t even know stitched into the fabric, all monochrome rather than the patterned clothing that makes Yoongi look like a rainbow threw up on him. 

“Mhm,” Yoongi hums. “Chem Valley Kush, XJ-13, and DJ Short Flo sold really well.” 

Seokjin’s eyes crinkle as he grins. In the dim lighting of the room, Yoongi swears his teeth look sharp. “XJ-13 put your ass in gear, didn’t it?” 

This Yoongi has to smile at. “The most productive I’ve been in my life,” he laughs. “That tangerine aroma, too? Fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Seokjin reaches for the clear glass bong atop the coffee table. He brings it to his lips, pausing momentarily to say, “It’s the Jack Herer in it.” 

Yoongi watches the smoke furl through the intricately curled tubing. He’s always been more of a bowl kind of guy, but he doesn’t say no when Seokjin passes him the bong and a lime green lighter.

“I’ve got enough of all three, but try out this one.” Seokjin watches expectantly as Yoongi inhales and doesn’t continue talking until he blows a thick cloud toward the ceiling. “It’s called Cosmic Collision. Totally brand new strain, an experimental hybrid. Nobody’s got this on the street except me.” 

“Cosmic Collision?” Yoongi runs his tongue across his teeth, then the inside of his cheeks, like he’s gathering the taste in his mouth. It’s fruity and went down so smooth it almost felt more like vaping or hookah than weed. “Tastes like cereal.” 

“Good, right? Shit’ll take you somewhere otherworldly.”

Describing the strain as experimental and otherworldly is relatively accurate, Yoongi muses as he takes a few more hits from the bong. Each pull is smooth and surprisingly kind to his throat as he breathes it down. Weed like this is hard to come by on the streets. Most are harsh, perhaps from being doused in pesticides or growing in shoddy environments. Seokjin has never let Yoongi down, though. Everything he provides is always high quality, to the extent that Yoongi wonders if the man grows it himself or if he’s got the hookup with someone professional. 

Before long, Yoongi sinks into the couch and forgets his promise of returning home after two hours. His phone buzzes in his pocket with text messages he can’t seem to find the desire to check. He doesn’t hear the notifications, only feels the vibration against his thigh. The sensation warms him to the point that the way his body tingles is a little embarrassing. 

Something else buzzes in his ear, something he can hear as a muffled squeak that pulses against his eardrums. It’s rather annoying. Yoongi’s face twists into a slight grimace that quickly melts away when he feels something poke his cheek. 

“Yoongi-ya!” 

His head is almost too heavy to turn, but he manages. Seokjin’s image is blurry initially. It takes a few blinks for Yoongi to adjust, and only then does he realize his eyes have been closed for a good while. 

“Hm?” Like his head, his tongue feels heavy to lift. His mouth tastes like Froot Loops. A small smile stretches his lips against his teeth. God, he’s so fucking high. 

“Jimin and I need to leave; I’m sorry,” Seokjin gives him a sheepish look. 

Yoongi blinks a few more times and wills his arms to lift up. He stretches his back with a groan. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t realize how long it’s been.” 

His phone tells him it’s been nearly four hours since he arrived. His brain struggles to comprehend this new information, just like it struggles to accept that he has somehow migrated upstairs and is now sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of him. When the fuck had he moved? 

Seokjin gives him a knowing smile. “Drink more water when you get home. And drive safely!” 

Nodding his head, Yoongi slings his backpack over his shoulder and follows Seokjin to the front door. The bag is heavy with what Yoongi assumes is weed - the whole reason why he came to the house in the first place. But he has no recollection of Seokjin giving it to him. 

“That’s some strong shit,” Yoongi mumbles mostly to himself as he says his final goodbyes. 

There’s the knowing smile again, though Yoongi doesn’t know what Seokjin knows that he doesn’t know. “Like I said, otherworldly. Have a good night, my friend. I’ll see you around.” 

As he returns to his car, Yoongi decides that Seokjin most definitely gives him the creeps. A twinge of guilt accompanies the thought because Yoongi knows Seokjin hasn’t actually done anything to deserve such judgment, but he can’t help it. Knowing that he completely blacked out for hours with the guy sends a shiver down Yoongi’s spine. Smoking has never affected him like that before. 

The car ride home is frigid and quiet. Yoongi leans forward against the steering wheel, grasping it with both hands and straining his eyes to see into the dark. Driving while high is a skill Yoongi has perfected over many years of smoking, but tonight he finds himself struggling to stay focused. His eyes keep flicking up to check the rearview mirror. He knows this means he’s so high that paranoia starts kicking in. He usually cuts himself off before that point, but tonight got away from him. Checking for cops in the rearview mirror is one of those paranoid habits of his. At least the sense of self-preservation isn’t too ridiculous. Driving while under the influence of marijuana is illegal, after all. 

To his horror, the next time he looks into the mirror, the empty street isn’t what greets him. Instead, Yoongi stares into two large, bright eyes. 

There’s a motherfucking person in his backseat. 

“What the fuck?!” 

Yoongi stomps on the brakes. The abruptness violently lurches the guy forward, making him smack his face into the back of the passenger’s seat. 

The guy groans loudly and cups his hand over his nose. “Owww.” When he meets Yoongi’s eyes through the rearview mirror again, they’re shiny and wet. “You hurt me.” 

“Who the fuck are you?!” 

It doesn’t matter that he’s stopped in the middle of the street. Yoongi puts the car into park and twists in his seat to see the person behind him better. Any feeling of intoxication has swiftly left his body. He doesn’t think he has sobered up so quickly in his entire life. 

