#dot exe OCs

[marquisegallery]

This took me. So long. To finish. I had hoped to finish it sometime in February, but now here we are. :u

Anyways! Much like the Devil Theory headcanons post I did a long while ago, this is a headcanons post for DOT EXE! All frickin' 8 of them!! Suffice to say this is going to be incredibly long, so keep that in mind before you jump into the Read More. You have been warned!! :P

(Also much like with Devil Theory, some of this might be based on stuff in the game, but a lot of it will just be "I personally think this would be neat!!")

There are going to be very many sections here, so I'm splitting them up to keep things organized and easier to follow. :u

The Overall Crew:

First and foremost, names! Plus heights, because I finally decided on heights for the individual members now :P

2 = Twoson (172 cm / 5’ 8")

4 = Fourside (173 cm / 5’ 8")

5 = Cinco (186 cm / 6’ 1")

8 = 8-ball (192 cm / 6’ 4")

9 = Neun (182 cm / 6’)

10 = Jūrō (178 cm / 5’ 10")

14 = Quatorze (196 cm / 6’ 5")

And then the cue ball member is just… Cueball, lol. He is 190 cm / 6’ 3". I was originally going to make him more-or-less the median height of the crew, but changed my mind later.

I know the 10 and 14 members found in the code aren't "official" members, especially since they seem to be just extra palettes for a potential playable 8-ball. But you know what, I made characters out of them anyways!! :P

Starting off with DOT EXE in general:

As mentioned in the game, they’re a group of full-cyber writers and breakdancers!! They also have a bit of a reputation as hackers, though truthfully it’s only some of them, specifically 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco. They’re the ones who came up with the name too, they just wanted something computer-y. It was originally just the three of them, and the others joined over time. In order, Quatorze and Jūrō were asked by 8-ball to join, then Twoson and Fourside asked to join after they went full-cyber, and then Cueball was the last to join.

Their writer aliases/street names are of course based on the billiard number shown on their screen faces. Which person gets which number was originally based on the actual number of letters in their real given name, but that doesn’t apply to Cueball, Twoson, or Fourside.

They have a reputation of being pretentious and stuck-up assholes (though at least not violent assholes like Devil Theory). They basically look down on most other crews as noobs, about the only writers they respect are DJ Cyber, Felix, and eventually BRC in general after the end of the game.

Of the current big crews in New Amsterdam, they’ve been operating the longest (with varying number of members of course), for about 2 decades at this point! However, them being an actual “big name” crew has only really happened in the past couple of years. They mostly stick to their own territory in Millennium Mall.

On that note! They literally own the mall. All of it. They collect rent from the various stores and companies operating in the mall. They keep the rent super low for local businesses so they can afford to compete with the big brands (especially huge international ones) that set up shop here. Meanwhile, said big brands are charged like five times more in rent. Of course, they’re never actually told that’s the case! Those companies even assume it must be the same for everyone else in the mall. The way DOT EXE spin it to them is along the lines of, “C’mon, don’t you want the prestige of having a store in the one and only Millennium Mall?!” Basically I imagine the Millennium Mall is a huge deal in that way, hence why the big companies don’t suspect anything’s off. :P

So yeah, DOT EXE make money that way. Even after taking out whatever has to be used for proper maintenance of the mall itself, for the most part they end up with a lot more than any of them need (especially since, being full-cyber, they don’t have to worry about food and stuff, just electricity and occasional maintenance/repairs). A lot of the money is saved for emergencies and fun stuff (like hobbies), and then they donate the rest to local charities.

The local businesses are aware of DOT EXE being the owners of the mall, and honestly don’t mind them being writers either! DOT EXE are also more reliable than the police when it comes to asking for help with a problem. In the case of shoplifters in particular, DOT EXE don’t even really punish the thieves, they’ll pay for whatever was stolen and ask if they need additional help (like if they only stole because they didn’t have a job and need help, etc).

