#but I will never forgive disney for ruining ever after high

[rainypaperangel]

I had so much fun re-making the wardrobe for the new Monster High Movie that I decided to make on for Ever After High too - y'know, if Disney wouldn't sue every last penny out of Mattel if they did that (despite Descendants being a rip-off)...

I made this on the base of Ever After being in a more modern setting rather than the fused modern-fairy tale of the show, because... I'm not a costume designer xD

Raven Queen

I love Raven's original design, but I don't think the skirt would translate well into live-action. I chose purple leather pants instead and gave her a leather jacket - if it had winged beading down the sleeves, it would be *chef's kiss*!

The chain at the top right is a hip chain, I think that'd look really good with the pants (who I'd like to be high waisted) and the shirt (which took me forever to find!). I liked the dramatic boots and the almost Victorian necklace, I think it merges edgy and vintage really well!

For the hair, I wanted a more transitional color rather than the stripes - because that's how we get Descendants wigs. Do you want more Descendants wigs?? Didn't think so...

Apple White

This is probably my favourite of them all! I made Apple more preppy, like the overly-cheery class president she actually is. Her style is practical, sweet, and high class - I especially love the bow for her neck, I think it'd look adorable with a puff-sleeved white shirt! All in all, I just really like this outfit, I think it'd be a great way to transition her into live-action!

Maddie Hatter

For Maddie, I went in a more bubble-gym style. I did consider Lolita, but that seemed almost too sweet and matching for the daughter of the mad hatter - also, it gave me too much Alice vibes...

I tried to keep the base colours, but I also simplified them. I think Maddie in her cartoon outfit would look way too cartoony in a real setting, instead of quirky and odd. I'd like this to be her "bade outfit", and then I'd let a costume designer and the actress loose in a thrift shop to weird-ify it as much as possible!

Briar Beauty

I made Briar's outfit a bit more Victorian-inspired than her real one, because this is the outfit I think would look the worst in a live-action movie. A short, rose-patterned skirt and a laced crop top would suit her so well!

I gave her flats so she can run to all the parties she wants, and her hair is a lot more blended, though noticeably pink. IDK, I really like this outfit, though I think she'd look awesome with some rose-patterned pants too!

I liked the idea of the glasses being prescription and not sunglasses. I also think she'd kind of hat her tiara, seeing it as a sign of the inevitable...

Cerise Hood

Cerise is one of my favourite characters, if not the favourite. I liked her edgy cartoon-look, but I wanted to make it even more grunge and rough.

A hooded leather jacket (of course) and some big, baggy, ripped jeans would be such a cool look on her! The flat boots would be easier to run in, and I really like the idea of her with shorter, more manageable hair. Also, chains. Because of course.

Ashlynn Ella

Surprisingly, this was the easiest look to make! I think Ashlynn would be so pretty in a simple, blue floral dress with a pink cardigan and light blonde beachy curls! I also can't get over how good these shoes look (obviously an actual actor couldn't wear real glass stilettos)!

Also, can we take a moment to appreciate that clock purse? Look me in the eyes and tell me this outfit wouldn't 100% be Ashlynn!

[sehunniepotwrites]

if we were a movie | j.jh

for @nctsworld’s first writing challenge

SYNOPSIS. For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

GENRE. childhood friends to lovers!au, college!au, drama school!au, slow burn, angst, humor, mutual pining, fluff (loosely based on the Filipino rom-com Must Be Love and If We Were a Movie by Hannah Montana) PAIRING. theatre major!Jaehyun x  theatre major!reader WORD COUNT. 14+ k

WARNINGS. point of view switches from first (”I”) to second (”you”); self-doubt, insecurities, mutual pining, cursing, lots of references and direct quotes from musicals such as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, Disney’s Newsies, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Shrek the Musical, and Wicked (edited but i might’ve missed some mistakes; bare with me!)

There are moments where time flows as normal, where people carry on with their days as they usually do. Then, there are moments people experience in slow-motion, where the world just stops spinning and all the background noise just fades away. These are the moments people look forward to. They’re the breathtaking ones, the ones that capture your heart and soul. After those moments, people are never the same. 

The first time I experienced something in slow motion was when I made my stage debut at a small talent show. There was thunderous applause after my performance and while my heart thumped against my chest, the world seemed to come to a stop. That’s when I knew my heart belonged to the stage or rather, the stage belonged to me. 

Some of these slo-mo moments are the ones where people fall in love. 

My father said that’s how he knew my mother was the one for him: he experienced it all at a slowed rate, everything fading into black and she was the only thing he saw. She was his brightest star and he was the one who reached for the sky to bring her down to Earth. 

When I was younger, I always dreamed about my “falling in love” slow-mo moment. I pictured a grandiose event with large actions and sweet words.  For it to actually happen at theatre camp during the initial dress rehearsal for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast J.R.— well, that was far from what I hoped for. 

And yet, it was just as special as I thought it would be. 

I was in my obnoxious fork costume, waiting for my best friend to leave the boy’s dressing room. 

Jung Jaehyun had been my best friend since the beginning, otherwise known as my first year at theatre camp. Only ten years old at the time, we both were cast as two of the three blind mice in Shrek the Musical and had been inseparable ever since. Although we attended different middle schools, our friendship grew from our shared vocal and dance lessons as well as our summers at camp. You know how it is; those who end up in the ensemble together stay together. 

Going over the dance moves in my head, I didn’t hear my friend’s voice calling my name. He gripped my shoulder, the action surprising me to the point where I lost my balance. I yelped and shut my eyes, expecting to fall onto the hard ground but a hand grabbing onto my wrist prevented my doom. With an arm around my waist, I barely missed the ground.

Slowly opening my eyes, I glanced up to see Jung Jaehyun looking down at me with a worried gaze. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy dressed as a spoon and yet, the world around us came to a halt. Gone were the other frantic theatre kids and the backstage messes. The couple playing Belle and the Beast was no longer sitting across from us, running through their lines. No hustle and bustle of the crew and the props masters.

It was just me dressed as a fork, falling down while my spoon for a best friend caught me in his arms. 

“We make quite a pair, don’t we, Forky?” he chuckled lowly, hitting the top of his costume to mine. It was a ridiculous sight— a pair of oversized cutlery in a crowded dressing room.

A burning hot sensation crept its way up to my face as he gently pulled me up. “I guess we do.”

Since then, my life has never been the same. I was in love with my best friend, Jung Jaehyun. I fell for him when the world stopped spinning beneath my feet while his world, unfortunately, kept on turning.

I remember each and every slowed-down moment in life —the good, the bad, and the absolute worst. I never thought a bad slo-mo moment existed, I simply didn’t think it was possible. 

I was young and naive then and I was so incredibly wrong.

The moment that hurt me most took place in my senior year of high school. The final callbacks for our community’s production of Disney’s Newsies were in order. The role of Jack Kelly, the headstrong and flirty newsboy, was easily given to the ever-so-charming Jung Jaehyun. He was not only my best friend at the time but he was the it-boy of our small theatre. People were either in love with him or wanted to be him— his talent matched his insane looks. His kind personality made him all the more lovable.

Jaehyun had his two fatal flaws, though. Everyone knew them but still saw him in such a bright light.

One: the boy was extremely clumsy. Jaehyun was often called “magic hands,” constantly ruining his props. It was a running gag in the theatre but the props committee never minded; one smile was all it took for them to forgive him and his cursed hands. 

That was his first flaw. And his second? Jaehyun fell in love way too easily and way too fast. 

How exactly did I find this out? Well, I was there to witness the scene that lifted his heart to the highest of levels while mine dropped straight to the ground.

I was in the running for the stubbornly intelligent female lead named Katherine Plumber. My opponent was the confident and radiant Son Wendy. She always played the lead in her high school productions but this was a community musical and I was determined to claim that part as my own. 

I went first, entering the audition room with a smile with the script gripped tightly in my palm. Performing alongside my best friend was easy. The romantic scene was a piece of cake, not because the lines were a breeze. That wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t because I memorized the Newsies script as a child either. It was because, at that moment, Jung Jaehyun was in love with me as much as I was in love with him. It was a moment I wanted to cherish forever: the way he looked at me was something I had never experienced before. It was so full of emotion and passion, like he had me within his grasp and never wanted to let me go.

“You got this. I believe in you,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in support. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine. The nerves were back, not because of the audition, but because of him. 

“You’re just saying that because it’s the scene we’re about to act out, Jae,” I hissed. The sheet music for the duet, Something to Believe In, wrinkled in my free palm. 

His warm, comforting hand pressed harder against my own. “No, it’s not that. If you need someone to believe in you, I’m right here. I’ve got you, Forky. Always.”

The director cleared his throat from his seat, his scrutinizing eyes watching us closely as we got into position, just like we rehearsed a thousand times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I watched as Jaehyun took a deep breath to get into character. He closed his eyes, rolled his broad shoulders back, and then his lids snapped open. His brown-eyed gaze aimed straight at me, with a vulnerable expression taking over his features. He was no longer Jung Jaehyun— he was Jack Kelly, a scared newsboy who was in love with a newspaper company heiress. 

The line came pouring out of his mouth with the utmost sincerity, the confusion and affection seeping through his words, “Just standing here tonight, looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everything.”

 Jaehyun took a step forward towards me, an unsure smile curling on his lips. “If there was a way I could just grab hold of something to make time stop just so I could keep looking at you.”

His body stops right in front of mine, keeping a clear distance but enough to feel the passion radiating off of his words and actions. For once in my young life, my best friend looked at me with a different kind of love in his eyes and I returned it, my genuine feelings seeping through my words. 

Biting my lip, I replied coyly, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly, I never even saw it coming.”

“For sure?” he stage-whispered. His upstage hand unexpectedly reached up to caress my cheek. The action was unrehearsed, almost catching me off guard. It was a different take on the scene. The characters were supposed to be shy, their thoughts wavering on their own feelings for each other and the impending strike that was to come the day after; yet, Jaehyun played Jack as someone certain of his feelings.

“For sure,” I answered back at the same volume, my hand cupping his own to follow along with his direction. It felt as if he was searching my soul for my thoughts and I could not let him in. The opening bars of the romantic duet echoed throughout the room and after taking a breath, I began to sing. Jaehyun joined in on the second verse and instantly, our voices blended together in a beautiful harmony, one that beat our Newsies karaoke sessions in his car. 

The scene ended as quickly as it began. The director hummed before jotting notes down and whispering to his casting assistants for a few seconds. I thought they were the longest seconds of my life. Jaehyun nodded his head to reassure me. “You did well, Forky.”

“Of course I did, it’s me we’re talking about here,” I nudged him back. “I can do no wrong, Jae!” 

“Thank you,” the director finally spoke, “you may go. Jaehyun, if you could escort her out and fetch Wendy for me?”

“Of course,” your friend nodded. The feeling of his large hand on my back slowly guided me out of the room. The spot he touched me burned but my cheeks were burning even more. Why was it that every little touch drove me to the brink of insanity?

“You’re so going to land this part,” I remember him saying as he squeezed my waist. My heart was beating erratically against my ribcage, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly their way up my throat.

“You think so?”

“Oh definitely,” Jaehyun stressed with a wink. 

He said it too soon. 

Because the minute he locked gazes with Son Wendy, I just knew he had found his leading lady. 

“S-Son Wendy?” he stuttered as he caught sight of the pretty girl in the waiting room. Her hair was styled similarly to a young maiden from the turn of the century, perfectly curled and out of her face. 

“Yes?” she smiled back.

It seemed like the words were caught in my best friend’s throat. Sneaking a glance at Jaehyun’s ears, they burned a bright red. “We’re, um, we’re ready for you.”

I watched as Jaehyun nervously offered his arm to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was her own personal spotlight, the way his eyes shone just for the girl in front of him. The boy was completely enamored and I was instantly in the shadows. The sweet smile that was reserved for me was directed towards another and it sparkled in a way it never did before.

The world around me moved incredibly slow as they passed me by. With everything frozen, all I saw was the gorgeous couple headed to the audition room with hushed exchanges. Jaehyun took his time heading to the private room to spend more time with the girl while Son Wendy steadily made her way into my friend’s fragile heart. My own heart clenched at the sight. It was breaking ever so slowly and I felt every little crack and tear. 

Even with the role of the understudy, it was as if I never even had a chance at winning his heart over. If Wendy wasn’t present for one rehearsal, Jaehyun didn’t even see me— his own best friend since our ensemble days. He was way too deep into his “showmance.” It was like I never even existed. It wasn’t long before he called Wendy his girlfriend and then, I was invisible. Cast aside. Ignored.

Needless to say, my heart broke in slow-motion as Jaehyun’s pounded rapidly for a girl that took two parts I desperately ached for: Katherine Plumber and the girl who held Jaehyun’s heart. 

But this was just the first time his heart was stolen by his opposite. The first of many.

The first two years of university passed me by like a summer breeze. Constantly busy with general education and introductory drama courses, I was constantly flitting around from building to building. My hands were usually occupied by my laptop, a blazing cup of caffeinated tea, and a worn out script while my mind was filled with jumbled up lines and the dramatic cries of an overwhelmed university student. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for Jaehyun and Xiao Dejun, another theatre major we had met during orientation, by my side.

Fast forward to my third year and the three of us were headed to the office of the theatre department. It was posting day for the spring musical— the day the cast list was revealed. This year’s musical spectacular was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. The play itself was a modern classic and it was also my dream come true.

This day, just like any posting day of the drama department, was nerve-racking. Everyone was anxious to find out what parts they were given and how the fairytale would play out. The part of the brave and kind Ella was always on my list of roles I wanted to fill. As much as I thought I did well on my final callback, I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked while draping an arm over my shoulder. He playfully put all his weight onto his right side to throw me off balance. 

“Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous if I’m like 95% sure  I’m going to get the understudy again?” I chuckled sarcastically. Bitterly. It happened every year, so why get my hopes up now?

“Yeah but—”

“No buts, I’ve accepted the title of the Wonderstudy! I think you should too, Jae,” I slapped his shoulder before quickly slipping out of his hold before linking arms with Dejun. My best friend let out a yelp, almost tripping over his own two feet as we continued down the hallway. “I’m mediocre at best.”

The Wonderstudy: it was the nickname the other students in the department gave me because I was always the understudy. I was never the star of the show. It said that I was good but not good enough. 

Dejun leaned in and whispered, “You do know that you’re more than just that, right? You’re an actor. A phenomenal one. You weren’t accepted to this drama program by just being mediocre at best.”

I ignored my friend’s comment, eyes zoned in at the other end of the building. The crowd of usual theatre students crowded around the bulletin board, curious heads popping up and down trying to take a peek at the list. Some buzzed with excitement, happy they got a major part while others groaned in disappointment. You were most likely going to be with the later group. 

Once the cluster of students caught sight of Jaehyun, they parted like the red sea to let him through. It wasn’t really necessary, though, everyone knew the it-boy of the drama department was cast as the role of the misguided prince, Topher. 

The only question was: who was cast as his princess? Who was this year’s Ella?

I fought my way through the bunch with Dejun following behind me as our best friend was showered with congratulations. Jaehyun was all smiles, dimples prominent as he was lavished by the mass. Dejun made it to the list first. His finger dragged along the thin paper until he found his name. He cheered, pumping his fist up in joy. “I got the part I wanted! I’m Jean-Michel!”

Grinning at my friend, I sincerely congratulated him. He got the second lead: the feisty peasant looking for change. Turning again, his eyes grazed the list until Dejun found my name. His smile dropped ever so slightly and that was when I knew: I was beaten once again. 

“What part did I get?”

“Gabrielle,” he answered. Ah, the outwardly abrasive but quietly empathetic sister. The second lead, love interest of Jean-Michel. At least I was playing Dejun’s opposite. 

I took a step closer, wondering who took the part of the kind princess. Squinting at the small print, my eyes scanned the jumble of words until I saw it.

Ella……………………….Lee Naeun Ella u/s………………….Y/N

I scoffed. Forever the understudy. The Wonderstudy of the Theatre Department indeed.

The first rehearsal, otherwise known as the read-through, took a toll on me. It was usually a two to three hour long session, filled with loud chatter, crazy introductions, and a variety of crazy theatre games to break the ice. When the niceties ended, everyone took their seats in their plastic chairs that were arranged in a huge circle. Bae Joohyun, the head stage manager began reading the stage directions aloud as the table read began. The production’s director, Professor O’Hare, sat alongside Joohyun, jotting down notes and giving out commentary when needed. 

Amongst the reading of lines were tiny whispers, the sound of highlighters and pencils marking the paper, and the simultaneous turning of pages. The music director, Professor Lau sat at the piano bench and sight-read the music to give the cast a taste of the songs. Being the first rehearsal, the few who knew of the songs sang along to the accompaniment with joyous smiles, myself and Dejun included.

When Professor Lau played the first romantic duet between the leads, all heads turned to Jaehyun and Naeun who sat side-by-side. With it being their first time together, the performance was far from perfect but it was still something. His lower tone blended nicely with her softer voice and the shy glances they exchanged made their duet quite a sight. 

As Jaehyun and Naeun read the last lines for Act One, I noticed the way Jaehyun’s gaze kept flittering back to Naeun’s pretty face. The girl was focused on her lines, head down and hair blocking her gorgeous features, but he still kept looking at her and only her. I could imagine how the scene was playing out in his head, the world slowing down until Naeun was the only one moving.  He was infatuated. Twitterpated. 

And it hurt. It hurt more than reading the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet or listening to Elphaba’s desperate cry she lets out when she loses Fiyero. Call me dramatic but that was how I felt. 

It wasn’t like I tried getting over him. It wasn’t like I tried dating other people before; I had many, many times but my mind always drifted back to my best friend. He was the boy with the richest brown eyes, the perfectly dimpled smile, and the lowest laugh that set my heart aflame. Without even knowing it, Jaehyun had this incredible hold on my broken heart and he would not let me out of his grip. 

The green-eyed monster inside me resurfaced and I hated it. I absolutely hated it— why was I so pathetically in love with my best friend? 

 “Here we go again,” I said before dropping my head onto the table. 

“You say that every time and you keep running back to him at the end of the day,” Dejun whispered before looking back down at his script. His hand continued to jet across the page, his highlighter marking his many lines. 

Rolling up the script in my hand, I whacked his side. The action caused his hand to jerk the bright marker in another direction, striking a distorted line on his page. “Look what you did, twerp!” he hissed.

“Your fault, Eyebrows!”

“Stop calling me that, you fork!”

“Hey, only I can call her fork!” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere, plopping alongside me. His voice snapped us out of our little argument, making us realize that the director called for a fifteen. 

“That’s only because you’re a dumb spoon,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Jaehyun pretended to reach for it and I blew a raspberry at him to retaliate. 

“You two idiots are my favorite cutlery set,” Dejun shook his head with a laugh. He was probably wondering why he stuck around us the majority of the time. 

“Let off it, Dejun,” Jaehyun said with the roll of his brown orbs. 

“Only if you let me be the knife to your set.”

“As if, dumbass,” I countered with a laugh. 

“Okay but you guys, can we stop fighting for a sec and talk about how I got her number?” Jaehyun beamed, throwing his arms over both our shoulders. He pulled us closer to his body and the faint smell of his musky cologne hit my nose. I held back a sigh as it filled my senses. Oh, to be drowned in his scent. 

“I got Naeun’s number!” he repeated excitedly, his strong arms shaking us. I held back my abrupt want to push him off. I wasn’t in a celebrating mood. My heart was too broken to care.

“Of course you did, when do you not get a girl’s number?” I answered a bit too bitterly. Raising a brow at him, I added, “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“Listen,” Jaehyun countered, pulling back from me. “I don’t like that attitude, Forky.”

I scoffed, “Never stopped you from being my friend before, Jae.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer; he was too busy clutching his phone. His pretty brown eyes were fixed on Naeun’s contact page like it was the world’s greatest treasure. His eyes were sparkling in admiration before his gaze turned to the girl across the room. The look my best friend wore on his face was soft, the smile on his lips light. “I think she could be the one.”

Some thought him to be a player but I never thought of him that way. He might have had the looks of a heartbreaker but he had the purest heart of gold. The boy with the dimpled smile, porcelain skin, and cheeks as red as roses was a hopeless romantic to his very core. He was simply looking for his other half. 

“I think she could be the one.” His words repeated in my head, his voice pestering me. My heart lurched at them despite hearing them each semester. 

Jaehyun said this every year, with every girl. He said this when he crushed on Son Wendy, Kim Chungha, and so many more. His infatuations and crushes ended just as easily as they started. The boy was more than disappointed when the initial spark with each girl ended after a show’s run ended. When the musical closed, so did his feelings for each opposite. 

I never got stage fright; I was usually the one who said what was on her mind without a moment’s hesitation. So why was I hesitating to tell him my feelings?

Why was I hesitating to say that the one Jaehyun could be looking for was standing right next to him?

Just another rehearsal at the auditorium. 

Just another day watching my best friend fall for his leading lady.

Jaehyun and Naeun were standing in the middle of the stage, the ensemble surrounding them. He stood behind her, his hands gently placed on her waist while she leaned back into his touch. Naeun was wearing a fluffy tulle skirt, a mock-up of her ballgown. Park Sooyoung, the resident fashion major and lead costume designer, pushed her to wear it so she could get used to the estimated size of her dress. Even in a mere tank top and tulle skirt, Lee Naeun looked like a princess.

Professor Kwon, the choreographer of the production, stood at the end with a watchful eye. She counted them off, walking them through the routine while the rest of us practiced our steps off to the sidelines. 

Once the two main characters got the hang of their steps, Professor Kwon motioned for Professor Lau to play the songs from the beginning. As much as I tried to focus on my own dance moves, my mind kept wandering back to Jaehyun. 

Imagining him under the spotlight in a perfectly tailored suit, a crown sitting on his head, extending his arm out not to Naeun but to me. It was one of those movie moments where the characters and the audience watching fell in love. 

If life was like a movie, things would be so much easier. 

So lost in my thoughts, I missed a count and stepped on my partner’s foot. Muttering a quiet sorry to him, we continued on with the routine. As my partner swirled me around the dance floor, I drifted back into my daydream.

My utterly impossible daydream where I was the girl Jung Jaehyun was infatuated with. Although this play talked about impossible things happening everyday, I couldn’t imagine this ever happening. 

The terrible thing about being a theatre major in university was being a theatre major with midterms. Not only did I have to deal with hours of my back hunched over a desk and scattered study materials, I had to spend half of my days in the school’s theatre rehearsing. 

If I was not in class scribbling down last minute notes in notebooks,  I was learning dance routines or running lines on and off stage alongside Dejun. The days were long and the nights were even longer. Sometimes, the cast fell asleep in the seats of the auditorium while rehearsals were going on. We were all losing sleep. Some of us were losing our sanity but hey, welcome to the theatre. 

My schedule was filled to the brim and I wasn’t even the main character of the show. On top of that, I had to memorize the part of Ella. Not that it was really needed in the first place. 

No one ever stepped down from a lead role while I was their backup. It just didn’t happen.

Despite the hectic lives of belonging to the theatre department, the musical was two months into production and everything was running smoothly. With a month and a left until opening night, everyone was off-book and the initial stage blocking was done. The costuming and makeup committee were finishing up their mock-up designs and the student orchestra sounded divine. 

I saw more of Dejun than Jaehyun lately, my best friend being preoccupied with his new love interest before, during, and after rehearsals. I was cast aside once again.

Was it something out of the ordinary? No.

Did it still hurt? Yes.

Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness. I rather suffer than see him as nothing but joyous, even if the happiness was temporary. The grin he wore when he was in love was too beautiful to rip away. Jaehyun shined like the light from the sun. I could never bring myself to do it. 

It was week eight of rehearsals when I stepped out of my last midterm, my head absolutely empty after reading small text for over an hour. Reaching into my backpack’s front pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly turned it on. My screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Professor O’Hare, Joohyun, Jaehyun, and Dejun, the notification numbers reaching over a hundred total. 

Something must have happened. Talk about a theatre emergency. Knowing our kind, they were probably being overdramatic. 

Just as I was about to unlock my phone, a video call went through. It was Dejun. Rolling my eyes, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it. “Jeez, I know you love me but give a girl a break, Eyebrows!”

“God, you’re so conceited sometimes. Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He shouted, face close to the phone. I winced at the volume, immediately lowering the level as I slipped on my wireless earbuds. “There are important matters to discuss here!”

“What happened this time? Did someone say Macbeth in the theatre again? You know I don’t believe in that shit,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh my god. This is not the time for jokes! Everyone’s been trying to reach you!” Xiaojun yelled once more. “Where are you?!”

“I just got out of my musical history midterm in Maple Hall. Heading to the theatre right now. Why?” I never received an answer; Dejun hung up the call. Giving my phone a weird look, I shoved it in my pocket before continuing on my way. A light push on my back prevented me from going too far. 

“Twerp!” Xiao Dejun’s voice came from behind me, yanking me by the straps of my backpack. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said in between heavy breaths. 

Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Dejun placed a hand on my shoulder for support. The words came flying out of his mouth, I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. So much for being a theatre major. 

“Speak clearly, Dejun. Enunciate, articulate, exaggerate, remember? We are thespians and thespians do not mumble!”