The guy appears to be a few years younger than Yoongi. His shaggy black hair falls into his eyes, though most of his face is obscured by the large hood of his mossy-green sweatshirt. Looking down, Yoongi sees that he’s in a pair of black basketball shorts that are inappropriate for the cool autumn weather. Tattoos of strange symbols litter his hands and creep up his arms, from what Yoongi can tell. The thought that his teeth look sharp like Seokjin’s do flashes in Yoongi’s mind, but he’s too freaked out to linger on that. Imagined sharp teeth are nothing compared to how the younger man’s eyes glow with a turquoise ring around his black irises. 

Despite the fear those eyes strike in Yoongi’s body, he can’t help but admire how beautiful the man is. Something about him feels… otherworldly, Seokjin’s voice sounds in Yoongi’s head. 

“My name is-” 

Whatever the man says is lost to Yoongi. His supposed name is nothing Yoongi has ever heard before, sounding more like strange clicks and whistles instead of a real language. 

Apparently sensing Yoongi’s confusion by his mouth hanging open, the man gives him a nervous smile. “You may call me Jungkook if that is easier for you to pronounce,” he whispers hardly loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “When I am in this realm, that is the name I go by. Elder Seokjin gave it to me.” 

Realm? Elder? 

Yoongi shakes his head while his palms press into his eyes. Maybe if he slowly counts backward from ten and focuses on his breathing, the marijuana-induced hallucination will disappear. 

Silently, he mouths the numbers until he finishes his ten seconds of attempted meditation. To his chagrin, he opens his eyes to see the strange man sitting on the edge of the backseat with his hands clasped between his thighs. He watches Yoongi in earnest. 

“I can tell that you are upset.” He speaks slowly as if he thinks Yoongi may not be able to understand him. “There was nothing else that I could do, sir. Elder Jimin and Elder Seokjin closed the portal when they left after they assumed I had returned home without them. But I was in the garden! I do not like the smell of marijuana. It hurts my head so badly. I needed to get fresh air until you left.”

The man waits rather impatiently for Yoongi to respond. He fidgets in his seat, though he keeps his eyes locked with Yoongi’s. His gaze is so intense that Yoongi has to look away. 

It’s too much. 

Before any more bullshit can spew from the guy’s mouth, Yoongi flings the door open, snatching the keys before slamming the door shut behind him. His hand shakes as he presses the button to lock the doors, leaving him standing outside and the younger man inside. 

He looks up at Yoongi through the back window with confusion. Yoongi could swear that the turquoise rings around his eyes dim. 

Turning his back to the car so he doesn’t have to look at the man anymore, Yoongi finally takes out his phone. It takes Namjoon three calls to pick up, but Yoongi can’t be mad; he’s just grateful his friend picked up at all. 

“Yoong. It’s three-thirty in the morning. Hobi said you never came home.”

There was a reason why he called Namjoon instead of his roommate. Hoseok is such a heavy sleeper, Yoongi knows it would have been pointless to try. 

“I need you to come get me. I don’t really know where I am, but there’s a guy in my car.” 

Silence on the other end of the line makes Yoongi grow antsy. He lets out a loud huff, then another to indicate the sense of urgency he needs his friend to share with him. 

“What?” 

“I’m not kidding, man. There’s some random fucking dude in the backseat of my car.” 

Yoongi takes a peek over his shoulder. The guy has crawled halfway into the front seats and is pushing the buttons on Yoongi’s radio. Probably fucking up all his saved stations. Yoongi lets out a hiss. 

“Bro, you’re tweaking.” 

“Fuck you, I’m serious.” 

“Tweeeeeaking,” Namjoon drawls. There’s a giggle in the background, the soft deepness of the sound unmistakable. 

“Give Taehyung the phone.” 

For a few seconds, Yoongi only hears more giggling and some rustling. He tries to respect his friends’ privacy and not ask why they are still together so late at night. 

Eventually, Taehyung murmurs a greeting. “Hey, boss man.” 

“Come pick me up right now. This dude is refusing to get out of my car.” 

“What if he hotwires it, and when you go back in the morning, it’s gone?” Taehyung raises a valid concern, but Yoongi isn’t in the right mind to think with common sense. 

“Then it’s fucking gone! It’s a piece of shit car anyway!” 

Taehyung gasps. “Don’t talk about Mary Jane like that!” 

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe he is tweaking. The universe must agree since he turns around to see an empty car. 

“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s voice is small and distant. 

Yoongi holds his phone a few inches away from his ear and stares at his car in disbelief. He slowly approaches it, peering into the windows to inspect the backseat. There’s nothing. 

“Uhh… nevermind. I’ll be fine. Make sure Joon drinks some water, okay?” He hangs up before Taehyung has the chance to question him further. 

With trembling hands, Yoongi unlocks the car and slides behind the wheel. Another quick look around confirms that he’s again the only person in the car. How was it possible for the other guy to get out? Yoongi knows that he locked the doors when he got out. But perhaps he unlocked them from the inside, and the alarm didn’t go off? Yoongi can’t think straight, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. His car is empty. 

It remains empty for the rest of the drive. Yoongi is on edge the entire time, but he has calmed down considerably by the time he parks on the street near his apartment.

However, Yoongi doesn’t feel true security until he’s in bed, after showering away the smell of weed and the tingling feeling of his skin. The marijuana is put away, although he hides Cosmic Collision in his closet. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him to keep the odd strain to himself for now. 

With how droopy the weed made him and the stress of the ride home, Yoongi quickly falls asleep to his Pink Noise playlist and tries not to dream of turquoise-ringed eyes. 

