#designing ocs are hard how did people manage to come up with more than one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

studiojeon · 3 years

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use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | - Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee).

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed.

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish. “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes.

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better.

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you.

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face.

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly.

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips.

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way.

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion.

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on?

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week.

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker.

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way."

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while.

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either.

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out.

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside.

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you.

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know".

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right.

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?"

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though.

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t.

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

10 years | ksj

pairing: kim seokjin x oc (ft. brother!jimin)

genre: brother's best friend, angst, forgiveness?, teeny tiny fluff (it's barely there lol)

words: 7, 294

summary: 10 years change people but you still remember

"Why are you freaking out?" Isabelle is attempting to get you to stay in one position, but it's fruitless when all you do is pace back and forth in the space of the changing rooms when you hear people barking orders from the outside.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" You exasperate.

Isabelle glares at you, nimble hands reaching to tighten the lace corset around your waist in one swift motion; turning your body to face her as she does her job of primping you up.

"You're being dramatic." She rolls her eyes.

You huff.

You loved Isabelle, probably because she's been working for your family for years and that she was the mother figure in your life that you never could have gotten from your own biological one—but also because she was the only person that knew her way around that thorny mind of yours.

"What would you do if you haven't seen someone in over ten years and the last memory you have with them is bitter?" You say in a hushed whisper.

Isabelle's eyes soften, hands reaching out to rest on your shoulders as your head droops, anxiety blooming in your chest even if you weren't the one getting married today.

"What can you do but say hello?" She says, "Time doesn't stop for anyone, _____."

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you hear the rustles of the curtains, causing both of your heads to turn towards the source of the noise.

"_____, your brother is asking for you." Lea, your brother's wedding planner, peeks her head through the curtains to call you.

Your heart betrays your seemingly calm stature as you begin to perspire, terrified of being face to face with the person that you should've been most excited to see.

"Time's up, ______. You can't run forever." Isabelle says, eyes solemn.

"You'd think being an adult would mean you grow out of old habits ..." Jimin mutters, glaring at you when you finally make your appearance at the rehearsal dinner.

You stick your tongue out at him petulantly, unable to forget the fact that he was no longer the older brother that you hero-worshipped because he excelled in everything that he did, nor was he the kid that stole your figurines to spite you. He was a man, older and more mature—with a wedding to celebrate the beginning of a new life with his partner.

He looks nervous, you can tell because you know Jimin better than most—a position you begrudgingly gave up in replacement of his wife, Risa—so you offer him a squeeze of his shoulder, and a look to tell him that you were here, and he was okay.

Jimin accepts it with a small smile of gratitude, moving aside so you could take your seat on the VIP table where most of his important guests sat, meaning your parents, Risa's parents, the best man and the maid of honour.

From the moment you stepped foot into the hall, you spot the person that should have been unfamiliar to you, but all you can remember is what was the best years of your life that was taken away from you. It should've been hard to spot him through the pastels and people, but you've always had eyes for him—the foolish lens of a girl that didn't want to grow up.

Even as you seat at the table, mingling with your future sister-in-law, and the maid of honour, along with Risa's parents, you can't bring yourself to acknowledge him just yet, and he has yet to make it known that he acknowledges you too.

Perhaps it was the pettiness from both ends. The fact that neither of you wanted to step down just yet, the last known interaction between the both of you only causing your heart to constrict further. You wonder if he remembers you the way you have with him.

"______," Risa calls your name, leaning in to whisper into your ear as you snap your focus on her.

"Hey, sorry." You mumble, scratching your neck, "Was a little distracted."

Risa offers you an understanding smile and you're grateful to the heaven's above that Jimin managed to make a woman like her fall in love with him. It was a far better alternative and change from the demons he used to go for as a high schooler, and you fondly (but not really) remember fighting off crazy exes when your brother decided that they weren't his long-term.

"Is this about ..." You can tell Risa hesitates to say his name, knowing the matter was still a fresh wound for you even if you had a decade to heal.

You sigh, reaching for her hand to give it a squeeze, mustering a strong front so she wouldn't worry anymore.

"Don't worry about me. It's your special day." You remind her with a soft smile.

She scoffs.

"Not yet. This is to ensure nothing goes to shit and no one gets left at the altar on a real day." She mutters.

You giggle, and even Jimin picks up on his soon-to-be wife's comment and pinches her hip, giving her a glare that lacked any real malice. You observe the way Jimin leans into his fiancee's touch when she reaches for his hand, a gesture so simple but carried the weight of lovers that wholly trusted each other.

Sometimes you envied Jimin. Throughout your adolescent years, you were always pinned against him for reasons that you still cannot justify.

The two of you were fundamentally different in nature. Jimin was a quiet kid, but his actions were the ones that spoke for him instead. For what he couldn't say in words, he made up for through the results of his actions. As a younger sibling, watching Jimin excel in every activity that he sets his mind to make you worship him, wanting to be as talented and ambitious as he was.

If he did kendo, you'd sign up so you could carry on the legacy of his talent. When he ran for class president, so did you in your own grades. Everything was always stemmed around Jimin and what he did.

Even if he was quiet, he naturally took the lead in doing things. Where you were the polar opposite. A louder than life personality should have made you the proactive one, but deep down you were meek, timid and terrified of doing things out of your comfort zone.

It did hit a sore spot for you and Jimin's relationship when he grew up enough to no longer facilitate his baby sister's incessant whines and tugs to join him in his activities. You remember the day clearly when he told you that you were nothing but an extension of him.

When you look back, you can think of it as a fond memory of two teenagers that were horrible at speaking about their feelings, but you remember the hurt you felt; only wanting to be a part of Jimin's life when he wanted to be on his own.

It took a few years to repair the relationship that was fragile, to begin with, and it wasn't just the effort of you or Jimin, but—

"Hyung, do you need to run the video through IT to check if it's playable?"

You're brought back to the present when Jimin's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you instantly know who he's referring to.

The only person that he could comfortably refer to as 'hyung' was the only person that you have yet to greet, or acknowledge.

"I see what you're doing, Park. You're not seeing this video until the 13th."

The rest of the people at the table laugh at the banter between best friend's, but you remain uncharacteristically silent. No one picks up on it—or if they did, they know well enough not to point it out for the sake of maintaining normalcy at the table.

You listen attentively to the briefing run down by Lea, and you smile fondly at the fire that the young wedding planner carried in herself. She was meticulous, and you only had Risa to thank for managing to get the most dedicated wedding planner that you were sure was out there.

Eventually, you had to practice the walk-in from the runway, up until the altar behind where the bride and groom were to be situated. That meant you have shuffled around under Lea's commands, and that you caught more of his appearance than you would have liked.

Of course, he grew up beautifully. He had always been exceptionally good-looking even from when you were in high school up to your early college years. The birth lottery definitely favoured some people, and he was on the top of the list.

But he no longer had the same youthful charm that he did when you last saw him at 23. He looked rougher around the edges, lines on his face that come with time and experience, the stroke of a paintbrush that you weren't there to witness. Age did him well—and you couldn't deny the fact that as he grew, he also grew more attractive. The assuredness that comes with age, and the physique that you can only appreciate from afar.

The suit he's wearing is ever so flattering on his broad shoulders. He followed the theme well, a black blazer, with a deep-maroon sash draped over his shoulders. You applaud the designer that had done the fitting for him because it looked perfect, quite literally like it was made for him.

You feel mediocre immediately. The dress you were wearing was stunning—in the most objective sense—and you had a matching coloured sash that was draped around your hips instead, the corset accentuating your figure. But you were still far from comparison from him. You always have been.

"_____, could you please stand next to Jin?" Lea's voice calls out an order from the front of the altar, waving her notebook at you to step aside.

Your eyes widen as you feel the blood in your face drain, hearing your new position for the photo session.

You don't want to throw anyone off, or make Jimin's special day about you—so you suck it up, take a deep breath and shuffle into position next to Jin.

His presence is overwhelming. It's like he's there but he isn't. He doesn't feel like he's there, probably because of how long the two of you haven't spoken to each other, basically strangers. You don't acknowledge him even when your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and you definitely don't acknowledge him when Lea smiles at the two of you and says perfect.

You see Risa's concerned stare on the two of you, but you give her a tight smile and mouth to her to focus on what Lea's saying instead. She narrows her eyes at you but finally relents when you nod your head to tell her that it was fine.

You were older. You weren't going to let some ... you didn't even know what to call it. But you weren't going to let the past make you feel uncomfortable when the future hasn't been told just yet.

"Jin—could you loosen up a little? It looks like you're constipated and your face isn't going to make up for that on camera," Lea deadpans, shooting a blunt comment straight at Jin.

He flushes beside you, but you don't look at him to know that because you hypothesised that he still has the same habit of his ear's turning red if all attention is on him.

"You and I know my face would've been the highlight of the picture if it weren't for the lovebirds." He quips back.

You can't find it in yourself to laugh yet when others do, but you look down at your feet to pretend like you were distracted.

Even his voice sounds more like himself. He had always been Jin, but it's like he grew out of the mould he forced himself into when you last saw him; a more relaxed yet determined version of the past that no longer exists.

"Jin!" Lea calls out.

"That seems to be your favourite word today ..." Jin mutters, which causes Jimin to snort at his best friend's antics.

Risa slaps your brother on his shoulder and narrows her eyes at him, and it's comical how fast she managed to get him to neutralise his expression.

"For a very good reason," Lea retorts, "Could you hold _____ by the waist? The space between the two of you looks too awkward."

If only she knew.

This was possibly the situation that you wanted to avoid the most, not even acknowledging him yourself, or his name to say hello—but he had to hold you close like you were something to him.

"Shouldn't he be holding the maid of honour—?" You helplessly try to reason, but the words get stuck in your throat when Lea glares at you.

For someone younger than you, and smaller than you in height too—she was terrified when she had to be.

"It's ... fine," Jin says after a beat of silence.

Then, his hand snakes around your waist so snug as he pulls you slightly closer to him that you almost lose your footing.

You gulp, unable to ignore the heat of his grasp or the way that it feels so natural as he rests his palm loosely on your hips, fingers drumming against the bone absentmindedly as Lea directs the photographer with angles that she best believe captures the moment.

When the photographer begins the countdown, you force a smile as genuine as you can, while Jin squeezes your hips as the shutter goes off.

"You two looked comfy." Jimin slides into the seat next to you after the rehearsal, rubbing on his eye with a cotton pad to remove the makeup that was applied on him.

You scowl, swatting his hand away to berate him for causing wrinkles so early on as he huffs at your adamancy.

"Don't ignore me," He pokes your side as you sigh.

"Then don't overthink it, okay? It was for the picture." You grumble, eyes focused on the bits and bobs of makeup tools at the vanity inside the changing rooms.

You can feel Jimin's stare on you, as well as how hard he thinks. Call it a sibling intuition, but you knew exactly when he was overanalysing situations, and you felt that at this exact moment.

"You know you have to speak to him eventually, right?" Jimin says after a while.

You freeze, fingers pausing as you tap against the table. Your eyes meet Jimin's through the mirror and you know he's serious, his expression says it all. But he wasn't there when it happened, and he wasn't you to feel how it felt.

"I went for ten years without talking to him. Another ten won't be hard." You clip.

Jimin sighs, turning his body to face you as you keep your shoulders towards him. It feels very much like when you were younger when Jimin sat you down to lecture you about your behaviour, or reprimanding you for doing certain things to keep you safe.

But it's vastly different. You're twenty-eight now, and you no longer took Jimin's words as the word of God, and he knew that.

"I don't know what exactly what went down between the two of you but according to Jin—"

"And you don't need to. It's been ages, Jimin. I've moved on." You snap.

Jimin purses his lips, seeing the way you're beginning to draw up all your walls against him again. It makes his heart clench because there was a time where you would have told him everything, where you would have confided him when you were having troubles. But he knew he ruined that relationship himself, and even if it's been over a decade since that fight the two of you had, the scar of the experience would always be there to haunt you both.

He knew you didn't hold it against him anymore, but he also recognised the way you'd subtly pull away sometimes, the reason why you never visited as often as you said you would in your infrequent phone calls.

"I'm just ..." He mumbles, looking at you earnestly but you don't return the stare, "I'm worried, ______."

You scoff.

"You don't need to. I won't cause a scene at your wedding, okay? I—I'm not like that ..." You start off strong, but finish in a soft whisper.

Jimin's eyes soften when he reaches a hand to rest against your shoulder.

"That's not what I meant." He sighs.

"Whatever it is that you meant just ... forget it, okay? I'm a grown-up now. I'm not your baby sister anymore." You tell him.

He flinches at the bluntness of your words but knows that you don't mean any harm to them. It was the truth that he had a hard time accepting, especially when he could've been there for you more during the years of university and the beginning of your work-life.

"I ..." Jimin trails off.

You sigh, turning around to finally face him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," You wince, "It's just that ... you don't need to worry about my battles anymore, Jimin. I've learnt how to deal with them on my own and you have your own set of things to worry about. I'll always be your sister, and nothing will change that—but I'm just not the same, impressionable girl I was a decade ago."

Jimin bites his lip as he mulls over your words, a fact hard for him to accept but nevertheless, he must. He always had the tendency to be overprotective and possessive, whether it be of his relationships, activities or belongings—it was an ugly trait that got the best of him from time to time.

He knew deep down, that he played a part in why you and Jin are so sour with each other, and he can't easily get rid of that guilt.

"I know, I know," He exhales, "If that's the case then ..."

You raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.

"Then?"

"Don't let me be the reason why you can't fight your battles," He tells you softly.

Your expression remains stoic, but you internally agree with what he says. You'd never blame Jimin, and you knew it was irrational to do so—but the ugly feeling of needing someone to blame that wasn't yourself or Jin was dominant in your conscious.

"I promise." You smile at him extending your pinky finger out, and he grins at the old ritual the two of you would do as kids.

"Good." He ruffles your hair, and you glare at him when he messes up your up-do that Isabelle spent a long time on.

"Dude!" You whine, but he snickers at your reaction.

"Ah, can't believe that I'm getting married in a week." He adds as he stares at the ceiling.

You smile to yourself and nod your head in agreement.

"Remember when you told me you were going to marry Hana?" You snort.

He grimaces, the memories of his college self resurfacing at the reminder of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"Thank God you snapped me out of it," He whistles lowly, "She was fucking insane."

You chuckle at that because Jimin sure had a type, and it was the insane girls with daddy issues. Even Risa was a little crazy but she had a good heart to make up for it.

"It seems to be a trend with you." You shrug your shoulders.