The exhausted boy ignored my theatricals. “Naeun didn’t land a switch leap right and she rolled her ankle during advanced ballet. She’s going to be out for at least three to four weeks,” my friend replied breathily, his words a lot clearer than before.

The news shocked me to the core, my feet suddenly planted to the ground. It sounded like he said Naeun was out of commission. “What?” 

“She’s out for three to four weeks! I mean sucks for her, I wish her a speedy recovery but do you know what this means?”

The lack of response from me urged him to continue, “Sweetheart, she’s out. You’re in!”

Oh shit. I was in.

The part I had always dreamed of was mine. The lead role was finally mine.

I was now Ella and Jung Jaehyun was my Prince Topher.

Having an understudy step up to their role halfway through production was always something to get used to. It was a setback, a minor one, but still a setback. Just as Jaehyun finally settled into his role and built an unshakeable bond with Lee Naeun as his opposite, the accident happened. His potential girlfriend was now out of the show and off her feet in order to push for a speedy recovery.

The lovesick boy couldn’t even be there for her because his rehearsal times increased in order to get his best friend adjusted to your new role. There he was, leaning against the piano while waiting for you to arrive.

Professor Lau sat at the bench, flipping through his sheet music until he found the song he was looking for. 

The door slammed open and you stumbled in. “Am I late? I’m sorry, I just heard the news.”

“No, not at all. You’re right on time,” the professor smiled at you. “The situation’s weird, I know but congratulations on getting Ella.”

“Thanks, Professor. That means a lot,” you grinned back. 

Dropping your bag by the piano, you swiftly pulled out the script. You glanced at Jaehyun’s opened book for the page number before hastily flipping through the pages. Jaehyun nudged your side. “Hey, Forky.”

“Hey yourself,” you elbowed him back, biting your bottom lip.

“Congrats, bubs. You did it,” he pulled you into a side hug before ruffling your hair with pride. You had finally gotten a part you wanted. It was your time to shine. As your best friend for many years, Jaehyun had been waiting for the day you could show the crowds your full potential.  

“Did I really do it or did your girlfriend just get injured? How is she, by the way?” 

As much as you tried to play the overdramatic, conceited girl, you never believed in yourself but Jaehyun always did. You deserve the spotlight; your talent was out of this world and the masses were finally granted a chance to see you for what you were— a star.

“You did this. You were made for this part as much as she was,” Jaehyun reassured his best friend with a smile. He tapped your nose. “And she’s not my girlfriend but she’s doing alright. Just in a little bit of pain. I’m going to see her after we finish.”

“Give her some well wishes for me,” you answered. Jaehyun didn’t notice your smile dropping into a small frown.

“You ready to act like you’re in love with me?”

“I was born ready, you doof.” There was something weird in your voice when those words left your lips but Jaehyun didn’t have time to process it.

Professor Lau guided the students through a series of warm-ups before asking, “Shall we start with Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful today? We’ll do a couple of run-throughs before Jaehyun teaches you the blocking.” His fingers played the beginning notes of the song, the light melody drifting to their ears. 

Already off book at this point, Jaehyun closed his eyes and began to sing.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?

Am I making believe I see in you A girl too lovely to be really true?

Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you?

Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?

When his eyes fluttered open, Jaehyun found himself facing you with a script in hand. Your face wore the softest look as you stared back at him. His breath almost caught in his throat at the gentle smile you wore. You played the part differently from Naeun and it was a refreshing sight to behold. You were playing a confused peasant but your eyes still sparkled with the gleam of a thousand suns. 

There was a flush of heat that started from his cheeks and extended to his reddening ears. His heart was doing its best to break out of his ribcage and the star of the show wasn’t sure if his chest could keep it in for very much longer.

When singing with him, Naeun was a pretty princess.

But when he sang with you, the girl in front of him? Jaehyun thought you were absolutely breathtaking.

Two hours later, we were finally free of rehearsals. My first rehearsal as Ella. My throat was a bit parched from all the singing and projecting I was doing but I felt lighter than air. Singing with Jaehyun made me feel lighter than air. I was weightless, nothing could hold me down.

“Forky, you’re really good,” he said to me as we walked to our cars. I tried to fight the sudden heat making its way to my face. Lately, compliments from him were hard to come by.

 It was already late when O’Hare and Lau finally let us out, the moon sitting high in the sky. The night breeze crept its way into my thin jacket, causing me to hug myself to retain some warmth. Noticing my struggle with the cold, Jaehyun quickly draped his jacket over my shoulders. I was immediately hit with his familiar scent, it was almost overwhelming. I should be used to this, his action of sharing his clothes with me was nothing new but I was weak. It affected me every single time. I guess I was that head over heels for him. 

Head over glass heels, one could even say.

“You’ve seen me in action before and I mean, I was chosen to be the understudy for a reason,” I gave him a shrug. 

“Yeah but I’ve never seen you act and sing like that. Just...wow.” Stealing a glance at him, Jaehyun almost looked enamored with me. He was giving me a look that was usually reserved for someone else. I felt my heartbeat pick up in my chest and flutters in my stomach.

“Stop that,” I blushed, pinching his skin through the thin material of his long-sleeved shirt. A satisfying buzz ran through my body. Was he really looking at me like that? I was probably reading too much into it.

“No, but it seemed so real. Like you weren’t pretending.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I whispered under my breath as we arrived at our cars. 

“Hmm, you say something?” Jaehyun asked, leaning closer to hear me. 

Shaking my feelings away, I ignored the dull ache in my chest and acted through the tears I was desperately holding in. I wrinkled my nose at him playfully, secretly pushing the pain down my throat. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you, Jae? I said, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Forky! Get home safely!”

Scoffing to myself, I realized how much of a great actor I was. I deserved an Oscar or a Tony for the scenes I played out, the ones where I pretended to be okay when I was far from it. 

What award do you ask? Best Actress in a Supporting Role— the best friend to Jung Jaehyun but never the love of his life.

Wardrobe fittings for productions were always an exciting day for the whole cast and crew. It was one step closer to putting on a show. Jaehyun was already dressed in one of his many costumes, a white suit with golden trimmings. It fit him for the most part, only tiny adjustments were needed. Members of the wardrobe department quickly pinned his neatly pressed jacket before taking it off his hands. Since he was the main character, Jaehyun was one of the first ones done. He was simply waiting for you to come out in your first dress— the white gown for the ball scene in Act One.

When you finally did all those minutes ago, Jaehyun swore his heart stopped. 

Ten minutes ago, Jaehyun saw his best friend walk through the curtains. Your face was bare, hair still in that lazy style you always sported but your clothes. The comfy clothing you usually rehearsed in was gone and replaced by a beautiful ball gown. Despite the pins that scattered throughout the material to fit your form, it still appeared majestic. There you were, standing before him and the rest of the cast, and you were the loveliest you had ever been.

Ten minutes ago, you walked in and his head was reeling. Time slowed down as you tentatively made your way towards him. You did not meet his eyes but Jaehyun was dying to catch your gaze. He never wanted to let you out of his sight. The picture of his best friend in white was something he wanted to treasure and suddenly, the slowness around him stopped. The cast’s cheers and squeals disappeared. There was only you in that beautiful ball gown. 

Was this the slow-motion moment you always talked about? The one you always dreamed about experiencing? Jaehyun could see why people thought it to be magic. It was almost like a movie, movie magic if you will. 

Another look at you and then Jaehyun was in the future, watching you make her way down the aisle. A thin veil covered your face and he was so tempted to push it away from concealing your dazzling smile. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest, wanting to head down the path straight to you. How he wanted to reach out and touch you, cradle you in his arms. 

You were truly an angel in white. A princess. A queen.

The mere sight of you took him to the skies, the one place he was sure you were from. Although Jaehyun would never admit it, he always thought you to be beautiful. Throughout the many years of being best friends, he would find his gaze subconsciously drifting to you. He would rip it away before you would ever notice him doing so, knowing you would tease the hell out of him for it— it was his own little secret tucked away into the corners of his beating heart. 

“How do I look?” Your question snapped him out of his daydream and back to reality. Back down to earth. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” 

“Oh my god, you stupid spoon! I said, how do I look?”

“Lovely,” he answered sincerely, his brown eyes digging into your own. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Ten minutes ago, you simply murmured a question while Jung Jaehyun came to a realization. The realization that he might’ve fallen for you: his Forky, his best friend.

The loveliest girl he had ever seen.

With Cinderella’s opening night being only a few weeks out, you and Jaehyun decided to fit in extra time together to run lines and songs outside of scheduled rehearsals. That was the plan for every weekend and that particular Saturday was no exception to this plan. When his doorbell rang frantically, Jaehyun groaned loudly before getting up to answer the door. Did you always have to be so obnoxious?

Just as the door swung open, your loud voice boomed into his apartment, “‘Sup, ho! Ready to rehearse the hell out of this show or what?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you immediately made yourself comfortable in his humble abode. Jaehyun almost laughed as he watched you. There was a particular routine you stuck to when visiting his place. First, you would take off your shoes, slip on your personal pair of slippers you left at his house, drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and then open his fridge to raid his food supply.

Precisely as Jaehyun predicted, you waddled to the fridge in your memory-foam duck slippers and stole one of his yakults. He loved how comfortable you were in his home. It was truly a heart-warming sight.  The act itself was extremely domestic and he quite liked the domesticity when it was with you. That flash of you in a wedding gown came back to him and he blushed at the thought. The idea of spending a future together was flooding his brain recently and he didn’t know what to do. 

You weren’t the one he liked. Naeun was but why were you the only person on his mind? Was it wrong to have you in his mind? Naeun wasn’t his girlfriend— they were still getting to know each other. His time with her decreased over time since you had stepped into the role of Ella. He was very fond of you. He always had been. There was this little piece of his heart that was reserved for you but was it because you were his best friend or was it more?

Jaehyun quickly snapped himself out of it. 

“First of all, I’m not a ho,” he said before grabbing a yakult of his own. He poked the straw through the foil a bit too harshly, the liquid splashing over the top. Damn his strength— now half of his drink was gone. “Second, stop slut-shaming me for my dating choices. It’s 2021. If I wanted to be a ho, I could be a ho.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Jaehyun said, pointing his drink towards you. He caught you rolling your eyes at his answer.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I am irrevocably in love with you, Jung Jaehyun,” you said sarcastically, dramatically batting your eyelashes his way. Your confession, despite being a sarcastic statement, left his heart racing against time. 

“Alexa, play Hopelessly Devoted to You!” you yelled ironically. 

“Now playing Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John,” an electronic voice boomed across his living room before the opening notes of the ballad began to play. 

“Shit! I forgot you actually had an Echo,” you jumped, not expecting that at all. Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction, loving how easily you scare. He always thought it was one of your cuter traits. 

“Alexa, stop!” he called. 

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. He dragged his feet to his bedroom, knowing you would follow without a word. “I can’t rehearse today, I have to write this damned analysis paper for a class. It’s due in two days.”

“I’m sorry, is that paper more important than your best friend in the entire world?” you pushed from behind him.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at his desk. Jaehyun’s study area was an absolute mess. His notebooks were scattered around the floor, textbooks opened to random pages, and his laptop opened to a google document.  

“That’s a motherfucking lie and you know it.”

“I really can’t rehearse now, Forky,” he sighed.

He glared at you as you theatrically fell onto his bed. The notes spread out on his bed flying to the floor. “Oh, woe is me! Jung Jaehyun cannot give me the time of day to rehearse. What am I to do?”

“Why are you like this?” 

“I’m a theatre student, I’m wired to be this obnoxious,” you said with a straight face. 

He stared at you through narrowed eyes. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know,” you countered with a flat tone. “But in all seriousness, Jaehyun. I won’t take too much of your time. I just wanted to practice our duets a couple of times and then I’ll be out of your hair. Plus, you look like you need a break.”

One look at you and he was a goner. How could he ever say no to his best friend?

“Ugh, fine.”

“Ha, I knew you would cave.”

“Shut up.”

The next hour with you was spent rehearsing the numbers. During the last run-through, Jaehyun suggested going over the blocking and putting their all in it. To act like it was opening night. You swiftly agreed and he played the music from the top.

Jaehyun led you around his room, spinning you across the floor as you sang. The smile on your face was so lovely, he could not take his eyes off your lips. His eyes fluttered to a close and he imagined you in your full costume, downed in your gown, as dainty as a daisy and as graceful as a bird. The thought of you dressed like a princess drove him crazy.

He never thought of Naeun this way. This was different. You were different but why?

Jaehyun opened his eyes to see you smiling so gracefully at him as the song was coming to an end. Just as planned in the show, your gaze flitted to his lips. You leaned closer and he followed, dipping his head to meet you halfway. His heart was skipping to its own beat as he inched down. Your soft lips brushed against his oh-so-gently as he held you in his arms but before the boy could press back, the door to his room swung open.

You broke away from him, shocked at the sudden arrival to see your other friend and Jaehyun’s roommate, Dejun. “Oops, was I interrupting something?” 

“I, uh, I gotta go.” Before you could even stop him, Jaehyun grabbed his wallet and phone off his desk and ran out his room. 

Confusion clouded his senses. Why did he feel empty after you pulled away? Why did he want to kiss you so badly? It was just a stage kiss.

Was it not?

Jaehyun’s door slammed shut behind him, leaving me and Dejun in his room. It wasn’t long before we heard the front door close, too. “Well, that was something,” Dejun said after his roommate shuffled out of the apartment.

“Shut up, Xiao Dejun,” I replied, smacking his arm. 

My friend lifted his arms up in defense before he gave me a pointed stare. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked really into it. It looked great, to be honest with you. No notes to give here— I’m sure O’Hare and Lau would say the same.”

“It’s just acting,” I tried to shrug it off. 

“Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not!”

“Bulltshit. I saw the way he looked at you— that’s not acting, twerp,” Dejun declared, his voice dropping. His voice never dipped in tone unless he was serious and in that moment, he was dead serious. My friend sounded like a frustrated tutor deliberately explaining a concept for the fifth time and I was the stubborn student who just didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes it is!”

“No, it’s not because that’s how he always looked at you!” 

“Lies!” I yelled accusingly, “We got Liza Minnelli over here!” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Why won’t you confess? Cat got your tongue? Nothing’s really stopped your sharp tongue before,” Dejun groaned at my stubbornness. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was too strong. Maybe it was him trying to help me get a grip. Who knew? I honestly didn’t. 

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know?” An exasperated answer left my lips. I was tired. So ridiculously tired of dealing with these feelings for my best friend. It had been four years since I fell for him. Four years of trying to see other people, four years of trying to confess, and four long years of failing every time.  “I just freeze up like a deer in headlights or like you did when you performed that one monologue sophomore year in voice and movement class. Remember that, Jun?”

I felt his sharp glare burning a hole in my back. “You promised to never talk about that moment, you traitor,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the hell out of my shoulder. 

“Okay yeah but you get the point, right?” My nails dug into his skin, leaving little indents onto his hand. He yelped, finally jerking his hand back to examine it. Shaking my head, I added, “Plus, he’s my best friend. I just can’t do it!”

“So, what you’re saying is that you choose friendship over the possibility of him loving you?” 

“It’s just...I don’t know—” I started, shifting my body to face him, “—choosing friendship means that I’ll only lose love. But if I chose to confess and put my feelings out there, I could lose him as a potential lover and my best friend. I’m not prepared for that. I don’t think I ever will be.”

And there it was again. The self-doubt hit me, imposter syndrome resurfacing at an all time high, bringing me to the lowest of lows. 

The feeling of being a fraud, of being not good enough. 

For Jaehyun. For any love interest for that matter. For the role of Ella. For taking my place under the spotlight. 

“Dejun?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I good enough?”

“For?”

“I—I don’t know—” I stuttered as my mind was consumed by my own crippling thoughts. I tried to stay strong but the crack in my voice gave me away, “—for anything? Everything?” 

“Oh, twerp,” Dejun said in that particular voice and then that was when the floodgates opened. The tears just came pouring down with no sign of stopping. My friend gently pulled me into his comforting arms. They were snug and I felt safe but not as safe as I did in Jaehyun’s hold.

“You, my darling, are definitely good enough. Don’t let your thoughts tell you otherwise.” Although his voice was comforting, it did not help the unhinged thoughts running through my brain. 

“Then, why does it always hurt when I don’t get the role of the leading lady? Of his leading lady? I always get so far and then, at the end of the day, I’m just not what they’re looking for. What he’s looking for.” Pining for something so unimaginable was too taxing. Having the lead role in a play and having Jung Jaehyun wear his heart on his sleeve just for me. 

“Sometimes, the roles aren’t made for you and that’s okay.”

“But what about this one?”

“This one, twerp, this one is a little different.” 

“And why’s that?”

“Because there is music in you; it goes hand in hand with Jaehyun, like a melody to his harmony. You are his Ella and he’s your Topher,” Dejun urged. It was like he was begging me to not give up hope. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not. You just gotta do what the theatre gods tell us to do: just trust the process.” 

How could I trust the process when all it did was hurt me by allowing me to have a glimpse of a love and a life that would never be mine? 

Opening night finally arrived. Everyone was called to the theatre for a full run through in the afternoon: the final dress rehearsal hours before the doors opened and the curtains were drawn. I had gotten there earlier to soak in the calmness of the empty auditorium before the chaos began.

I heard heavy footsteps come from behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it to be Jaehyun. The boy took a seat next to me on the wooden prop walls that were locked into the ground. If the stage managers and props committee saw us, they would’ve definitely ripped our heads off but they weren’t— it was just us.  

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear Ella?”

“Topher,” I answered, playing along with his game. “Lovely to see you here bright at early.”

“I knew you would be here and I wanted to be here with you,” he said, pulling me into a side hug. Jaehyun knew me well but did he know me well enough? “Spill it, Forky. What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes I still doubt myself,” I said a little too fast. A loud sigh followed my reveal. The crippling doubt was always there, haunting me. Let me tell you, it was not the best thing in the world to have during an opening for a new production. 

“Oh yeah?” Jaehyun asked, pushing me to continue. I felt the soft brush of his palm against my hand. His fingers grabbed hold of my wrist before fighting their way to tangle with my own fingers. The sensation tickled, taking me away from my thoughts for a fraction of a second. I played with his fingers, watching the way his pinkish hand fit with mine. 

I refused to look at him; I was too afraid of breaking down.“Doubting myself, my abilities. Always the understudy, never the star, remember?”

Jaehyun hummed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Did something change?”

“Yeah, I finally realized that maybe it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for the part; the part wasn’t right for me,” I laughed a bit dryly. “Does that make any sense?” 

“Weirdly, yes,” he replied, his breath blowing against my neck. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation and the way it made me feel. 

“But this is different— I feel like I was made to play Ella. Made to play her even though I got the part in this odd, unconventional way,” I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. “The girl who sees the good in everything despite the hardships and suffering she went through.”

“Without a doubt, I believe that you belong on stage with me,” Jaehyun answered sincerely, “and I’m glad we have the chance to finally play opposites.” 

He squeezed my smaller palm in support. I appreciated the reassurance; the action slightly calmed me down before she took the next step. Possibly the biggest step of my entire life. “There’s something else I realized, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I realized that I could be right for you.” 

It took him a minute, a long solid minute before Jaehyun could bring himself to respond to my confession. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, when those words left my mouth. “Right for me?” came his tentative reply. A quick glimpse at his ears and I saw the burst of red. He was caught off guard, embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” I said almost shamefully. Was I ashamed of my feelings? I never was ashamed before. Maybe it was because Jaehyun finally saw me for who I truly was— his highly dramatic best friend that was head over glass heels for him. 

“How long— how long have you felt this way?” The red of his ears seeped to his rosy cheeks. 

“Ever since we were a dumb pair of utensils,” I replied sincerely, my voice wavering at the truth, “a set of ridiculous tableware.”

There was an awkward chuckle that left his drying lips. I heard him click his tongue, a habit he did when Jaehyun never knew what to say. It seemed like I rendered him speechless. “Since we were sixteen? That long and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

“Yes, I really am!”

“Jaehyun, c’mon. Use your brain! How was I supposed to? You’re my best friend and when you’re not my best friend, you’re out there chasing other girls,” I stopped to lick my drying lips. There was another inkling of silence and I gulped at how tense the atmosphere was. “And I thought maybe once, just once, you would chase after me, too.” 

I almost laughed; my greatest desire was finally out in the world and it was greeted by silence. 

“But what if I’m wrong for you?” 

And there it was. The rejection I was preparing for. Giving him a pained smile that failed to meet my ears, I said, “Then that’s life, I guess.”

“You guess?” 

“Well, I can’t make you act like you’re in love with me, can I?” I snapped, my pain taking the best of me. It clouded my brain, blocking off all rational thoughts out of my head. “This isn’t a play or a movie with a script, Jaehyun. This is real fucking life.” 

Hurt. I was being overwhelmed with a wave of hurt and anguish. My body was trembling as much as my eyes were. I felt them growing wet and I shut them closed. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin. It stung but not as much as being rejected by the one you loved most. The lead of the movie in your mind. 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun tried to stop me from getting off the stage. I pulled away from him, quickly snatching my belongings before heading to the nearest exit. Turning back around before I left the empty auditorium, I experienced another moment in slow-motion. 

There Jaehyun was in all his glory— denim jacket slipping over his broad shoulders, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions and a confused look on his face. He looked like a mess under the spotlight of my mind but nevertheless, he was my mess of a best friend.

He was my mess of a best friend and that was all he was going to be. That fact hurt more than being the forever understudy. 

Why couldn’t I fast forward this portion of my life? Why must I suffer this much?

Why couldn’t I escape the role of being second best?

If only my life was a movie, then maybe I wouldn’t be everyone’s second choice. His second choice.

If we were in a movie, Jung Jaehyun would be my best friend and my perfect match. Our story would be the typical friends-to-lovers saga that every girl dreams of. It would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. 

Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

After that confrontation, you and Jaehyun were off and not off the charts— just off. The directors noticed it. The stage hands noticed. The cast noticed it. The final run-through before the curtains opened just finished and it was an absolute disaster because of the way you acted with Jaehyun. Every time he opened up his body to you, the response you gave him was closed off. Cold. 

To the rest of the cast and crew, the prince and princess didn’t seem very much in love that day— they didn’t even seem friendly. You and Jaehyun seemed like two strangers trying to work their way across a stage. There was no connection. There was nothing else there. 

Now, if only you would let Jaehyun talk to you, maybe something would change but you didn’t. You ran away every chance you could. It was like Cinderella, but you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. You didn’t leave anything behind. 

Less than an hour before showtime and he couldn’t even talk to you. Let alone look at you. He sighed into his hand, palms applying pressure to his eyes. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, forgetting that he had a heavy amount of stage makeup on his face. Looking into the mirror, he saw his makeup was still intact. Thank the theatre gods for the Ben Nye Final Seal Setter. It seemed like that it was the only thing set in stone at that moment. 

The door to Jaehyun’s dressing room slammed open and Dejun waltzed in, fully dressed in his costume.“Dude, what was up with you and the twerp during that dress rehearsal? You were so off!”

He received no reply, Jaehyun was too zoned out to hear. Dejun hopped onto the counter of Jaehyun’s dresser. Usually, the action would shock the main lead but Jaehyun was too lost in thought.“Well, you know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. That means we’ll have a good opening night,” Dejun said, eyeing his friend for his lack of response.

Finally looking away from his reflection, Jaehyun glanced up at Dejun with a look of disbelief. “She likes me?”

His friend jumped off the counter with widened eyes.“Oh my god, did she finally confess? Was that why you were acting weird?”

“Dejun, you knew?” Jaehyun slammed his palms on his dresser. The makeup products on the tabletop shook, leaving the other guy to wince at the show of strength. 

“Honestly for being the ace of the theatre department, you sure are dumb,” Dejun replied a bit too casually as he leaned into the mirror to examine his appearance. He clicked his tongue upon realizing his cheeks didn’t have enough color. The stage lights would wash him out. The boy reached for Jaehyun’s pink blush and a clean wedge before applying it onto the apples of his cheeks.

“What should I do?”

“Well, Jaehyun, what do you want to do?” Dejun asked, turning side to side to double-check his reflection. 

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!” Jaehyun fired back with vigor, hating how casual his best friend was acting. He was having a before-show crisis and his best friend was calmly stealing his bottle of Ben Nye, spraying his beautifully sculpted face with the setting spray.

“Well, do you like her more than a friend? And what about Naeun?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know! But—”

“But?” His friend asked before hopping onto the countertop. The actor raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his friend and Jaehyun had the sudden urge to pluck the beauties they were until Dejun had no eyebrow hair left. When Jaehyun didn’t reply, Dejun repeated his question.

Dropping his head in his hands, Jaehyun hesitantly replied, “There was this moment when I saw her and it was like that thing she always said? The slo-mo thing?”

Dejun’s head perked up. “You saw her in slow motion?” 

“Yeah, it was like time stopped. All I saw was her and then…” Jaehyun thought back to seeing you in a wedding dress. He changed his mind; he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. All he wanted to do was make sure opening night ran as smoothly as possible. Grabbing his white suit jacket for the top of Act One, the boy stood up in an attempt to escape his friend’s sudden peak in curiosity. “Never mind, this is ridiculous. I gotta go, Dejun.” 

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you actually confront your damn feelings,” Dejun said, shoving his friend back in his chair. “Do you like Naeun?”