The crew hate that the police can intervene at the mall, especially with the helicopters and walking tanks, not to mention the police tube things. They’ve tried to complain to the local government about it, but have been shot down every time. Now they will at the least sabotage the tubes and turrets whenever they can.

The mall is so big that there’s basically a huge solar panel farm on top. Whatever electricity doesn’t get used up by the mall ends up redirected to other parts of New Amsterdam that need it.

There’s also a whole community greenhouse up there! A rather illegal one actually, with New Amsterdam (currently) having some very strict regulations on larger-scale gardens and such (given there’s only one tree in the actual game, and it’s been dug up from Old Amsterdam). DOT EXE do not give a fuck about that clearly, and keep it operational. Especially since it’s a great source of food for a lot of people! DOT EXE managed to hack the local government offices to give the mall’s greenhouse an “official exception”, so the police have to (very begrudgingly) leave it be. Half the crew like the greenhouse since it’s such a great benefit for others, and the other half like it because they know it annoys the cops.

Their hideout is a small part of the mall that’s been sort of sectioned off just for them. Basically behind some pulled-down grates, a bunch of the stores behind said grates have been converted into rooms for them, and is collectively their hideout! There is an actual part of the mall in the game that looks like this, see below:

The rooms of the hideout are as follows: a main meeting/living room area (which also has a disused kitchen, since they don’t need to eat), a main rec area with a ton of custom arcade cabinets and hacked game consoles, a storage room, and then 4 personal rooms for the members, shared between a few of them. One for Cinco and Neun, another for Twoson and Fourside, another for Jūrō and Quatorze, and the last for 8-ball and Cueball. Though since 8-ball was killed, it’s been Cueball’s room by himself.

So yeah, they all live there, whereas pretty much every other crew has their hideout but then individual members (usually) live elsewhere.

They actually aren’t all the same age as the Oldheads, it’s just a cover so people don’t try and figure out any personal info about them. Specific ages/age ranges will be mentioned in individual sections, but really only 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco are around the Oldheads’ ages. Quatorze and Jūrō are actually a good chunk older than them, while Cueball, Twoson, and Fourside are all much younger.

Cueball in particular will always hide his real age, since part of it is related to how he went full-cyber. He will lie to most people and saying he's around the same age as 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco. He hates the pity he gets from people otherwise (more on this later!!).

Twoson and Foruside don't lie about their ages when asked, but would just say they were inspired by 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco to go full-cyber to keep being good dancers and writers. Meanwhile, Quatorze and Jūrō are pretty honest about why they actually did it (again, more on this later!!).

Their voice, outfits, and billiard screens are also covers for their identities!

For the voice, the idea is that there's a "default" voice all the DOT EXE folks use in public, but they still have their own voices based on how they sound from before going full-cyber (Twoson and Fourside are technically exceptions to this, but yeah, more on that later). Their actual voices are only used when they’re going around as “civilians” rather than writers, or otherwise in private at their hideout.

The tracksuits are basically just their costumes, similar to the costumes the other crews wear. So they do wear clothes besides the tracksuits. Sure, they don't really need to, but they like to! Especially when they're not out doing writer stuff, makes it easier for the cops to not suspect something. Each of them has their own personal style, which will be noted in the individual sections!

The screen face can be changed to different images. When they're out and about as "civilians", they tend to change their screens to sort of robotic faces, kinda similar to what non-screen cyberheads have. Those specific faces will be shown in the individual characters’ sections, with their "DOT EXE face" on the left and their individual faces on the right.

Combined with the difference in clothing and voices, it does a good job of actually hiding who they are from the cops!

Note that Cueball is an exception on the voice and screen thing, but I’ll get into that more in his section!

They are all gamers to some degree, otherwise why else would they have a rec room with so many games? They each have their own favorite genres, but overall play a wide variety of them. They’ll play by themselves or with each other depending on the game. The whole crew can get pretty competitive about high scores too, especially on the arcade cabinets!