He narrows his eyes at you and flicks you on the forehead before he glances down at his watch to curse under his breath.

"Fuck. I have a meeting at the office," He groans.

Your lips tilt upwards at his distraught as you pat him on the shoulder, gesturing him to leave.

"Don't worry. I'll find my way home."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jimin—I'm sure. Now leave before they find a new CEO." You quip teasingly.

He thanks you, and presses a kiss onto your forehead before he scampers off, grabbing at his coat before he's out the door.

Once he's out of the room, you sigh to yourself; suddenly oddly nostalgic at your childhood, up to teenage memories as you and Jimin were speaking about it.

You purse your lips, unable to get Jin out of your head even when you look back to all the fun times you had as a teenager because he's always been there ... until he wasn't.

You wince, remembering the day it happened so clearly.

The smell of burnt something pricks the air and you only have yourself to blame.

You curse when you see clouds of black smoke escaping the small vents of your oven, the shady proof of how horrible you were at baking even if it was for a cause that resonated deeply in your heart.

You were thankful that your mom wasn’t home to witness your blunder because she surely would have yapped your ear off for trusting your clumsy self in the kitchen, let alone baking a recipe that was far out of your skill range.

“Why does it smell like—_____, really?” Jimin’s voice enters your thoughts as he ascends down the stairs of your home to spot you hastily fanning the smoke away with your mittens.

“Can you shut up and help me?” You hiss.

He laughs, loud and clear as he clutches his stomach to control his body.

“Dude—why?” He wheezes.

You chuck one of the mittens at him when he finally enters the kitchen, body moving at its own accord to get the trash bin along with the mitten that you threw at him while he pushes your body aside.

“Jin’s leaving tomorrow so I thought I would make some of his favourite shortbreads …” You mutter.

Jimin gracefully plucks out the burnt batch of shortbread and chucks it into the waste bin as you pout at your efforts being thrown away.

“And you didn’t bother asking for help when you know he gets his shortbread’s from a bakery?” He deadpans.

You roll your eyes and wipe your hands on your apron as you sigh.

“Look—I wasn’t thinking and now I don’t have anything to give him before he leaves!” You pout.

Jimin eyes you suspiciously and raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter to observe your sullen expression.

“So? It’s not like he’d care.”

You glare at him.

“Well—I care.” You retort.

Jimin is silent for a moment before his eyes widen, his body inching closer to yours as if he found out something that he needed to tell you.

“Do you … do you like Jin?” Jimin gasps.

Your eyes widen, cheeks reddening simultaneously as you quickly shake your head to deny the fact—even though your heart and face betray you.

“W-What?” You squeak, “Of course not! It’s just a nice gesture to send him off.”

Jimin scoffs and narrows his eyes at you accusingly.

“Then why did you go out of your way to bake him something he likes when you know you’re hopeless in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, hoping your nonchalance plays off well enough to distract Jimin from the way your handshakes at the prospect of being caught.

“He’s my friend, Jimin. I do nice things for my friends sometimes.”

Jimin looks like he doesn’t believe you, and you wish that for one moment he wouldn’t use his brain to overthink your words or the sibling telepathy he claims to have to unravel your heart’s true intentions.

“He’s my best friend. Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing all of …” He gestures to the mess of the kitchen you left it in, “… this?”

“Well you don’t own him and you definitely don’t pick who Jin’s friends with. So fuck off will you?” You snap.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you.

“He’s five years older than you.” He reminds you slowly.

You sigh, busying yourself with cleaning up the kitchen counter.

“And? You’re two years older than me but you don’t see me condemning our sibling-ship.” You retort.

“That’s not what I meant,” He groans, “He doesn’t need a kid having a crush on him, okay? He’s off to university.”

The way Jimin uses the word ‘kid’ doesn’t sit well with you, as if to tell you that you were inferior to him and Jin because you were younger than him. But you weren’t far off, and heck, you’d argue that you were far more mature than your brother or any of his friends.

“I’m graduating high school this year.” You sneer.

“And Jin is off to university!” He exasperates.

“I don’t know what your problem is because I—don’t—have—a—crush—on—him!” You emphasise with a shove of your finger to his chest with every word.

“You better not because that’ll be weird. I don’t need my sister crushing on my best friend.” He scrunches his nose when he says that.

The drop of your heart is inevitable, but you’ve long decided that you don’t live your life to please Jimin anymore, and what you wanted what was what mattered.

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off, chucking the last bit of your dishes into the sink before you glance over at the clock.

“Tell mom I’ll be out!” You say, throwing off your apron as you quickly check your appearance when you grab for your car keys.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks.

You glare at him, slipping on your shoes as quickly as you possibly can before you call out to him, halfway out the door:

“Jin’s!”

“Oh, hey _____.” Jin is surprised when you turn up on his doorstep.

“Hey yourself,” You smile, stepping in after you’ve slipped your shoes off.

“What … what are you doing here?” He asks when the two of you make your way up to his room, after offering a greeting to his parents and brother in the kitchen.

You flop on to the beanbag at the corner of his room and give him a knowing stare.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You say.

He nods his head, understanding as he glances around his barren room, most of his belongings packed away in his luggage.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” He teases.

You scoff.

“I suppose.” You shrug, “There was supposed to be shortbread too but …”

He laughs, a sound that you’ve come to adore, even as a young girl you always thought Jin was the funniest person ever. When Jimin would argue that he was funnier, you’d always jump to defend Jin’s ability to make you laugh instead.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” He says to you, plopping down to sit across from you.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” You sigh, resting your head against the plushness of the beanbag.

Jin snorts.

“Why does it sound like I’m never coming back?” He jokes.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to be in a completely different time-zone. Two, flight tickets get super expensive during the holiday season’s so I doubt you’d be back. And three—you’d probably make cool university friends keep you company so that you wouldn’t wanna’ come back anyways.”

Jin looks at you, lips twitching upwards as you complain.

“You … you thought that through, huh?”

You roll your eyes, chucking a figurine in his direction.

“Just, promise to call?” You whisper.

He smiles softly at you and nods.

“Course’. I’ll ring Jimin up and we can all talk.”

You blink at his choice of words, afraid he’s misunderstood your point.

“I mean … you can call me …” You mutter.

Jin pauses for a moment, before catching himself and chuckling softly under his breath.

“Wouldn’t that be kind of weird …?”

His choice of words only reminds you of Jimin’s tone when he warned you against your apparent (but very present) crush on Jin.

“Why would it be weird?” You tilt your head to the side.

He snorts at your question and you frown because you don’t understand what aspect of it was funny at all.

“Come on, you’re Jimin’s baby sister. If I called you it would seem predatorial, won’t it? I’m literally five years older than you.”

You don’t think he means to sound condescending, but the tone of his words definitely come across that way. You bite your tongue to not say anything rash just yet, as you take a deep breath before you respond.

“We’re friends … and I turn eighteen in June.” You remind him about your birthday coming in two months.

He shrugs.

“Yes but it’s still weird. It would just seem like we’re together, you know?”

His words make you freeze, eyes widening at his implication.

“Would that be such a bad thing …?” You whisper, and the words leave your mouth before you can think twice.

Jin hears you loud and clear, and his eyes widen. You see his body tense and the way he shifts away from you ever-so-slightly that it makes your heart drop.

“_____ … I don’t …” He tries to navigate the topic, but your eyes are bored straight on his face and it flusters him.

“You’re a kid, _____. I don’t date kids.” He snaps, deciding to opt for a defensive approach.

The demeaning term sets you off as you feel anger bubble through your system in bursts of hotness.

“I’m not a fucking kid!” You snap, and his eyes widen at your tone.

“Woah, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You lash out, “I’m not some dumb or naive child that doesn’t know what’s right or wrong, okay? I’m turning eighteen this year—and I—I thought you were better than this. How could you be so shallow?”

Jin scoffs.

“Shallow? _____,” He deadpans, “You’re just turning eighteen and I’m twenty-three. That’s a whole five-year difference. I don’t think you’re dumb but the thought of dating you right after you turn eighteen is just …” He shudders.

You still.

You didn’t know Jin could hurt you so much with just words, but he did just that. He didn’t need to say much, but you felt every sting that came with his intentions.

“Who said anything about dating?” You ask hoarsely, “I just said to call me.”

Jin softens a little, turning to face you as he sighs.

“_____ … I know you have a crush on me and—”

You’re absolutely mortified when he exposes you out in the open like that, the truth left out for both of you to mull over; but even worse for you as you were the one that was on the plank.

“Why does everyone keep saying that!” You snap, embarrassment crawling up your neck as you avoid his gaze, attempting to deflect.

“—I don’t need you waiting for me when I’m off to university. I’ll be fucking around a lot and you don’t deserve that.”

You gape at him, stunned at his audacity.

“Do you think I’m that pathetic?” You laugh, but there’s no humour in it.

“What? No—”

“Oh, you so do, Kim Seokjin,” You snarl, “Do you think I would wait for you? To live out some stupid fairytale? Yes—I have a crush on you but that’s all there is to it—a fucking crush!” You yell.

His eyes widen, attempting to reach out for you to calm you down, but you shift away.

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage but just for a fucking phone call. I’m not even asking you to like me back!” You throw your hands into the air.

“But you’re implying it! Why else would I call some girl that I’m only friends with cause' of her brother if I didn’t like her?”

That’s all it takes for silence to overtake the both of you, your mouth stunned shut as your eyes widen at his words.

“What?” You choke.

It’s like Jin is blinded by the need to defend himself, a carnal desire to protect his own heart to make him feel less like a weirdo about the way his best friend’s little sister makes him feel. An odd feeling he never wanted to acknowledge until he acknowledged you.

“I mean exactly what I said, ____,” He spits so vehemently that he doesn’t recognise himself, “All you do is follow us around like some helpless puppy because of what—your crush on me? Get over it because I’ll never like you.”

You freeze, and your heart does too.

“Do you think I willingly talk to you? It’s because of Jimin! You’re his baby sister. What else could I do? Tell you to fuck off?” He snaps.

Your lip trembles but you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Not this boy who thinks of you that way, as someone’s baby sister rather than who you were.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” You say, oddly calm, but your glassy eyes are what snaps Jin out of it.

“Wait … ____,” He sighs.

“I’ll fuck off myself, all right?” You grit, pushing yourself off the beanbag before you’re storming out of his room.

Jin doesn’t bother chasing after you because he’s mulling over his words, absolutely disgusted with what he said. His parents and brother miss you when you’re out the door crying.

Jimin doesn’t even ask how you were.

“Oh—”

It’s like he’s always there at your most vulnerable moments.

Jin is hovering by the entrance of the changing room awkwardly, his limbs too long for the tight space.

He startles you out of your reminiscent state as you clutch the robe to your chest, acutely aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your bra and underwear underneath it.

You flush, avoiding his eyes, afraid that if you looked at them; all you would remember is what he said to you.

“It’s fine,” You parrot the words he said to you earlier, and quickly pack your belongings, and casual clothes into a bag to make your way out back into your hotel room.

As you brush past him, he stops you with his voice.

“______.”

You freeze, hands still tightly gripping your robe as you feel his eyes rake over your body. You feel both exposed and safe, because once upon a time—Jin was the person that could comfort you the most.

“Yes?” You say in a clipped tone.

You hear him sigh, and you’re about to leave until he interrupts you again.

“How are you?”

You nearly scoff at the mediocre question he poses when the situation between the two of you is anything but. The question seems so out of place when the room is so tense, the ghost of his words here to haunt you both.

“Good.” Is all you respond with before you try to leave.

He grabs you by the elbow, gently, but enough for you to fall against his chest, his arms reaching around to grab you before you fall.

The opening to your robe falls a bit, and his eyes dart away out of respect as you quickly shove it closed with reddened ears.

“What do you want?” You snap.

He winces at your hostility but doesn’t blame you for it.

“I just wanted to catch up with you,” He shrugs.

Now, you scoff. It’s because Jin is still so irrevocably him, that in any other circumstance you’d smile in fondness at his ability to make any situation simple as if there wasn’t history between the two of you.

“Do you now?” You say blandly, “What do you want to know? I’m still Jimin’s baby sister if you were wondering.” You say bitterly.

Jin freezes and sighs when you bring it up; alluding to what he said to you that night years ago.

“Actually … I wanted to apologise,” He confesses.

At that, you still.

Apologise?

Did you need an apology? Wasn’t that what usually fixed conflict?

But no, an apology wasn’t going to fix the years of insecurity that you were left with when he was gone, always nitpicking at your flaws and your identity; wondering if it were really only an extension of your older brother.

Even though you were older, and somewhat more rational—there was still a part of you that wanted to blame Jin for your insecurities, even though you knew that was a war between you and yourself.

“For what? Calling me an extension of my brother or that our friendship was to please Jimin?” You snarl.

He winces and releases the hold he has on your elbow as he rubs his hand across his face.

“I was young and—”

You scoff.

“Young? I thought you were too old back then? Where was this energy ten years ago?”

His eyes narrow at you, and he noticed that you definitely grew a backbone—and a mouth. It was inappropriate still, to think of you any other way right now when he was attempting to apologise to you.

But your beauty was dangerous, and you’ve always been a pretty thing; even when you were growing up. The truth he uttered a decade ago was somewhat the truth still, he felt way too … old to be with you, even if his heart begged for him to keep you close.

“I don’t know why I said the things I did, _____.” He sighs.

You turn around, face contorted with every emotion you’ve been withholding since that fateful night.

“Let me tell you then,” You shove a finger into his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” You spit, hoping to hurt him as much as he’s hurt you.

His eyes widen when you lean in closer.

“You liked me too and you had no fucking clue what to do about it, so you pushed me away the one night I asked for a small favour. You wanted to protect yourself because you’re too in your head thinking that your feelings matter more than anyone else’s, am I right Jin?”

“_______ …”

“Shut up,” You snap.

He does, and he sees the fire in your eyes burn brighter.

“You thought you were the only one that was struggling with their emotions but guesses what—you weren’t,” You whisper, “I was too. And I pushed it aside every moment I spent with you because I knew that it wasn’t my position to decide for you if you liked me or not.”

His hand reaches out to cup your face, something instinctual inside of him told him to do so—wanting to hold you close. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. Your features soften, but you haven’t done your piece just yet.

“But you … you decided for me.” You say softly, “You showed me how much of a piece of shit you were that night.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and the words hurt—but nothing compared to how he felt when you blocked him everywhere, even to go as far to tell Jimin to never mention your name to him.

It sucked for the first two years, but eventually as you went to college and university, you unblocked him. Was it out of spite to let him see how well you were doing? Or the boyfriend that you had?