There was a pause before he answered truthfully: “Yes.”

“Okay, and are your feelings for Naeun stronger than what you have for your best friend?” 

“No,” Jaehyun released another sigh as he leaned back in his chair. A hand reached up to brush through his hair before he remembered that it was gelled back in place. He dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, not wanting to mess with his looks before places. “I was infatuated with Naeun but with her, god, she’s something else and it took me this long to realize it.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Dejun questioned, squeezing his friend’s shoulders a bit too tightly. Jaehyun thought his friend was testing him and for a good reason. If he was in Dejun’s position, Jaehyun would’ve grilled his friend, too. “How do I know you’re actually in love with her? Yes, you’re my roommate and best friend but she’s my best friend, too. I can’t let you hurt her if all you feel is something temporary. I can’t let you treat her like those other girls.”

“Because she’s The One, Dejun. I’m certain of it,” Jaehyun snapped back. “When I look at her, I see everything I’ve been searching for. It’s like I was blind for the longest time, you know? She was always just Forky to me back when I didn’t know any better. But now I see and all I see is her— her, with all her flaws. The way she hides her insecurities with her dramatic outbursts. How she picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous or how she always steals my food at home. And the way she just fits with me. I can’t explain it.”

Jaehyun didn’t even give his friend a chance to butt in. He was still rambling on with a fond smile, his mouth running a mile. “She’s been there with me since the beginning, Jun. Before I was this prince of the theatre department, she was there. She’s been there since the beginning and even when I was chasing after girls, she was there at the middle of it all, and fuck, I want to go all the way to the end with her.”

Dejun released his hold on his friend and rolled his eyes. The boy made his way to the door of the dressing room before mumbling under his breath, “God, what is with you two and giving out monologues? I swear, when this is all over, you should become playwrights.”

“What?”

“Never mind me, Jaehyun,” Dejun opened the door and gestured for Jaehyun to follow the path— the path down the hall that led to you. “What are you waiting for? Go get her, we have 30 until Joohyun calls for places!”

“Dejun, it’s much more complicated than that.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it out to be. Just— just go and talk to her, yeah?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply as he reached your dressing room door. He knocked lightly, running through the lines he wanted to say in his head before you shouted a faint “come in.” The door squeaked open to reveal you, his best friend in the whole entire world, touching up your makeup. The best friend that he was inescapably in love with. You watched him through the mirror as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms. 

“Can we talk after the show? There’s something I need to tell you— it’s important. I don’t think I—um, I have enough time to tell you now,” Jaehyun asked, stuttering through his words. Gone was the confidence he usually bared. The only thing left in him was a scared little boy, afraid of the problem his words may cause. 

The smile he received from you did not reach your ears. “Of course,” you replied curtly before turning away from him. He noted how you were over applying your blush and fidgeting with your costume. You were doing everything in your power to avoid him. 

The tugging of your ear, the biting of your lip, the picking of your cuticles. He saw all your bad habits. You were a ball of nerves and the speaker announced it was ten minutes before places.

“Hey, Forky?”

“Yes, Jaehyun?”

“You know that I believe in you, right? Always?”

There was a twitch at the corner of your lips. “I do.”

“Good,” Jaehyun approached you with caution. You watched him from your mirror, never making direct eye contact as he came closer. He dropped a kiss on the crown on your head, relishing in the way his plush lips against your torn bandana and the lace front wig. “Break a leg, my Ella.”

He observed you through your reflection and took in how beautiful you looked in your rags. You made the rags the costume department designed for you look like riches. 

“Same goes to you, my prince,” he heard you answer in that soft tone.  Again, you had sent him to the skies and the boy was struggling to find his way back down.

When it was time to draw the curtains and light the lights for the first performance of Cinderella, it seemed like everything fell into place.  Jaehyun stared at you across the stage, falling for the way the lights illuminated your figure in that white ball gown. The bright glow brought his attention to your bright grin, that beautiful and radiant smile of yours, that shocked him to his core. 

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and suddenly, he was drowning. He was drowning in your expressive eyes. He was drowning in your overflowing love. 

It was different being across from you in front of a full audience. There was a rush that took over him whenever he saw you and it beat the flurries his heart experienced with his other leading ladies. As you said your lines with that bewitching sparkle in your eye, Jaehyun hated himself for not realizing how much he loved you sooner or how you were never playing pretend. 

But that was okay because Jung Jaehyun loved you now. He loved you in the world you made believe on stage, where he was Prince Topher and you were his Ella, and he loved you in reality where you would always be the fork to his spoon. 

Opening night went smoothly and the roaring applause I received during my final bow sent me to the moon. The way Jaehyun looked at me across the stage with eyes filled with pride and joy blasted me to places I had never been before. I became high on this feeling of being under the burning spotlights. The feeling of wearing the most intricate costume and the way his hand slid into mine for the last bow before the curtains were drawn; it was something I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life.

But with every high came a low— my low hit me when I ran into Jaehyun’s dressing room. I caught him in an embrace with Naeun who gifted my best friend with a rose. She placed a kiss on his cheek, causing his white ears to flush a deep red that rivaled the flower he held. The girl gave him a quick shove of the shoulder before heading to me. 

Her congratulatory statement went in one ear and out the other. I could barely process Naeun handing me a rose of my own before she walked out of the room, the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. She gave my best friend one more lingering look as she left and it hurt me in so many ways.

“Ready to go?” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat. “Wanna stop by the stage first? Soak in your first opening night as a lead?”

“Why the hell not?” The walk back to the stage was short. It felt different somehow.

“We did it,” I whispered.

“That we did,” he answered back. 

We walked onto the stage together and I could still hear the crowds cheering for me, giving me the standing ovation I earned. It was electrifying, the way the sparks ran through my body. It ran from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes. 

Glancing around the empty auditorium, I pondered aloud, “But do you know what sucks about it all, Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“There’s nothing worse than the feeling of not being chosen and it still hurts that I wasn’t the first choice,” I replied truthfully, “Not as much as before. But I’m learning to get over it. The casting directors saw potential in me.”

“That’s because you do have the potential to be a star. You’re practically glowing right now.” I felt his eyes trained on me, just like they were the entire time we shared the stage. 

Turning abruptly to face him, I said, “You really can’t say that to me, you know?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it makes my heart beat against my chest and these stupid butterflies come around before I remember that you have never chosen me to be your first choice,” I glared. 

“But I do choose you,” Jaehyun pushed, his voice laced with desperation, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you stormed off on me earlier!”

“Are you really choosing me, Jaehyun? The real me? The me that has been your best friend for years? Or are you choosing the me that shares a stage with you every night? The me that could potentially be your next whirlwind romance?” No matter how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t beat the hopelessness that was dripping from my own voice. 

“No, that’s not it at all!” his voice boomed, the sound echoing throughout the empty auditorium. 

“Then, what is it, Jung Jaehyun? Because I am tired of being second best and I’m tired of not being chosen,” I almost cried. The anguish was just taking over my body and I couldn’t make it stop. “Yes, I know some parts are not right for me but I can’t help but be hurt. And then you say that you’re choosing me? Of course, I’m going to think of it being because I’m your newest love interest on stage.”

“If you could just listen—”

Unable to stop the words from coming out, I just kept running off at the mouth. Everything I wanted to say to Jaehyun was flying out of my lips at rapid speed; I couldn’t even stop it. “I have seen you in slow motion so many times and I want to just fast forward from those moments. To speed past them so I can move on from the idea of not being yours. I refuse to be a temporary love that you lose interest in. I just want you to pick me, to choose me, and to love me, damn it— is that too fucking much to ask for? To be chosen and loved?”

While I was taking a breath to continue with my rant, Jaehyun cut me off and the words he said rattled the stage, the ground beneath my feet, and my whole entire world.“No, it’s not and you are way fucking more than that, if you just take a moment out of your godforsaken monologue and listen to me! I choose you not because you’re my leading lady but because you’re you. You’ve always been this— this incredible, breathtaking you.” 

He took one step closer and I took one step back. “And you’ve the person at my side when no one else is.” 

Every single time I would retreat, Jaehyun would follow. The boy was persistent, his brown eyes trained on me. “The one who figured out you loved me first while I was too blind to see it. You’re the fork to my spoon. We’re a set, we go together. And I was too dumb to figure out that at the end of the day, I always think about you and how no one I’ve ever been with compares to you.”

 When my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Trapped in between his arms and the way they propped themselves on either side of my face. Trapped in the haze of his brown eyes and how they dug deep into my soul. 

 “I don’t see you in slow motion— I see you in fast forward. I see you in the future, my future, walking down the aisle in white and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that I choose you. I will always choose you.”  

I was trapped by Jung Jaehyun and there was no escape for me. Judging by the way his eyes never let me out of his sight, there was a chance my friend didn’t want to let me go either. He wanted me to stay. 

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you. You’re my beginning, middle, and my end.”

“You love me? Like you’re in love with me?” Jaehyun heard you ask, like the possibility of being loved by him was so impossible. You were searching for any inkling of doubt but he made sure you couldn’t find any because you were the only thing he could see. 

Jaehyun brought a hand near your cheek. It hovered there as he hesitated to touch it to your skin until you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so warm in his palm and it was so comforting to have you in his hold. “I wanted to say it earlier but I was just so scared of losing you as both a lover and a friend because what if it all goes to shit? What if we go to shit and things hit the fan? I can’t lose you.” 

“But you, Jung Jaehyun, are in love with me?” you repeated as your hand cupped his own. The smile you gave him was bright enough to light up the stage. 

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear. I’m sorry, did I mumble that line?” he teased playfully, trying to coerce a giggle out of you. “Should I start the scene over?”

“No, no. I’m just—” you paused and he watched you recollect your thoughts. His glittering brown eyes were trained on you as the words processed in your head. “You love me,” you laughed in disbelief. 

Jaehyun took a step closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to stroke your face. He sighed in relief as you relaxed into his touch. “You’re my number one girl. I choose you.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing that even after all this time, I’ve always chosen you, too.”

Once those words left your lips, he couldn’t hold himself back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jaehyun pulled you against his chest and smashed his lips against yours. Yes, he had kissed you on multiple occasions prior to this— onstage and off— but this time was different than the rest.

 This was the first time he really kissed you after your feelings were out in the open.

The first time he kissed you and finally felt the love you harbored for so many years. Jaehyun just hoped you could sense the love he was pouring out for you, too. 

He did not want to let you go but he was struggling to breathe. You were so lovely, everything about you was so incredibly lovely, and to have you in his arms was the best feeling in the universe. Everything around him turned dark and he felt the warmth of a spotlight and the flush of your body against him. The entire world was spinning beneath his feet, his heart racing, and his lips chasing you and only you. 

Jaehyun did not understand why people did drugs— the high of being so ardently in love with another person, with you, gave him the high that he needed. 

He felt you hit his chest in an attempt to end the kiss but Jaehyun did not want to stop. A light shove to his shoulders was enough to separate his lips from yours and what a sight you were— chest panting heavily for air, lips plumped and swollen, and the prettiest set of eyes widened in shock.

“You kissed me!” you said in between pants. “Like not a stage kiss but you actually kissed me!”

“That I did, love,” Jaehyun replied cheekily, taking another step towards you. You stepped back to lean against the wall but did nothing to stop him from coming forward. “Are you gonna do something about it?” 

The look in your eyes changed after you heard his new nickname for you. It was coy. Flirty. Challenging. “Do it again, I dare you,” you whispered a bit too loudly. 

Before Jaehyun closed the distance, his eyebrow perked up at the challenge. “Gladly.”

Senior year was there before we knew it. 

Another year, another posting day. 

Dejun, Jaehyun, and I swiftly made our way down the hall to the front of the theatre department, curious to find out which roles we were given. The spring production and the final musical of our college career was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. 

Callbacks for Belle went as smooth as ever— the chemistry between Jaehyun and I were off the charts. But why wouldn’t they be? We were together now. 

Just like any other time, the crowds gathering around the cast list and bulletin board parted immediately once they caught a glimpse of Jaehyun approaching. The only difference was that this time, he was tightly clutching my hand. 

When we arrived in front of the board, I shut my eyes before I could read the cast list. An anxious buzz flowed through my veins, tickling the tips of my fingers and toes. My boyfriend must’ve felt the twitching of my fingers or the sweat dripping off my palms. 

I felt his body shift towards me. “Want me to take a peek first, love?” Jaehyun asked as he pressed his plump lips onto the crown of my head. He nuzzled his nose into my hair, a small but sweet action that always comforted me. 

Shaking my head, I looked at him and said, “No, why don’t we look together?”

“On three?” he grinned lovingly.

“On three, you dumb spoon.”

The countdown was quick but the glance I took at the cast list was even quicker. It was so quick, I almost didn’t catch who was put into the role of Belle. Taking a double take, I let go of Jaehyun’s hand as my eyes zeroed in onto the tiny print. 

Everything around me came to a stop as I read and re-read the cast list. Everyone around me was celebrating their parts but I couldn’t hear them, they were all muted in my mind. All I could hear was the sound of my own breaths  and all I could see my name on the top of the page. 

Belle……………..Y/N The Beast……..Jung Jaehyun

“Oh my god, I got the part,” I whispered to no one in particular. Backing away from the board, I repeated the same words a little louder and it got the attention of everyone surrounding me. Before I knew it, everyone threw a congratulations my way. The cheers were loud and obnoxious but they were for me because I did it. I finally did it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I backed away from the blustering crowd before bumping into my boyfriend’s firm chest. Jaehyun caught me in his hold, his arms circling around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder and placed a tender kiss on my temple. “Would you look at that? We’re not a ridiculous set of tableware this time.”

“No disrespect to those parts, they were awesome, but I think I like this a lot more,” I giggled, turning in his hold. 

As I circled my arms around his neck, he whispered, “Same here.”

I yanked him down into an earth-shattering kiss that sent the world spinning beneath my feet. It slowed down, speeded up, and it did everything in between. I saw flashes of yellow ball gowns, royal blue coats, and Jaehyun smiling at me gracefully across the stage. 

Jaehyun staring me down from the other end of an altar. 

I saw it all. 

If my life was a movie, then this would be the time that the screen would fade to black and show the names. Some overly poppy song would resonate through the speakers and everyone would get up from their seats and gush over the happy ending.

But it wasn’t. My life was as real as it could be and it was even better than any romantic-comedy that would ever grace the screen. 

This wasn’t the ending. 

This was the perfect beginning. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello, my darling readers! you really didn’t have to wait that long for this release, did you? a big thank you to several people: @johtenrecs for always being my beta and for the helpful feedback, to my chaotic gc ( @smoll-tangerine, @ppangjae, @jaedore​, and @jeongvision) for listening to me complain about how i was losing it while writing this fic, to @suhpressed​ for helping me with brainstorm, and lastly, to my lovely @notnctu bc without her and our crazy idea of hosting a hannah montana collab, i wouldn’t have gotten this idea! love y’all! hope you enjoyed this and please leave feedback! uwu

TAGLIST. @yasmini24 @jaehyunnie77 @emmybyeakitty @fluffyjaes @aevizen @dearjaehyxn @yourmagnanimousholiness @jaehyvnsvalentine @keemburley @softieus @lanadreamie @lebrookestore  @notmangojuice @felixn-recs @captainsjoongs @anotherfullsun @ukiyoneo @kunrengui​ @babyyynatty​ 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

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

[bukojuiice]

˗ˏˋ@bukojuiice’s BNHA masterlistˎˊ˗

REQUESTS: [CLOSED]

© bukojuiice - all rights reserved. please do not repost, distribute, copy, or plagiarize my work. please ask for permission if you wish to use my work for asmr or for voice overs. thank you!

➸ Headcanons

♡ ྀ  “midoriya, bakugo and todoroki cramming school works with their S/O”

♡ ྀ  “baby it’s cold outside.” (katsuki bakugo christmas hcs)

♡ ྀ  “going to Universal Studios Japan with them”  

♡ ྀ  “how you spend a virtual valentines date in quarantine w/ them” 

♡ ྀ   what happens when the bakusquad babysits Katsuki’s daughter? 

♡ ྀ     i like you a latte. (Coffee Shop AU! Headcanons)

♡ ྀ what they would be like as disney princes

♡ ྀ their wedding day with you

♡ ྀ the lovey-dovey things they do with you while you're both stuck at home during quarantine

♡ ྀ  the kinds of movies he’d watch with you.

♡ ྀ when he does the lip bite

♡ ྀ  when they read self-insert fanfiction of themselves

♡ ྀ cat ears or maid outfit?

♡ ྀ     how dekusquad + bakusquad comfort you after getting your heartbroken

♡ ྀ   mha boys accompanying you to buy lingerie

➸ Izuku Midoriya

Fics ↝

♡ ྀ  I will hold on to everything we got. A quitter, regretter and forgiver is everything I’m not.

(↳  unprompted and unexpected goodbyes are the worst. how are you going to be able to tell izuku the fact that you were moving away from the city that the two of you have lived in, grew up in, and soon became the place where the two of you fell in love with each other? how could you let this precious cinnamon roll go?)

♡ ྀ  she’s not afraid of scary movies, she likes the way we kiss in the dark.

( ↳  it is your weekly movie night with Izuku and co, but whilst waiting for your other friends, you and your boyfriend had the most wonderful idea of watching a gory horror movie.)

♡ ྀ as the world caves in

( ↳ no one else could ever carry the burden that Izuku holds in his hands. But when a girl from his past helps bring him to a realization, he begins to contemplate on whether or not sacrificing everything that you love to become a hero is worth it all.)

➸ Katsuki Bakugo

Cuddle Buddy! (Social Media AU)

Katsuki’s Convenience (Social Media AU)

Fics ↝

♡ ྀ  thank god for plot twists like you.

( ↳  Katsuki barges in your dorm room after class to see you crying in your bed with your phone in your hand… but why exactly?)

♡ ྀ  the s in studying stands for sexy times (implied smut!)

( ↳  katsuki is helping you study for your finals. but to no avail, none of the articles you were reviewing were processing inside your mind at all. until, katsuki had thought of a great idea to help you study. a spicy one at that.)

♡ ྀ  you fell from the sky into my lap (smut)

(  ↳  You and Katsuki become one as the two of you get in the mood with the music on his Spotify playlist.)

♡ ྀ  my world is changed and it’s cradled by the comfort that is you.

(  ↳  After receiving a quarterly report on the status of your hero internships and as a 3rd year student of UA Academy, your day is ruined as soon as you began to read it’s contents. Your explosive boyfriend does not want to see you like this. But how can he possibly cheer you up?)

♡ ྀ   like the soul of honey 

( ↳ Christmas finally approaches and your daughter, Hikari, can’t wait to spend it with the best parents ever.)

♡ ྀ  you got questions, i got answers tonight, babe. (smut!)

(  ↳ you and the bakusquad drag bakugo to a short vacation after such an intense week of hero work, much to his annoyance. however, his stress and pent up energy was more than you expected, so you knew exactly how to release all his frustrations.)

♡ ྀ  fix you. (studio ghibli au! princess mononoke au!)

(  ↳  Katsuki Bakugo is the righteous yet arrogant village prince of the east. The entire village relies on him for protection and for guidance, further inflating his ego. however, after a cursed boar attacks him and the curse is passed on to him as a poisonous mark on his arm, slowly consuming him until he becomes a demon himself. he is exiled without hesitance from his village and is to go on a journey to look for a cure, a journey he might never come back from. With the help of two of his most trusted allies, he embarks on a journey to look for the gods of the forest in where he meets a girl (just as striking as him) who brings him back down to earth, saves him and make him experience a true life worth living.)

♡ ྀ  25 lives (time traveler au!)

(  ↳  After losing the love of his life in a brutal villain incident, Katsuki Bakugo had lost a part of him. Nothing and no one could ever bring her back. He became the shell of a person he once was; fiery, bright, and the driven #2 Pro-hero in the country. He continues to live life with guilt, all hope still lost until he is gifted a time device that can transport him to parallel universes, dimensions and alternate worlds, where he begins his quest to find his lost love. Crossing a hundred of realities and living twenty-five lifetimes just to bring her back into his arms. )

♡ ྀ to the most explosive boy i’ve ever loved before

(  ↳  six letters. one for every boy you’ve ever loved. The letters for your eyes only, filled with all the words you could never say. until, one day, they start appearing out of nowhere into your life again, and your love life goes from imaginary to out of control.)

♡ ྀ  lovesick girl

(  ↳  your planned birthday surprise for katsuki takes a turn for the worst when you’re suddenly struck by a cold, prompting your dynamite boyfriend to take care of you and shower you with love and affection on his special day.)

♡ ྀ nicotine and faded dreams  (smut!)

(  ↳  Fame. Success. Glory. Bakugo’s had and seen it all, being a part of one of the biggest bands in the world. All he’s ever wanted was (Y/N), who comes back into his life just in time for the last leg of the band’s European tour. Bakugo thought that after making it big he wouldn’t have to face the muse for their most successful song any time soon. But a trip to Venice organized by scheming band mates has him stuck in a car with that very same muse. or Rock bands, a love Bakugo’s been trying to run away from and a cleverly schemed road trip: what could go wrong?)

♡ ྀ the morning afterglow

(  ↳ basking in the hues of wonderment that is the morning sun with your explosive boyfriend by your side was truly a dream. lingering in the bed much longer was an absolute must. these are one of those days.)

➸ Todoroki Shoto

Fics ↝

♡ ྀ  when you kiss me, heaven sighs.

( ↳  you and Shoto arrive in the city of love.  the day seems perfect until things go awry.)

♡ ྀ   a love like the movies

(  ↳    Shoto spends his only day of rest and relaxation by watching iconic tv shows and sitcoms with you.)

♡ ྀ   my youth is yours.

( ↳  shoto todoroki entered college with one thing in mind; be able to graduate and follow in his family’s footsteps. however, college had different plans for him. and meeting the one he would spend the rest of his life with was one of them.)

♡ ྀ merry go round of life (studio ghibli au, howl’s moving castle au)

( ↳ shoto todoroki is a magical prince who yearns for freedom. with the entire country against him, and the freedom he ever so wanted barely in his grasp- he seeks solace in a girl who works in a hat shop. she was his comfort in days full of disaster and war. and ever since then, he has finally found a reason to live.)

♡ ྀ something in the rain 

( ↳  you and shoto were once childhood best friends and sweethearts who had lost touch and communication. 12 years has passed since then, and on a fated summer day in june, there was something in the rain that brought two lost souls back to each other’s arms.)

  ♡ ྀ  are you feline what i’m feline? (smut!)

( ↳ blessed with a quirk that can temporarily transform any human being into any living thing they want through the means of potions and concoctions, you brew up a cat girl potion to surprise shoto for your second year anniversary. however, some accidents and mishaps happen, and you’re welcomed home by a handsome cat boy instead.

♡ ྀ  if i could tell her

( ↳  in where shoto todoroki is hit by a sudden realization that the love of his life was right in front of him all along and all it takes is for her to cross the crossroads for him to finally realize.)

♡ ྀ written in the stars

( ↳ shoto takes you out on a special date. a date that entailed love in all it’s bare simplicity. love in all it’s highs and lows, and love that is worth being written in the stars.)

➸ Eijiro Kirishima

Fics ↝

♡ ྀ  I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.

(  ↳ It is your 1st year anniversary with Kirishima. With no idea how celebrate it, Kirishima asks for the aid of Bakusquad and they have very interesting ideas and plans to say the least. Will he succeed and plan a perfect surprise for you?)

[chxrrysangel]

Stark Tea Time

Summary || Morgan Stark drags Bucky to one of her legendary tea parties, Sam leaving him to drown in pink fluff and glitter.

Warnings || Bucky actually smiles

You do not have permission to post my work anywhere else

“Lay up Cyborg, live a little. It’s not like I’m gonna di—”

“Look! Sam, I drew something for you!”

The two men’s attention is diverted from their conversation as little Morgan Stark comes barreling down the hallway, paper flapping in one hand and an assortment of crayons in the other. Her hair is covered in little butterfly clips, strands adorned with a wide array of colors from the chalk dye strewn across her cherry wood floors. She’s wearing a massive tutu, dressing to the 9s in a blue ballerina costume.

Sam smiles at the little girl, always excited to see what she has to offer. Ever since Tony passed, all of the Avengers men have taken on a father-like role towards the child, always making sure she feels loved and cared for. It’s the least they can do.

He bends down to her eye level, giving her his full attention. The smile on Sam’s face is in complete contrast to the grimace adorning Bucky’s features.

“What’s up sweetheart? Whatcha got?”

The little Stark giggles in excitement, overjoyed to see her two favorite Avengers come to see her again. They’re always quite busy, saving the world and everything. So each visit is quite meaningful to her. They’ll never replace Tony, but they ensure that his memory and love for Morgan is something she’ll never lack. They’d all die before that happens, and she knows that.

She takes the drawing from behind her back and lays it out for both of them to see. It resembles some sort of bird-like figure, Sam thinks to himself. Next to it is a robot-type figure, not failing to notice the frown etched into his features with a Crayola marker. Shaking with excitement, the little Stark looks at the two men expectantly.

“What is it?”

Morgan sighs loudly, annoyed by their stupidity and lack of “artistic vision”. The two men have yet to figure out where she learned such a concept.

“It’s you guys! Duh!” Their mouthes form into an ‘o’ shape in understanding.