Yoongi loves autumn Saturday mornings. He loves snuggling into his blankets while the sun gently kisses his skin. He loves tilting his head to see red and gold leaves glowing in the sunlight outside his window. He loves knowing there’s nothing that needs to be done, that he has a day to slowly move through the kitchen in his pajamas with a cup of coffee and a blunt with nowhere he needs to be. He loves gentle days. 

Today, he does not have the pleasure of enjoying a gentle day. 

Rather than the sun waking him, it’s his roommate. Hoseok squeezes Yoongi’s shoulders a bit too tightly as he shakes the older man awake. 

“Yoongi,” he whisper-yells. “Yoongi, you didn’t tell me you had someone over. He’s really fucking hot, I get it, but you have to tell me! I just walked out of my bedroom naked, which I should be able to do since it’s my apartment, and I knew you wouldn’t be up yet, and surprise! Some gorgeous man is sitting on the couch, eating my chocolate chip cookies, by the way, staring at my dick! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!” 

With squinted eyes and a scrunched nose, Yoongi stares up at Hoseok. To be perfectly honest, all he heard was hot, naked, cookies, dick. Which… Is not what one expects to talk about before their eyes have even adjusted to the daylight. 

“Wha-what, Hoba, what?” Yoongi forces himself into a sitting position. 

Hoseok flaps his arms at his side and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Your hookup is still here. And he saw me naked. And he’s eating my food. That is what I’m trying to tell you.” 

“My hookup?” 

“Yes, fuck. He’s really sexy in an adorable kind of way. I was shocked. Not really your usual type, but an improvement, honestly,” Hoseok rambles.  

Ignoring the subtle dig at his taste in men, Yoongi tries to focus on the meaning behind his roommate’s words. He is no stranger to casual sex but seldom brings people over out of respect for Hoseok. It’s a situation precisely like this that he tries to avoid. 

“But I came home straight from Jin’s… Didn’t I?” Yoongi wracks his brain, desperately searching for some kind of missing link. “I swear on my life, Hoba. I swear on my life I went to Seokjin’s and came straight home. You can ask Joon and Tae. I called them after I left because-” 

Hoseok leaps back as Yoongi rips the blankets off of his body. “Fuck!” He flies out of his bedroom, feet barely touching the ground. 

He’s breathing hard when he bursts into the living room. 

The man from the night before - Jungkook - is cuddled up on the couch. He’s wearing the same outfit, though his hood is lowered now. Yoongi can see just how disarmingly beautiful the man is without the fabric obstructing his view. His face is round with flawless skin that practically glows in the daylight. His bangs are sticking out in all directions, hair mused in what Yoongi assumes is bedhead. Yoongi can’t help but find him kind of adorable, especially when his cheeks are puffy from stuffing so many chocolate chip cookies in his mouth. 

Except he shouldn’t be fucking real! Or in his apartment!

As Yoongi steps closer, he notices the turquoise rings around Jungkook’s irises. Fear that Yoongi can only describe as primal tickles the base of his spine. It’s impossible to stamp down, no matter how many deep breaths he takes. 

“You.” He points an accusatory finger. “You.” 

Not his most intelligent moment, but his brain doesn’t know how to function anymore. A cookie-covered smile makes Yoongi falter, but he does his best to maintain a stern expression. 

“Good morning, Yoongi! Your apartment is kind of dirty, but it feels cozy. I like it.” Jungkook places the now empty container of cookies on the coffee table. The action draws Yoongi’s attention to the stack of other empty food containers, beer bottles, weed residue, and game controllers littering the table’s surface. Maybe he is dirty. 

Nah, fuck that. This is not what’s important right now. 

Yoongi shakes his head, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Why are you here? How did you get here?” 

Hoseok makes an odd sound that Yoongi desperately tries to ignore. But then he feels the press of a warm hand against the nape of his neck, and he can’t brush him off from how tightly Hoseok is digging into his skin. 

“Yoongi…” He sounds like he’s about to scold him. 

Before he can start, Jungkook hops up from the couch. Both strangely-tattooed hands lift upward, about chest-high, and he twists them to hold his palms out. 

“It is my fault, Mr. Hoseok.” 

“Just Hobi.” 

Jungkook nods. “I did not explain the situation well. Elder Jimin and Elder Seokjin told me never to speak to humans about this, but I don’t know what else to do. No one else from our team is here, and they must wait until the next cosmic collision for the portal to reopen.” 

His voice trembles as he speaks, and Yoongi worries the guy is about to start crying. He tugs at the many hoops adorning his earlobe and rocks on the balls of his feet, much like children do to comfort themselves. 

Maybe he’s a dick, but Yoongi would prefer not to deal with a stranger crying in the middle of his living room. 

“Cosmic collision? Like the weed?” He understands all the individual words Jungkook uses, but none of them in how he has strung them together. 

The man bites his lip. His teeth wiggle as they dig into the pink flesh. At night they had appeared sharp, but in the daylight, they are blunt and almost too big for his face. 

“Not the weed,” he says without further explanation. 

Hoseok’s grip on Yoongi’s neck tightens until he turns to look at him. Human? He mouths not so subtly. 

Yoongi shakes his head. Nothing about any of this makes sense. With a sigh, he runs his hands down his face and grimaces at how oily his skin feels. 

“Look,” he starts, furrowing his eyebrows in Jungkook’s direction. “I’m gonna take a shower. And then I’m gonna drink a cup of coffee. By that point, I expect you to have called Jin or Jimin, fuck, I don’t care who, to take you home. Okay?” 

Jungkook opens his mouth, likely to protest, but Yoongi tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nope. I said what I said.” 