Maybe.

“_____, I’m sorry.”

Here he was, at thirty-four years old, apologising to you much like a man would—and you can’t help but admire his face when you lean in, heart willing yourself to act rather than your rationale.

“I forgave you a long time ago,” You say.

It seems that you shock him more and more with each second that passes. You weren’t the same girl you were a decade ago, but yet traces of you still lingered in your features, your smile, your voice and your words. It was just you, but older.

“It was for me.” You tell him softly and he nods his head in understanding, cupping your jaw.

“You have no idea how much I regret that night, ______.” He whispers.

You purse your lips.

“What will regret bring you, Jin? A do-over?”

This time he goes silent to observe your face. It’s no longer the same cold stare you’ve been giving him the entire day or the fact that you’ve been ignoring his presence until he found you tucked away in the changing room—a tip-off from Jimin.

“No but … you’re right,” He tells you, “I wanted to protect myself and it was selfish. I can’t change what I said or did but I’m here now and—my heart is still the same.”

“Ten years change people, Jin. I’ve changed and so did you. Maybe you liked the girl I was when I was eighteen but I’m nowhere near in the same mind-space I was back then.” You tell him.

Even though your own heart betrays you by beating rapidly against your chests the closer the holds you, you knew that acting out of your rationale would only end up with you being hurt yet again. You forgave Jin … sure you did. But ten years was far too long to accept the fact he may feel the same.

“I know but I couldn’t forget you, not when I was in university and not when I started working.” He confesses, eyes burning into your own.

You purse your lips and stand your ground. A hand reaches to clasp his, slowly pushing it away from your face as you sigh. You notice the crestfallen expression on his face, but you don’t comment on it.

“I forgave you but that doesn’t mean I forgot what you said to me that night …” You tell him, “I know I was young and that you aren’t responsible for my insecurities but you told me every single thing that I was terrified of.”

His eyes soften but ensuring he kept his distance when you slightly pull away.

“_____—” He sighs.

“No, Jin,” You tell him firmly, “You were the person that mended Jimin and I’s relationship so you knew how much it ruined me to believe that I was nothing but a product of his aspirations. That I had nothing for myself but who my brother was. I struggled so much to find my footing as a teenager and I didn’t even know what I liked and didn’t like it because the lines were so blurred between my own interests and Jimin’s.”

Suddenly, he sees a little glimpse of the girl when you were eighteen peakings through your exterior. You still sounded a little unsure of yourself, words shaking ever so slightly.

“And for the person to tell me that I was more than just Park Jimin’s sister to … to …” You swallow, the words stuck in your throat because as much as forgiving Jin was for him as it was to you, the words still haunt your mind.

“To say that I was just an extension of my brother?” You whisper, “I didn’t know who I was then but I lost who I tried to be when you said that.”

Jin bites his lip, feeling awful. But he knew that he had no right to feel like he was the one that was hurt when his words plagued your mind for years.

“Whatever your feelings are at this moment …” You trail off, clutching your belongings to your chest, ready to leave without another glance, “They’re just your guilt telling you to hold on to something you didn’t get closure with.”

You look over at him once more, a solemn expression on your face.

“This is your closure, Jin.”

You leave without sparing him another glance, and the man stands in the empty changing room feeling a lot different. He thought he’d amended things, but when you leave, it feels as bad as it had been ten years ago.

444 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 3 years

Text

♡ måneskin scenario: getting to know ethan

↳ NOTE. by popular demand and because i’m entirely enthralled by the phenomenon that is ethan torchio myself, here we go givin’ the gorgeous drummer some love.

word count. 5.5k

TAGS. no warnings all fluff, fem!oc, slice of life, photographer!reader, first date-ish, shy flirting, ot4 is part of the plot, ethan being sexy in heels

Jacob had enough of that twilight bullshit and joined a glam rock band. At least that’s what you thought seeing Ethan around for the first time. Setting up the kit, carrying his whiny band members around, fixing his ruffle shirt, chugging some water: Big gig tonight, extra long setlist. Five minutes later, complaining about his brocade shoes being hard to kick the bass drum with. Even later, silently nodding along to an impassioned Damiano speech crafted to boost the morale, and posing for your camera in his silver jumpsuit. Friendly to approach all the way, but without initiating stable eye contact even once.

One thing’s for sure. As your favorite professor said back at university: Someone may be photogenic and unearthly as hell in terms of looks, and even be intimidating — but also so damn shy, you won’t see their eyes a single time. „Gotta work with it and not against. Then it gets interesting“. In essence, the takeaway from that course. Which does come in handy now. Ethan seems like the kind of guy you really have to get into for a more intimate-feeling picture.

Sure, many people in front of your camera have all kinds of introverted personalities anyway, wearing sunglasses in particular. So much about eye contact in the first place. And the aesthetic is priority, not studying character. Although you really are a fan of that, it’s a huge part of photography if anything. Alas, you’re here to „capture nothing more but the spirit of italo-rock, the attitude, the hedonism!“ (the exact words of your boss) for a music magazine after all. Really, nothing more? You paid attention to how he worded it. Fair enough. Rock spirit, that’s all, the exciting parts.

Ethan surely has it. Drumming on everything he can find during rehearsal breaks („music is everywhere“) with his sticks, even Thomas’ amplifier. He’s actually dorkier than you thought, less composed when he’s in his element. First impressions do deceive. The hair’s hard to miss, too. It’s the central motif that attracts you. You may or may not have taken over 50 shots of it just because. Ethan is a bad bitch and he better know. You climb around the venue to get any salient angle of Måneskin you can think of. Even from all the way back, last row. You don’t want to annoy them being all up in their face constantly. You’re hired to get all the good shots, they’ve been a band for seven years already, professionals in the making. Doesn’t mean you have to stand below the edge of the stage and never change position.

Even from back there, the silver reflects beautifully at the back of the stage. The fashion’s all designer and it shows, but Ethan couldn’t look bad in any of the shots even if he tried or wore the plainest black suit (hell, that would be just as beautiful in fact). Just how long is that hair anyway. All the way down to the solar plexus, must be 24 inches or more. 25, even. Many rockers would wear it that way, but Ethan seems particularly interesting with how he touches it, how he behaves with it. There we go again with the character study, you can’t help wondering.

But really. It’s any photographer’s dream when someone moves their hair around so damn naturally. Gives a great variety to how it frames and shades the face. You like to play with light all the time. And hey, why ask for eye contact when he does even better posing in other ways. The body, too, Ethan’s posture is great. Victoria and Thomas often bend to really get into their power chords, Damiano frequently hunches forward for a belt. But Ethan’s throned at his kit like some royals taught him to be a good boy. Back straighter than a pole, how the hell.

No glance in your direction still, even if you return from your last row spot to move around on stage with the camera. Which gives the band a motivation boost and chances to try out gestures up close, too, so even better. Hey, maybe it doesn’t annoy them. You can actually get used to it, this way of photographing them is all dynamic. Nearing the end of the first rehearsal, you’re all busy maneuvering between Thomas and Damiano to get a nice semi-profile from Ethan’s left side. Gotta work with it not against, you chant to yourself as a mantra, and it seems easier to stick to than you thought.

How glossy all that hair is commands all the attention of your shutter release in and of itself. That he takes good care of it and has been growing it since forever shows a dedicated guy. It’s actually quite wavy. The band arrived in the pouring rain and Ethan’s curly strands at the crown and nape of the head were definitely showing — super cute. An army of stylists took on the resulting humidity frizz. They whipped out the straightening iron and protective spray, and even now before the big performance, Ethan brushes his hair out in front of you, and sweeps it around with his fingers anyway. You take pictures of the bits you find most candid, and decide to rather perfect single shots instead of making several in a row. The more you photograph him, the more you want to discover his essence in one picture. His sheer presence almost begs for it, it’s ridiculous.

Victoria on the other hand has no problems with rapid-fire releases and comes close to your lens to pull funny faces. She’s got some of the coolest poses you’ve ever seen with her bass, and hops around the stage like a bunny to the beat. Thomas is a virtuoso and pro who keeps on doing what he does when you make him pose, and Damiano can flirt with any camera ever. He even lowers his red leather jacket off his collar bones for you to have a great shot. He’s promising and most definitely a born divo, your boss will be happy with those pictures most definitely.

Then again. Behind that supposed hedonism is so much hard work and thought. Damiano even gives you ideas for angles during the second rehearsal. „Hm, maybe stand on the amplifier?“ Eagle perspective, not a bad idea at all. After trying out said suggestions with the help of triggered stage security making sure you don’t fall off the construction („eh, Damiano always suggests the most reckless things to staff, don’t mind him“), you find yourself concentrating on what goes on at the back of the stage all over again.

Ethan is busy practicing a new solo which has you curious about whether it’s for an upcoming album. Though again — the shoes cause trouble. Ethan complains again, the music stops. That could very well be the reason why he seems so preoccupied today, or is it? The manager tells the stylist, and the stylist hurries, voilà, Ethan has a new pair of shoes brought in. Ones with a thicker sole, bit of a chunky heel, and laced up rather than being slippers, a drummer’s worst nightmare as you have learned today.

You wait until he changed. Then snap some more pictures how he continues practicing calmly, and the sound did improve since he can kick the bass drum better now. Now you position yourself across the stage all over, in the empty audience ranks. Ethan is the most radiant and confident when you just take a step back. But well, he still sweeps his hair around a whole lot and looks even more tense-looking than Damiano who’s doing vocal warmups and jumping jacks, „Come on guys, come on, we’re starting in 30 minutes!“.

You can tell he does it more often when he’s nervous. And that means he does it very often. People would probably assume it’s vanity, or the fact that the hair gets in the way. You can see that for him it’s a place of distraction, maybe safety. A gesture like an anchor. He’s used to it being long just like his eye shadow being dark and smoky all day. He knows the drums by heart, if it falls in his face no need to shake it away. And besides. The strands reach below his shoulder blades, it stays down his back if he doesn’t move around too much. He could easily tie it up as well. All those things go through your mind without you even knowing why.

To switch things up a little, you photograph Thomas fooling around with Victoria at the snack bar, stuffing fries up their noses, and already see the lighting technicians do their final check. Some of them you know briefly, you made shots at this venue before, last year for a Shakespeare theatre play. You did some freelance work in the scene, but now you’re put to the test for more involved jobs. Hard to complain though, Måneskin are amazing in front of the camera. If Damiano is not the ideal Hamlet, you don’t know anymore.

Something new happens all the time, the expressions are priceless. Ethan’s in particular, when he does his wide-eyed surprise faces learning that there’s actually healthy food at the snack bar. „Vitamins, how nice.“ — Thomas, pokerfaced, reacts with eating a mayonnaise-dripping sandwich. Ethan, unfazed. Headed straight to the fruits. You’ve never seen a tall silver glitter tower like him walking around biting a bright red apple. Well, you can take Jacob out of twilight, but not the twilight out of Jacob. Snap, another picture. Clash of words, that’s a nice theme.

The concert of this evening seems particularly energetic and leaves your camera roll with some brilliant, tweet-worthy material. Damiano covered in confetti, eyeliner running. Victoria on the shoulders of Ethan while he’s playing her bass. Thomas, stagediving. Fans waving banners and chanting along to Seven Nation Army. Your ears are ringing when the light technicians close down the stage two hours later. Thomas really played his soul out with the solos, and your feet seem to vibrate. That’s your body thinking Victoria’s bass is still playing, but the magazine is very happy with how the pictures turned out after you send the whole batch to them as soon as you can.

Little to no retouching, zooming, or cropping necessary. Ethan is just perfect as he is, you feel like you captured him well. After swiping through the gallery on your tablet, you think Victoria has some great ant’s eye perspective shots as well. Those go right on your own blog, she’s just amazing. The magazine has an enthusiastic article typed out already. Damiano’s mid-air split on beat for the final song makes the cover story on Monday, and Måneskin’s manager comes back to you a week later. „What would you think about doing some behind the scenes stuff for us? We’re planning a music video!“

And that’s how you end up in a Sicilian restaurant with Måneskin and crew a week later, stuffed with Calzone and mind filled with Damiano’s inspiring words (and the occasional catchy freestyle rap). The MV is as good as finished. Thomas had shown you around the mansion they were shooting at, and you could convince a taciturn Ethan to walk between the marble statues and boxwood trees in the garden. With his black cape on, a rhinestone choker, and the low-cut lacey blouse that the MV director was obsessed with as well, asking you to focus on it. Your best shot even ends up in the thumbnail of the Youtube video without you even expecting it would.

All the garden pictures turned out mindblowing. If not iconic, the best project you had so far. Gets to show you the best things are often improvised. Ethan, stoic as always, sat at the base of armor-clad Emperor Augustus twisting into the blue sky in a large gesture. The marble was a perfect contrast. Ethan ate a ripe pear from a tree, even that was aesthetically pleasing, then leaned against a hunting Apollo, and you also framed him from the back next to Aphrodite and Cesar. He put on his sunglasses underneath Achilles, and knelt at the feet of a Pietà replica. Marvelous panorama shots, with him the shining center. Well, we know since Queen that the drummer is the unrealistically pretty one.

The whole picture series is blowing up on your blog for the whole afternoon. „Count Dracula on a stroll in Versailles — eugh, begone sunlight!“ is what a comment neatly sums it up as. People seem to especially like the shot where Ethan playfully put his cape over Pallas Athena’s spear with a blurry Thomas having a laughing fit in the background. Well, even Count Drac gets photobombed sometimes. Your phone buzzes with notifications every other minute, you do notice it against your thigh. But the insalata of the restaurant is good and the night is young. Victoria and the manager tell old stories of Thomas snapping a guitar string while he was trying to serenade a highschool crush. Ethan scolds them for making fun of it.

Damiano gets drunk and dances on the table, the MV director discusses new ideas, some walk-in fans take pictures. The temperature is still unbearable. You order a dessert to share with Victoria and Ethan. A large tiramisu that the waiter cuts in three pieces, and it’s truly delectable. The chocolate, so crunchy, melty. The cream, fluffy and cool, making for a funny white beard that makes Ethan look like an arctic scientist returning from an expedition.

Of course, you take pictures, all the food is documented. As are late night restaurant shots with Damiano’s heels peaking into the frame when you photograph the band’s friendship bracelets, hand-made by Victoria on a tour bus last year. Damiano’s back down on the table soon, singing, while Ethan creates a beat with two forks. Thomas also agrees to take your camera for a while so you’d be in the frame for a change, too.