“Well it’s stunning. It’s absolutely beautiful Morg. You know, I might have frame this one actually. When you become a famous painter, this is gonna be worth so much money!” Morgan squeals, jumping around excitedly as Sam praises her.

“I think it’s kind of ugl—” Sam cuts him off by sending a small electrical current to Bucky’s arm, causing him to hunch over in pain as he’s being electrocuted.

“What he was trying to say is that it’s very avant-garde, meaning unique in the art world. Don’t worry little Stark, it’s a good thing.” Sam smiles at her encouragingly, hoping Terminator’s harsh words back there wash over her. She nods in understanding, James’s words already long forgotten.

The two men attempt to continue their conversation from before, discussing details about their next mission. There’s a hostage situation in the Palace of Westminster, the perpetrators threatening to blow the whole thing up with everyone in it. But before they can really strategize how to scope out the place, Sam feels a tap on his leg.

“Yes princess?”

“Can you guys come to my tea party?”

“Actually Morgan, we have to go so—” Bucky starts to say before being rudely cut off my bird-man to his left. Sam shoot daggers in his partner’s direction and the words die in his throat.

“Actually, I have to go take care of something really quickly. But Bucky can join you.” At those words, Bucky’s head jolts in his direction, giving Sam one of the meanest looks he’s probably ever seen. But the big man is all bark and no bite, so Sam just laughs in his face. Bucky’s fists tighten at his sides, thinking of all the ways he plans to torture and murder Sam when they leave the Stark house.

Morgan, on the other hand, is practically bursting at the seams. Bucky doesn’t know this, but he’s her favorite of all the Avengers, especially because his titanium arm reminds her of her dad’s suit. She feels closer to him when she’s with Bucky. Plus, they’re both kinda stoic, but it’s only an act in her eyes. She knows that deep down, he has a heart of gold.

Morgan takes Bucky by the hand, dragging him down the hallway back to her room. Meanwhile, Bucky looks back at Sam, pleading for some kind of mercy or aid. Sam, of course, provides no such thing and only cackles at his best friend’s misfortune. He says goodbye to Pepper, promising to be back once he finishes talking to Torres.

Meanwhile in a certain Stark’s bedroom…

Morgan bounced from corner to corner of her large bedroom, capturing all of the items she needs for this special occasion. It’s not often she has a guest for her weekly tea parties, let along James Buchanan Barnes of all people. She has to make a good impression if he’s ever going to come back.

Standing like a dark looming giant,surrounded by tiny chairs and more pink and purple than he’s ever seen, Bucky is clearly out of his element. At 6’0 tall, he stands taller than anything in this room, standing neck and neck with the canopy bed in the middle. Morgan doesn’t take notice of his discomfort however, she’s just happy to have him. She whips around him, gathering her stuffed animals at the table and setting up the placemats for each guest.

Almost as if having an epiphany, the mini Stark girl gasps and runs out the bedroom, yelling that she’ll be right back. Bucky wanders around the room, taking notice of all the little trinkets and toys that he, along with the rest of the team, gifted to her over time. His lips contort into a ghost of a smile, reminiscing all the times Morgan screamed for joy every time they came bearing gifts. The gifts didn’t really matter to her, though. It was just their presence that set her heart into cardiac arrest and her cheeks aflame. They were her family.

Not soon after, Morgan returns dragging a more normal sized chair into her room. Bucky is surprised at this action, as the small girl is barely breaking a sweat. That is, until he noticed the two small gadgets attached the back of the chair, marked with Tony’s insignia. So little Stark is smart, just like her dad.

Morgan sets the chair down next to her own pink, fluffy and bedazzled throne at the head of the table. She sits down, motioning Bucky to take a seat and calls the tea party into session. Bucky’s eyes wander over the pristinely white tabletop, taking in the wide assortment of snacks. From shortbread, frosted oatmeal cookies, to cheeseburgers and mini sandwiches, you name it and she’s got it. The baked goods are Pepper’s doing of course, courtesy of her daily afternoon attempts to become the next Martha Stewart. Morgan doesn’t mind at all, eager to indulge in a daily sugar high as the designated guinea pig.

“Tea?,” the child offers, “it’s raspberry, your favorite.” James can’t help but blush as her consideration of his tastes. For a kid, she’s a pretty decent host. He quickly covers up his blush by coughing and nods firmly.

After filling up the China tea cups lined up around the table, Morgan moves towards introductions. “Bucky, these are my friends. There’s Mr.Whiskers, Genevieve, Fae, Natasha, Tony, and James. They’re very happy to have you here with us. They think you look quite nice today.”

James? As in… Bucky can’t help but blush again, honored that Morgan named one of her beloved stuffed animals after him. He smiles shyly, staring at the lavender Elephant across the table. The girl doesn’t fail to notice his smile, happy that he’s happy.