“Yoongi-ya,” Hoseok protests on behalf of the bewildered man. He follows Yoongi back into his bedroom, awkwardly wringing his hands as he watches him look for clean clothes to wear. “He seems genuine…” 

“Genuine?” Yoongi scoffs. 

Hoseok shoots him a glare. “Yes.” 

“Did you not hear him, Hoba? Humans? Cosmic collisions? Portals? Last night he said he goes by ‘Jungkook’ when he’s in this realm and made some weird ass clicking sounds like The Predator, like that was supposed to be his fucking name.” 

“Okay… that is a bit strange… But I think you’re being harsh. Clearly, the guy is confused, and if he’s a friend of Jin, I think you should be nicer to him.” 

“Jin gives me the creeps, too.” 

“Yoongi!” Hoseok untangles his fingers to wave them around. “Just, just take your shower. I will get all of us coffee, and we will sort this out.” 

They do not sort this out. 

While Yoongi showered, Hoseok probed Jungkook a bit further. It was all more or less the same, though. Utter nonsense. 

He discovered that Jungkook didn’t know what coffee was, didn’t seem to understand why Hoseok had initially been upset that he’d seen him naked because “nudity is the natural state of all humans,” and seemed shocked that Hoseok could “alter” his features - pointing at the deep orange he had recently dyed his hair. As if to explain his thought process about the hair observation, Hoseok watched with thinly-veiled horror as Jungkook’s hair turned a deep purple right before his eyes. 

Needless to say, as Yoongi inches his way into the kitchen after a shower that should have been refreshing but only left him feeling cold, he does not expect to see Hoseok leaning across the kitchen table to stare unblinking at their odd guest. Their odd guest whose previously-dark hair is an icy blue. 

“Umm?” 

Hoseok lifts his eyes to Yoongi. They’re bright and full of wonder, so shiny Yoongi worries he might be on the verge of tears. Out of sadness or something else, he’s not sure. 

“He’s magic.” 

Jungkook giggles at Hoseok’s declaration. However, one look at Yoongi’s narrowed eyes makes him clap his hand over his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” 

“He can change his hair color. And his eyes! See, look. Show him, Jungkookie.” 

Jungkookie? In the time it took Yoongi to shower, they’d gotten on nickname-level? 

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Yoongi forgets about his previous threat to kick Jungkook out. Instead, he sits at the table, lets the mug warm his hands, and tries to tell himself that the wave of heat burning down his body is from the coffee and not the intensity of Jungkook’s stare. 

A stare that glows brighter the longer Yoongi looks at him until he watches the turquoise rings turn a deep pink. When Yoongi finally pulls his gaze from his eyes, he sees that Jungkook’s hair compliments his new eyes. 

“What in the actual fuck?” 

“I can change other parts of my body, too!” Jungkook beams. He shakes his head, and his hair returns to its original black. His eyes’ turquoise rings replace the pink. “It takes a lot of energy to change big things, like my facial structure. Hair and eyes are the easiest. I made myself taller when I first got to Earth, though. I like being tall.” 

Yoongi slumps in his seat. If Hoseok wasn’t here witnessing this, he would assume that the weed Seokjin gave him was fucking with him harder than he could have imagined. But Hoseok is entirely sober and untainted by Cosmic Collision. 

That means only one thing. 

This shit is real. Whatever the fuck this is.

“Where were you before you came to Earth?” Hoseok is too willing to go along with this. But, on the other hand, Yoongi feels like everyone is playing a game he doesn’t know the rules to. 

Jungkook’s nervous lip-biting returns, but he seems to push through his feelings. “Our planet is called Zephipra.” He shoots a quick look at Yoongi. “It is further into the universe than you humans have visited. Your scientists do not know about us.” 

“So you’re an alien?” It comes out like a challenge without Yoongi meaning for it to. He feels a tiny bit bad when Jungkook deflates, closing in on himself as he draws his shoulders inward. 

“We don’t like that term.” 

Hoseok reaches an arm across the table. He flips his palm upward as though offering it to Jungkook to hold. 

“What is a better term for you?” he asks softly, and Yoongi envies his roommate’s ability to be unconditionally kind. 

It takes a few minutes of silence before Jungkook hesitantly squeezes Hoseok’s hand. 

“I suppose extraterrestrial, but my people are called Zephi. That is also the language we speak.”

The gulp of coffee Yoongi takes is scalding. He should have waited for it to cool, knows this means his tastebuds and throat are burnt to shit and nothing will taste good for days. But he needs something to do as Jungkook rambles on about the history of aliens like this is all real.  

Hoseok hums along, asking a few follow-up questions when something Jungkook says confuses him. Yoongi finds it all confusing, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“So,” Hoseok claps his hands together and startles Yoongi out of his thoughts. “You said you’re stuck here until some kind of space phenomenon happens?” 

Jungkook nods. 

“And there’s absolutely no other way to get home?” 

Another nod.

“Hmm…” 

Yoongi accidentally catches Jungkook’s eyes once again. He knows his cheeks burn, but he doesn’t understand why. The heat only dissipates once Jungkook averts his gaze. 

“How long does it take, usually?” 

Jungkook draws the coffee Hoseok fixed for him closer. He peers down at the dark liquid and gives the light steam radiating off the surface a few sniffs. Yoongi doesn’t want to find how he scrunches his nose adorable, but he can’t stop the thoughts once they start. 

“Hmm, usually a few weeks.” He looks at Yoongi again, and Yoongi really wishes he’d stop doing that. “Sometimes a month or two, right?” 

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs. “How would I know?” 

“Well, how often do you purchase marijuana from Elder Seokjin?” When Yoongi doesn’t respond, Jungkook sighs. It’s the first time he looks genuinely upset. “I have never been here alone.” 