You pose for a group picture, or rather a group hug, and being in the middle …Ethan’s arm wraps around your shoulder loosely, hair dangling into his face, but also brushing yours. He focuses on the camera, facing away from you. The schooled eye could catch you breaking a sweat in the resulting photo. Ironically, the tiramisu doesn’t cool you down the way you thought. Thomas is too busy trying to figure out your camera dials and yelling „hey eyebrow king, smile!“ at Ethan.

A round of even more gelato goes down in spoons and spoons. The band members eat like they ran a marathon. Ethan clinches a third round because he can, unhealthy be damned, he needs some sugar and refreshment. And it’s true the MV shooting was strenuous in the heat, and had lots of intense performing parts. Even an invisible rope suspension were Thomas would descend from a ceiling during the chorus with little cherub wings attached to his back because why not. If the manager agreed to recreate this on tour some day, the pictures would be amazing.

You can’t help but think what kind of special effect would suit Ethan the most, and you come to the conclusion that a bridge lift would be the coolest thing ever. A rising part of the stage letting him emerge like an elevator from the underground. Maybe using smoke machines, too. The idea twirls around in your mind so intensely, Damiano asks if you’re wasted. You’re always getting carried away with all kinds of fantasies like that for over a week now. A dreamy photographer? Not unusual, but it’s seriously distracting you from the present moment.

The crew slowly heads home, and the band decides (translation: Victoria’s mood is) to head to the movies. Just when the waiter arrives with the bill, Damiano spills panna cotta all over Ethan by accident. So bad he’s all sticky from the shoulders down, making Ethan opt for the hotel instead. Besides, he’s been drumming his soul out, sleep is so needed now. Since the group is already gone and there’s still a forgotten cymbal left to carry back to the equipment bus by the hotel, you help Ethan maneuver it around. The heat is making either of you sweat, even with the full dark of the night coming up.

The gaffer lady you’re sharing a hotel room with is already fast asleep. Damn it. You want to cut a video and make screenshots with the laptop being decently bright. And with some volume if possible, you don’t find headphones in the darkness of the room. Ethan clears the desk in his own room for you after removing his make-up. He looks so young and beautiful and tired.

You type and drag and double click yourself through the video and do some last blog updates to deal with all the notifications. Ethan lends you some headphones, but you only keep them on one ear. The humming is too nice to ignore. Nor do you know what to even expect. The bathroom door is open, Ethan is topless washing the lace blouse by hand. Only wearing bellbottom pants and his lace choker — nothing else. He’s fully immersed in his task. He even adds some other shirts and silk scarves into the soap water along the way while he’s at it.

You’ve never seen someone do their own laundry so systematically. Ethan looks like Prince Caspian at the sink, wielding the almond soap bar like his weapon of choice against the enemies of Narnia (the devious panna cotta that’s still sticking to everything). He might be all mysterious, but he’s well able to curse all kinds of things. You tease Ethan for dropping his gentlemanly behavior for a stain of dessert. Ethan insists you sound like Thomas trying to test him with his slick comebacks, which makes you laugh. The blog has calmed down a little and your eyes hurt from editing, so you call it a day and send one last e-mail.

Ethan is drowning in bubbles at this point. The whole room smells like fabric softener. He thanks you for helping him carry around the equipment earlier. In return, you say grazie for him being your perfect muse in the garden today. Philosopher he is, Ethan remarks how Måneskin is usually the one searching for muses, now he ended up one himself — „Maybe not a bad thing, eh. Become the thing you want or something.“ That’s way too deep for a summer night in Sicily, and both of you need a huge portion of sleep. Tomorrow, lots of schedule. You do find yourself wanting to help lick that dessert off his chest. No way you’d tell him.

Ethan waddles off to shower after a crooked, reserved smile for a good night departure. When you close the door to your room and start brushing your teeth, the other members’ voices emerge in the hotel corridor — they’ve returned from the movies. Damiano is even more wasted than before and audibly sings. „You’ve looked at the photographer lady in a certain way earlier, huh. I saw, I saw!“ Victoria does a loud ‚shh‘ noise, and the stoic reply is a simple „Sleep, Damiano, you’ve had too much.“ Thomas giggles, and four doors click shut. Damiano’s singing is now muffled for two minutes until it’s silent. How the fuck can you even sleep after hearing that.

You assumed that Ethan would treat you differently the next morning, in whatever shape or form. But he doesn’t. The greeting is short as it would always be, and he informs you that he did manage to wash out the sugary clay from his clothes as he puts it. Damiano says nothing, adjusts his rings. Thomas randomly pulls zippers at his packed-up equipment. Victoria headed to the car already. Downtown to a studio it goes. The group gets styled to perfection, twenty minutes later they make a reaction video to the newly released MV teaser. Ethan talks about enjoying the sculptures in the garden.

Three hours down the line, you shoot some promotional pictures of them at a pool. Thomas has the time of his life perfecting his diving board skills, and Damiano creates the musical background, singing and prancing. The aerials would make literal perfect editorial-in-VOGUE material. In the meantime, Victoria dozes in the sun. Ethan dives. Sometimes just sitting at the bottom of the pool, othertimes swimming back and forth. The art director suggests you to go into the water, too. He’s right, the perspective works out well this way.

You’re basically standing in there with your flowy pantalon pants and camisole, using a waterproof camera. Your bikini is back at the hotel. It doesn’t matter, everything will dry quickly, the others went in the pool with clothes as well. And you’re all too wrapped up in your passion in the first place. You marvel at how fun the whole scenery looks through your lens. Their outfits are cropped and luminous, today’s color is bright red. You order the lighting assistant back and forth, get some more great Thomas frames where he tosses around a volleyball that the manager brought along. Less rock than usual, but it works. Måneskin at a pool in Sicily.

Damiano splashes water around like crazy. Victoria joins the fun as well, splashing right back. It’s infernal. Well, those are going to be dynamic pictures, you think, and the cameraman never dies, so. Ethan resurfaces every other minute, wiping the chlorine from his eyes. He slicks his hair back with both hands, looking down his body learning how his shirt has become completely transparent. He covers his chest with his hair, quickly, then submerges again. It’s strange. Being topless is usually no big deal in Måneskin.

Almost 12 o’clock. Thomas and Damiano wander off to work on some lyrics, probably the title that the drum solo is part of. All top secret. Victoria returns to her sun lounger, checking her phone. The crew heads for lunch, but you stay in the water, gladly you put sunscreen on earlier. You ask Ethan to try some seated or floating poses at the bottom of the pool that you saw him practice earlier. „No worries, keep your eyes closed.“

What unfolds before you is the most beautiful thing. Ethan’s shirt fans out like a red jellyfish underwater, playing around his body. His figure is just enviable. He gets the hang of it and knows quite how to move. Or rather, to remain stable when the pose is perfect. Hands above his head, horizontal, or seated, only one foot lightly sweeping over the pool floor, or on one knee, as if he proposed.

Raising his arms helps him sink down and settle, as if he immersed himself in deep meditation. Although the purpose of meditating is to be present, isn’t it. And that’s what he feels like. Ethan would normally switch on autopilot for most of his public interactions, now he’s alive and fully in the concentrated movements of the photoshoot. So much about improvising all over again. The hair creates the most incredible shapes like a black, wide brushstroke, clearly outlined. Thank god you have the waterproof camera. These are moments you’ll never forget.

Your blog notifications keep on bleeping throughout the afternoon. The promotional pictures are a hit. Måneskin’s manager is basically waving five new contracts in front of your face at dinner, but you’re kind of spaced out again. The cozy, rose-ranked atmosphere of the street café you went to is inspiring, and the members dressed up in the most fancy suitwear. Men in Black? Måneskin in Black. It’s almost as if fate read your mind. Ethan is looking at you very intently from across the table when the minestrone is served.

Pasta shells, parsley, vegetables and basil leaves. The scent surrounds the entire table. Damiano, in serious mode tonight, is too busy finding new rhymes and an alternative chorus with Thomas who wildly brainstorms. Victoria drinks, loudly chats with the gaffer lady that you share a room with, and they use a leaf of a palm tree pot plant to tickle Damiano. Thomas plays the acoustic guitar. Ethan and you end up smiling briefly at another. „Bon apetit,“ you say. It’s almost 34° celsius. That’s going to be an entire pile of cheesecake gelato tonight.

Five signed contracts later and halfway through a hefty caprese cake, the title song is finished. An ode to Marlena, fierce like the Mediterranean sea. The piece certainly sounds exactly like this place. Strangers listen to Damiano performing bits and pieces, but you decide to disperse when too many cellphones come out. Damiano wants to go to a bar, Thomas and Victoria carry home their guitars, or to the hotel to be exact, and bags of newly shopped vintage clothes. You ask Ethan if there are any cinemas around the area. „We missed out last time, remember.“

The Palazzo Theater is a small and hidden insider tip far from the main street with its busy beach tourists. Under bulbous metal balconies and peach-colored facades, a small entrance with lanterns on each side guides you inward. Ethan almost hits his head, it’s so low. He’s wearing glossy red bottoms under his suit pants, you’re out and about with a 6’2 giant after all — a statue by himself. A small man with a pipe sells you cheap tickets for a Mads Mikkelsen movie and lemonade, Ethan picks up an XXXL caramel popcorn bucket. You think he’s flexing, but you get a sudden heureka by looking at it twice.

Unlike the S, M, and L bags, it’s thick cardboard and drum-shaped. Oh my god, obviously. Which fine percussionist could ever resist such temptation striped in red and white, the sound deep and dull? It makes you smile how Ethan pursues his instrument even when he seemingly doesn’t, it really has to be a hobby at heart. That’s how a job becomes a profession, and a profession a vocation, your uni professor’s other favorite words all over again. The latter’s words have gotten you far so you again trust the insight that came to you through that quote.

Seeing Ethan standing there, you can almost see the childlike joy at imagining it being empty and ready to get turned around. A tuxedo Italian with Louboutin heels and a ginormous popcorn drum, half past eleven somewhere in Palermo: Ingenious combination, you snap a picture. Ethan makes a cute face, posing like a pinup of the 50s. Who knows how many vintage store posters he’s seen during tours, he must have picked it up there. And— Is he blushing? Must be the dim lights in here.

Off you go to the auditorium. Ethan, who balance the popcorn with all care in the world like it’s his baby, walks the aisle slower than you. The slim steps don’t have any floor lighting. Not very heel-friendly, but since it’s not a huge budget theater and few people dare spike heels on those cobblestones outside anyway, the stairs shall be forgiven. You take out your phone and offer your arm. For every gentleman it takes a gentlewoman, duh. Like rock’n’roll and the camera staff, chivalry (or shevalry as Damiano calls it when Vic holds the door open) never dies. He mumbles a thanks, you climb upward to the fourth-last row, Ethan holds on tight.

No ankles twisted and not one popcorn spilled, you get seated on red velvet. The chairs are dated, but nevertheless ultra comfortable. Nobody else is here. The adverts roll, Ethan cracks open the lemonade bottle caps with his chunky golden lighter because he can. You toast to Mads Mikkelsen’s bone structure and good minestrone, Måneskin’s finished title track, the promo pics, and the discovery of Ethan’s favorite new drum. A whopping five things to toast about? The night’s going to be great.

Damiano catwalking across the screen, wearing a Versace skirt in the middle of otherwise-boring commercials does shake you up. He was picked as a testimonial recently. Though, your pulse is high enough. Ethan’s hair is brushing against your shoulders, not to mention his goddamn massive arms. He can’t get out a single word either for the entirety of the ads, avoiding eye contact all over again. Just how much suspense can starting to eat the first popcorn have. Well, you pick two from the very top and start munching.

Mads does a great job opening the movie as one would expect, but you just can’t concentrate. Instead, you stress-eat popcorn. Which makes Ethan do the same thing, at least he’s somewhat fixated on the screen. After the first ten minutes, he shakes his head. „That makes no sense at all,“ he clears his throat. „Yeah, yeah it clearly doesn’t,“ you agree, basically on Torchio-autopilot yourself for the lack of a better reply. You were too busy figuring out the components of his aftershave rather than the thin plot. Shifting in your seat, chugging lemonade…

The air conditioning is scarce, but at least the screen is quite large and proper. You try to focus on the cinematography and do small talk about it. If there’s something you can comment on without having followed the string of action, it’s at least this. You might be nervous, but you’re still a photographer. „Um, isn’t this chainmail nice in the closeup?“ — „Hm, I guess it works. We should ask Damiano to request something like this from Versace.“ — „Medieval Måneskin Rockers?“ — „Something like that.“ — „Hilarious.“

By the twenty-minute mark, the popcorn drum is almost empty. Gladly, that stuff just shrinks to bits in the stomach. The lemonade just has to galvanize it. You might be able to distract yourself with the camera shots and the last caramel chunks, but that doesn’t change Ethan’s long legs and Acqua di Parma perfume next to you. Yep, you finally figured out what it was, it wasn’t the aftershave. And well. Ethan smells like hotel soap from Milano to Napoli and back.

That scent basically dominates all the others besides a hint of cigar and basil and citrus-y deodorant mixed with runny sweat. God fuck, you can barely stand it. And the almond scent. You take a chance to at least jokingly point it out to him. The random movie flashback sequence is boring — and just as nonsensical as before, no offense to Mads though, he’s just walking around in chain mail — enough to deviate from whatever choppy convo you had going on before.

„I actually washed it twice,“ Ethan pulls off the silky scarf that functions as his current tie, and you recognize it. „The strawberry sauce was hard, but the cranberries… God no, I’ll never go near pana cotta again. Nothing against cream desserts.“ You take the scarf, smell it. Did he literally just hand it to you? Figures, he’s sweating bullets, too. And oh shit, he hasn’t talked that much all evening.

You slowly shift from bodies turned to the screen to facing each other. So up close, so up front, only God can help you know. His eyes are dark and reflective of the film’s flickering lights and changing scenes. You wish you could photograph them on sight. It would be as glimmering as your view from the hotel room, overwatching the unobstructed stars of the Mediterranean bay down the boulevard.