“So James, how do you feel about glitter?”

~~~

The doorbell rings sometime around 7:00, just after sunset. Pepper opens the door to a smiling Sam, carrying a mysterious box by his side. He just left Torres house, the two men agreeing to scope out the place just before dawn when everyone is still sleeping. That way, they can get a good picture of what it looks like on the inside without having to use night vision technology.

“What’s in the box?”

“Lemon Merengue. For Morgan.” Lemon Merengue is Morgan’s favorite dessert. So by bringing her some, Sam hopes that she’ll forgive him for taking a rain check on one of her illustrious tea parties.

“They’re still down the hall.” Pepper points in the direction of mini Stark’s room, before returning to her baking. Tonight, she’s trying devil’s food cake.

Even from down the hall, Sam can hear the chatting of two distinct voices, a deep scratchy one and a much higher, daintier tone. He shakes his head at Morgan’s complete lack of an inside voice when she’s excited. They must be having a blast in there.

To Sam’s surprise, Bucky actually seems to be enjoying himself. He stands in the doorframe, watching the two chat back and forth while a Disney movie soundtrack plays in the background. From the distinct piano, Sam recognizes Beauty & the Beast (also one of Morgan’s favorites).

Sitting down obediently, Bucky gives Morgan his full attention as she places puffy stickers on his titanium arm and adds little doodles to his real one. He smiles as he watches her drawing a picture of the two of them with princess tiaras and feather boas, just like they are now. She babbles away, telling him the details of the movie she wants them to watch together. It’s called Tangled, he learns.

Sam decides to leave the two alone, going back to help Pepper bake in the kitchen. Although, not before snapping a picture of the two together, reminding himself to print it and put it on the fridge. He knows that Pepper isn’t exactly the kindest person to be in the kitchen with, as she is very bossy and demanding. But he’d take that over ruining this special moment in the princess-themed room down the hall.

He can still hear the faint giggles and screams of Morgan, this time begging Bucky to stop tickling her. She pleads for mercy but he refuses to budge, only making her laugh harder and her giggles to bounce off the walls like they’re in an echo chamber. And to think, he was gonna say no earlier.

[kbuggg3]

JC Caylen Imagine: “Don’t Be Sorry”

Today's has been a pretty eventful day to say the least. While my boyfriend JC was out with some old friends who came into town to visit him, me and my dad got into a fight... again.

But the thing that hurts the most is not only is this the 4th time in a row he's been caught, but I'm the one that keeps witnessed it. Your probably wonder "the 4th time? Why do you keep falling for his bullshit?"

Welp. He's my dad. I'm not just gonna give up on him completely. When we would catch him doing something he would let fake tears fall from his eyes as he was apologizing to us and we would forgive him.

And then we'd catch him again, he'd apologize, we'd forgive him. It was an endless cycle. But this time I knew I can't get my hopes up to high anymore.

My mom always told me it takes years to build trust and seconds to destroy it. I felt that. He didn't only ruin my trust with him, but my trust with everyone else. I let everything that happened get to my head and now I have major trust issues. With the exception of one person.

JC Caylen

Before i met JC my life was pretty miserable. I lived in Florida with my mom and my older sister. After my mom and dad got divorced, my family slowly started going down hill.

My dad was barely in the picture due to his constant sneaking around as he was hooking up with random people and getting drunk and being so lazy that he never even bothered covering his tracks, allowing us to discover his dirty little secrets for ourselves.

My poor brother was clueless. Had no idea what his own father was doing behind his back and we didn't bother telling him because 1.) he was a very sensitive boy at the time and 2.) he looked to my dad for everything. My dad was his role model.

After awhile of all of this, my sister was diagnosed with depression. Not too severe but even the smallest bit can make you feel like shit. And as for me, I struggled with self love. Because I didn't really have a good male figure on my life I looked to guys for verification.

But after i spent a week with him and the rest of the O2l house at Vidcon i felt like my life was finally picking up. Fast forward a couple years and my sisters depression is gone, my brother grew up to be an amazing dad of 2 kids, and as for me, i stopped looking for verification in guys and me and JC started dating.

We've been dating for 2 years now and he has been nothing but amazing. I love him so much and I know he loves me. Ever since we've started dating people have been telling me they've never seen me so happy before or they've never seen me smile or laugh that much before.

I just wished he was here to comfort me right now. I haven't told him what happened yet. I didn't wanna ruin his day. He was hanging out with some old friends of his who flew down to visit him.

I wasn't gonna burden him with my stupid family issues while he was out with his friends. I turned on a random disney movie and began to watch as I continued to cry at random times when the old memories would pop up in my mind.

I would squeeze my eyes shut and burry my head in my pillow trying to make them stop but they never went away, no matter how hard i tried. Eventually I decided enough was enough. I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to call JC. I grabbed the phone and went to his name in my contacts. I dried my tears and took a few deep breaths to stop myself from crying so he wouldn't notice and be too worried.

After attempting to recollect myself, i pressed call, holding the phone up to my ear as i heard it ring. A few seconds later the line picked up and i heard his sweet voice on the other end.

"What's up baby." JC said in a super deep voice cause you to giggle only slightly.

"Hey JC. Um, I was just wondering when you were gonna be home?"

"Is my girl missing me already?"

"What do mean already you've been gone for hourrrrsssss." She groaned causing him to chuckle.

"I know baby I'm sorry. I'll actually be home soon."

I sighed with relief before responding, "Thank god!"

"Is everything ok (y/n)?"

Shit. Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry.

She sniffles a little and swallowed hard.

"Y-ya baby why do you ask?" My breath was uneven and he could tell.

"No no. Your not ok. I'm coming over right now."

Don't mess this up (y/n) he's having fun. Don't ruin his day.

"JC it's fine. I'm gonna be ok. Just go hang out with your friends. Have fun!"

"Gonna be?!"

I pulled back and cringed at my own words. Shouldn't have said that.

"Gonna be ok??? (y/n) what happened???" JC exclaimed again. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"JC I'm-"

Tell him your fine. He's with his friends. He doesn't need this right now.

Tell him what you tell everyone else in your life. Your fine.

"It's my dad again." I said with tears in my eyes.

What the fuck (y/n)! How could you?!

He can tell by my voice I was crying.

"Fuck. Baby I'm coming over right now." He side sternly. Was he mad?

"N-no JC it's ok really I-"

"No! (y/n) it's not ok! Baby he's put you through so much shit and I'm tired of it! You don't deserve that! You nor your family!" He began to shout a little and it caused her to cry harder. Not because I'm scared of him. But because he cared so much and that meant the world to her. He's the only one who gets it.

He did a deep sigh and you already knew he was running his hands through his hair and pacing, something he did when he was stressed, nervous, or in this case pissed off.

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in a few just hang on ok?"

At first no words were spoken. She didn't want to agree because she still felt bad about burdening him with it. But she was going to lose her fucking mind if he wasn't holding her ASAP so she finally spoke a barely audible "ok".

Immediately the phone call was ended. (y/n)'s phone slid out of her hand and onto the floor. She sat there curled up on her bed for awhile, staring blankly at the floor as her head was leaned on the head rest.

The thoughts and images filled her head again and she began to cry and cry and cry. "Go away." She whispered with quivering lips. "Go away!"

Not too long after the phone call she heard keys rattling as whoever was on the other side, who she assumed was JC, tried to open the door. She then heard footsteps quickly going up the stairs.

Her teary eyes slowly looked up to the door and saw the door knob slowly being turned, then the door opened revealing her boyfriend. In her mind she was smiling, finally being able to see him, but on the outside she unintentionally showed the opposite.

They made eye contact and (y/n) saw the sympathetic look on JC's face. She hated it when people would look at her like that and he knew it. He just couldn't help it. It makes her feel weak and helpless even tho those are the exact words that describe her in this moment.

When she saw the look on his face she quickly looked away, turning her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut as more tears slipped down her cheeks, slightly embarrassed by her fragile appearance.

She felt the bed beside her dip down meaning JC was now sitting next to her on the bed.

"Baby..."

JC gently touched her chin and moved it to where her eyes had nowhere else to look but his.

"I... I am so sorry."

After looking into his beautiful brown eyes, (y/n) finally gave in and buried her face in his shoulder as she sat in his lap in a straddle like position.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and the more she cried the tighter she would hold on. In return JC would squeeze her back, both arms wrapped around her waist. He then began to run his hand through her hair and draw small circles on her back in a soothing motion.

JC continued to whisper little nothings in her ear as she gripped his shirt that was soaked with her tears.

"You don't deserve this."

"None of this is your fault."

"You're an amazing girl."

"You're my amazing girl."

After a few minutes or so of them sitting in silence, JC asked her if she wanted to lay down and cuddle while they watched a movie. (y/n) could only nod her head as they repositioned themselves to where she was laying on JC's stomach with her face still buried in his chest. He put on her favorite Disney movie "Finding Nemo" hoping it would encourage her to lift her head and hopefully help calm her.

When she heard the music play softly from the TV she slowly and hesitantly lifted her head from JC's chest as she positioned her head to where she could see the movie displayed on the large screen. JC smiled at her and kissed the top of her head. Occasionally throughout the movie he would rub her back soothingly, play with her hair, and give her kisses on the top of her head or forehead, causing (y/n) to smile slightly.

"Thank you... Seriously," (y/n) said quietly. He was surprised at first, judging by the fact that neither of them have said a word to each other for about an hour (not in a rude way of course but because there was no need for words. They just needed time to think and relax). "No problem, baby. I love you so so much."

(y/n) look up at him, resting her chin on his chest. He noticed how the red puffiness in her eyes went down and there was not a tear in sight, causing his heart to warm and a smile to make its way across his face. "I love you too." They shared a short but sweet kiss and went to sleep cuddled up in their bed as "Finding Nemo" continued to play and lull them into a deep and peaceful sleep.

ngl I hate writing sad stuff (unless y’all request it obvi) but I got this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head so you’re welcome. If you have any requests and/or feedback let me know plz! Love y'all💋                                                                                                                                 ~Kbug :)

[yanderedbh-moved]

Kamski x F!Reader x Connor Polyship NSFW Alphabet

NSFW and yandere relationship below, please do not continue reading if this sort of content upsets you.

Word Count 3100

Requests are open, not just for DBH, I’m going to try and write for more fandoms in the future to prevent burn out, so you’re more than welcome to submit other fandoms if you wish! (As a matter of fact I’ve been on a MASSIVE Disney characters/villains kick right now... just saying...)

Donations are always welcome.

Link the similar N/S/F/W alphabet I made for a Connor x F! Reader x Kamski Polyship

Aftercare, are they very doting after sex?

Considering how Kamski is hardly the type of person to extend much sympathy or compassion to you without some kind of ulterior motive. Your expectations for him helping to soothe you after intimacy were low. This is not true, however, but perhaps not for the most wholesome of reasons. See, Kamski loves you in a rather objectifying way, as in you are one of his possessions, and he prides himself on taking excellent care of his belongings, you and Connor both. After sex, Kamski would help to clean you up, get you freshwater, a pain killer, some tea, anything you request to soothe you. He’s more than happy to oblige you with.

Predictably, Connor can’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve when he’s isolated with his lovers. Connor too, would want to help and get you cleaned up, but he would also be at your side, whispering sweet words in your ear, soft praises, and helping to put your mind at ease.

Body Part, their favorite body part of either their own body or yours

Kamski, like any craftsman, is rather proud of his strong hands, and by extension, the hands are always a feature Kamski can’t help but feel drawn to. Kamski can be a rather touchy-feely kind of person as well, so even if the two of you aren’t being sexually active at the moment, it’s tough for him to resist running his hands along your body and feeling your flesh against his. 

Connor and Kamski do share an affinity for the neck. Something about the thin flesh, your throbbing pulse, the body heat, it’s all so alluring to the men. Because of this, it’s nearly a constant guarantee your neck will be covered in bruises and bite marks while in their possession. While it may be a shame to tarnish such a lovely part of you, it will heal in time, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re ready for another fresh batch of scars and marks to cover your neck, collarbones, and chest.

Cum

There’s no one answer when it comes to Kamski. If he’s putting on a show, as in is taking you while he’s recording. (Whether you’re privy to this information or not) If he’s going down on you and another Chloe or two? In cases like these, Kamski loves to make a mess, leave you sticky. In private, it’s another story. The man is most meticulous with the cleanup.

Connor pretty exclusively prefers to cum inside you and wouldn’t really feel comfortable covering you in his seed, making a mess all over Kamski’s nice sheets. Your body is already so lovely in its naked form. Why would he feel the need to cover you up anymore?

Dirty secret

Kamski loves to record you during sex without your knowledge. Not just from Connor’s perspective, either. He likely has at least a few cameras set up to capture the moment at different angles. He imagines on a dull day leaking the footage of you like this, just to see how you’ll react. 

Connor finds the idea of you suffering from a complete and total mind break very attractive. The concept of a human, the one who he loves more than any other becoming nothing more than a braindead, submissive, obedient little toy for the deviant and his master to control. Another of Connor’s nastier tactics around you is isolation. Even though he does his best to appear the sweeter, more loving of the two, Connor punishes you by locking you away in the dark with no one to socialize with. To leave you so utterly depraved that you're practically crawling back to him, begging for forgiveness.

Experience

In a sense, both Kamski and Connor likely had little experience with human women before this relationship. Kamski occupying any physical needs of his own with the Chloes and Connor, never having a desire to pursue anyone before deviancy. However, Kamski isn’t the demure, shy type, and even if he may not have the most experience with a human lover, he’s been waiting and practicing for this moment.

Favorite Position

Considering how easy it is for Kamski to get in on some group action, it’s unlikely Kamski would simply identify as either a top or a bottom. He prefers more than one partner at a time. He wants to feel and experience sensations on more than one feeling all around him and is generally a more switch-type partner himself.

Connor, while still discovering more about sex and his own sexuality, generally prefers to face you during sex but is more than happy to obey orders and comply with whoever happens to be dominant in the situation. What Connor does know is he wants to touch and see you in all your beauty as much as possible.

Goofy, are they goofy or serious during sex?

Kamski really isn’t the kind of partner who would mess around too much before or even really during sex. He’s really such a slow and sensual type, the type of person trying to really commit to setting a mood.

Connor is less picky about this, however, if he senses one of his partners is really trying to set the mood seriously. He wouldn’t want to be disrespectful and ruin that. Though, if he feels you’re getting a little too intimidated by Kamski, he might try to “break character” and comfort you, promise you everything will be alright.

Hair, how well-groomed are they?

Kamski, who lived as a bachelor before he started this relationship, likely would’ve kept himself well-groomed “just in case.” He wants to sell people on his image of the perfect, polished, and well put together protégé. Leaving no detail unaccounted for. He, too, holds a preference for other people to be well-groomed. It’s a useful short handed way to show him you’re doing your best to be presentable, clean, and worthy of him. Connor, on the other hand, is nowhere near as strict as his partner is. However, he’d likely be more inclined to try different things or change details of his appearance if his partner were to request so.

Intimacy, Are they romantic in the moment?

It depends, with Kamski, but as for Connor, he feels most aroused and most in the mood for intimacy when he knows he’s the one giving you pleasure or when you’re the one yearning for him. Because of that, Connor is easily more inclined to take things relatively slow, communicate, whatever it is he thinks would work the best between the two of you. 

As for Kamski, he’s a bit tougher to read. Even as a yandere, and even if he is madly in love, he doesn’t ever wear his heart on his sleeve and is seldom easy to read. He likes to keep the tension high during sex and have your full attention on him, so imagine he’s more the type to shock you with a little rough play, draw blood or leave you needy and desperate after edging. 

Jack off, masturbation headcanon

Kamski is known for working long hours into the night or pulling allnighters in the name of productivity, and because of that, he feels no shame in relieving a little tension during breaks between projects. Even though he could use any android he desired to do the work for him, Kamski likes to watch the recordings he has of you having sex without you knowing you’re being recorded. Kamski is likely the type to flip flop between voyeurism and exhibitionism frequently.

Connor actually jacks off more than expected. As someone new and just coming into his own sexuality, he is still a little timid and self-conscience about some things and finds masturbation a more discrete way to explore and try out new kinks he’s curious about. 

Kink, one or more of their kinks

As mentioned above for Kamski, he flops back and forth between enjoying being watched and watching others without their knowledge. However, he also has an intense praise kink.

As of right now, Connor still falls into the “is willing to try anything once” in terms of most kinks. However, what he has noticed is the way he feels his arousal spike whenever your eyes widen and fill with fear. The way he can practically feel your adrenaline spiking is delicious to him and makes his feel so powerful and domination over you.

Location, their favorite place to get dirty

Neither would want to take you just anywhere, so the two would both likely agree the best place for intimacy is in the bedroom. However, Kamski likes to take you out to the pool and tease you while you’re in a skimpy bathing suit. Teasing you by undoing your top and brushing up against the bare skin of your flesh, pulling you onto his lap, that sort of thing.

Motivation, what are some big turn-ons for them?

Obedience! Not to say they don’t see the appeal in a bratty partner. However, compliance, weather forced or not, is just so pleasing. Connor loves explicitly when you’re begging for him specifically, as it really boosts his ego as a newly deviated machine. While Kamski, on the other hand, finds nothing hotter than watching you be taken by Connor, as well as maybe a Chloe. Both humans and machines under his complete control.

No, something they’re unwilling to do

Kamski is not ready to be a father. Pregnancy is strictly off the table. He might’ve suffered from a rougher childhood than one might expect, and because of that, he finds himself very taken back and almost scared around children. He doesn’t like the idea of you ever using the child against him, either. (Imagine if you were to ever threaten to leave with the child. He knows he wouldn’t be able to remain in control if you were to do this.)

As for Connor, he wouldn’t want to share you with another lover outside of the household. (It took him a while to come around to trusting the Chloes with you, but little by little found himself opening up to them.) He is also very turned on by the fact he stole you away from your past life and your old lover. As far as he’s concerned, your old life with others is over now.

Oral, preference in giving vs. receiving, skill level, etc.

Kamski and Connor both definitely prefer receiving. However, Connor wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself as well, and Kamski would like you to know what a capable lover he really is. 

Pace, are they fast, slow, rough, gentle, etc.?

Both prefer to keep the pace slower, whether this is between just two people or several different parties are involved. Though while Kamski may take his time with things, that doesn’t always mean he’ll treat you gently, and if you test him, Kamski won’t hesitate to lash out and teach you just what happens when you try and disobey your master. 

Connor certainly has the potential to get just as rough but prefers to not use physical force unless he really has to. It’s a subtle power play against Kamski actually because he knows, even if the two of them are keeping you here against your will, if Connor treats you gentler out of the two of them, you’ll subconsciously warm up to him more, and maybe even start to genuinely start to trust in him. 

Risk, are they willing to experiment?

Absolutely! Kamski loves to mix things up with the three of you to keep you guessing and unsure how to behave around them, and loves to analyze the reactions you give and learn even more about you. While Connor is just as happy to be the one to shyly ask you to try something new out on him, as well as to plot against you with Kamski. Both are equally rewarding for him, making him all the more difficult to read.

Stamina, how many rounds can they go?

Typically speaking, Kamski isn’t the type to limit himself to just one round. However, if you’re clearly exhausted or don’t appear to mentally focus yourself entirely on the sex, he finds himself far less inclined to continue. And he might even show you a rare moment of tenderness, snuggling your body up against his and making sure you’re soundly asleep before leaving the bed. 

Connor is somewhat similar to Kamski here. He tries his hardest to be very in tune and aware of his partners’ needs, and because of that, can pick up on any chances of going another round with you, or if he should dial things back a little and let you regain your strength and let you sleep, rather than to push you too far.

Toys, Do they own any toys, or are they averse to this?

It really goes without saying, but if there’s one thing Kamski and Connor are in firm agreement on, it’s being very in favor of the idea of using toys. While Connor isn’t too interested in porn outside of the bedroom, he might, out of curiosity, of course, watch and research to see what he can learn and try out on you and Kamski later. 

Neither would feel much shame about this either, considering they are both relatively secular men in their own right. They see nothing wrong with the idea of enjoying some more perverse technology to test out on you. While this is a massive turn on for the two, it’s also important to know, if they really were testing out some new gadget on you, Connor would urge you to use a safe word, just in case something went wrong.

Unfair, are they likely to tease?

It really goes without saying. However, Kamski is very much the type of person who would tease his partner. Both before and during sex. Even if he does prefer to keep a slow and sensual mood during intimacy, that doesn’t mean he won’t edge, tease or deny you to help get you extra worked up and needy for him. 

Connor is far, far less likely to act this way. However, if he’s being guided by Kamski, then he wouldn’t hesitate to obey his master and force you to service both men all night long without returning the favor. However, he’s much easier to convince to go easy on you, even if he may enjoy watching you struggle much more than he would confess.

Volume, how loud are they?

Kamski not only isn’t too loud himself, but he also has little interest in loud partners. He finds little pleasure in the idea of you screaming or overemphasizing your natural reactions. What Kamski loves most is the shyer, hesitant reactions he can work from you and Connor. 

Connor prefers to listen to his partner and hear what they sound like rather than drown them out with his own volume. Also, he might think it’s merely proper or more natural for the male partner to be so quiet, considering he’s been studying Kamski as a mentor. 

Wildcard, any random headcanon

Kamski, the mastermind, even though he cares deeply for Connor, wouldn’t hesitate to put him in danger as a means to get to you. Imagine a scenario where Connor was left to watch over you while he was away, and Kamski learns Connor let you out of the house while he was gone. Kamski wouldn’t hesitate to hurt the android as a means to get to you. Even if both men terrified you, Connor was by far the lesser evil here, and knowing that because you left the house, now Connor is hurt would really guilt you into becoming far more compliant with Kamski in the future.

X-ray, what’s going on under those clothes?

Kamski prefers to keep both his lovers and himself in high quality, practically tailor-made undergarments. It’s not that he thinks you need to be all dressed up to be beautiful, but rather, it’s the control he truly loves. The way he can order you around, as though he programmed you himself.

Connor is more than happy to obey here. He prefers to keep himself a perfect, loving image of his creator, considering it an honor to wear such comfortable, lovely garments. While Kamski isn’t too interested in seeing you wear his clothing around the house, he loves it when you wear Connor’s jacket, or if you were to let the Chloes style you.

Yearning, do they have a high sex drive?

Kamski is, to his core, a secular man. He’s never been the type to deny or to downplay the desires of his flesh, and as someone who sees himself as something of a god-like figure in this world, it’s only fair that he indulges in all the most refined pleasures life has to offer. And by extension, he likely sees Connor as something of a disciple to him and would want to show the fledgling deviant all the benefits of indulging in human desire.

Connor, as a new deviant, can’t help but be at the mercy of his own irrational desires. While he is allowed far more freedom to come and go and live an independent life than you have, he would never want to search out another partner sexually. Even if Kamski were to suggest matching Connor with his own personal Chloe, it’s unlikely Connor would feel the same intensity and attraction he feels with you two.

Zzzz, how fast will they fall asleep after sex?

Given his admirable work ethic, Kamski is something of an insomniac. He is no stranger to pulling allnighters, pushing past drowsiness in the name of progress. Because of this, he’s not too skilled at lulling himself to sleep. It’s possible either to see curling up with another warm body helpful to relax Kamski and is just the trick to help him drift off. Alternatively, he might just not be much of a sound sleeper, and even if you and Connor are curled up at his sides, Kamski will be tossing and turning well into the night.

Connor likely would want to stay awake for a little while after sex. He enjoys the way your warm body still clings to his body. Even in slumber, he treasures the way your sleeping body is so precious and tranquil, something for only him to enjoy.

(also, the talented people over at @detroitbecomeyandere have a lot of Somnophilia content featuring Connor. If you’re interested, give them a follow. They deserve it)

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 11

Day 11 - Pick your favorite Soulmate AU and write about it, it can be from this list or something completely different.  

(Balloon AU: you have a spirit-like balloon with the name of your soulmate written on it that only you can see. It will often drift towards your soulmate’s when they’re close by.)

Pairing(s): Romantic Logicality, Romantic Remile

TWs: Character Death (it’s loosely based on Disney’s UP, so y’all know whats going on), implied homophobia for a small section, unspecified heart condition mention

Author’s note: please forgive any inaccuracies in time periods and such, I did my best ;w; 

Also don’t let the tags throw you off, this story’s bittersweet but it’s really lovely, thank you if you do indeed keep reading, ily <3

–

They met when they were just children back in March of 1950. 

Logan Crofter had just come from the theatre after having seen the newest Walt Disney movie, Cinderella, when he overheard a commotion coming from the children’s park on his way home. He was always a cautious young lad but as he caught sight of his balloon begin to sway that way, Logan wasted no time in hurrying towards the sound of children arguing.

“Boys don’t wear dresses, stupid!!!”

“But it’s really pretty!!”

Logan arrived in time to see an older boy shove another boy about his age into a puddle, soaking the light blue dress he was wearing over a light t-shirt and dungarees. Upon realising the dress was likely ruined, the boy began crying. Logan wasted no time in getting between the two of them,

“Leave him alone, or I’ll inform the proper authorities!”

“.... You’ll what?”, the taller boy asked dumbfoundedly.

“It means I’ll tell your mom!!”

He was bluffing of course, Logan had no idea who the boy was, but the threat was enough to send him running. With a sigh of relief, he turned his attention to the boy in the puddle. Instead of crying anymore, he was gazing up at Logan in excited adoration,

“Wow!! You saved me!! Just like Prince Charming saved Cinderella!!!”

The boy wiped his face of tears and stood up to grasp Logan’s hands, “Thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!!”

Embarrassed by the overly sweet gesture, Logan cleared his throat, “You’re far too kind, I simply cannot tolerate bullying, I’m certainly no Prince Charming.”, he tried to assure the boy, “Truly, it was no trouble. Are you going to be alright, um-?”

“Patton!”, the boy, Patton, beamed.

A gasp left Logan, the name wasn’t that common, so perhaps….  “Patton Hart?”

The boy nodded, surprised, “That’s me-”, then realised, “A-Are you Logan Crofter!?”

Logan’s smile must’ve said it all as Patton threw his arms around him, “I can’t believe it! My soulmate saved me! I really am like Cinderella!”

“You are pretty like Cinderella as well.”, Logan offered shyly, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Patton giggled and took his hands. 

“Come on! I wanna introduce you to mama!! She’ll like you lots!!”

Patton was right, Logan adored Mrs Hart from the moment they were introduced. He loved the whole family with every member he was introduced to; it wasn’t hard to see where Patton got his shining personality from, happiness and warmth radiated from every one of them. Logan remembered the way Patton had introduced him to his parents and that summer he’d done the same for all his grandparents, his ‘tios and tias’ as he referred to them, and his many cousins who welcomed Logan with open arms.

He was grateful for such a loving family especially when his own disowned him. Logan had known from the day he finally brought Patton home to meet his parents - six years after they’d first met - that they would never accept his soulmate. Despite the majority of the world’s population accepting that the soulmate bond was a fixed infallible system, the Crofters had their minds made up that their son’s soulmate would be someone worthy of their expectations. Someone stoic and serious, not bubbly and energetic. Someone who was all work and no play, not someone who wanted to have fun and just enjoy life. Someone who was female, not another male. Logan hadn’t anticipated that extra twist of the knife but all the same, he wouldn’t trade Patton for anyone else.

It was hard being fourteen and having to turn his back on the family home he’d grown up in, but as Patton’s family helped him move his things into the room they’d painstakingly cleared out for him, Logan figured that feeling would soon pass.

--

Throughout high school, the two grew even more inseparable; Logan helped tutor Patton in math and science while Patton helped Logan with art and music. Logan joined Patton’s cooking club to support his cause while Patton would always attend Logan’s debates, captivated by his drive and dedication.

Another routine they’d started over the years was attending the latest screenings of each new Disney movie. In truth, Logan had lost his taste for “childish exploits” around the age of ten, but he would never admit out loud that seeing the way Patton would smile during their theatre dates made his heart race faster than any other sight on the entire planet. That was why for their 27th anniversary, Logan proposed to Patton during the double bill screening of The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh. He burned the moment Patton threw his arms around him in sheer glee into his brain forever. He would carry the joy of hearing his soulmate - no, his husband-to-be - cry out that wonderful “yes!” with him for eternity.

Sending out the invitations had been a nerve wracking affair for Logan, but Patton had assured him that everything would be okay in the end as he sent out his half of the invitations. He knew his parents wouldn’t show so he didn’t bother to invite them, but he wasn’t sure if his grandparents or distant aunts and uncles would. Aside from them, he’d never met much of his own family, most of them residing outside of the states. 

In the end, only his paternal grandparents and mother’s brother agreed to attend. Logan didn’t mind, he was just glad to have someone. Thankfully, his side of the church wouldn’t be too empty for the friends he made in his highschool years were more than happy to fill the pews.

Logan Crofter-Hart married his husband Patton Hart in the spring of 1981 after four years of planning and saving for their first home together. Logan’s endless studying and training to become a lecturer combined with Patton’s enthusiasm and drive to make money working at Foster’s Family Diner had all led up to this moment. As Logan placed the ring on Patton’s finger and promised to love and honour him - in sickness and in health, til death did they part - he couldn’t help but think himself the luckiest man alive. After the ceremony, his uncle and paternal grandparents had congratulated him, with the former asking what their next step would be.