By the time what Jungkook has said clicks in Yoongi’s head, he and Hoseok have migrated back to the living room. Yoongi scrambles after them as he pulls up Discord on his phone. No new messages from WWHandsome#7451. 

Scrolling through their history, he finds that there is a pattern to how often Yoongi buys from him. Once he sorts through stoner memes and news articles about the legalization of marijuana at the federal level, he can see that each conversation about picking up a new order occurs around every four to five weeks. Yoongi rarely initiates the conversation; he doesn’t have to. Seokjin will let him know he has a new supply, and Yoongi suddenly realizes that, yeah, he’s almost out. He mentally joked with himself about how astute Seokjin is, that he must have some sort of supernatural sense to know when Yoongi is running low. 

Now Yoongi wonders if there’s more to it than that.  

“Are you not supposed to be here on your own?” Hoseok drapes a blanket around Jungkook’s shoulders and tucks him into the corner of the couch where the cushions are the comfiest. With Jungkook taken care of, he flops onto the couch beside him, leaving Yoongi room on the opposite end. 

Although Yoongi considers himself to be a pretty reliable guy, Hoseok’s ability to take control of an emotionally-charged situation is Yoongi’s saving grace. Unfortunately, he’s not the best when it comes to emotional shit.  

Jungkook tugs at his earrings once again. His other hand curls into a fist he repeatedly hits on the top of his thigh. It’s not hard or aggressive, but it’s distracting. 

“No. I am an… intern? I believe that is the correct term. Only researchers are allowed on Earth alone. Interns must stay with their research mentor. Mine is Elder Seokjin.”

Hoseok lets out an understanding hum. He peeks at Yoongi out of the corner of his eye, but Yoongi doesn’t think he gives Hoseok much to go off of. Yoongi still has no idea what to think about all this; his brain won’t let him. 

The three men are silent for what feels like forever. The air is full of tension, although Yoongi wonders if he’s the only one who notices it. Jungkook simply looks worried, his fist still thumping against his thigh and his fingers playing with his earrings. Hosoek is almost completely relaxed. Yoongi knows his roommate well enough to tell from how his shoulders sag, and that he’s reaching for the pre-rolls and lighter resting on the coffee table. 

“Is this the 93 Boyz?” 

Yoongi shakes his head, amazed that his friend can casually light up a joint as if this is just a normal day. “Chem Valley Kush.” 

“Nice,” Hoseok speaks out of the corner of his mouth before inhaling as he brings the lighter to the tip of the joint. 

Jungkook makes a small noise, perhaps a cough, when Hoseok exhales. His cute little nose wrinkles up, and Yoongi remembers that he doesn’t like the smell of weed. 

“Want some, kiddo?” Hoseok hands the joint to Jungkook, who hesitantly pinches it between his fingers like a snake ready to lunge at him. 

With furrowed eyebrows, he brings the joint to his lips and sucks in the smoke. Yoongi averts his eyes when Jungkook looks up at him through his lashes, cheeks pink and hollowed. There’s something about the guy that makes Yoongi’s skin crawl. 

Despite his dislike of the smell of weed, Jungkook takes a few hits of the joint like a champ, only coughing once, and even then, the sound was dainty and soft. 

Yoongi accepts the joint from Hoseok when Jungkook passes it over. He tries not to think about how Jungkook’s lips had just wrapped around the end of the joint, the same place Yoongi is about to put his lips. He keeps the hit quick and deep, passing it on to Hoseok before he’s barely inhaled fresh air to push the smoke further into his lungs. 

Only after Hoseok starts the second round of the rotation does he say, “Well, you’ll just have to stay here until the collision or whatever happens.” 

Yoongi’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach while a blinding smile blooms across Jungkook’s face. “Whoa, wait a second. Why can’t he go back to their house?” 

“We can’t leave him alone!” Hoseok chastizes him as though this is the most obvious solution to their dilemma. 

“Hoba, where is he going to sleep?” 

“Your room.” 

Yoongi scoffs. If it’s Hoseok’s bright idea, it should be him giving up his bedroom. “Then where am I sleeping?” 

“The couch.” Hoseok shrugs and passes the joint to a still-hesitant Jungkook. “Or with him, if you’re gonna be a little bitch about the couch. Do you care, Jungkookie?” 

Jungkook inhales too deeply and sputters a rough “No, of course not” in between coughs that sound painful. 

There’s no way in fuck Yoongi’s going to sleep in the same bed as an alien. “Do ali- I mean, Zephi, even need to sleep?” 

Smoke rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils. The rigid set of his jaw makes him look older and more angular. The masculine aggression of it makes Yoongi’s stomach twist - which he ignores. 

“Yes,” Jungkook hisses. “We are not freaks.”

“No one said you were, kiddo.” Hoseok lightly flicks Jungkook under the chin before shoving the joint in Yoongi’s face with a grimace. “You, behave.” 

With that, Hoseok rises from the couch. He places his hands on his hips and looks between the two men. Yoongi hates when he gets like this, calculating. Usually, whatever that over-imaginative brain cooks up is never good for Yoongi. 

“Is there anything at your house you need while you stay with us?” Hoseok asks with his head tilted to the side as he examines Jungkook. 

The alien - Zephi - chews on his bottom lip. His cheeks are still pink, as are his eyes. Except this time, it’s from being high rather than being some supernatural oddity. 

“They took all my things when they returned home,” Jungkook admits after a long pause. He stares at his hands in his lap, lacing and unlacing his fingers to the point that Yoongi wants to grab his wrists and force them to his sides. “I don’t require much, though. I do not want to be a bother.” 