But it’s like you’re stuck in your position this way, feverishly thinking about a reply. What to pick up on, what to pick up on. You think about today, the evening where you edited things in his room. „Uh well, drop your laundry in the pool next time,“ you laugh, more than tentative, with your fingers randomly curling around the scarf. „The chlorine stuff will do the job for you. It’s so aggressive, it bleached by pants one shade lighter.“

Saved. Smooth transaction. Phew. „Oh, the pool was horrible. Not the photos, I mean… I don’t know how you can poison water that way.“ — „I know right? It’s still in my nose. But yeah, was a good idea with the underwater thing. The photos turned out really well.“ — „I really haven’t done something like that before but I guess it turned out hm, nice?“ — „Come on! Nice is understated. Are you fishing for compliments?“ — „No no, by all means!“ — „The one kneeling. It’s my favorite. I don’t even know what to do with all these pictures.“

„I don’t know. Maybe keep them?“ — „Keep… for what?“ — „It’s a separate series, right. The art director didn’t request it. Maybe they can be used for something later on during promotions.“ — „Yeah. We’re always a little extracurricular,“ you laugh again, tense in your voice, and empty your lemonade completely. „This, too,“ Ethan points at the theatre in general. „You’re good to talk to. The better version of alone time.“ — „Thank you. You’re great to go out with. I… really like it.“ Beautiful nature scenes show on screen, but they’re nothing but a blur. You take Ethan’s hands in the dark and smile. „Maybe we should do it more often.“

masterlist | bookmark/read it on ao3

#maneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin fanfic #maneskin scenario #måneskin #maneskin fluff #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #ethan x reader #ethan torchio fluff #ethan torchio fanfic

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Better Man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~`Just to see you smile, I’d do anything. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung x Oc

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Do you ever truly know what someone is feeling?

You could spend decades , breathing the same air, hands held , your fingers brushing ....connected physically and even mentally but a person’s emotions, they’re hidden away.

You only ever know what they’re willing to show .

And yet,

all of us build relationships, convinced that we know exactly what the other person will feel when we act a certain way. Buying her flowers will make happy....visiting him at work will take away that little bit of stress.

But sometimes, what we think someone feels, may not be what they truly feel.

And that’s when your actions, well intended actions..... end up with disastrous consequences.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So....last night...” Jungkook’s teasing voice did nothing to ease the pounding in my head.

“I do believe you promised not to tease me about it if I drank two glasses of water, which I did by the way.” I told him firmly, trying to bring the words on my planner into focus as i squinted. Three meeting. Each two hours long.

kill me now.

“I wanted to ask HR to give you the day off but you have quite a schedule today. “ He said casually, leaning over me to peer into the planner . I glanced at his wrist resting on the table, the expensive rolex showing that it was a little past 9.

“ We’re planning out the Christmas campaign first and I have a meeting with Taehyung’s team in the afternoon so we can go over the contract see if they have any requirements and then the social media team in the evening at four to discuss promos and revamping the website.” I glanced up at him.

He gave me a smile before casually leaning down, lightly gripping my chin and tilting my face up. I felt the brush of his lips against mine, fleeting and gentle.

‘You’re beautiful.” He smiled.

I blinked.

And then took a deep breath.

“Your wife...” I said softly. “ I saw her today.”

Jungkook went completely still at that.

“She was waiting in the lobby on my way up. I didn’t know who you were married to and I was a little shocked and also little upset because....” I glanced at him. “ She was my best friend in college. “

Jungkook swore.

“Fuck.. I told her to stay the fuck away from my company. Did she say something to you?”

i shook my head.

“I didn’t greet her because I wasn’t sure if she remembered me. And I wasn’t sure if i was remembering her right. i didn’t know she was your wife till i heard someone mention it in the elevator on my way up. Did you know that she and i knew each other?”

Jungkook looked just a little guilty.

“When you first joined the company, she saw your resume on my cvomputer. told me a lot about you. She remembers you. Fondly. She wanted to come meet you but...things happened. “ He shrugged.

Things like infidelity and divorces .

“Ahh...” I smiled. “ Tell me i wasn’t another way to get back at your ex wife, Jeon Jungkook ssi...”

He made a noise of protest.

“no... No of course not Christ...it’s just...I’ll admit she made me curious about you. She spoke of you being spontaneous and fun and wild and I’d seen you as this demure, elegant woman in the office. i was curious. I wanted to know which one was the real you. “

“Were you curious before she cheated....or after?”

“ Jang Mi...this isn’t what it looks like .. I’m done with her. She fucked my best buddy and ruined my fucking life...” He sounded pained.

I frowned.

“It’s hard to believe she would do something like that. The Aera i remember had a very strong moral compass.”

“Yeah well, apparently, you can live whole entire lives with someone and never really know the person. Listen, do we really have to talk about my ex wife?” He asked, eyes shining with discomfort.

I shrugged.

“I’m not fond of drama. I won’t tangle myself in a relationship that risks hurting a lot of people Jungkook. That’s just not the kind of person I am. I’m sorry.”

He made a noise of impatience, shaking his head.

“We won’t be hurting anyone... We have fun together. We like each other. We’re attracted to each other...that’s all that matters....” He said sharply.

“ If we were in our twenties , without kids ....maybe. But that's not how it is now. I have a son, you have a daughter and I think I’m not completely over my marriage yet.” I said softly.

He froze.

“And i don’t think you’re completely over your wife either.” I smiled.

He glared at me.

“Ex-wife.” He snarled.

“She makes you feel things, Jungkook. You need to sort that out before you start something new with someone else. I’m only saying this because we’re old enough not to

He growled and punched the desk.

“God, how can she keep ruining my life even when she’s out of it.” He muttered, stepping away from me and moving to the door.

I watched him storm out of my office and bit my lip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time evening rolled around, I was exhausted. But the day had been productive and I was happy because the contract had been finalized, the theme had been decided and we’d also spent an amazing three hours redesigning the website. Although it wasn’t in my job description I had studied web design in college and the creative department always welcomed my inputs.

“You’re in a good mood...” Taehyung’s voice was a complete surprise and I turned to him, shocked. He was dressed in a black t shirt and blue jeans and sneakers and looked a whole decade younger.

I felt affection rise up my throat so fast I nearly choked.

“What are you doing here?”

“My agent told me you guys were incredibly cooperative today. She also told me you were quite possibly the loveliest woman she’s ever met and that I’m an idiot to have let you go.” He smiled.

I laughed, shaking my head and my gaze shifted to the small bunch of tiger lilies in his hand.

I felt warmth bloom in my chest.

“You remembered.” I said softly, pleased.

“Thirteen years since our first date. The lily to my tiger. ” He held the flowers to me and I grinned, pressing the flowers to my chest.

“Man I feel old.” I muttered.

“You are old.” Tae grinned and i grimaced, before tossing him a glare. .

“You’re supposed to say I still look as beautiful as i did thirteen years ago.” I said.

“But you don.t” He grinned impishly. “ You look a billion times more beautiful.”

I felt the atmosphere shift, the air charged with something dangerous and i looked away. Usually, this was when I would laugh and throw my arms around him. Pull him close and press my lips against his , slip my fingers into his t shirt and trace the skin of his back. Feel his hands on my waist as he lifted me up to twirl me around and kiss me just like that.

How often had we kissed that way? Thirteen years is a long time to count the number of kisses we’d shared.

We both stayed quiet, looking anywhere but at each other.

“I...there’s a reason I came.” He said finally.

I glanced at him.

“Oh?”

“The lawyer. Ms. Lee she ... recommended a relationship counselor”

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat.

“Taehyung we’re-”

“Just hear me out. Its not mandatory and it won’t affect the divorce in anyway. its just something the court offers all couples going through a divorce and we’re free to refuse it. “

“Did you?” I asked.

“Did I what?”

“Refuse it. Did you tell her no?”

He stared at me.

“No.” He said finally.

I exhaled sharply.

“Wow.” I whispered, feeling jittery and unbalanced. He sighed and came closer, reaching out to lightly grip my wrists. I let him tug me closer into a hug and held him tight, my heart pounding with anxiety.

“Mia.... I just... I’m not saying we should try to fix this.... relationship.” He said softly, eyes gentle and pleading, “ I just think this whole thing has taken a toll on both of us and maybe we can heal better if we get the help of a professional. Come out of this with closure. Instead of battling guilt and regrets everyday. Just ....it could help us move on. Don’t you think?”

You could never really tell what the other person is feeling.

I couldn’t tell what Taehyung was feeling right now?

Hope ?

Hope that we would fix our marriage....

or maybe hope that he would finally move on from me.. Maybe this whole thing was his final attempt to end things with me for good. So he could walk out of my life forever without any lingering guilt or regret.

I would never know.

I clung to him harder and somehow the pain of the entire two years we’d been apart, rammed into me at once.

I choked on a sob. Breathing became difficult and I felt myself gasping for air.

“Mia?” Taehyung’s panicked voice was the last sane thought that registered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can stay the night if you want. I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom . ” Taehyung whispered, seated on the warm fluffy blanket that he’d managed to dig out of the closet in the spare bedroom. i was already tucked into the bed, fingers clutching the satin lined edges .

i shook my head.

“I know how much you need your gazillion pillows. Go on... I’ll be fine.”

“i feel terrible. i pushed you into a panic attack.”

I waved off the guilty words.

“You didn’t . i was already a little frayed and i guess i haven’t really been processing all the stuff between us the way i should have. i just got a little overwhelmed.”

A panic attack. At the age of 32. The last time i had one I was twenty four. I wanted to crawl into the bed and never resurface.

Taehyung’s gentle fingers , stroking my cheek brought me out of my own head.

“I was so scared.” He said softly and my heart ached.

“I’m sorry i scared you.” I said apologetically, gripping his wrists lightly and stroking the skin there with my thumb.

“I really want to stay. i don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if I go home right now.” He whispered.

I bit my lips.

“Okay... but... You need to hug something. To sleep. “

He grinned at that.

“I’m old enough to survive one night without a pillow, Mia .” he chuckled.

I flushed, sinking deeper into the covers.

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to worry about the counselor thing. I’ll tell Lee we don’t want to do any-”

“No!!” I said quickly, a lot louder than I’d intended.

Taehyung blinked.

“I just... I realized that I haven’t been dealing with any of this...the right way. I’m so confused and disoriented all the time and I .. I don’t mind getting some help. To sort things out. Just for myself you know...without the pressure of trying to fix...well us.” I finished .

Taehyung gave me a wide smile before bending down and kissing my forehead.

“ Okay, Mia mine. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

#taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fic

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spikeinthepunch · 3 years

Photo

this OC has been in the works on and off before pn2 came out and finally i finalized a design of some kind! this is my agent, Min!

i suggest following my sideblog @morceauoleander if you want to ask more about Min or see more written posts about them and the game!

ill go into more detail under the read more, but Min is a freelance/commission agent who works with the psychonauts often. They have DID (as i do too) so this works best for them. They are incredibly powerful and specialize in Ergokinesis- specifically light manipulation (or lack thereof). They are introverted but quite sociable when it comes to the people they know. They get along well with the interns and younger psychics, coming off a bit immature. But they’re a young adult familiar but not super close to the likes of Milla, Sasha, etc since they don’t work at the headquarters.

very very long additions and questions answered below....

What is a freelance agent?

Ad stated, Min is a freelance agent. This means they do not specifically work for the Psychonauts as a full time job. They trained under them on an on-off basis but eventually found they worked best alone and on their own schedule. Anyone can commission them for work, good or bad. While they tend to work on the “good” side more, they no doubt have wound up in some not great situations due to it.

Min’s gender/sexuality/etc? Surname? Are they being referred to with plural “they”?

Min is agender, they/them. Not plural they! Min does not tend to reveal any legal information regarding their full name or history. They generally identify as bisexual.

What is Min’s DID like?

i dont plan to explore every angle of DID and set up hard rules on how it works in psychonauts- mostly because Min’s alters don’t play a drastic change in Min’s outside life. And also, its a complicated disorder.. some things will be vague or unanswered and while I have DID myself, i plan to keep some of this pretty surface level because i didnt make Min to be about DID, i just made Min to be Min. In short, Min’s inner world is not unlike a normal mind but with two differences: 1) The ‘characters’ inside Min’s head are not just made up for the world, they’re alters- but along side them are normal inner characters who are not alters at all. 2) doors lead to other “levels” and in some ways cause a bit of a Mind inside a mind... inside a mind situation. Min is polyfragmented, and many parts of their mind as messy, unfinished, hard to traverse areas with no concrete alters. They manage it decently well thought, and while the mind may not look very tidy, they’re pretty alright.

What is Ergokinesis?

Ergokinesis (also called Energy Manipulation) is the ability to project and absorb, and manipulate energy for various effects. The term captures every kind of energy, but in Min’s case they focus on light and darkness. Which are part of the Ergokinesis umbrella- Photokinesis (light) and Achluokinesis (dark). In the world of Psychonauts, Ergokinesis is a very powerful ability and also a dangerous one. Many do not manage to manipulate more than the simpler tasks- light/lack of light, kinetic, psychical emotional energy.

Ergokinesis captures a LOT of stuff and i wont explain it all- in some ways it is not unlike the typical Psi-blast, as Ergokinesis allows one to focus energy into beams in its simplest form. But the umbrella is big, and quite dangerous. It is often not explored and usually much of the information is kept away from public eyes in order to not encourage learning it. Ergokinesis can include manipulation of gravity, dark matter, null space and (very rarely acheived) quantum energy.

As scary as it sounds, it takes up far too much psychic energy for one person most of the time. Min cannot achieve any of those abilities, and Min is one of the few who can put energy into light manipulation that is known to exist.

How did Min learn that ability? Are they powerful because they have DID? Why is it okay that they know it, but others shouldnt? Backstory??

First off- Min’s DID does not make them powerful. It does nothing to their existing powers or brain. Min has a very unknown past and started learning Ergokinesis from an unknown source when young. They were hopped wrong various homes through their life and when one guardian decided to put them in Psychic Summer Camp, their tendency for light manipulation was noticed immediately. It was confusing at first, to realize such a young psychic could do it.

With permission after camp, they were whisked away to be taught more properly. The psychonauts wanted to learn from them how they learned it, as it was so un-studied. They also wanted to make sure Min wouldn’t end up capable of being destructive, due to the scope of ergokinesis. It was a messy time, growing up in programs with teachers and psychics they didnt know. but they eventually grew to loving the Summer camp as they went back with the psychics every year for a few years. Regardless of being treated in a very strict manner, the psychonauts were nice- Min liked the notion of helping others with their powers, but still wanted aware that what they could do was to be kept hush-hush...

In their mid teens they were treated to school- a psychic school, and was given a slightly more normal chance at life. Just a little. Ergokinesis was never talked of, so when they would have monthly meetings with the psychonauts, they started to ask. They eventually learned the scope of such powers.

Long story short- Min became a psychonaut, but it was with the sole intention of making them a bearer of Ergokinesis and all of its potential- Min is the only known psychonauts to know of it. They are seen as a figure to go to in an emergency with such powers, but also seen as a valuable piece of knowledge that should be kept quiet.