Logan wasn’t sure about the far future, but at the time while he watched the love of his life dance and gesture for Logan to join him, all he could think to answer was “Simple, our Traditional Disney Movie Date.”, as he got up to indulge Patton’s request.

Said movie was The Fox And The Hound, and Patton, bless him, had cried for most of it. Logan draped his arm around his husband’s shoulders and softly wiped his tears with his other hand. While the scene where Todd’s owner sadly releases him into the wild played, Patton snuggled closer to Logan for comfort. Logan would deny that he teared up at that part too, though the memory of Patton humming the tune of Goodbye May Seem Forever would always stick with him even on his saddest days...

--

“Logan?”, Patton softly piped up as they lay in bed watching TV together one night.

Logan turned to face his husband, “Yes, starlight?”

“What do you think about...”, he hesitated, but continued at Logan’s nod of encouragement, “...us adopting?” 

The idea had indeed occurred to Logan. They’d been married only a year but he knew his husband would make a wonderful father. 

“.... Do you think I’d be ready, Patton?”, Logan offered unsurely. Patton softly removed his head from Logan’s shoulder and sat in his lap to properly apply one soothing hug directly to his darling husband.

“Only you’ll know for sure, but I think you’ll be an amazing father, Logie Bear.”

A soft kiss from his husband destroyed any doubt Logan had harboured. “Just imagine it, getting to watch our son or daughter grow up and get married someday! Ooh, or maybe they’ll become an astronaut! The second person to go into space!”

Logan chuckled, knowing Patton was playing on his fondness for space travel, “Perhaps, however, they would in fact be the fifth person to go into space-”

With a fond sigh, Patton brought Logan into a gentle kiss, one that Logan had no intentions of breaking to keep infodumping. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist, pulling him closer as if no amount of closeness would ever be enough. Another memory that would burn itself into his brain forever. Patton pulled back to his Logan with those puppy dog eyes that resulted in him getting what he wanted at least 80% of the time.

“So, does this mean you want to give adopting a try, Logie Bear?”

Feigning annoyance with a smiling eye roll and a forced huff of air, Logan replied, “Yeah. I guess-”

He spent the rest of the night returning Patton’s delighted kisses and listening to him ramble adorably about all the wonderful memories they’d make as a family.

--

The rejection hit the Hart couple hard; Patton even more so than Logan. 

Yes, he was just as crushed by the news, but Patton was distraught. 

They’d done all they could to be sure the adoption would be a success. Logan had been hired as part of the local university’s astrophysics division which did bring in enough money to allow the couple to renovate Logan’s old office room into a bedroom for their potential child. The day had been filled with laughter and, with some coercion from Patton, dancing along to the radio in between paint drying times. They’d been sure to go through all the steps, make sure their house was child friendly, even going as far as to secure references from friends and family in case they were needed.

Alas, some bad luck out of nowhere had been the first blow to the couple. After hanging on for a good decade or so, Foster’s Family Diner was bought over by a larger franchise and thus, Patton had been laid off with little warning to cut down the number of employees. The only comfort he found at the time was from his fellow staff who were devastated to see him go. The full weight of the situation really hit home when they realised it’d put enough of a dent in their income to make things a little less comfy for a while.

The second blow was the twins. Two young boys Patton had grown attached to during an Adoption Activity Day he and Logan had attended. Logan knew while he watched both boys painting his husband’s face with vastly different degrees of success, that they’d be the children Patton wanted to adopt. The boys seemed to love them too, going by their reluctance to let either of them leave at the end of the event. But the blow to their finances and the lack of a large enough room for twins had been a cause for concern with the agency, and try as the Harts might, they just weren’t able to get the room up to code in time.

Both boys were adopted that same week, and Patton further spiralled even further. Logan tried his best to try and cheer him up, but nothing seemed to work. As a last ditch attempt, Logan even requested to be able to be put in contact with the twins’ adoptive parents to ask for a visit but he was told, as anticipated, that the agency couldn’t allow it.

Logan refused to give up though. Using his university’s connections, he was able to find Patton a prospective new job; one of the researchers in the history department had a brother who worked for the local zoo. She assured Logan that with her brother’s approval, Patton would more than likely be offered the job opening they had going.

It wasn’t much, not really, but when he brought Patton to the zoo to surprise him with the offer of running the park’s souvenir shop, his husband’s glowing smile stole Logan’s breath away. For the first time in months, he heard Patton laugh with delight as he accepted the job.

--

With both of them working again, Logan put all of his effort into a new goal; helping Patton feel ready to adopt once more. It would be a slow venture; they cut out anything that wasn’t necessary and swapped the pricier items for store brands. The 80s rolled into the 90s and it felt like for a while the world would doom them to a life of endless saving, even having to eventually forgo their sacred cinema dates in favour of waiting for video and later DVD releases. 

But they were happy. 

Happy to have each other, and happily thinking of the day when they could try adopting again.

As the years went on, however, Logan began to worry. With he and his husband approaching their fifties, Patton’s hopes of adopting a young child to raise dwindled, knowing that they often gave other couples older children to look after. He knew Patton wanted to see them attend their first day of school, to teach them to ride a bike, to spend as much time as possible with them.

So Logan made a bold suggestion to Patton that night that they try again. 

Patton was quiet for a while causing Logan to fear it was still too soon, but his husband agreed that it had been long enough. They once more gave adoption a try.

--

The second time proved to be a charm and the Harts welcomed their son - six year old Emile - into the family in 1993.

He was an eccentric, curious young lad with a love of cartoons and biology; a perfect combination for the happy parents. Not that it would have mattered in the long run, they’d have loved their son no matter what.

Logan looked to the man asleep on his shoulder and their son who had also tuckered himself out watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with them. With a fond smile, Logan rested his head against the back of the sofa, catching sight of his soul balloon. It’d been years since he’d really paid much attention to it, but the name Patton Hart still glistened in wonderous golden letters set against the baby blue of the balloon. He glanced over to Patton, seeing that same cute sleepy face he always made. Logan wondered how, whenever he believed he had hit the maximum, he ended up falling more and more in love with Patton. 

The stronger the feeling grew, the more Logan felt like he could conquer anything, and he would do so in a heartbeat for his husband, and now his son too.. 

--

Love alone, however, couldn’t conquer all things. 

During Emile’s 14th birthday party, Patton collapsed. It was sudden and terrifying, but thankfully Logan was able to keep him out of harm's way until the paramedics arrived. Luckily, they were able to treat Patton at home, coming to the conclusion that heat exhaustion had been the culprit when they were informed that Patton had given himself little time to rest coupled with the unusually hot day.

Logan still wanted Patton to see a doctor as soon as possible, but Patton sweetly but stubbornly insisted he was fine. He didn’t want to cause more of a scene during Emile’s big day. Reluctantly, Logan let him make the final call, relief setting in as Patton went about the rest of the day as his usual cheerful self. Logan made sure to stay by his husband just in case, but the day passed without another hitch.

That couldn’t be said for the second time.

The call came for Logan during one of his lectures; Patton had been catching up with an old coworker from his diner days who’d come to the zoo with their granddaughter when he’d just crumpled to the floor without warning. Logan wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but the next thing he knew, he was parking his car outside the hospital and desperately asking the staff where his husband was being treated.

Fortunately, once again, Patton was more or less alright. When Logan saw him sitting upright in his hospital bed chattering away to a young girl in a hospital gown, he knew for sure his husband was alright. At least for now.

“Will you ever stop giving me a heart attack?”, Logan had sighed with fond exhaustion as he sat next to Patton with his hard carding through his soft umber hair. Patton chuckled and played with the blue tie Logan was so fond of, “Not if it means you’ll keep coming to my rescue like Prince Charming.”. 

Logan let out a huff of laughter, fondly recalling their first meeting. It felt like yesterday still…

“Does that mean you’re still my Cinderella?”

Patton tapped a finger to his chin and finally answered with a smile, “Maybe not. Glass slippers and fairy godmothers or not, I’d never leave your side for anything, Logie Bear.”

Logan wished Patton could have kept that promise.

--

The following years passed with a couple of stumbles along the way in regards to Patton’s health and still the doctor’s weren’t sure what caused his episodes. Logan was naturally worried; he and Patton were in their sixties, he knew that even though Patton kept bouncing back that one day statistically he wouldn’t be able to. That one day Patton would…

Logan didn’t allow himself to think about it. Instead he sat with his husband, enjoying the movie they’d put on; Disney’s UP. His attention wasn’t so much on the movie as it was on Patton. Every time he looked at his husband, Logan didn’t see the silver roots, eye wrinkles, and laughter lines; he saw the boy he’d moved in with at 14, the beautiful young man he went on regular cinema dates with like clockwork, the man whose excited tearful “yes!” still echoed in his brain no matter how many years had passed. 1979 felt both so long ago, yet like it was just yesterday. And now they were doing just what Logan had hoped; growing old together while their son was out in the world working as a therapist alongside his own husband. 

Logan had been skeptical of Remy the first time Emile had introduced them to his parents, but in spite of their sharp tongue and sassy attitude, Logan had easily grown fond of the person who would later become his child-in-law. Logan wasn’t sure if that was the term, but he did his best to keep up. He remembered the day Emile had come home from high school, excitedly babbling about his soulmate. Patton had been on cloud nine the whole time, and while Logan was just as delighted for their son, he was too wrapped up in admiring the happiness that radiated from his husband.

Goodness, when had Logan gotten this sentimental? He asked, knowing full well he’d always been that way when it came to Pat. He decided to tune back in to the movie only to realise he’d been lost in his memories for nearly the entire run time.

On screen, Carl Fredricksen had just discovered the rest of his late wife’s additions to her adventure book. The more stoic Logan of the past would never have been swayed by such a heart-string tugging moment, but well. The years had softened that stony exterior. At least, that's what he told himself while he felt tears roll down his cheeks silently. Patton’s gentle thumb wiping away his tears, drew his attention, noting that his husband was also tearing up. But my god, that smile. Logan could’ve stared at that sunshine grin til the end of time itself. Seizing the moment, Logan gently leant in to give Patton a kiss, which his husband returned in kind.

At that moment, Logan had an idea. It took a lot of string pulling to make it happen, granted, but he refused to allow anything to get in the way of his plans. 

January of 2010 saw Patton’s 66th’s birthday roll in, and Logan first surprised his husband by driving their old car, a blue 1955 Ford Thunderbird, into the driveway. It wasn’t in the greatest condition, having been kept in their garage for years, but Logan had secretly washed and maintained it leading up to today. It still had their cassette tape in the player; the Beach Boys’ Wouldn’t It Be Nice played just as it had back in the day.

The car was only one of the surprises Logan had in store; he’d found an old diner that, while it wasn’t much like Foster’s, was dedicated to capturing the 1980s vibe they were both familiar with. After a couple of milkshakes and Patton’s insistence that they dance together when the jukebox would play their favourite tunes, Logan parked outside of a familiar sight.

Their old theatre and origin of Patton’s nickname, The Starlight; it’d been renamed of course, but thankfully the former owner’s daughter remembered the couple from back in her father’s day, and so Logan had asked if the old sign could be replaced just this once. She’d done one better, adding a lovely “Happy Birthday Patton!” banner underneath. Logan wasn’t sure if hugs could be fatal, but the one Patton sent his way nearly crushed him with the weight of it’s love.

Once inside the foyer, Logan directed Patton to their private screening of Cinderella. He had wanted the same movie he’d proposed to Patton with initially, but alas, the owner couldn’t track it down in time, thus they went with the movie that had led Logan to his soulmate in the first place. The Harts sat in a comfortable silence throughout the film; they didn’t need to say anything, their intertwined hands and soft sighs of adoration were enough. When the movie ended, they began to drive home until Patton spoke up, “Logan, look!”, he gestured out the window towards a familiar sight; the park where they’d met.

The old equipment had been removed and changed  somewhat over the years, but the familiar landmarks were all still there. Logan didn’t need to be asked the question as he parked nearby and walked with his beloved towards the spot where they’d met. The small indent in the ground where the same puddle he’d helped Patton out of was still there in all it’s sentimental glory. Logan raised an eyebrow as Patton sat at the edge of the former puddle until he realised what he was up to,

“Oh no! I’ve fallen! And I can’t get up! Oh where is my Prince Charming who shall come to save me?!”

Logan had to stifle his laughter with his hand for a second before offering it to Patton, rolling his eyes fondly as he stated, “I’m here, I’m here, don’t worry, fair Cinderella.”

He helped Patton to his feet, stumbling a little but thankfully he caught his husband in his waiting arms. With a smile that shone like the gold of his soul balloon’s cursive, Patton met Logan’s eyes, whispering a soft, loving, “I love you, Logan.”

Logan gently brushed a strand of Patton’s hair away from his soulmate’s eyes, “I love you too, Patton.”

The two began to walk back to the car, hand in hand, while Patton explained to Logan where he’d gotten the blue dress he’d met him in when Patton stopped. 

“Patton? Is everything alright-?”

Patton’s breathing hastened, and before he could try and say he was okay, he curled in on himself, grasping his chest. Terrified for his husband, Logan called 911, doing his best to get Patton to the car to drive him to A&E.

--

Nothing was alright.

Logan stayed by Patton’s side in hospital when the doctors delivered the bad news. 

Heart failure. 

The doctor was apologetic the whole time - “I’m so sorry” “If only we’d caught it sooner” “Too late for a transplant” “Surgery would only prolong the inevitable” - but Logan couldn’t bear to hear it. The love of his life lay dying in a cold, sterile room when he should be at home; dancing around their living room, baking with him in their kitchen, laying next to him in bed as they held hands and regaled each other with happy memories and countless “I love you”s. 

The decision wasn’t difficult, not for Logan anyway. The doctors offered to let Logan take him home so he could pass in the comfort of his own home, and while Emile had tried to convince his parents to try for more time in hospital, his fathers both refused. Patton was stubborn when he wanted to be, and Logan even more so. They’d wasted three days with Logan having to stay in hospital with Patton, he wasn’t about to jeopardise any more time. 

Emile and Remy came to visit each day once Patton came home. Neither one would comment on just how tired he looked, but Logan could see the concern in their faces. They both knew as well as Logan that any day could be Patton’s last. Every time they left, both would hold Patton tightly, making sure to always leave with an “I love you, dad”, no matter how late it made them for an appointment or the like.

--

One night, Logan noticed Patton was sitting outside on the porch step in the early morning sunrise, in one hand was a pack of balloons, and in the other, some string and markers.

“What’re you up to, starlight?”, Logan questioned curiously, unable to stop himself smiling as Patton sent him a smile at the old nickname.

“Just wanted to try something, Logie Bear. Here, you can pick out your color.”

Ah. Logan understood, rifling through the pack for the right shade of baby blue to make his soul balloon. He and Patton had of course described their balloons to each other, “Mine’s this lovely dark blue with silver writing! Bold and smart, just like you, Logan!”, Patton had said. He watched Patton try to blow up the balloon, but upon giving himself a coughing fit, Logan went to get the helium pump he’d used for the balloons at Emile’s 14th birthday. 

Once both balloons were safely inflated and tied with some string, the Harts set about writing each other’s name in an imitation of their respective soul balloon. Patton wasn’t sure whether to write Logan’s married name or the one on the balloon, but Logan assured him he didn’t mind. With both balloons finished, the couple tied the ends of their strings together, Patton requesting Logan take some pictures with his phone to show Emile and Remy later. With the request indulged - along with some depicting the couple sat cuddled together with their respective balloons - the two held out the tied end of the balloons and let them go.

Bobbing in the wind, the balloons carried themselves into the sky, twirling in a dance as they soared towards the clouds. The Harts watched until they could no longer see the pair anymore; eventually just sitting side by side on the porch, their fingers locked together and their heads rested against one another. 

The morning was stunning; soft cloudy skies that let the sun peek through while a warm breeze drifted by. 

“Hey, Logie Bear?”, Patton quietly requested. His voice ghostly even in it’s happiness.

“Yes, starlight?”

Logan couldn’t explain how or why he knew that it’d be the last thing he heard Patton say, but he simply held his husband of thirty nine years, his soulmate since birth, even closer as Patton’s last words carved themselves into his memory;

“Thanks for the adventure.”, his stunning eyes met Logan’s one last time, “I love you, Logan.”

“You too, Patton,”, Logan couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks, “I love you too.”

Even as Patton’s grip loosened, as his eyes closed, as his breathing shuddered to a halt, Logan stayed with his husband for hours. He knew he’d soon have to break the news to their son before the poor lad and his husband found them still sitting together like always. But Logan couldn’t bring himself to move an inch. 

“I’d never leave your side for anything, starlight...”

--------

I’m not crying I’m SOBBING

This one has me in tears just rereading it to make last minute corrections, god...

Day 12 will be back to much happier themes, I promise!

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

[hamilton-one-shots]

Hamilton High School AU 105

A roar of shouts exploded from the living room as the game ended and Alexander was the winner.

“Hey, I’ve never played this game before,” John said in his defense.

“Yeah, but I still won,” Alexander gloated, moving to kiss his cheek and tutting as John moved away.

“No, you deserve to only kiss winners. As a person who just lost, that does not include me,” he proclaimed melodramatically before leaning against Thomas’s legs. “Your half of my kisses is going to be split between Lucy and Susan.” To prove his point, John leaned down and kissed Lucy’s cheeks, making her giggle.

“Yay! Johnny’s my boyfriend!”

“No boyfriends until you’re 30,” Thomas reminded her, though it was hard to keep himself from smiling at the situation. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d be there just laughing and freely enjoying himself with no hidden agenda, he would’ve laughed and thought about all of the wrong that he’d done, whether or not he would’ve recognized it as such. He knew just how lucky he was to have someone like John forgiving him and he was not going to ruin his chances. Not again.

“Alright, guys! It’s time for dinner,” George called out as he helped Martha set the table. “Thomas, you and Lucy are welcome to stay and join us.”

Thomas shook his head. “No.. Lucy and I have a long day tomorrow and it’s time for her to start getting ready for bed. I wouldn’t want us to just eat and go..”

Martha shook her head. “No, no, I insist! Especially with little Lucy there. Even if you don’t want to eat, she needs to.”

“Well..” Thomas looked down at Lucy, who looked back at him with pleading eyes. “Alright..”

“Great!” Martha smiled and set their places. “Wash up, then come on and eat.”

John was the first one to do just that and the first one at the table, digging into the beef stew and rice with Alexander close behind him.

Alexander wasn’t eating nearly as eagerly, but he was eating much better than he ever used to.

Lafayette and Hercules joined them next, sitting beside each other with their chairs pushed close.

Finally, Thomas walked with Lucy back to the table, helping her onto the chair before sitting in his own, letting his sister take the seat beside John.

Unfortunately, this gave her a close enough seat to see Alexander push some of his food onto John's plate, the latter completely accepting the offer.

"Johnny, Alex should finish his food so he can grow up and be big," she reprimanded, copying the words of her older brother.

John glanced between her and Alexander for a second, hoping to come up with the right words. "Well.. Alexander's a little sick.. He can't eat as much as me.." Alexander's serving was closer in size to Lucy's than to anyone else at the table.

"But won't eating more help him get better?.."

Alexander was eating more. He was getting better. But telling Lucy that would only lead to her asking how much he used to eat.

"What are you and Tommy busy with tomorrow?" John asked instead, hoping to distract Lucy just enough to push away the topic.

And it worked like a charm. Her eyes lit up and she seemed to sit a little bit taller in her chair. "Wash day! Tommy promised he'd braid my hair again!"

"Again?" John asked with a small chuckle. During the first try of their relationship, John remembered just how much Thomas had struggled with braiding Mary’s hair, at her request, with John and Martha’s help, so the idea of him braiding Lucy’s thicker hair seemed impossible.

“I can learn new things,” Thomas commented, playfully glaring at John. “Lucy isn’t big enough to learn how to do it herself and she doesn’t like other people messing with her hair, so I learned to do it for her.”

Alexander’s eyebrows raised in surprise, just a bit. He was still unused to seeing how good of big brother Thomas was. It reminded him of how good John was, but being sweet was something he could see from John, no problem. From Thomas, however... “I’d like to see that,” Alexander unknowingly muttered under his breath.

Lucy’s eyes seemed to shine with a new idea. “They should come over! I want Johnny to come over and you can show Alex that you’re nice because you’re a good big brother!”

Thomas choked on his water. That was the last time he confided in her. “Lucy, we can’t just take up their time.. I’m sure they had other plans for their weekend..”

Actually, Alexander had been curious about what made Lafayette’s hair so special that they put aside a whole day to wash it and he was sure that Thomas and Lucy’s hair was the same, so... “We didn’t have anything planned.. I think we were just going to sit and watch movies like usual,” Alexander added with a shrug.

And, for once, Alexander’s disagreement wasn’t such a bad thing.

John smiled a bit and nodded. “Well.. If he says so, I guess there’s no reason why we can’t go over.. That is, if we won’t be intruding.”

Thomas shook his head. “Sunshine, you two can never be an intrusion. You’re more than welcome over, if you really want to.”

“Sounds like a plan, then,” John said with a nod, squeezing Alexander’s hand under the table. He couldn’t have known why exactly Alexander wanted to go over, but he did know that it couldn’t have been easy to admit.

Alexander squeezed his hand back lightly, smiling to himself. “John?..”

“Yeah?”

Alexander didn’t respond, simply smiling widely down at his empty plate.

John smiled with him and kissed his cheek, making a mental note to give him a proper kiss later, before taking Alexander’s plate as well as his own to the sink, sighing contently. Things were good. There were a few complications, as there would always be, but... Things were going good. It was just a matter of hoping they’d stay that way.

That night, he and Alexander went to his apartment, Thomas and Lucy in their own next door, and spent their time quietly, enjoying the peace that they were seeing less and less of with every big obstacle life decided to throw their way.

In the morning, the pair got up and got ready to bother Thomas and Lucy for the day, taking quick showers and eating a small breakfast before going over, knocking on their door.

Thomas answered within the minute, smiling as he saw them. “Good morning, sunshine. Alex.” He leaned down and kissed John’s cheek. “Come on in, Lucy won’t let me near her hair without you guys here to watch.”

Said child ran out to greet them, her hair already out of the puffs that Thomas had it in before. “Johnny!”

“Hey, Lucy.” He smiled and leaned down, letting her hug him. “Alright, we’re here. Come on, Tommy has to help you do your hair.”

“I know!” she chirped, running around the apartment.

Thomas smiled. “She loves wash day.. It’s guaranteed quiet time with me and we get ice cream after, but I don’t know if we’ll have time for that, if she wants me to braid her hair again..”

“If it comes down to it, I’ll go get the ice cream, no problem,” John promised, stepping inside with Alexander close behind him.

“We’ll see.. If a certain someone can stay still, we can probably finish a bit sooner than that.” Thomas smiled as he watched Lucy run around and followed her into the kitchen, lifting her onto the counter and having her turn around before spraying her hair with a bottle labeled “Detangler.”

“So.. Can you explain this stuff to me?... I’ve been curious because of Laf’s hair...”

“Yeah, no problem,” Thomas hummed as he began running his fingers through Lucy’s hair. He explained the significance of each step as he went through them, Alexander listening intently. He wasn’t really one to care about that kind of thing - hell, he hardly took care of his own hair - but he couldn’t help but be curious about the way theirs was so different.

John simply watched quietly as the day went on. After all, Martha’s hair was similar, even if not quite as thick as Lucy’s. He’d helped her figure out her own hair routine when attempting to care for it the same way as John cared for his own hair simply wasn’t working.

Almost two hours later, the three guys were sitting on the couch with Lucy on the floor in front of them, her eyes glued to a cartoon on Thomas’s phone as he began braiding her hair.

“I hope you guys know that this is going to take a lot longer than the washing,” Thomas mentioned. “This’ll be at least three Disney movies, four if Lucy needs a break.”

Neither boy seemed to mind.

“It’s not like we were planning on doing much else today, anyways,” Alexander shrugged.

“Yeah, we were probably just going to do the same thing,” John added, pulling out his phone as it buzzed. “... Or not. Laf says they need my help with Francis.. Do you want to come along, Alex, or..”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay here. If Laf’s asking for your help with her, it’s probably make up related or something. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“You’re never in the way.” John smiled and pecked his lips before getting up, stopped by a voice calling him back.

“Woah, woah, where’s my kiss, sunshine?” Thomas asked jokingly.

John rolled his eyes playfully and went back, kissing his cheek and leaving before Thomas could protest.

“That guy,” Thomas said with a tut before turning to the remaining boy in the room. “Um... If you want, Alex, we can order some food, my treat. It’s about lunch time anyways..” He wasn’t sure how Alexander would react to the offer, knowing that they both knew about his eating habits, but it was better than ordering and just assuming he wouldn’t eat.

“... Sure...” Alexander responded hesitantly. He didn’t want to force himself to eat in front of Lucy and especially not in front of Thomas, but what was his alternative? To just not eat? He was trying to get better at that for John and not eating was not the way to go. So, he just ordered some Chinese food, letting Lucy and Thomas give their input on what to get, of course.

As that was happening, John made his way to Herc’s shop, heading inside and smiling at his friends as he got there.

“What’s going on, guys?”

Lafayette smiled as he noticed John, pulling him into the back room. “Hey.. Sorry to bother you, but Francis wants to try wearing crop tops. The problem is, she only feels confident enough to try it if someone else is... Martha said she would, but she’s on a date and Theodosia doesn’t feel comfortable with them and..” Lafayette hesitated, still unsure of how to describe his own feelings. Sure, it was a nonbinary day, but feminine things still felt so.. Wrong. Not bad, but gross.

“You don’t need to explain, Laf, I’m glad to help,” John shrugged with a smile. “Thomas and Alexander should be fine by themselves for a while, especially with Lucy right there, but I’ll let them know I’ll be gone for a while.”

“You are the best!” Lafayette exclaimed with a wide smile, pushing a few hangers against John’s chest before pushing him into a changing room.

John chuckled and sent Alexander a quick message before changing, getting a response a little before he finished.

[Alex: Ugh, y is sum1 always stelin u?]

[John: Francis just needs someone to help her feel better about wearing girl clothes] [John: It’s worth it, I promise]

[Alex: Wut cud b betr tan havin u?]

John sent him a picture of himself in his plain black crop top.

[Alex: Undrstud]

John smiled and put his phone away before going out. “Alright, how do I look?”

Frances groaned. “Why do you look better than me?”

“I do not. You’re just not owning it.”

“And how do I do that, Lafayette Jr?”

John rolled his eyes. “I can’t explain it, you just do. Just know you look good and that nobody else can change that. What, are you going to let some asshole who doesn’t even think you should be allowed to exist judge what you want to wear?”

Frances thought for a second before nodding slowly. “I guess I see your point... Alright.”

“Also, and Lafayette did teach me this one, posture is everything. If you walk like a bad bitch, everyone will know that you are a bad bitch, simple as that.”

Frances snorted with laughter, but straightened up her back and lifted her head anyways. “Like this?” She followed John’s advice and strutted across the shop with enough confidence to even make Lafayette step out of her way. And she wasn’t even coming towards them.

“Yeah, you’re ready. Now, we can go.” John high fived her and grabbed Lafayette’s car keys before walking out.

“Hey, I didn’t say-”

“Bye, Laf!”

Lafayette rolled his eyes, but smiled. Eh, they could get John back for stealing their car later. Right now he was doing them and Francis a favor.

[paintmearainbow]

What Is Love ?

Love.

Love means different things to different people. Some people say love is making your partner happy and seeing them happy makes you happy . But love, is actually a figment of our imaginations. In a way, love is selfish and makes us lose our independence. You make the other person happy to keep yourself happy, and you become dependent and vulnerable. It's a somewhat like a shared dream. And until one person decides to wakeup, and that dream, albeit fun while it lasted, becomes a living nightmare

1 YEAR AGO

For Harry and y/n; sneaking out of premiers and award shows,buying tacos and eating them at 3 AM was love. For them, love was dancing in the kitchen to Elvis and baking with each other. Love was watching horror movies in makeshift tents, snacking on caramel popcorns and cans of soda; all while making fun of Harry's "those dumb bitches" in the movie. Love was falling asleep in each others arms and reading each other books. It was dressing up as Disney characters and acting out scenes from their favourite animations. It was etheral, perfect. Almost too perfect too be true

People always said "Love will fizzle out. One of you will get bored." Harry and y/n didn't listen. They burned so fast, so bright and didn't realise that their spark too, like all blazed and sparks from lighted matches, had extinguished. One second it was burning so brightly, and the next, it was gone

..............................................................................................

"When was the last time you spoke to him ?" asked y/n's sister.

" A week ago" a distraught y/n replied. "He barely has time to even talk to me on the phone, let alone show me the sights and explore the places with him via facetime"

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes and all the memories flashed through her eyes, like a movie roll, playing over and over agai

FLASHBACK

"Y/N !" exclaimed Harry, the golden flecks in his eyes dancing with joy. Oh how she longed to see him, feel him and be with him in real life , rather than on a screen. Yet she was eternally grateful for Harry for never making her feel left out from the tour experience, he always made sure to show her around, even if it was only on a screen, while giving tour guide commentary in a horribly fake American accent.

"You're in for a treat ! We're going to see the Louvre today. Come on an enjoy the sited with Harry's Tour Experiences"

Y/n couldn't stop laughing.

Being an art fanatic, she giving Harry detailed descriptions of the art, while all he did was turn it inti a joke. His put on accent stood out when he kept saying " Oh shucks ! Here's another painting of a few women and men fighting and eating." He termed an entire style of art; renaissance art as "men and women barely dressed fighting and eating". He made a few sly comments on how y/n would look lovely in that dress. It was so wonderful and each of these virtual trips was marked with his signature end. Going to a park, and eating the same food.

His laughter was contagious and y/n loved it. She wondered how she got so lucky, so blessed to have hazza in her life.

She never thought that this love, would eventually fizzle.

end of flashback

Now she was lucky if he spoke to her for 5 minutes. Even those 5 minutes were filled with her talking and him showing least interest in what she had to say. She doubted whether he even listened.

Today, however was a low blow. It was y/n' bday. had it been any other year. Harry would've made this day perfect. They had been together since they were 18. The first year, he bought her 18 gifts on her birthday. The subsequent year, he got her 19 and so on. He would make her breakfast in bed and wake her up with showers of kisses and a "Good Morning, Happy Birthday Darling."