At that, he steals a shy glance at Yoongi. Yoongi feels heat spread over his cheeks, so he opts to look at Hoseok instead. Which is a mistake because his roommate is glowering at him. 

“Jungkookie, no matter how much of a dick Yoongi is, I promise you are not a bother,” he speaks to Jungkook but keeps his eyes on Yoongi. 

“I’mnotadick,” Yoongi grumbles. He folds his arms against his chest and stares at his reflection in the TV. It’s not a clear reflection, but it’s enough to tell that his hair is, rather unfortunately, sticking straight up on his head. 

“Anyway, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes. I tend to wear them baggy, so they should fit you fine. I have to go to work soon - I’m a hairstylist. Fucked up, working on the weekends, right? Ahh, but anyway, you can stay with Yoongi.” 

Jungkook merely nods with bright, round eyes gazing up at Hoseok as though the man is divulging his most remarkable secrets. 

“And if he’s mean to you, you can, I don’t know, shoot him with lasers out of your eyes or whatever scary things you’re capable of.”

“Oh, I would never do that,” Jungkook quickly disagrees, turning those beautiful eyes to Yoongi. 

“You can do that?” 

“Yes, but I promise I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

Yoongi throws his head back against the couch and groans. His body starts to slip down the cushions, but he does nothing to stop himself from falling onto the floor. 

“You cannot leave me with him, Hoba.” 

“Oh, hush.” Hoseok swats the back of Yoongi’s head as he makes his way to his bedroom to get ready. “You’ll be besties in no time.” 

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

[toastinthegrass]

We can get more money tomorrow. Then we will buy salami.

[faterpresources]

Sᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-Mᴀɴ : Aᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜᴇ Sᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-Vᴇʀsᴇ (2023) - Pᴀʀᴛ 2

A collection of random lines compiled from the Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) Feel free to change the pronouns in order to better suit the parts involved.