Min’s status as a freelance agent helps for personal reasons, but it also helps keeping those unaware of where they live and what they do. For the same reasons, Min keeps their name and history quiet vague and doesnt directly speak about their Ergokinesis even if they use it.

thats all i will write for now... i have a Lot to go into but those are some basics lol.

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts #pn oc #digital art #pn2 #art #sketch #artist #artists on tumblr #digital artist #my oc #oc art #my art #oc #original character #min #did #dissociative identity disorder

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lafayetteworld · 3 years

Text

Robin 2021

Okay, so it's been a while since I've been actively posting on tumblr, mainly because I haven’t had time. That being said, the commentary I am about to make on the Robin 2021 series is not meant to offend anyone and while I am particularly critical, I also acknowledge that some people genuinely like it/prefer the direction its's going in. And that's fine. But I did want to break down why I feel the current series is just 'meh' to me at the moment and it’s not necessarily because Damian is potentially being shipped with a newly introduced character.

Please be aware, that there are lots of spoilers.

So, to start off, I am a big fan of the older Batman and Robin (2009) series, where Damian had partnered up first with Dick and later Bruce (2011). I do no think they are flawless, certainly. I think, in particular, the Nobody plot - excluding of course the interactions between Batman!Dick and Robin! Damian which are gold - was very good. In just a handful of issues, I think we were offered a great insight into Damian's character and how layered he is.

My first thoughts when I heard about Robin 2021, based on the announcement: Damian will follow his own path, for some reason he retains the Robin moniker which is weird but okay, it does seem like something he'd do I suppose. He will participate in mortal kombat-sort-of-tournament, which will showcase his abilities and in the process, 'he will seek his own destiny' (which I believe was a line used in the actual announcement). The reason he wants to win? Initially, it appeared to be only because he wanted to prove to be the world's best fighter -- which by the way, how is only a tournament of this level only coming up now? Anyways, ignored that. Not a big deal. The idea of watching Damian fight different opponents was appealing either way.

The art of those comics is perhaps nowhere as striking/appealing as Robin 2021 and there's certainly not as many elements to it, but there was just something about it. I stopped reading comics after, for reasons I can't recall but I do remember finding out that Damian was killed off sometime after. I was super heartbroken over it but luckily I found out about it right around the time DC decided to bring him so really I had to wait a short while to see the little shit being Robin again.

I am not as familiar with the arc on Alfred's death but I know Damian watched what was basically his grandfather figure die in front of his eyes. How it was addressed after was rather poorly and that's a discussion for another time, just as it is that hot mess of Gleason's Titans.

My hopes may have been too high in thinking we will be offered the introspection we'd seen in Batman and Robin, or him deciding what type of vigilante he wants to be. Like who remembers Damian admitting 'sometimes I don't know who I am or what I want' or him saying he does not wish to be like Nobody. That was so poignant.

First issue of Robin 2021 was a disappointment. I know that there's a lot of damage to the character that had to be addressed but why did he die from like the beginning? Why is it the first thing we see is the author's OC defeat him? I mean, we really didn't need that to find the tournament's rules. Anyway, I was so sold on the art that I could have overlooked all that, except then the art became inconsistent so.....

Do I think Flatline's design is awesome? Yep. Do I like that she is potentially a badass female fighter? Sure. Do I like her abilities? Somewhat? They haven't been explored that much. But to me, having an OC appear out of nowhere and kill the character I was hoping to watch mature/develop is a bit underwhelming. Then, we start getting references of how poetic it is that Damian may fall in love with the first girl that kills him. I thought it was funny at the beginning but subsequent issues only seem to point that actually, the author does want to use Flatline/romance in this journey of growth that Damian is undergoing. I mean, we really shouldn't be romanticizing that she killed him? The girl is serious about winning too. That she caught him off guard is actually rather awesome but I don't think it had to mean anything more than Damian meeting a potentially dangerous fighter and that he needs to be less reckless.

Damian is a pretty complex/difficult character with a lot to figure out. Why does he need a girlfriend? Why can't he have friends that helps him grow or mentor figures? Him and Rose have such a great dynamic, for example.

I see a lot of people saying 'well, he's a teenager boy so it's normal'. Yeah of course it is. But why can't it be the opposite? Damian isn't a normal teenager. Out there, may be teenagers who feel the same. They don’t care about this stuff.

It is so frustrating, and underwhelming. Not because there's anything wrong with Damian having a crush. Not because there's necessarily anything wrong with Flatline. But because there's no need.

Why is it just because he's a teenager he has to have a romantic interest? If romance is introduced in a plot, surely it doesn't have to be just because 'he's a teenager'. And if he does, why does it have to be an OC that hasn't been explored very well? Flatline could be a seriously cool character without needing to be a romantic interest for Damian and vice versa, Damian has so much to figure out on his own. So for me it's not the shipping that’s an issue, it’s the reasoning and how it may perpetuate clichés when there’s other angles that could be explored.

Also, why the hell is Alfred used to drive Flatline's likeability? If Alfred is Damian's guilt manifesting, then that's actually Damian thinking that?

'I like this one, Master Damian.'

Seriously. I really hope we end up finding out that was tied in with Flatline's ability or something. So, Williamson won't explore Damian's guilt over Alfred but he'll give us a panel where Alfred (or a manifestation of him) is basically giving his thumbs up for his OC. That doesn’t sit well with me. Not so early in the series, anyway.

Why is this whole manga thing keep coming back? Yes, Damian reads manga. I loved this addition and I think it's great that Williamson actually brought it in. The fact that it was Flatline who found it seems cliché. And no, I don't think it's a parallel between the shojo manga characters and them two. I really hope that particular manga has a deeper meaning than that. The fact that we keep seeing the blood sprayed (or is it cuts? not sure) on it does seem to hint at that.

There were some good moments. Damian and Dick. Basically every single interaction between Damian and Ravager. The whole Damian and Conner could have been developed better, because it seemed rather sudden they had a heart to heart when Damian can be such a distrusting little shit. Damian reuniting with Goliath.

Why is it that we're five issues into this series and it's all over the place? I don't dislike it. The art is great, although there's so many inconsistencies. But it's been super hard to feel in any way about it other than just 'meh'.

Issue #6 was boring. I didn't mind Flatline and Damian analysing other fighters, it was interesting actually, but that it's still being framed as heading towards a romantic relationship is so.....well, eugh.

Overall, I just don't feel there's enough...substance? Damian does interact with a wide variety of characters and there are a lot of things going on - batfamily searching for him, Ra’s Al Ghul (which was funny yet so odd the way he was characterized), the whole tournament and magic island, so on.

Flatline is not the issue for me, but rather one part of why the series has not managed to appeal to me. I do feel there's a bit too much of her. Or rather, there's not enough of her as a character and too much of the whole 'they're teenagers so they'll have to end up having a crush on one another because he's a boy and she's a girl who literally stole his heart'. Like, I wouldn’t mind having Flatline or other fighters background explored, just to see the types of people they are and so on.

I wish there'd more of Damian's inner thoughts too. If not that, then give us more fights. Not just snippets. It's a tournament. Let's see how badass they all are. Damian’s fight scenes in #6 were beautiful but brief. I hope the next issues will give us more of that. As someone who does like Damian x OC fics, I can’t blame the author for wanting to hype their own OC, but I am also a great fan of friends to lovers, slow burns, friendships can be just as great as romantic relationships, of taking the time for mental/emotional growth.

Anyways, if you've made it to the end of this commentary, I applaud you. Once again, if you do like the whole Damian x Flatline thing, that's cool. I don't, but I do understand to an extent why people find it appealing. And if you think the Robin 2021 series is amazing, then I am happy for you -- I wish I could be this enthusiastic about it.

P.S just saw the cover for issue #7 or is it #8 ? I think I may cry.

#damian wayne #flatlinedc #robin 2021 #spoilers #just an analysis of how I am finding this series so far #robin 2021 spoilers it's not a terrible series but not good either imo

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zet-sway · 3 years

Text

OC GAME THING

heY THANKS A BUNCH FOR TAGGING ME I had a lot of fun with this

I was tagged by like at least three people @spookyvalentine @rosenkow and @yennas THANK YOU ALL OF YOU THANK YOU

December Shepard

Look ya'll I suck at modding so her hair just isn't what I envision and that's okay lmao

General-

Name: December Shepard

Alias(es): Jack calls her Big D. Otherwise she goes by Shepard or Dess (and eventually Siha c:)

Gender: Cisgender woman with tomboy / androgynous gender expression

Age: 32 by the end of the war. Shepard and the alliance agreed to count the two years she was dead in her age, simply to avoid the confusion of having to explain "i was dead for two years" to every person who contested her age being two years short of her birth year.

Birthdate: April 11, 2154

Place of birth: United States Civilian Station Hadid USCS-HDD-3963

Hometown: Lived on the CS Hadid for a while but ultimately got jostled around with her military parents.

Spoken language(s): Galactic standard / English

Sexual preference: Demi-pansexual/bisexual

Occupation: Joined the Alliance at 18, became a fighter mechanic, then whoops she did something important and she's been selected for ITC and now she's a Spectre. (I'm still figuring out how this happened lmao)

Appearance-

Eye color: Greeeeen

Hair color: Red

Height: 5'-7"

Scars: Long scar on her left forearm from a door that had a sharp edge. Post-war she's all fucked up from the crucible including a line across her scalp that just won't grow back.

Favorite-

Color: Red and green

Hair Scale color: green

Song: I don't know what kind of music they're listening to in 2180whatever but here's a playlist I made for her. (Spoiler alert it's all 90's music because I think she'd listen to nostalgic shit)

Food: Coffee (Yes it's food and she will fight you)

Drink: Coffee coffee coffee coffee

Have They-

Passed university: Graduated N school so uhhh

Had sex: Prior to Thane had a handful of flings.

Had sex in public: In the alliance, privacy is hard to come by lol

Gotten pregnant: Nope.

Kissed a boy: Ya

Kissed a girl: First kiss was a girl

Gotten tattoos: No but would like to

Gotten piercings: yeah you should have seen her mom's face when she came home to find her daughter had a lip ring at 16. She doesn't wear it anymore since joining the alliance.

Been in love: Oohhoohoooo Sere Krios

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: *laughs in N7*

Are They-

A virgin: Virginity, as we know, is a construct designed to put women in arbitrary categories of "purity" or whatever. Also this question was asked already lol

A cuddler: Yes but also bored easily so doesn't like to cuddle for very long unless it's bedtime or unless there's some kind of movie or conversation happening.

A kisser: yeah and she's had more than a few makeout sessions with various people throughout her life. Kissing is fine - it's moving past the kiss that's hard for her.

Scared easily: No fear / one fear meme about losing Thane or suffocating in space again

Jealous easily: She experiences jealousy and then manages it like an adult.

Dominant: Maybe sorta kinda has a thing for people calling her "Commander" in bed - but she won't fucking admit it.

Submissive: In the bedroom: not with anyone but Thane - but that's more of an exploratory thing than something they do all the time. Submission is an act of trust for her. Outside the bedroom: she didn't get promoted for her ability to submit lol

In love: Yes ( ◜‿◝ )♡

Single: Nope

Random Questions (tw for self harm/suicide mention)-

Have they harmed themselves: Not intentionally.

Thought of suicide: Thought about it, after being resurrected by Cerberus.

Attempted suicide: No

Wanted to kill someone: She wanted to kill Dr. Gavin Archer lmao

Have / had a job: Former mechanic aboard the SSV Hawking.

Have any fears: The reapers winning. Becoming a reaper husk. Getting spaced again. Losing Thane. Mom finding out she's in bed with a lizard man.

Family-

Sibling(s): None to speak of

Parent(s): Hannah Shepard, with whom she has a rocky but not horrible relationship. Dad passed away before she joined the Military and it was a whole thing and she doesn't want to talk about it.

Children: No. And she won't call Kolyat her stepson, but she does treat him like family.

Significant other: Eventually marries Thane, some years after the war.

Pet(s): Cats. Post-retirement she has chickens.

I'm tagging @commander-krios @saecookie @shut-up-alexa @quietonewisp @battlemastershepard @golickadrell yahhh uhhhhh I'm so bad at tags IF YOU WANT TO DO THIS PLEASE FEEL FREE :D no pressure

#look at me just MAKING SHIT UP #YEAH I MADE SHIT UP #YUPPPPP #december shepard #that's all original characters are is made up right??? this is ok RIGHT?????? fuck i'm nervous #knees weak palms spaghettititititit

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Check pinned post for latest chapter updates💕

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20moonchild21 · 3 years

Text

Gif by @hoseokb

ꨄ•๛Gentleman [Hyung line]

Pairing: BTS x female!oc

Warnings: mild swearing

Words: 1400+

ッ

๛匕нє σиє ωнєяє тнє вσχѕ нανє gσσ∂ мαииєяѕ∙ꨄ

♕

J̸in

Jin took a deep breath. The fresh air flooded through his body, and it felt so good. During the lockdown their balcony was the only place where he could be 'outside', but still this felt different.

It took him a while to convince his manager to actually let him go alone to the grocery story, but somehow he did it. Beside the bodyguard that walked next to him he even was almost alone. Bur he didn't mind.

As the two of them finally reached the store, Jin pulled his hat further down his face and his mask further up right under his eyes. Lucky for him, all the people had to wear those Marks now so he wouldn't stand out anymore.

"I will wait outside." His bodyguard said to him.

Jin went over to grab a shopping card and went inside the store. Slowly and step by step he went through the small list Namjoon had wrote for him this morning.

"Milk, sugar and ehhmm...." He looked over the shelves. "Ah, there they are. Noodles."

After 45 minutes he finally put the last package of flour into the shopping cart and made his way over to the checkouts. Lucky for him again, this day there weren't much people in the super marked so he wouldn't have to wait long.

"Uuurrrg...." A noise met his ear and confused he turned around to find the source, but he saw no one. As he was about to start walking he heard it again. "Coooommmeeee ooooonnnn...urrrrrg!"

Slowly, he made his way over to the passage the noises came from and what he saw made him chuckle inside.

In front of him stood a small, blonde haired girl. She stood on her tiptoes, in front of the noodle shelf, and was reaching for the last package of spaghetti which was located on the top of the shelf. Obviously, too high for her to reach because her fingers didn't even were close to the hight of the noodles.

Still chuckling, he walked up behind the small girl and easily reached for the noodles. As he passt it towards her, she smile shyly.

"Thank you. They should put some stools next to the shelves. For the small people." She joked softly and took it out from his hands.

"You're welcome." He said and smiled, too. "If you need some more help, I Am here."