Today however, at 7 PM , she was yet to have him acknowledge that it was her birthday. She was yet to have any sign of news from him at all. She illusioned herself, thinking that maybe he had interviews to attend.

Her sister, however, tired with y/n's moping, said" You're coming over with your friends to Club 22 this night or else I wont speak to you. I don't want you to spend your birthday moping around"

With great difficulty, y/n was persuaded by her friends to go clubbing. The loud music, the drinks and the dim lights were never y/n's scene. Yet, for the sake of her friends, she fixed up a smile on her face and tried to enjoy, trying her best to forget than Harry's call still hadn't come.

.......

It was 10 PM and the party was in full swing. y/n's friends were drunk, so drunk. Everyone around her was laughing, drinking and joking. Meanwhile, a new disturbing thought had settled in y/n's head. What if he got into and accident ? What if he's really sick ? She was ridden with anxiety and couldn't get Harry off her mind, until that one fateful message from Nezza, her best friend, Harry's PA, through whom they had met, sent her that message. When y/n's phone lit up and she scarmbled to see the text, hoping it was Harry, she did not know it would change her life permanently.

The text was simple. "I'm so so sorry honey; you deserve to know" It was attached with a single file of pictures.

She subconciously knew what had happened. She had seen all the signs, yet chose to ignore them, not wanting to get up from her dream. The reduced duration of phone calls ultimately leading up to a call a month, the regular excuses, coming home late, half hearted kisses, they all added up. For a split second, y/n wanted to think that it was something else; maybe harry was too drunk or had passed out in a bar.

The message to forever to download. It was so slow and painfully excruciating. It was like the calm before the storm. The slow before the fast. The light drizzle before the thunderstorm. When the picture finally loaded; her heart shattered ever so fast. The pain she felt was numbing, yet somewhere in her mind, she was gald that Harry was safe.

There was Harry, his arm around the small waist of the redhead, his fingers entwined in hers. The same fingers which ran through y/n's hair multiple times, were now woven in another's hand. She thought her heart couldnt break more.

Fate was not kind to y/n.

She swiped to see the next picture, and she wasn't sure how, or whether it was even possible, but her heart further broke. Harry was kissing her in the booth, their booth, in Alessandro's the place he had her first date with y/n.

Fate had evil plans for y/n.

Tears streaming down her face, the makeup for the night ruined, y/n looked around for her sister and friends but they were nowhere to be seen. The only thing glowing right now was her glitzy dress, the one she had been forced into. Unable to take it anymore, she ordered an uber and left.

Fate wasn't kind to y/n at all

The minute she left the club, she was blinded with lights, the flashes from the camera, and the shouts from the reporters

" How do you feel about Harry cheating on you on tour ?"

"Did you expect this ? How do you react to Harry kissing a supermodel, younger than you!"

Y/n wanted to scream, but keeping her emotions in she pushed through the sea of people, got into her uber, gave her address and broke down.

She cried and cried. The uber driver tried to ask her what was wrong but she couldn't stop crying. she wanted the pain to go away. she wanted to cry. But most of all, she wanted Harry to tell her that it wasn't true and hold her in his arms and tell her it's alright.

But it wasn't. it wasn't alright. Far from it.

The next morning after an extremly broken sleep, y/n awoke. All the event's from last night wre remembered and her eyes started to water again. She switched on her phone to see the hashtag #y/ndeservesbetter and #harryandy/nareover trending. She also so 100 missed calls, voicemails and texts from Harry but chose to ignore them.

Y/n was raised to be strong. She spent most of childhood see her mom struggle to make meets end. She had seen the worst. She was strong. She went over to the mirror and saw her reflection and realised that she looked a mess. She took 3 deep breaths, washed her face, and masked her emotions, just as she did way back in high school, before she met Harry, before he changed her.

She went down and suddenly the apartment door opened. There stood the man who she loved, the man who had broken her heart, the one who still held her heart, no matter how broken it was.

He pleaded with her to forgive him. He begged, cried, said it was a one time mistake, and he regretted it, that he loved her; but y/n turned a deaf ear to his pleas. Their love had fizzled out, and she was blinded by affection not to realise it earlier. And as the saying goes " Once a cheater, always a cheater." Y/n wasn't taking any more risks. She put on a strong facade, made up her mind and left, leaving a crying Harry on the porch.

She wasn't over him, far from it. She was so broken, yet showed no signs. She had calm expresssion, yet her thoughts were chaotic. But she knew what was best and she knew this was the right thing to do. She had to take the lessons from this experience and move on, just like her mother had taught her. Dreams end, no matter how amazing it is, no matter how much you want to hold on and live it, and this, her perfect dream, had also come to an end.

So, what is love ?

A dream ? A nightmare ? Soemthing too good to be true?

Maybe all it is, is an illusion. A fairytale. Or maybe it is the truth, because truth teaches us lessons and so does love. i guess it's one of those things which just has no answers.

author's note

AND THATS A WRAP. I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING. it's something which definitely shouldnt be forgive . this the first ever imagine I've posted on my new tumblr. Please send feedback. Hope you enjoyed it. Reblog. What are your thoughts? i would love to hear them. Send requests for more imagines.

i should be studying but eh.

keep dreaming

ashu.

(here's a random B99 gif for no reason)

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder in the Dressing Room

Chapter 8: Because I Love You

Just a small note: im so excited for you guys to read this one you have no idea. going through the editing process this week has somehow made it my favorite chapter in the whole story i swear. Alright also need the routine stamp of Edited By @pathos-logical who made this what it is today i swear

Warnings: unsympathetic deceit, abusive deceit, manipulative deceit, toxic relationships,slight blood mention, slight medication mention, unwanted kissing, a litttlleee bit of unwanted touching.

---

"Hey there, beautiful~" A handsome stranger in a yellow button up smiled down at him, sliding into the stool at his right. "Can I buy you a drink?" Normally Roman wouldn’t have thought twice about refusing the offer, but the irritation lingering in his chest made him reckless. He traced his eyes over the man’s face, gaze catching on his green eyes. He couldn't tell what it was, but something in them made Roman want to say yes, want to listen to every word he said. 

… Just one drink can’t hurt, he decided, requesting just a diet coke while raising his eyebrows at the man. He didn't complain, which Roman took as a good sign.

"I'm Ethan, but you can call me Dee," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

"Roman," he said, taking the hand and holding it for a moment longer than necessary. He couldn't help it- those eyes were sucking him in and putting him in a daze. 

"So what are you doing here, Roman?" The way the man- Ethan- said his name made his heart skip a beat. "Looking for anything from tonight?" The way he smirked made it clear he didn't mean anything so much as anyone, and he was looking at Roman like he was the most beautiful man in the world. It felt good to be flirted with. Logan sure as hell didn't do that too often. 

Logan… 

"Me and my boyfriend are fighting," Roman chuckled nervously. “I just wanted to have fun for a bit and forget about him." Roman scooted away, suddenly rethinking coming here. He loved Logan, he just… got so frustrated with him sometimes. He'd spent nearly every day at work for the past few months, even his days off. He worked and worked and left no time for Roman. All he wanted was some attention. That wasn't too much to ask, right?

Ethan frowned like Roman had just told him Logan had locked him up in a tower. He leaned forward a little, seemingly unconsciously bridging the space Roman had put between them. The shifting lights of the club shadowed his eyes and threw the scar on his face into sharp relief for a second, making him look… dangerous. "You deserve better."

Roman laughed purely out of shock, a little taken aback by how serious he sounded. He tried to deflect, to take some of the blame off Logan, but Ethan steamrollered right over him. "You look lonely. Don't you want to forget yourself and be someone else for a night? Don't you want to the star of the show for a change?"

Ethan had seen right through Roman- hell, he'd practically read his mind, reaching down into his soul and pulling up wants he couldn't even admit to himself. Roman wanted to move back and put some distance between himself and Ethan- or maybe just the uncomfortable truth- but then Ethan smiled, slow and deadly as any poison. "A guy like you shouldn't be lonely tonight."

Roman’s breath sped up against his will. A hopeful grin crept across his face in a way he hoped didn't look too eager. "Maybe…" He leaned in, maybe a little more than he should. "Could you… could you make that happen?" 

Ethan… no, Dee, quirked an eyebrow at him, his smirk deepening to something lethal, and struck the killing blow.

"Anything you want…" 

And god, Roman wished he could have the excuse that he was drunk that night, to say he wasn't thinking clearly when this man pulled him away into his huge house and made him feel like he was the most precious treasure in his collection. To say he was high or drunk or drugged when he woke up in another man's arms wishing this movie star life could always be his. He wanted to say that he didn't enjoy that night, that he thought of Logan the whole time, that he didn't mean any of it. But he couldn't lie to Logan… Not like that. 

Street lights lit up Dee's face as he drove down the winding streets. He'd been quiet since they'd left the hotel; whether that was good or bad was anyone's guess. Roman sat beside him just as silently, lost in thoughts of the night everything went wrong. The first of many "worst mistakes of his life". Without even realizing it, tears began to slip down his face.

Dee's hand rested on Roman's knee, thumb rubbing in small circles but not moving any farther up his leg like they usually did. He glanced over and put a fake pout on his face, the kind he was so good at. It made Roman sick. 

"Why are you crying, baby?" Roman stayed silent. "We're going home! Don't you wanna go back home with me?" Dee took his eyes off the road to wipe off the tears, and despite being a sweet gesture, Roman could only read it as a threat. Everything Dee did now felt like one- he'd never be safe around him again, not after this.

He forced himself to nod his head slightly, sniffing and wiping at his own eyes. He was lying, but he had a feeling saying "no, I want to go back to Logan and I want you to leave me alone forever" would make Dee slam the car into a tree. Dee smiled at him, turning back to the road.

“Why are you doing this, Dee?” Roman asked quietly. He didn't know what he was expecting to hear. Maybe “because I'm evil’ or ”because you’re mine”- something he could understand, something that would make sense, at least with Dee’s twisted worldview in mind. What he did not expect was the soft “because I love you” that came from the man, sounding as genuine as it had all those months ago.

“Because I love you, Roman,” Dee smiled, cupping his cheeks in his hands, "and I want to marry you." Dee hadn't waited for an answer after proposing- he’d immediately slipped the ring onto Roman’s finger, pulling Roman back in when he stumbled back in surprise. He leaned down and kissed Roman, not caring that he didn't reciprocate, ignoring how Roman tried to squirm out of his grip.

Roman's mind was racing a million miles an hour. Marriage? He had been trying to work up the courage to break up with Dee for weeks, and now he thought it was the time for marriage? 

"Don't you think that's a little fast?" Roman tried nervously, putting his hands on Dee's chest in an effort to keep him away without showing it. "I mean- Dee, baby, we've only been dating for a year," he chuckled, trying desperately to keep his voice light. He looked down at the ring. The bright diamond caught the light, a promise of more of this picture-perfect life to come… The sex, money, clothes, attention- all of it was right in front of him. Everything Roman had ever dreamed of, and all he had to do to get it was say yes.

"Do you not want to marry me?" Dee's eyes held something dangerous in them, and Roman read the question for what it was- not a question at all, but a threat.

Roman stared back at him, trying to make his mouth form any words that weren't "of course I do" trying to say that this had gone too far, that he wanted to go home, to see his friends, family, Logan, all the people Dee had made him cut ties with. 

"I'd love to, Ethan," he smiled wearily, standing on his tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Even at that moment, he’d felt like he’d made a deal with the devil, and every time he looked at that ring he was reminded of the price he paid.

"How's your head, baby?" Dee asked. "I have some ibuprofen in the glove box if you need it." Roman wasn't all that willing to take anything Dee offered, but he was reluctantly grateful to hear it- getting slammed into a wall hadn't exactly left him feeling peachy. It could've been worse, I suppose, he thought. At least he didn't hit hard enough to dent the wall… or my skull.

He reached in the glove box, muttering a meek thank-you as he did. His hand hit against something long and thin wrapped in cloth, and when he peered in to get a better look, he was met with the sight of spots of dark red covering the fabric. He almost jerked his hand out and slammed the glove box shut, and only the knowledge that Dee was watching kept him from doing it. He slowly pulled out the bottle of pills, shaking so badly that he almost couldn’t unscrew the cap.

When his hands finally steadied, Roman took three and popped them into his mouth, wincing as he swallowed. While mumbling out another thanks to be safe, he vaguely made the connection that when Dee had apologised, it was specifically asking for forgiveness, not to make Roman feel better. Had it always been like that? No… He had to have been earnest in the beginning. Roman wouldn't have gone with him if he wasn't. Right? 

"Why are you so quiet, my prince?" Dee cooed, glancing over every few seconds to look at his love. His Prince Charming… 

"Hey, Prince Charming!" Virgil called, throwing a pillow across the room at the pair. "Back off on the PDA, I have virgin eyes." He dodged the pillow when Logan threw it back at him, laughing. He had started calling Roman that after he’d walked in on Roman serenading Logan with Disney songs in the kitchen, and Roman would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

Roman dropped to a knee, bowing to Virgil with a look of mock regret on his face "Oh King Virgil the Virgin, how will you ever forgive my misdeeds?!" He threw a hand on his forehead, flopping onto his back like a Victorian mistress who’d just gotten a whiff of her vivid green wallpaper. "My only hope is that you continue to let me rule over this humble kingdom under you!" Roman kept his eyes shut tight, trying not to break, but when Logan of all people started snickering, he burst out laughing and let the act drop. Virgil was laughing too, they all were, and that was the best thing about them. They were always laughing, everything was fun with them.

And now Virgil was gone… 

And now he was back with Ethan… 

Now he'd ruined it all.

Roman let his tears fall freely. Sitting beside the murderer of his best friends and his brother, it occurred to him- not for the first time in the relationship- how completely and utterly trapped he was.

"I'm just… thinking about Remus," he whispered, wiping his tears with the top of his shirt. It was only partly a lie; he wasn't just thinking of Remus, he was thinking of everyone. Remus, Virgil, Thomas, Logan- all of them were clawing out of his brain and finding their way down his face. But Remus was family, and hopefully that was someone Dee would allow him to grieve for…   

But Dee didn't look sympathetic. "You didn't need him," he said coldly, pulling into their house- no, his house. Roman didn't belong there anymore. "I did you a favor, Roman. Now you can focus on me." Roman must've done something with his face, because Dee's coldness turned right back to sweetness. "Now we can focus on us."

Roman nodded even though he knew that wasn't right, stomach twisting in knots at the reminder that he was the reason people died- that no matter how indirectly, it might as well have been him who’d killed them. That he was only here so Dee wouldn't hurt anyone else

"Remember the rules?" Dee asked, staring down at his passenger before unlocking the doors. The light, casual malice in his voice made Roman think of the knife in the glove box, and he nodded jerkily, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. They'd gone over them three times in the car; they’d been drilled into his brain by now. He thought he’d break down if he had to hear them out loud one more time, but- "Say them," Dee demanded, and Roman obliged. 

"One hand on you at all times." He started with the easy one, voice strained to the point of breaking to keep from bursting into tears. "If I run, you'll kill Logan. If I scream, you'll kill Logan." His voice was cracking. "If I call for help, you'll kill Logan…" Dee smiled at him, leaning in and kissing Roman sweetly as he unlocked the doors to the place Roman had once called home. Hand on Roman's back, Dee pushed him gently through the house. They walked through the living room, spare bedrooms, the small library, passing everything until they were in the very back. Roman almost lost himself in the haze of familiar scenery for a few minutes, but then-

"Dee? Dee, our room is back there, Dee where are we going?" Roman couldn’t help how his voice pitched up in terror, and his attempts to dig his heels in were to no avail; Dee just shoved him forward more forcefully. He threw open the door to the basement- the one room in this huge house Roman had always been too afraid to go into, the one that locked from the outside. 

"I have some business to do, my prince, I'm going to have to leave you here for a bit," Dee said with a fake pout. Nonsensically, almost hysterically, Roman thought that all his expressions were fake- nothing about him was real. Not anymore.

"Please don't leave me here, Dee," Roman cried, trying to follow him up the stairs. "Please, I promise I won't leave, Ethan-" but the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked behind him.

---

One thing that Ethan didn't mention was that no matter how closely Roman followed the rules, no matter how good and obedient he was, Ethan had always planned on killing Logan. Nothing Roman could do or say would've convinced him otherwise. 

Ethan was in love with the idea of Roman, in love with having someone beautiful to wake up beside and do everything he said. He loved having his little plaything, and one person was trying to keep that from him. And that just wouldn't do… 

The murder in the dressing room taglist:

@cataclysm-al @knightinsoftpastels @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality @nonbeenary-enbee @imbasicallyshakespear @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @incoherentfangirl @oofmood @nonbianary-pineapple @royalnerd829 @unicornlogansanders @magma-llama @chumo-cookie

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU - “Kurt Confronts Blaine”

This was another scene that deserved more than I gave it by putting it up unfinished. So if you want to read its finished, edited version, here it is :) Thank you all <3 (2325 words)

“Explain yourself.”

“Wh-what … what do you mean?” Blaine looks up at him, hazel eyes pleading and wide like a lost puppy, sitting on the edge of his bed, hands folded in his lap, back bowed as if this is all too much for him to bear.

“You know exactly what I mean!” Kurt originally thought he was going to be more patient than this, but the patience he had built up is wearing thin. He’d even worried that driving Blaine home, then following him up to his room, would soften his heart to him, bring old memories rushing back, make what Blaine did seem forgivable – a lesser offense. No, he wouldn’t kiss him or sleep with him, and not just because Blaine cheated – BLAINE CHEATED! But because Kurt has something in his life so much more wonderful now that he holds dear, and there’s no way in heaven or on earth that he would jeopardize it for the fairytale Disney prince boyfriend that was Blaine Devon Anderson.

“I … I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late, because you’ve already done that.”

Blaine nods, eyes drifting to his folded hands. “If I … if I explain, if I tell you everything, would you consider … getting back together with me?”

Kurt’s throat goes dry, and a simmering rage rises in the form of red splotches on his cheeks. “You do realize I have a boyfriend now, right? I mean, I’m sure Cooper told you. He can’t seem to keep his mouth shut about things like that.”

Blaine’s eyes close, his brow pinching. Kurt should feel Blaine’s pain tug at him, every wrinkle furrowing his brow should pluck at his heartstrings and make his whole chest ache. He remembers a time when nothing hurt quite like watching Blaine cry. Not eeven his own world falling to pieces. But there is no tug. There is no ache. “You can’t … you can’t be serious. I thought you were just dating Sebastian to hurt me.”

“It’s not all about you, Blaine!” Kurt snaps. “I’m dating Sebastian because I like Sebastian. In fact, I love Sebastian and he loves me! So no, I have no intention of breaking up with him to go back to you, a boy who broke up with me for the summer and then slept with someone else after just NINE DAYS! And when you did, when I felt like my life was over, when I felt like I was going to die, do you know who was there for me!? Sebastian! So, you’re going to sit there and explain to me what you did and why you did it because it’s the decent thing to do! No other reason!”

Blaine’s eyes open again, moisture clinging to his lashes, but he doesn’t say a word. Why did Kurt think this would work? That he might get some answers? And that it might be easy? This innocent schoolboy act of Blaine’s that Sebastian had said he found so hot really wears on the nerves after a while, Kurt has discovered. How did he not see it before?

Because he was in love. That’s the answer. So very much in love with Blaine that the feeling overwhelmed him. It felt like a dream come true when the two of them met on that staircase at Dalton, like the answer to prayers he’d never admit to praying.

“You know …” Kurt decides to start since Blaine is leaving him no other choice. He focuses in on something that happened at the beginning of all this that has bothered him since day one “… I always wondered, the day you left, when you drove away, you had this look in your eyes. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but it’s haunted me.” Kurt watches Blaine’s reaction to those words as they land and sink in. His back bows further, his head sinks deeper – a confirmation that the theories Kurt had been entertaining all summer were true. His eyes narrow with repressed anger. “You knew, didn’t you? Before you left, you knew you were going to hook-up with someone? This wasn’t a ‘let’s do a trial separation and see what happens’. You had a plan!”

“I didn’t!” Blaine says, finally meeting Kurt’s eyes, vehemently shaking his head. “There … there was a guy, but I didn’t break up with you to be with him! I swear!”

“But you were going there to meet someone, weren’t you? Someone you’d already met?”

Blaine sighs. “Yes. I … I met him on the camp’s Facebook page. He was … cute and flirty. I was … interested in him. But that’s it.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say – that’s it? What we had was love! Love! It’s supposed to mean everything! It’s not the kind of thing you can dump and pick up again when it’s convenient! That’s not how it works!”

“I know!”

“We talked about spending the rest of our lives together, and you threw that away for some guy on Facebook you thought looked ‘interesting’! And it only took you NINE DAYS!”

“I’m sorry, Kurt …”

“At the very least you could have told me the truth from the beginning instead of leading me to believe we were actually going to get back together again when the summer was done.”

“But I wanted to get back together with you! I didn’t want this break up to be permanent! That life we talked about – I wanted that to happen! More than anything!”

Kurt shakes his head, trying to rectify the idea that Blaine thought he would ever be okay with getting back together if Blaine slept with someone else.

The answer to that is so simple, Kurt is surprised he didn’t figure it out sooner.

God! Why did he have to be so damned naïve?

“You had no intention of telling me about your little friend … did you?”

“Well … wh-what about you?”

“What about me? I didn’t cheat on you!”

“Oh, really?” Blaine finally looks at Kurt, right in his face, his eyes red-rimmed with tears, but also with indignation. “I saw the pictures on Facebook, Kurt! From what I hear, you were dating Sebastian pretty much from the moment I left!”

So, it appears Cooper did tell him some things, but he didn’t tell him everything? Why not? Did he want Kurt to have the chance to tell him? Or did he, and Blaine chose not to listen?

“For your information, we were fake dating!”

“Fake dating!? What the heck does that mean?”

“It means that he was paying me to pretend to be his boyfriend! To get his parents off his back about … stuff!” Kurt refuses to go into any more detail than that. Blaine is the last person who deserves to know. But a spark ignites in Blaine’s eyes at Kurt’s admission, as if he’s found an opening. As if he still has a chance. Kurt rushes to stomp that spark out before it turns into a full-fledged fire. “But that changed. It became real … after I found out you slept with someone else!”

“I know I was with someone! I know! I know I hurt you and I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to happen but it did! I had every intention of coming back to you, Kurt! Of moving to New York with you, of living happily ever after with you! But I didn’t ruin that, Kurt! You did! You did because what you did was way worse!”

“What? What did I do that was way worse?”

“You fell in love! And with Sebastian Smythe!? You hate him, and if memory serves, he hates you!”

Kurt jerks back a foot, the words Blaine hurled at him like hands against his chest shoving him. They carry with them so much past pain, so much humiliation, so many insults and schemes and conspiring, all against him. But they don’t make him back down because if Sebastian has proved anything to Kurt it’s that people can change.

Sebastian has changed.

Sadly, so has Blaine.

“This was your bright idea! You were the one who said that if we could survive the summer broken up and still wanted to be together, we’d get back together. If not, if we decided we’re better off apart, then we’d go our separate ways. Did that only apply to you and not me? You made up all these rules that only applied to you when there were two of us in that relationship! You wanted to be broken up, so we broke up! You wanted to sleep with someone, so you slept with him! Now you want to get back together, and I’m supposed to dump a boy I care very much about to go back to you, just because it’s what you want!?”

Kurt wants to go on and ask him, ‘Did you think of me at all when he kissed you? When you were fucking him or he was fucking you, did you almost say my name? Was my smell still on your clothes, or did you make sure to wash them twice before you packed them so it was gone completely?’ But none of that matters anymore.

Kurt’s sorry it ever did.

“Look, Blaine, we loved each other so much. But we’re so young, so immature, made so many bad choices …” Kurt says that word we, we, we over and over even though he doesn’t entirely mean it. But deep down, there’s a part of Kurt that’s culpable. He let Blaine make that decision instead of taking ownership of his own feelings. He let Blaine command the conversation when he had so much more to say. Blaine controlled how they communicated, even with their mutual friends, but Kurt went along with it. The best he can do now is try to leave the hurt feelings in the past and let it go - not necessarily for Blaine. Not to make Blaine feel better. But so that Kurt can walk away with his head held high, into a future that he deserves … with someone he loves. “Let’s just … remember that and part as friends. Like you said. No mess. Just good friends.” Blaine drops his head and looks off to the side, turning his back on the conversation. It’s a signal to Kurt. Whatever he wanted to accomplish here, he’s done. "Maybe we weren’t meant to be together, but that’s not a horrible thing. It’s not going to … not going to kill us.”

Ironic, since that’s how Kurt felt for the first month Blaine was gone, but now he sees how ludicrous that was. He’s young. They’re both young. And this, too, shall pass.

Kurt waits for Blaine to speak - to agree, to argue, to try and win him back, to sing - but he says nothing. He stares at a far wall – a wall with pictures of Blaine and the Warblers and his family … and Kurt smiling back at him, putting Kurt’s words together. Or maybe shoving them away.

Kurt puts a hand to his aching forehead. Too much drama and too little sleep. He doesn’t need this. What he does need … or correction - who he needs, is driving back to Westerville this very moment.

And Kurt wants to be with him.

Why did he offer to drive Blaine home again? It’s getting harder to remember with every minute that rolls by.

Kurt looks at the boy in front of him - the boy he pined over; the boy he obsessed over; the boy he loved, for a while, more than he loved himself. But that’s over. He has someone else in his life that he needs to return to.

‘If I leave now,’ he thinks, 'I can get there only twenty minutes after Sebastian does.’

"Relationships are about trust,” Kurt says quietly. “And I don’t trust you anymore. Good-bye, Blaine.” He doesn’t reach a hand out to hold him, to hug him, to give him any comfort. That’s not what their 'relationship' is anymore. Even if they manage to become friends again in the future, even if Kurt finds some way to trust him, it probably won’t be about physical contact for a long, long time. That’s heartbreaking since Blaine has been the one he’s reached for when times were tough since the day they met.

Now, he has a new hand to hold, one just as sure and steady as Blaine’s used to be.

Kurt walks toward Blaine’s bedroom door when he hears his voice, shaking with rage, maybe some embarrassment, and thick with tears, talking to his back.

“Wh--what do you expect me to do now?”

Kurt stops with his hand on the knob, itching to turn it and leave. “I expect you to grow up. I expect you to learn from this. I expect you to accept that we’re over. And maybe, in time, we might go back to being friends again.”

“No.” Blaine sniffles through gritted teeth. “I … am never … going to forgive you for this, Kurt. Never.”

There’s a harsh sound in Blaine’s voice, one Kurt had only heard once before - when Blaine fought off Dave Karofsky in the halls of McKinley on the night they went to watch the New Directions perform.

When he fought Dave off to defend Kurt.

Now that anger is directed at Kurt, and it makes Kurt’s blood run cold. Not out of fear. In anger. In disbelief. It zaps any sympathy he might have had for Blaine straight from his body.

So much for not ending badly, Kurt thinks, remembering what Blaine said to him when he first told him about his asinine break-up plan.

“Good,” he says, turning the doorknob and opening the door, the relief he gets from that one action telling him it’s the right one. “Now you know how I’ve felt most of this summer.”

[how-to-survive-a-factory-tour]

How to Survive A Factory Tour - Chapter 10

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fanfiction

PREVIOUS

----------

The best way I can think to describe this wonderful room is this: Wonka took Sugar Rush from Wreck it Ralph, that bit in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs when it’s snowing ice cream, Sweet Sweet Canyon from Mario Kart, and mixed them all together onto one island. And the result is magnificent.

We’re standing on a dock by the door, and on the other side of a fizzy yellow sea is an island where everything is made from desserts. There’s a mountain which is a large tiered cake, hills that are ice cream scoops, and - if my expert Disney park knowledge serves me correctly - a volcano in the centre that is the volcano dessert from the Rainforest Café.

“Did I die? Because I think I’m in heaven…” Patton mumbles, eyes wide and sparkling.

Wonka hops into a small rowing boat with just enough room for all six of us. The rest of us all join him, and he starts rowing us across the sea to the island.

“Just like before, you are free to roam about yourselves. However, can you head to the east beach after fifteen to twenty minutes? There’s something exciting I want to show you.”

Patton leans over the side of the boat, dipping his finger into the yellow sea. He pulls it out, trying a little. “It’s lemonade!”

“Right you are!” Wonka responds. “The fizziest, tastiest lemonade in the world.”

Almost to punctuate the ‘fizziest’ part, Patton lets out a small burp. “Oops, sorry…”

“It must be rather powerful if Patton burped after such a small amount…” Logan speaks up. “Is it actually safe to consume larger volumes?”

“Of course! Nothing leaves the Inventing Room until it is perfect. The lemonade has been thoroughly tested,” Wonka assures.

I dip my finger to try some lemonade as well. However, as I do, I swear I see a dark shadow in the water…

Eh, it’s probably just the boat creating a shadow.

I sit back up, tasting the lemonade, and letting my own little burp out.

“Wow, Princey, didn’t expect you to be so uncouth,” Virgil smirks.

“Princey? Hm… I like it. Keep calling me that.”

Virgil just rolls his eyes.

“So we can just try anything like last time?” Patton asks, receiving a nod from Wonka in response.

“Nothing’s taboo, like the river in the last room?” Logan inquires.

“Nothing at all. No accidents have occurred in this room ever, and I trust you to be responsible enough to keep it that way.”

The boat pulls up onto the beach of the island. Wonka hops out, and we follow suit, the sand crunching under our feet. Patton seems to have taken the designated role of taste tester, leaning down and picking up a handful of sand, before pouring it in his mouth. “Crushed up graham crackers!”

“Correct again,” Wonka nods. “Now, go ahead, you five, you can go explore.”

Once again, like the Chocolate Room, we all go running ‍off. Patton’s trying a little bit of everything we come across. Virgil does the same, only going a bit slower than Patton. Logan takes a seat by a bush growing ice cream sandwiches, picking one off and eating. I walk around a little longer, before finding a large angel cake. I use a nearby chocolate shard as a knife and cut a slice, before going back to sit by Logan.

“I saw you getting all flustered over Pat on the boat,” I tell him. “You should really just tell him how you feel. By the end of the day, it’ll be too late. You have limited time.”

Logan sighs. “I know… I was going to earlier, but the flume on the boat ride ruined the moment.”

“You could do it on the beach,” I suggest. “Beaches are classic confession/proposal venues in romantic movies. And Patton said this room is his personal heaven, what could be a better time? Perfect romantic mood for you two.”

“I guess you’re right… Okay. I won’t chicken out again. I’m going to take Patton to the beach and confess my feelings. Surely it cannot be that diffi-“