❝ Kid's an anarchist. ❞

❝ Oh, what the heck? ❞

❝ Wanna see pictures? ❞

❝ "Chai" means tea, bro! ❞

❝ You're saying "tea tea!" ❞

❝ Would I ask you for a "coffee coffee"? ❞

❝ Yeah, actually, stop talking. ❞

❝ I don't see anything, boss. ❞

❝ This guy/girl is killing me. ❞

❝ You're welcome. Shut up. ❞

❝ You never made a mistake? ❞

❝ Why don't you have 8 arms? ❞

❝ I don't believe in consistency. ❞

❝ Neither was I! I'm in the zone! ❞

❝ It's a metaphor for capitalism. ❞

❝ You disrupted a canon event. ❞

❝ Do you wanna hold my baby? ❞

❝ Oh, I thought you hated labels. ❞

❝ I told you he/she was a liability! ❞

❝ This is what I love about heists! ❞

❝ Can you not talk for a second? ❞

❝ Did you go see your little friend? ❞

❝ Wanna go easy on the penguin? ❞

❝ You're not supposed to be here! ❞

❝ Baby... you're really not helping. ❞

❝ I was gonna try and ignore you. ❞

❝ Yeah, and how did that work out? ❞

❝ Look, I know I messed up, okay?! ❞

❝ How many sweaters do you have? ❞

❝ Why does the horse need a mask? ❞

❝ I don't always like what I have to do. ❞

❝ Of course I'm right. I'm always right. ❞

❝ I've given up too much to stop now. ❞

❝ No, no, no! I did not mean it like that! ❞

❝ Oh, I'm very good at reading people. ❞

❝ That's a sports metaphor, by the way. ❞

❝ This romantic tension is so palpable! ❞

❝ You can't ask me not to save my ___. ❞

❝ Could this day get any damn weirder?! ❞

❝ How can you guys even concentrate? ❞

❝ Do you know how bad this is for you? ❞

❝ I'm coming up to get you! Here I come! ❞

❝ You weren't expecting that, were you? ❞

❝ I promise I will not let you down again. ❞

❝ I always taught you to do it by the book. ❞

❝ I'll do it, but not because you told me to. ❞

❝ I didn't know they made those for adults. ❞

❝ We are supposed to be the good guys. ❞

❝ Cuz I think it's gonna change our vibe. ❞

❝ Running is the least crazy thing going on! ❞

❝ What are you talking about? I'm helping- ❞

❝ He/She just wants to be taken seriously. ❞

❝ I have never seen him/her so emotional! ❞

❝ You blew another hole in the multiverse! ❞

❝ I know you know I've been lying to you.  ❞

❝ I had a nightmare about that once. But no! ❞

❝ Why do you wanna be a part of this stuff? ❞

❝ I don't follow orders. Neither does he/she. ❞

❝ I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. ❞

❝ We all want to live the life we wish we had. ❞

❝ You gotta promise nothing's gonna change. ❞

❝ Look, he/she's just some villain of the week! ❞

❝ I'm not following what's happening right now. ❞

❝ Man, what does it look like I'm trying to do?! ❞

❝ You got an hour to fix this, or I can't help you. ❞

❝ Wait! You don't know what you're doing, man! ❞

❝ Actually, we need you here, for some reason. ❞

❝ Stop pretending you know what you're doing! ❞

❝ How much trouble could he/she get in tonight? ❞

❝ You realize how messed up that sounds, right? ❞

❝ And this is where the British stole all of our stuff! ❞

❝ Are you talking to him/her, or me? Or... him/her? ❞

❝ Bit of advice: use the palm, not just your fingers. ❞

❝ How many missions have you been on together? ❞

❝ What am I supposed to do? Just let him/her die?! ❞

❝ Taking a crap on the establishment. I salute you. ❞

❝ You're both equally terrible. Does that settle it? ❞

❝ I don't even know what the right thing is, anymore. ❞

❝ I'm not a role model. I was briefly a runway model. ❞

❝ Oooh, you weren't invited, and you came anyway? ❞

❝ I'm trying to hold a serious adult conversation, here. ❞

❝ Do I, uhh... have web on my face? What's the deal? ❞

❝ You and me are finally gonna live up to our potential. ❞

❝ You let him/her leave, he/she'll only do more damage. ❞

❝ I'm about to be so much more than a villain of the week. ❞

❝ You made me feel empty, like I had a hole inside of me! ❞

❝ I'll make you pay for everything you took away from me. ❞

❝ I wouldn't call it a mess. More like a... success in progress. ❞

❝ Everyone keeps telling me how my story is supposed to go. ❞

❝ If I hadn't said it before, by the way, you're a terrible mentor. ❞

❝ Come on, go easy on the kid. He/She had a terrible teacher! ❞

❝ Please, hold your questions until I'm done breaking this thing! ❞

❝ Is this where... like, you dress up like your favorite character? ❞

❝ Where's the... the bad/girl guy you were supposed to monitor? ❞

❝ I just saw where you went, and went there without you knowing. ❞

❝ Ha! I knew I was gonna regret making him/her that web shooter. ❞

❝ It's because I thought if you knew you wouldn't love me the same. ❞

❝ This should work! Or vaporize me and everything in this building. ❞

❝ Do... do you want us to do something, or do we just stand here? ❞

❝ You don't get to have a heartfelt conversation with me right now! ❞

❝ I just need enough to get me somewhere with a full-sized collider. ❞

❝ Since I leveled up my game, I'm on a journey of self-improvement! ❞

❝ I can do all these things, but I can't help the people I love the most. ❞

❝ The hardest thing about this job is you can't always save everybody. ❞

❝ Hey, you! Could you please deactivate this wonderfully strong barrier? ❞

❝ You have a choice between saving one person and saving an entire world. ❞

❝ Don't be afraid of my friend ___,he/she just looks scary. He/She's got no bite. ❞

❝ Look bad things are gonna happen. It makes us who we are.But good things happen too, you know? ❞

❝ I hate labels, I'm not a hero, 'cuz calling yourself a "hero" makes you a self-mythologizing, narcissistic autocrat. ❞

[superchat]

why is ZZZ making ppl cope so hard? for the longest time ppl would say stuff like "youd think a gacha company could actually bother to make a game thats fun. but that would cost money and gacha companies are too cheap to put in the effort"

ZZZ comes out and its fun, so far, and people start lamenting really hard about it

"you cant tell me this game is fun WHY BROO NOOO"

like you can admit ZZZ is a pretty high quality game (and a real game lol) and give it props for actually making something fun if you meant it when you said "gacha gameplay sucks"

"when will mihoyo realize they could be so much more successful by releasing a standalone $60 game??" yeah bro like.

im def sure mihoyo would be making double what they did in 2023 if genshin and HSR were $60 games with a few $40 expansion packs,

like idk, its good to hate on gacha and remind ppl that its predatory and leans more into satisfying the corporation and less into satisfying the consumer, but you gotta like. make sense with it.

the art of being a hater is either thinking through these things a lot and being able to hold your ground in an argument, or not giving a shit and just saying "i hate it and it sucks, there is nothing more to it" but you gotta commit to one or the other, when you start half-footing it in both directions you just become a reactionary hater which is bad

[dylan-rodrigues]

ep. 5

This poor browbeaten manager. The puppy sound effects are appropriate.

If you think about it, I guess Ri-ta really is Do-ha's toxic ex, so manager puppy man isn’t wrong.

Of course it's a 19th life reincarnation. 2023 is the year of people living their 19th lives.

"when will my husband come back the war" but he's not your husband (yet?) but the guy you've sworn to kill and kinda falling for

Nothing says romance like keeping your girl alive thru lotus seeds and laboured metaphors

What is the lawyer man cooking ‼️⁉️🔥🔥🗣️🗣️

Younghwa is a genuinely nice person. Look at her shooting her career in the foot so a terminally ill man can go in peace.

Oof she patientzoned him. can’t tell if that’s worse than Soon-deuk son-zoning Rowoon.

That has to be the dumbest criminal... Imagine writing a suicide note and giving it to the guy trying to get rid of the evidence (you are the evidence)

No, not Sigmund Freud 😭😭 Who knew the Freudster would help a 1500yo toxic couple have a classic kdrama romantic moment (the Big Sig would have a field day with these two frfr. He would have diagnosed Do-ha with daddy issues and Young-hwa with hysteria)

That cannot be the same lady who's the dignified eldest daughter of Scholar Maeng 😭😭 I love this actress tho, she ate

Not manager tryna be a wingman, god he's so wholesome… bro is tryna hook up the ghost who threatens him 24/7

I could watch Doha prove all the Jun-oh haters wrong all day long

Im sorry, ghost Doha stalking child Young-hwa looks so goofy. Bro looks like a clothes hanger with a hanbok strung on it.

As for Do-ha not being able to beat the 1500 ghost allegations and now Young-hwa finding out about… I am seated and ready for the next episode. This drama has such a chokehold on me.

[nothingnothingaaa]

Every Actor Who’s Played Batman, Ranked from Worst to Best

By Insider, June 16 2023

10. GEORGE CLOONEY - BATMAN & ROBIN (1997); THE FLASH (2023)

George Clooney in "Batman & Robin." Warner Bros.