"Actually, the rice was put up pretty high, too." She shyly mumbled.

y̸̸̸oongi

The award show had been successful for the boys and their management. So 3 awards, a long speech and a afterparty later, the boys found themselves in their dressing room. All of them empty of energy and tired.

"Oh man." Jimin groaned as he stretched out his legs. "I just want to sleep. Those afterparties are stressing me out."

The boys were waiting in their dressing room for the rest of their management that had accompanied them the whole evening. Those included their social media manager, bodyguards, fashion designers, some stylists, their manager and his two assistants.

"Alright, guys come one." Their manager stepped into the room and motioned for them to stand up. "Last challenge of the day: Make it out alive. Let's move!"

Together, the group made their way through the hallways and outside of the big studio the award show had took place in. Outside of the big foyer, a very large stair was leading down towards the waiting cars.

Yoongi was on of the last of the group to step through the giant doors outside. The fresh night air hit his face. It was cold but not too cold. He started walking again and as he was about to walk down the steps of the stairs, he suddenly heard a small curse behind him. Looking around he saw one of the assistant of his manager.

The small girl was wearing a beautiful gown that reached the floor and decent make up. When she stood on top of the steps, she lifted the hem of her dress and began to carefully walk down those steep stairs. Yoongi saw her struggling to keep her dress up and not fall over that heels at the same time.

Immediately, he turned around and held out his arm for the girl to hold on. Unsure what to do, she first looked at his outstretched arm and then at his face, before she carefully wrapped her right arm around his left one.

"Thank you." She shyly said while the duo made their way down the steps.

Yoongi, the man with few words, didn't made a scene out of it. He simply smiled and nodded politely.

(I laughed so hard when I found this picture)

h̸oseok

It was the time of the year the company held their yearly group dinner which basically means that that whole stuff crew came together for lunch or dinner.

The boys were all wearing their suits and currently waiting in front of the restaurant for their interpreter to show up.

Yes, for this dinner the boys needed an interpreter because many of the cooperation partners that would join them this evening were foreigners.

"Urrg!" Yoongi groaned while he tapped his feet nervously on the ground. "I hate those dinners. Honestly, why do they need us there? They are just talking about business stuff."

"Because you are the face of BigHit, Yoongs." The small girl, their interpreter, said and laughed at the boys eyes rolling.

She wore a beautiful dress that reached her knees, along with some heals und decent make up.

A few minutes later, the group found themselves inside the restaurant that was completely reserved for this company dinner.

"Okay, guys." Their manager had came up to them. "Your table is over there. I want you too behave and show your best side. We need these cooperations. No noodle slurping contest, no fries in the nose and I don't want you to test who can put the most chicken nuggets in his mouth. I am serious! Grace, you watch them, right?"

The girl nodded but even she couldn't hide her smile at those memories. After all, she had been with the boys from the beginning.

When the eighth of the reached their table, Hoseok suddenly made a big step next to her, reached for her chair and pulled it back gesturing for the girl to sit down. Surprised by this gesture, she blushed a little bit but smile.

"How obliging of you." She said quietly while he sat down next to her. "Thank you, Hobi."

n̸amjoon

Heavy rain drops fell down on earth and Namjoon. Jin had told him this morning to be back by 1 o'clock or else the rain would catch him, which is exactly what was happening right now.

Lucky him, the reception woman at the BigHit building had something like a spare umbrella for him to use. He had pulled the collar of his coat tighter around his neck, before he opened the umbrella.

He walked faster through the street of Seoul and with every step you could hear the squishy sound of his heavy shoes hitting the wet ground. As he was halfway home, the tall boy noticed something in the corner of his eyes.

Waiting at a traffic light was a girl. She was way shorter than him, but that wasn't the only thing that caught his attention immediately.

The small girl had wrapped her arms tightly around the thin coat she wore while her blonde hair (he assumed she had blond hair but because it was soaked by the rain it looked much darker) sticked to her head and face.

Namjoon chuckled a little bit to himself: It seems like he wasn't the only one that got surprised by this weather.

Without thinking much, we walked closer to the girl and when he was close enough he reached out his arm to hold his umbrella over he body.

For a short moment the girl looked confused at the stranger that just had showed up next to her, but when she realized what he was doing, Namjoon could see a small shade of red spreading over her cheeks.

"You looked like you needed it, too." He smiled friendly down at her, while taking a step closer so he could stand under the piece of fabric, too. Though, he always paid attention to not step too close toward the stranger girl.

"Thank you." She politely said back and bowed her head a little bit.

———————————/////—————————

Hello!

I had so much fun writing this!

Maknae line is following!

Having any recommendations, requests or anything else? Please don't hesitate to write me!

Stay healthy and safe

~ M.

#bts scenarios #bts #bts scenes #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts imagination #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #yoongi min #jeon jungguk #jimin park #taehyung kim #gentleman #bangtan #Korea #kpop

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solesurvivorpaigeargot · 3 years

Text

HOLY HELLO, friends and followers! It's once again that time, time for...

SKETCHY SATURDAY!

This week, we're bringing back one of my favorite types of prompt-- the Quote prompt!

This one is pretty simple, but I still gotta lay down the rules. Follow me past the read-more if you're wanting to participate this week!

This week is all about the dialog-- requesters may select a character and a quote to send in, after which I'll do the rest. If you're an old hand at this event, this is exactly the same as previous quotation prompts, just with an updated quote list.... buuuuut you can still validate my time spent writing the guidelines every week by reading them anyway XD

For the rest of ye, ONWARDS!

To send a VALID request for this week's Sketchy Saturday, send an ASK to my ASKBOX containing the following:

The CHARACTER you'd like sketched ---- Canon? Yep! OC? Hell yes! Everybody's welcome so long as they're from the Fallout Universe! ---- One character per ask ---- Sending an OC? Send your request ask FIRST, and THEN send reference info to my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have a reference image? Text description is fine! Going from text lets me flex my character design muscles!

The NUMBER of your selected quote ---- Numbers help me find things faster, but you can transcribe the quote, too, if you wanna. ---- Got more than one favorite? List up to three, in order of preference. If someone else has used your first choice, I'll move on to your second [or third]. ---- Still can't choose? Send me 'Dealer's Choice!' and I'll pick one... or maybe make up something new on the spot ;3

As always, I'd like to remind everyone that the artist is a singular human, managing this event to try and give people some joy during a time when there seems to be a dwindling supply. Please remember to be polite, say please and thanks, reblog the art after it's finished, make 'oooo' noises in the tags, all that good shit.

Kay? M'kay.

And with that all outta the way... THE QUOTES!

CW for a lot of colorful language, implied violence, and general vulgarity XD

“Excellence knows no age.”

"Whoa, whoa, calm down-- my metaphorical dick can only get so hard."

"Like... a broken clock is right twice a day, but I feel like I'm insulting the clock with that comparison."

"You know, people in this town have a habit of getting in over their heads... like at the bottom of the ocean."

"What the fuck is that look for?"

"Shhhhh.... the adults are talking."

"I did NOT just spend six days in a hole to NOT get drunk at the first opportunity."

"And whether you believe that... or you're correct, it makes a nice hot take."

“Goddamnit, we fought a revolution so we wouldn’t have to pay any attention to the FUCKING British!

“We plan ahead; that way, we don’t do anything right now."

"If you don't stop smirking at me like that, I'm gonna have to kiss you."

"Shenanigans! I'm calling Shenanigans!!"

"Fuck you guys, I'm going home."

"That would imply some kind of agency-- I assure you, I did not CHOOSE this in any capacity."

"On a scale of one to ten, I think I'm hanging out somewhere in the concept of infinity."

"Got the short end of the stick, so I started beating people with it."

"That was so low on the list of things I expected to happen, it was in another state."

"BALLS TO THE WALL, BOYS!"

“You put a whole new shine on the word overkill.”

"Above my paygrade."

"I'm surrounded by assholes..."

"Besides-- in my professional opinion, the change is an improvement."

"A lifetime of preparation... and I end up a REFUGEE?"

".... are you not wearing pants right now?"

“I want a man with a tattoo on his dick! Have I got the right man?”

“I’m short for my height.”

"This isn't a joke, you shit-sucking asshole!"

"Count to... ten."

"Well that's just recockulous."

“So where the hell is the goddamn golden oldie coming from?”

"I always take my own advice under advisement-- you, on the other hand, should pay a little more goddamn attention."

"Listen, babe-- we've been attacked, chased, shot at, poisoned, and blown up! HOW could it get any WORSE?!"

“It will get colder and colder until we all have to go to hell just to warm up.”

“Broke into the wrong goddamn rec-room, didn’t you, you bastard?!”

“When you need it, and don’t have it, you sing a different tune.”

“I only speak two languages; English and Bad English!”

"[sigh]... 'Yer face' is NOT a numerical value."

“Nothing is impossible, only mathematically improbable.”

“I mean, [insert your faction of choice] offers to give you anything you want and you ask for just two cases of dynamite?”

“People keep giving me rings, but I really think a small death ray would be more practical.”

“Or, or, and this is the really important part, we might not die.”

"Tch, amateurs."

"Violence isn't the answer, it's the question-- and the answer is yes."

As always, this will be going online just as I'm crashing for the night, but the askbox is open and ready to collect requests right now! So get yours in, and I'll see ya in the morning when I start arting things up! :D

-Loor

#Sketchy Saturday #Sketchy Saturday Prompt #Quotation Prompt #Fallout #Fallout Fandom Event #If you can see this the askbox is open and collecting requests #right now #do it #do eeeeeeeeeet #and then reblog and tell your friends XD

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

The 100-Day Relationship

alternatively titled: 10 Months Love

Member: Seonghwa Pairing: Seonghwa/OC Group: ATEEZ

Genre: Fluff, romance, comedy, tiny bit of angst (if you squint), fake dating

Summary: When wealthy socialite Juhyun is facing pressure to bring a date to the biggest wedding of the year and the beginning of the social season among the elite, she hurriedly asks an old college schoolmate, Park Seonghwa to be her boyfriend for the entire season. The longer they put up appearances, the more they realize that they never want the arrangement to end.

Things to note: Art curator!Seonghwa, a lot of expensive-ness going on. Other idols are mentioned as well (if you’ve read my fics, you know there will be). Tag list is forever open if you want to keep tabs on this fic, hehet!

Warnings: Some cussing, we’ll be feeling poor and broke with what’s in here.

Tag list: @closer-stars , @masterninjacow , @kunrengui

Masterlist

Chapter 2

“So who is he?” Kibum asked the next day over breakfast.

Kim Kibum was the son of the Kims that owned a chain of hotels and condominiums. The very building Juhyun lived in was owned by his family. The youngest son, he was a dedicated bachelor while his older siblings did all the corporate work. Kibum was also Juhyun’s best friend and constant date if she needed someone for an event, but she thought it would definitely change this time.

“Who is who?” Juhyun raised a brow.

“The guy you were with yesterday, grocery bags and all, I told you to call me after that meeting you had but you didn’t,” Kibum grinned. “So, who was he?”

“Park Seonghwa, he’s an old schoolmate of mine, and the guy,” Juhyun paused. “The guy I have arranged to be my boyfriend for this entire social season…?” She looked at him, a little wary about what she revealed.

Kibum gaped at her, unable to hide the surprise as he tried to understand what she did for a few seconds. “Juhyun….really? Are you that desperate?”

Juhyun rolled her eyes at him. “No, well, maybe, but seeing as Jihan practically humiliated me when he cheated, I’m taking any chance I get. Seonghwa knows and understands what we’re going to get ourselves into anyway.”

“Does Jinri know about this? You ought to tell the bride you’re bringing a plus one, given that she’s been bridezilla these past few weeks,” Kibum joked while taking a sip of his mimosa.

“I didn’t need to. Jinri just assumed I’d be bringing someone, she always says it’s in case I finally move on from Jihan,” She sighed. “Well, any day now, I’d have to meet Seonghwa again to go dress shopping.”

“Dress shopping? You mean no designer’s dressing you yet?” Kibum raised a brow.

“No, because they’re all occupied with the other people attending this wedding and their parents,” Juhyun shook her head. “I figured I’d reuse the blue Elie Saab gown I only wore once and it was during a magazine’s anniversary party. I was only there for 20 minutes anyway.”

Kibum sat up. “Either way, I’m looking forward to meeting Seonghwa, probably make him squirm about your relationship-”

Juhyun slapped his arm. “You will not. Now that you know that Seonghwa and I are pretending to be dating, I won’t let him be subject to your foolishness,” She blew a raspberry at him, making him laugh out loud.

“Alright fine. Anyway, you’re coming with me to Macau, right? I promised Elise I would be meeting her there.”

Juhyun raised a brow at the name. “Elise? Your new pursuit?”

“We’ve only been seeing each other for a month, Juhyun, I doubt it would last, but maybe I could still see her long enough until after the wedding.”

“I’m still keeping my fingers crossed for the two of you, and yes I’ll be going.”

That gave him an idea. “Ah, why don’t you bring Seonghwa along? We could have it like a double date,” He suggested.

It was Juhyun’s turn to look surprised. “...What?”

“Bring Seonghwa along. We’re taking my jet anyway, and it’s likely that Elise and I won’t be leaving our hotel room so I might not have time to take you around while we’re there,” Kibum winked, making her cringe.

“I-I guess I’ll try and see if he’s free,” Juhyun shrugged. “I can’t promise you that he’ll agree to come, we haven’t even set the date for when I’ll go dress shopping yet either, much less Jinri announcing when the wedding shower is.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask,” Kibum pointed out. “Tell him I asked, I really did ask you to bring him along after all.”

They sat up when they heard the elevator doors open in the hall. “Unnie,” They heard the voice of her sister Jihyun, sounding even more chipper than the last time she came to visit. Juhyun’s sister Jihyun, was known among society circles for her fashion sense. She was also dating Moon Bin, a celebrity choreographer, the two of them having been together for 4 years, one year more than when she and Jihan dated.

Juhyun and Kibum got up to see her. “Yeah?” She asked.

“I was- Oh hi Kibum,” Jihyun waved at him before handing Juhyun a lavender envelope. “That’s for the upcoming epilepsy benefit. It’s next week.”

Juhyun looked through the contents of the envelope. “Jihyun, did you know, your sister’s bringing a date,” Kibum suddenly said, making her nudge him hard. He laughed out loud, amused at her reaction.

Jihyun’s ears perked up. “...Who is it? It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Believe it or not, it’s not me,” Kibum thought to egg her on. “Juhyun’s got a boyfriend, the two of them have been seeing each other for a while now too.”

“Kibum!” Juhyun nudged him hard again, and he laughed even more.