“LO!!!” Patton suddenly runs over, and I think, based off his wide eyes and inability to stay still, bouncing on the balls of his feet, it’s pretty obvious he currently has a very bad sugar high. “You have to come over here, there’s a milk and cookies lagoon and it’s really really really cool!” He grabs Logan’s wrist, and drags him off before the other can say anything.

I chuckle at the two of them. They are two of the worst disaster gays I’ve ever met - they’re perfect for each other.

“I see Patton’s kidnapped Logan…” Virgil’s voice catches my attention as he comes over and sits beside me, eating a flapjack. 

“Yep. Those two are so cute together… I can’t wait to find my soulmate like those two have…”

“Ah, so you’re one of those kinda of people who believe in soulmates?”

“Of course! Don’t you?”

Virgil considers it, before shrugging. “Dunno. Never really had time to think about romance or boyfriends or anything. I’ve been too focused on work and saving money for that. The closest thing I’ve gotten to a love life is judging my friend, Elliot’s choice in men.”

“Boyfriends? I’m sensing a very non-straight theme with us tour members…”

“We don’t know about Ethan,” Virgil points out, but I shake my head.

“My gaydar is very powerful. He’s definitely gay. I mean, he’s wearing a bow tie and suspenders by choice, casually.”

“True… Hey, about Ethan, I think something’s off with him… I saw him whispering into some bushes back in the Chocolate Room. It was kinda weird.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Kinda? Sounds like a bit more than kinda… Or maybe he was just talking to one of the Oompa Loompas? They’re pretty short, maybe you didn’t see them because they were stood behind the bush.”

“Maybe… I dunno, Ethan just kinda creeps me out.”

“Wow, I wonder why. Maybe it’s because half his face is that of a snake!”

Virgil shoves my arm, rolling his eyes, yet smiling. I grin back at him.

“You do that a lot. Come on, you love me really.”

Virgil crosses his arms, huffing, but still smiling. “Piss off…”

I pout, resting my chin on his shoulder. “I’m sowwy, Viwgwil. Pwease forgive me.”

“Jesus, I’m not going to forgive you when you’re doing owo speak!”

“Actually, I was doing uwu speak. Very different.” I pause. “Wait, how do you know what owo speak is? I thought you didn’t have a phone or internet.”

Virgil shrugs. “I’m friends with Remy. One of the things he does on his daily coffee shop runs is teach me current memes and internet trends.”

“Huh. Remy’s pretty cool… He single?”

“Aro.”

“Darn… Oh well. The process of elimination brings me one step closer to finding my soulmate.”

Virgil chuckles. “You are aware there are, like, over seven billion people on earth. Process of elimination isn’t gonna get you very far.”

“Well, actually, half those people are eliminated because they’re female. Another bunch because their too old or young. Another bunch because they’re straight. Another bunch because they’re looking for sexual relationships as well, which I cannot provide. Another bunch because they’re aro. That leaves a small percentage of people who could be my soulmate.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, because it is going to take you forever to find them.” Virgil says, before reaching over and stealing a bit of my angel cake. I glare at him, before leaning over and taking a bite of his flapjack. “Hey!”

“Revenge, bitch!”

Virgil glares at me. I don’t realise he’s picked up a nearby cream pie until he slams it onto my face.

I pull it away and lick my lips. “Oh, it’s on.”

-

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! I LOVE this room!

I’m knelt at the side of a lagoon of milk, dipping cookies in it and munching on them after. They’re so good! Even better than the ones Ma makes, and that’s saying something, because her’s are amazing! 

Anyway, I keep happily eating the food that graced so many of my childhood bedtimes, and I look down to where Logan is sat on the beach, looking at a small stream coming off the lagoon and going off into the lemonade ocean. “You okay, LoLo?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking at this stream. It’s extraordinary… The milk from the lagoon somehow changes to lemonade as it reaches the ocean, avoiding cross-contamination. How does it do that…?”

Awww, he’s so nerdy and curious, it’s adorable! I just wanna go over and hug him tight, and never ever ever let go, and-

Is it possible to get drunk on sugar? Because I think I might be. Just an ickle little tiny bit.

Anyway, more cookies!

“You know, Logi,” I say between bites, “you should really try that lemonade. It’s sooooo good!”

Logan looks down at the sea for a moment. “I am curious as to the effects of having a larger volume.” He scoops up some lemonade, drinking it from his hands. He wipes his mouth after. “Wow, Mr Wonka was not lying about the fizz… I already feel gassy.”

I chuckle. “You look it too. Look at your tummy!”

Logan looks down, seeing is stomach is distended. Oh! I used a smart word! ‘Distended’!

“... Okay, if that amount did that to my stomach, there is no way higher volumes can be safe,” Logan says, patting his stomach. However, doing so causes him to let out a belch, which in turn makes his stomach go down. He blushes, putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh, um, excuse me…”

I, on the other hand, burst into giggles. “Sorry, I know burp jokes and potty humour are childish, but it always makes me laugh…!”

Logan smiles. He pauses, before shuffling over and sitting beside me. “Are the cookies nice?”

I nod. “They’re even better than the lemonade! Here, try!” I pick up a cookie, dunk it in the lagoon, and shove it in Logan’s mouth.

He chuckles, biting down on the cookie. “Hm. They are pretty good.”

“Pretty good? More like the best things ever!”

Logan just shrugs. “I personally think Crofters is much better.”

“Crofters?”

“It’s a Canadian jam brand, and my absolute most favourite food in the universe. It’s so sweet and delicious, yet is completely organic. It’s even better than the jam Wonka makes.”

“Sounds nice! I’ll have to try it out sometime!”

“You should. It’s to die for.”

We sit around a little longer, eating cookies and just talking. I tell him about my job at the bakery, and different recipes I’ve come up with. He tells me about his college and classes. I don’t understand a lot of what he tells me, but I don’t mind. It’s nice to just hear him talk… He gets so passionate when he talks about learning and school…

God, he’s perfect. Maybe I should just kiss him now… Kiss his soft, perfect lips…

“Patton?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I got distracted… What is it, Lo?”

“I, um… I wanted to tell you something…” He takes a deep breath, before reaching over and taking my hand. My own breath catches in my throat. I look back up, and meet his eyes.

“Patton… I know we only met yesterday, but I really really-“

“Excuse me, you two, but it’s been twenty minutes, we need to go meet Mr Wonka on the east beach.”

Logan curses under his breath, before turning and looking up at Ethan, who stands over us. “Thank you for informing us, Ethan. We had better get going.”

Logan stands, pulling his hand from mine. My face falls a little, but I push it aside for now, hopping to my feet and following him and Ethan to the Eastern side of the island.

After a bit of walking, Roman and Virgil join us. Logan raises an eyebrow at their food covered clothes. “What happened to you two?”

“Dessert War,” they respond in unison.

“You mean a food fight?” Ethan asks.

“It was too intense to just be a fight,” Roman replies.

“Who won?”

“Well… technically there wasn’t a winner, we just kinda stopped when Roman got a dark stain on his crop top and screamed that it cost a lot, so we stopped,” Virgil explains. “Which, if you forfeited, actually means I won!”

“Oh, you did not, I landed more hits!”

“Bullshit! That doesn’t determine the winner!”

“Does!”

“Doesn’t!”

“Does!”

“Doesn’t!”

That’s basically the rest of the conversation all the way to the eastern beach.

----------

NEXT

Remember, the ask box is always open!

Taglist: @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @clone-number-1 @pumpkinminette @why-should-i-tell-youu2

[billvsamerica]

Sin City

We’ve all noticed the lingering stare of a pervert.

On the high street when you’re shopping for Christmas presents or in the cinema when you’re watching the late night showing of Toy Story on your own again. But imagine you’re in a city full of them. Tight polyester trousers with flared bottoms, beer bellys flowing over the top of cheap plastic belts, topped off with a nice scruffy pair of Reeboks from the late 90s. But enough about my dad, this is the story of our latest adventure west.

A savory couple in a far from savory place

I always thought Vegas was a debauched place. That’s where it gets the nickname - Naughty Little Town for Naughty People. Prostitution and weed are both legal, but somehow in a much less savoury way than Amsterdam. With all that being said, we could never have known that the most morally reprehensible act we would witness would take place on the connecting flight from Chicago to Vegas.

Some of the most exciting parts of a holiday go on in the walkway of the airplane. Thoughts flood your mind: ‘Where will we be sitting?’ ‘What are my chances of survival if this thing goes down?’ ‘Who will the “third” person be?’ ‘Hopefully, there isn’t a “third” person!’ ‘Oh God, this things coming down, I’ve had a premonition. I need to warn everybody else on board.’ ‘No, don’t ruin it. It’s fine. You’re being stupid.’ ‘Oh, Jesus Christ! I just signed our death warrant.’ ‘I wonder if they have a TV?!’ etc.

Shelby and I took our spots next to the "third" person in the window seat, who we immediately disliked just for existing in a space near us, and opened our books: Shelby was reading an interesting book about the Appalachian area of America and taking on a challenging Sudoku puzzle. I was reading a different kind of book, still just as challenging though, the instructions on how to work the TV.

After the internal struggle of whether it’s okay to ignore the air stewardesses safety announcements, the passengers settled into the flight. The aircraft was not quite Wright Brothers old, but it was missing the mod cons of a transatlantic flight, like being able to choose an individual movie. However, it did have DirectTV channels. Shelby and I stuck on the Oscar nominated Can You Ever Forgive Me?.

I glanced over at the "third" person's film choice. I couldn't recognise the show, but the vibrant colours and teenage actors led me to believe it was some sort of kid's show. I looked at the man. No, it wasn't a large child traveling alone. It was definitely a man - a man wearing a tight t shirt that accentuated his man breast. I poked Shelby, she grunted her usual response:

"What the fuck do you want, fuckwit?"

She said, in a loving way though.

“What show is that?”

She glanced across at his screen.

"i-Carly"

"No, you Shelby. Now, what show is that?"

"It's called i-Carly. Now will you shut the fuck up?"

Bit weird.  Maybe he just put it on by mistake. Probably not watching it.

Fast forward three hours, I-Carly is still on his TV. And the man is inches from the screen. I looked at him intently. Does he not know we can see him? He's not in some sort of invisible perv’ chamber, although I'm sure those exist somewhere in Vegas.

I looked down to make sure nothing dodgy is...  Unfortunately, the man was definitely touching himself. Now, I'll give him a bit of credit. His hand was outside the trousers, but that only made it slightly better. Suddenly, it dawned on me - Shelby was in the middle. I wasn’t worried about her, per say. He was clearly into much younger people, but she might accidentally be hit with his flailing elbow or something. She looked across at him then up and me and mouthed,

"What do we do?"

For the last thirty minutes I tried my hardest to put the man off. I gazed out the window and loudly said a range of off-putting phrases:

"Wow! Look at that skyline," "Can't believe we're flying in the sky right now!" "Do you know why they stopped serving peanuts on flights? What about the people allergic to pretzels? Nobody ever thought of them!"

If that lot didn’t put him off, nothing would.

As we walked from the airplane into Vegas airport, we discussed what we should do. I was going to confront him, and say what? Don't do that sort of thing, you sick freak. I was going to grab him by the scruff of the neck, shake him and say,

“That's digusting, you sweaty little cretin!”

I was going to be the hero and stop all bad things happening forever everywhere... I... I... I picked up our bags and we got in a cab to Caesar’s Palace.

The taxi from the airport into Vegas took us adjacent to the strip. Huge replica buildings designed to look like other things. It’s all smoke and mirrors, a mirage in the middle of the dessert like the magic shows that run every night of the week. After taking a detour we didn’t ask for and racking up a huge bill, we arrived at Caesar’s Palace.

Anybody fancy a crap? (That’s not my dad, but a man in a shirt)

We walked through the modern building designed to look like the Colosseum - a gaudy Rome rip off - and bumped into our own ancient relics in the form of my parents. We hugged. They were here again, but their bags weren’t.

That night, we had a quick go on the slot machines, or as cool locals call them, ‘the slotties’ (and lost a bit of money). My dad became slightly enamoured with the virtual blackjack game, and then we all headed to bed to recuperate for the next day. The city may never sleep, but we were certainly going to.

The next morning, we looked out through our curtains at the view of the famous Belagio Hotel’s dancing fountain show, the Eiffel Tower, and a giant poster of Donnie Osmond. We had a fat breakfast, then walked down the strip.

Along the way, we ducked into a casino for a cheeky lil dabble. Dad spotted the virtual blackjack, and I saw his eyes light up. He was straight on it. We watched eagerly with anticipation as he turned his $20 into $5 and then into $25 and then into $15 and then he cashed out. With his cashed out voucher, I jumped onto a huge slot machine that I had no idea as to the workings. I hit a few buttons, and it flashed on the screen “Extreme!”. The lights started strobing and the lines span like the slick tires on a Ford Escort. My cash started building along with my adrenalin..  15-20-25... It kept going up and up and stopped, eventually, at $85. I took the money out and left the casino $85 richer because I didn’t give my dad his investment back.

What a start! Maybe I was a natural. Next stop, World Poker Tournament, but first, the off license for a can of beer that I could legally drink on the high street. It was like being back in Worcester on a Tuesday morning, I mean Wednesday afternoon, I mean Saturday evening.

The strip was packed with hen-dos, lad’s holidays, and waddling families who wanted a change from Disney. Me and my dad walked passed a man selling his hip-hop CD. I declined.

“Forget you then in your Bill Cosby sweater,” he said and laughed.

This drove me to grab another beer from a CVS. Inside, the cashier said,

“What a lovely sweater!”

Me and dad-livin’ it large Vegas

As you can imagine, I had very mixed emotions on the jumper and have not worn it since.

Shelby and mom stormed ahead up the strip, leaving me and dad to be awkwardly approached by dancing girls requesting a photo with us. It’s as if we looked like a couple of creepy blokes or something. We walked next to a bar where a man was strapped to a wooden chair and being forced to drink a strange green liquid by a woman in her underwear. Normally, this might be cause for alerting the authorities, but not in Vegas.

A group on a stag do walked passed us and my dad turned to me,

“Did you see that shirt? I need to get one of those!”

I had to tell him that it said “VAGITARIAN” not “VEGETARIAN”.  He didn’t want one anymore.

After walking the equivalent of a half marathon up and down the strip, Shelby wanted us to recuperate at one of the West’s staple restaurants, In and Out Burger - a place known for juicy hamburgers. We’d heard that they also had veggie burgers for the three of us who don’t eat the carcasses of dead animals.

Our number came up and we sat down at a table that had just been vacated. The remnants of ravenous tub tubs lay around and an In and Out employee was kind enough to offer to clean it up for us. She picked up a tray with the remains of a sweaty burger on it. In slow motion, the burger, wrapper, and discarded sauce tumbled off the tray and down, down, down, onto my dad’s cream trousers, the only pair he had as his bag was currently somewhere in Uzbekistan.

Turned a corner in Nevada to see the New York Skyline (and a rollercoaster)

This hilarious event only slightly made up for the fact that the veggie burger was two pieces of lettuce and a tomato between a couple of soggy bits of bun. As the name suggests, we were in and out of there real quick.

The next day we went to Fremont Street, the second most famous street in Vegas after the strip. A biting wind whipped through the dimly lit passageway lined with souvenir stores, Irish bars and strip clubs. Grubby looking men stood along the street staring wildly at the tourists passing by. They held cardboard signs that read quite witty things like “I’ll look after your wife while you gamble” and some less witty - “Horny!”.

A woman danced on a huge stage with barely any clothes on while a bunch of homeless people rocked back and forwards in front of her, totally unaware, it seemed, that she was there. An abandoned car with red flashing lights moaned and groaned as a zombie popped out the top. In fairness, it was advertising a local Walking Dead Exhibit, but I wouldn’t have been that surprised if it was actually happening on this street.

Having survived Fremont Street, I decided another dabble was in order (I was continually having these dabbles the whole time, but I’m only going to tell you about the times I won). I selected my machine, one without a chair that looked very old, and put in my note. The machine started to freak out and I knew I was onto another winner - $160 coughed up this time. I was a genius. A genius I tell you and definitely did not spend all that money very quickly in other machines. Ahem.

Join me next time as I recount the next stage of the adventure, our journey to the grandest canyon of them all and beyond to the red rocks of Sedona, Arizona.

[anony-phangirl]

Not Gonna Fall For You

Chapter 2: Movie Nights and Ideas

Chapter Summary: Virgil gets the idea during movie night with Roman. But he had to plan out how to ask him. And with no plans of ruining movie night, he decides to ask him the next day.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1199 + 84 = 1283 in total

Warnings: Swearing - for this chapter

A/N: Alright! Hi guys! I must say that there might be small fluff ahead? Not sure if it is tho… But if it has you squealing then CONSIDER IT!! :DD

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— — — — —

Virgil is stressed.

He only had about three days left, well two if the current day didn’t count seeing as it was already nighttime, and he still hasn’t packed nor does he have a fake boyfriend! What was he gonna do!?! He can’t just tell his mom that he lied! Nor can he he just cancel! This is Japan! A place he’s been wanting to go to for a long while now, he just didn’t have enough money nor the guts to ask his oh so wealthy parents for the money! Plus, the expenses have probably been paid and he doesn’t want his parents’ money to go to waste, no matter how much extra they have.

“What am I supposed to do Ro?! We’ve already asked our friends and they’re all apparently busy or have plans for the week that we’re staying there!! And I can’t just ask complete strangers to go with! It’ll be uncomfortable, and it would be extremely similar to being set up! What am I supposed to do??” Virgil groaned out.

“No worries Vi!” Roman cheered on as he finished setting up the movie for movie night, which was apparently the romantic comedy “The Proposal” since it was Roman’s turn to choose something other than Disney for the month. “I’m sure you’ll think of something!”

Then Roman walked over to sit next to Virgil, who was holding the bowl of popcorn.

A little into the movie, Virgil leaned against Roman, still pondering on his problems as he glanced at Roman’s face which had that cute little smile as he wrapped an arm around Virgil. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence between the two of them, their level of comfort was high enough for them to cuddle, or sleep in the same bed without it seeming weird or it being awkward afterwards.

Virgil smiled as he let out a sigh of contentment, the tension leaving as he snuggled up to Roman.

And that’s when the idea crossed his mind. But would it be worth it? Will he even agree to it??

In the end, Virgil decided against ruining the night with a stupid question, opting to just ask it after the movie or at least the next day, when they aren’t as sleepy or relaxed.

— — —

Virgil woke up in his room. Roman must’ve carried him there as his final moments of consciousness was sleepily leaning against Roman, the last thing he saw was a scene from the second movie that they were watching which was “27 Dresses”. It was the scene where the two main characters were getting drunk in the pub.

He sleepily rubbed his eyes, groaning as he sat up, checking the clock, it was 8 am; Friday; March 23, 2018. Which meant he had two more days before they leave for the trip on Sunday, March 25.

“Fuck.” He muttered, laying back on his bed with a soft thud as he recalled last night’s thoughts. He covered his eyes with his arm as he continued to mutter, “I have to tho. He’s the only person that I’m the most comfortable with. And if push comes to shove, I might even end up begging, offering to do anything as long as he says yes…”

He moved his arm away from his eyes, sighing. “Yup… That should work.”

And with that in mind, he sat up before getting out of bed.

Virgil went through his morning routine, first heading to the bathroom to wash the last bit of sleep off his face, then continuing on his way to the kitchen, dreading to see his roommate again, but for a good reason. He feared that this request might ruin the friendship that they’d worked hard to build ever since that day in the boys’ restroom back in high school.

“Hey Vi, you’re up early…” His best friend yawned as he walked in, stretching a little as he walked over to his box of cereal. “Have you thought of something yet, by the way? For your- thing?”

Roman then started preparing breakfast while Virgil prepared his own bowl of cereal, finding that it was surprisingly already finished.

“Have you been eating my cereal again Ro?” He asked, to which the other flushed in embarrassment, not saying a word. Yet another reason of persuasion for this. “You need to attempt to control yourself around that. One of these days I will catch you on camera ya know?”

“Alright alright…” Roman said, as he poured milk into his bowl.

Virgil let out a small chuckle at his friend’s adorableness, before going to the living room, setting down his bowl on the coffee table and taking a seat on the couch, Roman doing the same afterwards, before going back to the kitchen and returning to the living room with two cups of coffee.

“Cup of coffee to the best and most forgiving roommate ever.” Roman said, setting down a cup of coffee near Virgil’s bowl of cereal. He had the tendency of doing this whenever Virgil finds out that he stole some of his cereal.

Virgil rolled his eyes before remembering what he was supposed to ask his best friend.

“Hey Ro?” Virgil nervously asked, looking over at his roommate who had taken a seat next to him.

“Yeah?” Roman asked, looking up from the remote to face Virgil. “You want to watch something else?”

“No. No I-” Virgil gulped before continuing, “I think I found the person who could pretend to be my boyfriend throughout the trip…”

“Oh?” Roman said, intrigued by the sudden announcement. “Really? Who would that be?”

“Yeah, I- I just thought…” Virgil paused, taking a deep breath to stop himself from stuttering even more. “I just thought that maybe, you’d be the perfect person to go to this thing with…”

When Roman didn’t reply, Virgil continued. “It’s just that you’re my best friend! And you wouldn’t have to be alone here, not that you couldn’t handle yourself. Plus! We get to hang out in the place that we’ve been saving for and wanting to go to for a few years now! We might actually enjoy the trip despite the romance that my family might engage us in…”

Then silence, as Roman thought about it. It did seem like a worthy plan, they were best friends after all, and there have been so many instances where people had thought them to be a couple with how sweet their teasing and banter was. And the fake dating was a huge plus to this seeing as Roman might never actually experience being Virgil’s real boyfriend…

“Okay…” Roman finally spoke, smiling as his best friend’s tense form relaxed. “I’ll do this but you have to share your cereal with me for at least an entire month!”

“Alright, deal!” Virgil said, smiling widely, his voice showing obvious relief. “Thank you so much Ro! I owe you a whole lot more than just cereal for a month so, if there is anything else I can do in return, I’ll do it.”

Roman nodded, releasing a small giggle at his crush’s giddiness and excitement. “Alright Vi, whatever you say.”

God, this boy is gonna be the death of him.

[forsythiias-blog]

heyy there !! im rachel ( so new to being twenty i keep accidentally saying im nineteen / she & her pronouns / gmt ), and im gonna be bringing this lil serpent bb to life !! i hope y’all like her as much as i do, and if u wanna plot or anything, pls just hit that like !! 

*　benedetta gargari, cisfemale, she/her, canon　━━　riverdale’s very own FORSYTHIA PARTHENIA JONES is now nineteen years old. she has lived in town for all of her life, bar a few years break, and pop never forgot her regular ━ fried chicken, chilli fries and a cold nehi on the side. you’ll likely find the student and part time waitress hanging around pops / the speakeasy, probably playing whats new pussycat twelve consecutive times on the jukebox or trying to survive her coursework. her friends on the southside will tell you all about how she’s individualistic, tenacious and morally sound, but others might describe her as loquacious or acerbic. oh well, no matter how you feel about jb / jellybean, you can’t deny that with her debate skills, she’s gonna be one hell of a lawyer someday. you can check out her pinterest board HERE !

   it's the heat that drives the light, it's the fire that ignites,     it's not the waking, it’s the RISING.

part one of three : bullet point history. trigger warnings for talk of infant health issues. 

im gonna have to uh. ask for forgiveness in advance cause riverdale has nOT given ya girl a lot to work with in regards to jellybean, and the comics are another mess altogether. this is a history steeped in headcanon to flesh out what’s non-existent in canon, which i hope is all ok !!!!!!!!!! 

august fifth, nineteen years ago. it was a sticky autumn night when forsythia parthenia jones entered the world with a pitiful cry - the only daughter of two southsiders, gladys and fp and the younger sister of jughead, she wasn't born to MUCH... which made all that she did have matter all the more. a mother and a father that loved her? check. an older brother she would someday idolize like no other? double check. a small ventricular septal defect, discovered only after her birth? triple check.

forsythia was, it seemed, destined to be a sickly child. her first few months of life were dotted with trips to the emergency room and visits to the family doctor, something always seeming to be wrong. infant colic was ten times worse. she caught a chill when she was two weeks old, and needed to spend a week in icu because of the resulting chest infection. the doctors who treated her at birth had been confident that over time, the hole in her heart - jellybean shaped, on the first ultrasound - would close by itself, as many do. however, it DIDN'T... and as she got older, the effects of this became more and more pronounced. she kept suffering chest infections. she wasn't putting on weight. breathing was, at times, a struggle - and she was sleepier than any baby they had ever known before. the original plan had been to wait and see and hope that forsythia's heart healed. at ten months old, when it became apparent that this wouldn't happen, she had to have a surgery.

your baby is supposed to be perfect. she's not supposed to take ill every few days, and ultimately require open heart surgery. it was likely a very HARROWING experience, and those first few months of forsythia's life were understandably marred... but if there had been any doubts before, it became clearer than day when she came out of surgery that the youngest jones was a FIGHTER, through and through. they'd been prepared for a month long wait to bring her home - it ended up only being a fortnight. she didn't cry, after. she didn't FUSS. it was like she knew the first while had been tough, and was hellbent on making everyone's lives a little bit easier, afterwards. lord knew the jones' needed it, considering the stress of her early months was just ON TOP of the stress of money. 

now affectionately named jellybean after the defect she had survived, she grew to be a remarkably NORMAL child. there were some differences, of course, between her and the kids she grew up with - she required regular checkups, she needed to dress extra warmly in winter, and she always got a bit more wiped out than everyone else - but anyone told the story behind the scar in the middle of her chest gaped in SHOCK. the girl who swung from the lower boughs of the trees at the edge of sunnyside trailer park and sprinted after her friends full speed had once had a hole in her heart? impossible! that sort of health issue was associated only with those that had a lot less LIFE to them than the high-spirited girl that jellybean was known as, and never once did she allow it to define her. she was a SPITFIRE, pure and simple, and she's proud to say that never once did she sit out of an experience.

life wasn't all sunshine and adventure, though. not every child notices cracks in their home life as they're appearing. jellybean didn't - not until the rug was pulled right out from under her feet. to her wide eyed and rose colored self, everything seemed to happen over night. one day, she and her family were happy. the next, her dad had become an alcoholic, and she and her mum were in transit to toledo. she didn't UNDERSTAND the why of it all - couldn't have even hoped to, when she was still so young. the reality of her father losing his job and their lives going to shit thanks to it didn't sink in. all she knew was that she had lost the father she idealized and the big brother she wanted to BE.

she spoke to them both on the phone, of course. she was even lucky enough to see jughead a couple times - it must have been jarring for him, the first time he turned up to see that the pigtailed little girl who loved kids pop that he remembered had sheared her hair overnight and now listening strictly to pink floyd and the other classics - but it wasn't the SAME. it wasn't having their family together. to say her drastic transformation might have stemmed from a place of resentment towards whatever forces were at play in the ruining of her family wouldn't have been incorrect. jb wanted things to go back to NORMAL. it taking so long to do so killed her.

and what killed her more was that they never really did. she and her mom returned to riverdale, finally, but things never went back to how they were BEFORE. she learned not to talk about it, though, and now... well. NOW she's older, and wiser, and she knows how to hide her real feelings behind an easy bluff. there's nothing to do but make the most of what she does have and stop dwelling on what she used to, she supposes, so that's really all she's doing. 

part two of three : headcanons.

first things first - law. jb hasn’t always wanted to be a lawyer. scratch that: she never wanted to be one, right up until she announced it was her chosen major. when she was still in single digits, she wanted to be a real life PRINCESS. no reason, per say, other than overhearing some of the older serpents sarcastically referring to the jones’ as southside royalty, and really running with it. when she hit doubles, though, and started growing up, jb decided ( right around the time she chose to shorten her jellybean nickname ) that what she wanted more than ANYTHING was to own a record shop. nothing too extravagant, really, just a first floor, one room sorta deal - she’d plaster the walls with posters of the greats and keep the merchandise in crates resting on rickety tables, and every friday night she’d hold a jams night where people could come and lounge around the floor on beanie bags, listening to some of their favorites. she had it all planned, and it’s still something of a dream - but if there’s one thing that jones’ family knows how to do, it’s sacrifice dreams for reality. with penny peabody DISGRACED, the serpents and southsiders in general need someone who knows them to represent them, when things go to trial, and feeling a sense of duty to the people she was raised around, jb bit the bullet and stepped up. she’s got a love for arguing and a knack for winning, so much so that god HELP whoever goes against her in a courtroom, someday - but it’s more a duty thing than it is her passion. 

she has yet to officially join the serpents ( reasons tbd, though it’s not for lack of WANT ) - but jb went right ahead and got a tattoo on her right hand anyway, cause as a jones, she’s still serpent adjacent. the only difference between the picture linked and the one she has is that hers is done in white ink - her way of keeping things lowkey while still honoring her heritage.

miss her with a motorbike. they’re COOL and all, but jb values her life a little bit too much to trust a two wheeled death trip waiting to happen. she’s more into classic cars, anyway, and has pretty recently invested in the frame of a 1979 pontiac gto from the scrapyard, that she plans on fixing up to perfection.

her style is southside meets cute. of course she loves her leather and fishnet combos - but jb is ALSO a huge fan of dungarees and sloganed t-shirts in a whole assortment of colors. anything ‘edgy’ she wears ( big boots, mesh tops, the list .. could go on ) gets coupled with something a little less so ( pink scrunchies, colorful makeup, a disney bag ... again, the list could go on ), and that makes her her. 

and finally, for now, cause i’m not sure i’ve done a good job of conveying it - jellybean is a good kid. she REALLY, truly is. she’s got some bite to her ( enough of a short fuse that it’s advisable not to test her limit ) & wouldn’t be her fathers daughter if she DIDN’T, but she’s also genuinely sweet. being a serpent doesn’t equal being a bitch, and so long as people out there treat her with respect, she’ll do the SAME. jb doesn’t turn unless she’s given reason to ... and if they do, she won’t hold back. 

part three of three : wanted connections. 

kids from the south ( or north ) side that are in or around the same age, who jellybean would have grown up with / went to school with !! they might have reconnected after she returned to riverdale and now know her as who she’s become, but they also might be people who she lost contact with for a LONG TIME and who never got to see her post transformation - any and all variance on this wc would be fun! 

anyone attending riverdale college who she might, maybe, rub shoulders with !! i don’t know if there are any other law students here, but i’d still love the most mundane of connections - maybe they sit with each other during lunch, or they help each other study, or one time, jb dropped a book on their head in the library and they’ve been friends / enemies since! gimme anything !

regulars at pops / the speakeasy. so .. jb is pretty self sufficient, and she’s paying her way in terms of college by working shifts at pops and picking up extras in the speakeasy. she’d know a lot of people from that, i’d wager, and i’m sure she has her favorites! 

more people southside serpent adjacent who she can play off of !! one of jb’s goals in life is to become an OFFICIAL member of the gang, which she hasn’t yet - but she is something of a southside princess, and that means she’d know most of them in some way! 

p much anything else

i love her so much and just wanna throw her at everyone