Still trying to find his footing post-"ER," Clooney was jumping back and forth between romantic comedies and action movies when he took the Batman role after Val Kilmer was one-and-done in "Batman Forever." It turned out to be a disaster. Fans were exhausted by director Joel Schumacher's colorful aesthetic and the cartoonish villains played by Arnold Schwarzenegger (Mr. Freeze) and Uma Thurman (Poison Ivy) fell flat. Plus, Clooney's Batman was too jokey turning the gruff Dark Knight into someone playful and soft. Back in 2013, Clooney said that he keeps a photo of himself as Batman to remind him how bad of a decision that was. However, the Oscar-winner had a little fun with his superhero status for "The Flash" as he appears as Bruce Wayne at the end of the movie, indicating that Barry Allen isn't in his universe.

9. LEWIS G. WILSON - THE BATMAN TV SHOW (1943)

Lewis G. Wilson in "The Batman" TV show. Columbia Pictures

Wilson has the distinction of being the first actor to play Batman starring in the 1943 series. Though he had the comics as a reference point, Wilson was still at a disadvantage being the first to put on the tights. He holds his own, but it's certainly not a performance that is memorable. Just take a look at him in the role.

8. ROBERT LOWERY - BATMAN AND ROBIN TV SHOW (1949)

Robert Lowery in the "Batman & Robin" TV show. Columbia Pictures

The second effort at a Batman TV series led to the casting of a bigger actor to play Batman. Lowery's physique and the show's better fight scenes make for a more enjoyable experience.

7. WILL ARNETT - THE LEGO MOVIE (2014); THE LEGO BATMAN MOVIE (2017); THE LEGO MOVIE 2: THE SECOND PART (2019)

Will Arnett voices Lego Batman. Warner Bros. Animation

It's tough to say whether Arnett has it easier or tougher having to do only a Batman voice to play the Lego version, but it's entertaining regardless. He voiced the character perfectly in "The Lego Movie," "The Lego Batman Movie," and "The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part."

6. BEN AFFLECK - BATMAN V SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE (2016); SUICIDE SQUAD (2016); JUSTICE LEAGUE (2017); ZACK SNYDER'S JUSTICE LEAGUE (2021); THE FLASH (2023)

Ben Affleck in "Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice." Warner Bros.

Most of the actors on this list had to deal with scrutiny when they agreed to take the Batman role. But you could arguably say Ben Affleck has had it the worst. Dealing with the social media hate that comes with being a superstar in today's world, Affleck had the cards stacked against him as soon as he was cast in "Batman v Superman." But he did well playing the character as brooding and past-his-prime.

5. VAL KILMER - BATMAN FOREVER (1995)

Val Kilmer in "Batman Forever." Warner Bros.

Having to replace Michael Keaton after he dropped out of making a third Batman movie, Kilmer came in with a smoother style, and audiences enjoyed it. The movie made more than "Batman Returns." It would have been interesting to see what would have happened if Kilmer had stayed on for another movie.

4. ADAM WEST - BATMAN TV SHOW (1966); THE FLASH (2023)

Adam West in the "Batman" TV show. 20th Century Fox

Love it or hate it, West's Batman portrayal is singular and permanently imprinted on many brains. He's the first image many of us have of the character (he's even Christian Bale's favorite Batman). West gave the character a squeaky-clean persona that was perfect for the kid-friendly show. The only knock on him: His fighting abilities were less than desired.

3. ROBERT PATTINSON - THE BATMAN (2022)

Robert Pattinson in "The Batman." Warner Bros.

Pattinson's Batman is still very rough around the edges as we focus on the character in his second year as Gotham's Dark Knight. And that's what makes it so appealing as instead of watching Bruce Wayne in his prime as a superhero here he's using his raw talent and desire to make Gotham better to get through every night.  Also, Pattinson plays the character with such darkness and fury you can't take your eyes off of him.

2. CHRISTIAN BALE - BATMAN BEGINS (2005); THE DARK KNIGHT (2008); THE DARK KNIGHT RISES (2012)

Christian Bale in "Batman Begins." Warner Bros.

Bale's acting chops and dedication to the characters he takes on are unquestioned, and he certainly delivered in the three times he played the character. The argument could be made that you could never understand Bale when he spoke as Batman or that he was helped heavily by the creative force that is director Christopher Nolan. Regardless, Bale brought an intensity to the character that had never been seen before. 

1. MICHAEL KEATON - BATMAN (1989); BATMAN RETURNS (1992); THE FLASH (2023)

Michael Keaton in "Batman." Warner Bros.

The casting of Keaton is definitely up there as one of the biggest gambles a studio has ever made. Known best for his comedic work, Keaton faced a near-universal fan backlash when announced for the 1989 film. But Keaton proved everyone wrong, and along with director Tim Burton brought legitimacy back to a franchise that was on life support by then. Playing the character as dark and mysterious, yet still capable of a wry laugh, Keaton paved the way for how Batman would be seen for the decades to come. And decades later he reprised his role for "The Flash," once more proved he's the best Dark Knight as he's a major highlight of the movie. Keaton is so confident in his performance in the role that he can say, "I'm Batman." And you know what? We think he's right.

HONORABLE MENTION: WE CAN'T LEAVE OUT KEVIN CONROY

Kevin Conroy is the voice of the animated Batman. Warner Bros.

Though numerous actors have voiced Batman, there's one who stands out. Kevin Conroy has basically become "the voice" of the Dark Knight, doing the character for "Batman: The Animated Series" in the early 1990s and almost everything else related to Batman in animation and video games until his death in 2022. All hail to the G.O.A.T.!