Jihyun stared at her. “Well? Who is he? What’s his name? And more importantly, why haven’t you said anything?”

“Park Seonghwa, an old schoolmate of mine, he owns the Mars Art Gallery,” Juhyun replied. “And I didn’t want to jinx it. Things have been going very well,” She added, Kibum trying his hardest to stifle his laughter.

“What does he look like?” She could tell Jihyun was trying not to squeal with how unusually calm she sounded.

Juhyun took her phone out, showing her the selca they took together, leaning away when, as she expected, Jihyun squealed. “Oh my god, unnie … He’s gorgeous! Okay now I have to meet him when you bring him to the benefit, okay?” Jihyun brought out her own phone, tapping furiously that Juhyun knew she was telling their parents. “I have to go, I just came by to give you that invitation and now I’m glad I did! See you at the benefit, unnie! Bye Kibum!” She rushed back to the hall where the elevator was.

As soon as they heard the doors close again, Juhyun nudged Kibum again. “You really had to tell her, didn’t you?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

Kibum laughed. “Come on, Juhyun, think of that as a trial run before the wedding. Seonghwa will be better prepared by the big day once you bring him along to Macau, and at that benefit we now have to go to.”

“Alright, but because you’re insisting I bring him along, you are now sworn to secrecy,” Juhyun beamed. “If you tell, I’ll tell everyone you’re marrying Elise.”

Kibum feigned surprise then nodded. “Alright, you drive a hard bargain. This whole thing is safe with me.”

Hongjoong gaped at his friend. Seonghwa invited him over to eat lunch at the gallery, along with both their longtime friends who also worked for him, Kang Yeosang and Jeong Yunho, when he told all of them what was going on. Hongjoong worked as a producer for A Entertainment, but he also had a side gig as a street fashion designer, having launched capsule collections that were regular fixtures at Seoul Fashion Week. Seonghwa could argue that Hongjoong was also one of the few that actually succeeded in pursuing their major, and in Hongjoong’s case, it was music production. “...Are you joking?” Yunho managed to ask, and Seonghwa shook his head.

“Really? Was that why she was talking to you?” Hongjoong chimed in.

“Yes. It-It’s just for this whole social season she’s got going on and she said after all of that we won’t have to have anything to do with each other anymore,” Seonghwa explained.

“And you’re okay with this? “ Hongjoong raised a brow, wanting to be sure. “People of her kind of crowd aren’t exactly the nicest.”

“I know, I know, but I can hold my own, you’re making it sound as if I don’t deal with those types on an almost regular basis, rich stiffs tend to buy paintings from the gallery,” Seonghwa pointed out. “But I know Juhyun, I know she isn’t like that. She’s the opposite of a rich stiff. I mean, she’s rich, but she’s no stiff.”

“I do know that, we all know that, we’ve all gone to school with her,” Yunho spoke. “It’s the people in her circle that we know are those rich stiffs you’re talking about.”

“Well, I won’t say I’m not concerned, but who knows, maybe you’ll blend right in,” Yeosang commented. “Looks like the gallery’s going to get a ton of publicity once Seonghwa makes his society debut.”

The art curator frowned as they tucked back into their food. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he paused eating to take it out. It was a message from Juhyun.

Epilepsy benefit next week. My sister’s dying to meet you already. Think we can meet tomorrow?

An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his three friends. “That was her, wasn’t it?” Hongjoong eyed him.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Seonghwa replied coolly before typing his reply.

Sure. We can meet at that cafe again for lunch?

Seconds later, he saw a response.

It’s a deal.

“What did she say this time?” Yunho asked, wiping his mouth with a tissue.

“We’ve got our first event to go to next week. It’s an epilepsy benefit and we’re meeting tomorrow to go over the details, I guess,” He said. “And her sister wants to meet me.”

“Her sister? Choi Jihyun?!” Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, the same Choi Jihyun who is already dating that choreographer from F Entertainment,” Seonghwa remembered, making the shorter male frown and Yeosang and Yunho snicker. “I don’t think she’s willing to leave that guy for you either.”

Yunho and Yeosang burst into fits of laughter.

Seonghwa arrived at the cafe the next day, quickly taking the table close to the counter so he could look at the menu while he waited. He wondered what they were planning to do today while also thinking of what his friends had said. It was Juhyun’s friends that they were wary of, and he should be wary of them too. He still wanted to make a good impression. There was the publicity his art gallery was going to have once they go public.

“Hey.”

He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Juhyun, looking a little embarrassed yet for some odd reason she looked different. It was then he realized that they seemed to be wearing the same pattern on their clothes; blue polo stripes against white, her blouse with his dress shirt under his blue blazer. If anything, they looked like a couple attending a gala on a yacht. “Hi,” He got up to greet her.

“Did you wait long? I’m sorry,” Juhyun said. “And what a coincidence too,” She gestured to their clothes, making the two of them chuckle. Seonghwa gestured for her to sit down and she sat across from him.

“I came just a little before you did so you weren’t late at all,” He assured her. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just the raspberry iced tea?” Juhyun replied.

“Got it, I’ll be back,” He smiled, padding towards the counter.

Juhyun watched him, thinking about what Kibum told her. One of those social events would definitely have her parents in attendance, and the fact that her sister was aware of her so-called “relationship” with Seonghwa, it wouldn’t be surprising if they and their friends already knew and were trying to find out more about him. She just hoped he was prepared for it.

He returned a moment later, holding the tray with their drinks and set it down. “So what’s going to happen at this benefit? Other than your sister wanting to meet me?” He sounded eager.

“Well, my sister is an understatement, pretty much everyone who knows me will want to know who you are and how we met and what family you’re from, what business you own or specialize in, all of that stuff,” Juhyun swirled her straw in her drink.

“Oh, right, well, at least we have that covered. What time should I pick you up?” Seonghwa took a sip of his tea, looking at the invitation Juhyun slid towards him. “...Wow, this benefit seems huge,” He read the rest of the details. “It’s hard to book a function room in this hotel. Everything had to be made six months in advance,” It made him think of one high-profile exhibit he ended up hosting and the headache it caused him trying to book a venue months in advance.

“8:30, how about that? Cocktails are at seven, but I’d rather not go in for the small talk,” Juhyun frowned at the thought. The last thing she wanted to do at an event like that was to pretend to be friendly with everyone, including Jihan.

“It’s okay with me,” He nodded. “What time should we leave?”

“Because I don’t plan on staying there very long, 8:45?” Juhyun asked. Seonghwa stared at her incredulously. “I know it seems like a waste of effort, but really, events like that are incredibly boring.”

“So why do you even go in the first place?” Seonghwa was confused. He never understood why people of her stature would only afford to be at a black-tie event for a few minutes at a time.

“They’re also expecting I shell out some money to the cause, and it’s a good cause, I just don’t like who I have to mingle with for the sake of that cause,” Juhyun looked down as she took a sip of her drink. “And, for the sake of being petty, I plan on showing up on Jihan and Eunbi, which is why I asked you to meet me, because today’s a day we have to prepare for those events.”

“Prepare?”

“Yeah,” Juhyun nodded. “We’re going to go shopping for your suits.”

Seonghwa froze. “...Today?”

“Yeah, I have to look for a dress too because I only have one dress to recycle, and Jinri is going to demand to see what I plan to wear now before she freaks out later, yeah, you’ll meet her in the events too,” Juhyun added.

“Alright then, so where do we go first?”

“Department store, for your suits. I know just the place, well, it’s the only acceptable place to get fitted for suits in my opinion, I’ve never seen guys walk out of that place not looking good,” Juhyun said with a knowing look.

Seonghwa raised a brow. “...where is it?”

Juhyun smiled. “It’s an old place, but it’s great.”

They were standing in front of a Huntsman boutique at the topmost floor of the department store a while later. “This is what I was talking about…” Juhyun said quietly, glancing at him to see his reaction.

“...Here?” Seonghwa couldn’t hide how surprised he was.

“Yeah, what do you think? If you don’t want to, it’s okay, we can always go to where you usually get your suits…” Juhyun said, hoping she didn’t overstep any lines with him.

“No, no, it’s- I just only thought this was like the Kingsman movie for some reason,” Seonghwa assured her.

“You’ll need a few more suits for every event, and this is usually my father’s go-to shop whenever he has events, and these suits are made to last too,” Juhyun recalled what her father would always tell her mother. She took his hand. “Let’s go inside, we’re catching them on a quiet day.”

She led him inside the store, and Seonghwa looked at everything in awe. “Ah, Ms. Choi, hello,” He heard a man greet her, making him snap out of his momentary daze.

“Hello Basil, this is my boyfriend, Seonghwa,” She introduced them, Seonghwa immediately bowing. “He needs a few suits for this season.”

“Ah yes, busy time of year,” Basil replied, looking him up and down. “He has the built for a suit like ours, I’ll get your measurements and you could pick the fabric,” He gestured to the large rolls of fabric on the shelves behind the desk.

“Send me the total and I’ll make some calls,” Juhyun said. “Sorry, I know, I know what you’re already thinking,” She flashed Seonghwa a sheepish grin. “I promise everything else is on you to spend on me.”

“Now I’m getting nervous on how much I have to spend on you,” He teased.

“I swear I’m not as fancy as I probably seem right now, I don’t even go in here a lot,” She pointed out with a chuckle. “I buy my clothes where everyone buys their clothes.”

“I know, and I don’t doubt that at all,” Seonghwa kissed her cheek, the two of them freezing for a moment at the sudden display of affection. Juhyun felt her cheeks heat up, partly in embarrassment as it happened in front of Basil.

She watched Seonghwa get measured, eyes traveling to the fabrics as she tried to compose herself. She was initially worried about insisting on everything so far, but she was relieved that he was okay with whatever she showed him. “All the men in my family come to this tailor for their suits. Basil worked in the actual Savile Row shop,” She eyed the tailor, who just smiled.

Seonghwa looked impressed, lifting his arms when the tailor went to run a measuring tape along them. “Oh yes, Ms. Choi’s family have been loyal patrons at the Savile Row boutique. I remember having to measure your grandfather,” He replied. “I would personally recommend a navy blue velvet tuxedo jacket for one, bespoke of course.”

Juhyun nodded, giving Seonghwa an assuring look as well, sensing that he was still trying to get used to getting fitted. “Sure, h-how long until it’s done?” He spoke this time.

“For Ms. Choi’s date? Six weeks at the most, both of you won’t need to worry,” Basil assured them.

“Oh, now I see why we had to go here early,” Seonghwa’s eyes widened.

The two of them were walking along the dress boutiques a while later, stopping every now and then to look at the designs displayed on the mannequins. “There’s something else I have to talk to you about,” She said, as they stopped in front of a slightly more colorful dress shop. “My friend Kibum, he owns the building I live in, he’s inviting us to go with him to Macau.”

“Macau?” Seonghwa asked curiously.

“Macau,” Juhyun nodded. “He’s inviting you too to come with me, keep me company or something like that because he’s meeting his girlfriend there.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Really?”

“Yeah. He also wants to meet you. He’s one of my best friends. We’re taking his jet so you don’t have to worry about tickets or anything.”

“Alright then, I think I can leave for a week or something,” Seonghwa nodded. He hadn’t traveled in a while. Neither did Juhyun, who seemed especially surprised at his answer. The two of them figured they still had some getting to know each other to do. He noticed the green and black dress behind the mannequin. “That dress seems like it would look good on you,” He gestured to the display, making her turn around.

“You think so?” Juhyun nodded, looking at the details. “Let’s ask inside then.”

They quietly entered the shop, seeing all the mannequins dressed in long ball gowns and tuxedos. There were photos of celebrities on the walls having worn some of the dresses that were proudly on display, including the dress they were looking at. Juhyun rang the little bell on the desk, and her expression fell when out from the backroom was none other than Kim Eunbi herself, who looked just as disappointed to see her.

“Oh, well, well, well, if it isn’t Choi Juhyun and,” She tilted her head. “Park Seonghwa, right? Jihan told me about your new...squeeze.”

“Hello Eunbi,” Juhyun replied. “I was going to inquire about the dress on that display at the window-”

“Nice, isn’t it? I was inspired by The Devil Wears Prada, Seo Yeji went head over heels for that number, but you’re no Seo Yeji,” Eunbi pointed out.

“Of course I’m not Seo Yeji, I have a different name,” Juhyun quipped back.

Eunbi’s expression stiffened. “Well, if you think I’m going to sell you that dress, you’re probably kidding yourself. Off you go, chop chop,” She gestured them to go away.

“...Excuse me?” Seonghwa blurted out. He could feel his blood boil at the rudeness that was in front of him.

Eunbi laughed a mocking laugh. “Go on, chop chop, before I close this shop out of an abundance of caution. As if I would give any of you the pleasure of wearing my creations.”

Juhyun calmly nodded and turned on her heel. “Come, there are other places to shop,” She muttered to him, and he followed, his free hand curling into a fist as they closed the door, walking down the other direction to the other boutiques.

“If I didn’t care enough, I would’ve lost it at the way she treated you,” Seonghwa frowned as they walked.

“I kind of expected it anyway the moment I realized she owned that shop,” Juhyun said.

“If she knows who you are, she should’ve honestly feared you, you might have her kicked out of this place or something,” Seonghwa said.

“Maybe, since my family owns this department store.”

Seonghwa gaped at her. “Then all the more you should’ve done something, have her kicked out for being rude to you, she doesn’t deserve to be here, she doesn’t deserve to run her own line at all if she’s going to be like that.”

“I know, but it’s not worth my time, I’ve got other things to worry about, like what we’re going to do in Macau or something,” Juhyun chuckled, linking her arm with his. “Why would I waste my time trying to ruin her when I know I’m better off where I am anyway?”

That seemed to make him feel better, but he figured he’d say something if Eunbi tried to do anything again if they were going to see each other at the events. Seonghwa placed his hand over hers. “...Since we’re going to be a couple for this social season, we’d better get comfortable like this, wouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, for a second I was worried that this might come off too strong or something,” Juhyun chuckled, squeezing his arm, feeling the muscle tense under her fingers.

“If we’re going to be believable, coming off too strong on each other is probably what’s needed,” Seonghwa agreed with a knowing look. “We’re going crazy like Jackson Pollock on his canvas.”

“Are you going to make art puns this whole time?” She laughed at the comparison.

“Maybe, hey, you’re supposedly dating an art curator, and I know my art,” Seonghwa grinned. “Want to get some ice cream before we go back to shopping?”

“Just the ice cream. I think after today, I’ll just figure out what I’ll be wearing for the next few months.”

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