They also each have their own hobbies outside of gaming, but again, another thing to mention in their own sections.

They all have the capability to communicate wirelessly like computers and phones, i.e. send messages directly to one another instead of to their phones. However, they don’t do that anymore. Mainly because the one time they tried to use it more often, Twoson, Fourside, and Cueball spammed so many memes to Neun that it caused him to crash. Hence why they still rely on text and calls like full-flesh writers, though some of them still do direct wireless messages to one another sometimes. Basically equivalent to whispering to someone so other people don’t hear them.

As full-cyber people, they all have sensors all over their bodies which can act the same as nerves. Detecting damage/pain, temperature, pressure/being touched, and even textures to a degree. The only difference is that these can be turned on or off, or even set to varying “levels” of sensing in between. Usually they turn down the pain/temperature detecting part of the sensors while they’re out (especially while doing writer stuff; basically just detecting damage/temperature without causing actual pain to them). They only turn them fully back on once they’re safe at their hideout.

🎱5️⃣9️⃣

8-ball, Cinco, and Neun in general:

They are basically the only ones that went full-cyber to be able to dance better for the most part, though they also did it to be able to get better as writers. None of them were particularly good at either of those before then, though they all clearly wanted to improve at it.

All three of them met and became friends via a transhumanism forum online, hence them going full-cyber together. The actual process is finished up around their 30s or 40s, and they're in their 60s by the time of the game.

Cinco is from Honduras and Neun is from Germany (or so he claims...). Meanwhile 8-ball was born and raised in New Amsterdam, though his father (who he shares with Cueball) had long since moved away to somewhere in the United States.

Both Neun and Cinco did writer stuff in their respective home cities, but 8-ball talked to them a lot about the writer scene in New Amsterdam, especially a lot of the big name writers at the time. That influenced all of them to want to get better at being writers, no matter what.

Once Neun and Cinco moved to New Amsterdam, 8-ball and them formed DOT EXE! They were all full-cyber by then, and practiced together to improve their skills, eventually becoming fairly big names like the other crews.

All three of them act (or acted in 8-ball’s case) as the IT people for the whole mall.

Them getting into hacking and computer stuff mostly started after they all went full-cyber, especially since all their augmentations made it a hell of a lot easier to do.

All three of them love rhythm games, but also have other genres they particularly like. They had rhythm game competitions between the three of them, and even with 8-ball gone, Neun and Cinco still do that from time to time.

On that note, yeah, in my ideas/AU/whatever you want to call it, 8-ball’s death is very much permanent. See this post with some further details on why that is, in particular how, just because his mind’s been digitized, doesn’t mean it’d be any easier to recover.

8-ball specifically:

8-ball refers to Cueball as his bro in the game, and I like to think they’re actual brothers and not just brothers-in-a-friend-way. For my headcanons, they’re actually half-brothers, but refer to each other as brothers anyways. 8-ball is the older of the two!

He’s a bit egotistical. Just a bit.

Kind of a daredevil too, compared to the others. He was like that before going full-cyber, but then after the conversion, being “effectively” invincible just made him more reckless. Dangerous stunts! Tagging more and more high up heaven spots! Getting heat up just to be able to fight the police! So on and so forth.

He is the one who designed the team’s graffiti in-universe, hence why their small tag is more related to him that the team overall. Like I said, bit of an ego on this guy!

He is the one who managed to get ownership of the whole mall, and then just splits the management and collected rent with the others. He actually managed to win ownership of the mall in a (very) risky game of poker. And he didn’t just made that up to sound cool, Cinco and Neun were actually there to witness it!

For his normal fashion style as a civilian, basically he just focuses on looking “cool”, in particular with cool jackets. This usually means jean jackets or leather biker jackets. Also tends to wear jean pants, and shirts with cool designs on them. Which is often stuff like sharks, wolves, dragons, volcanoes, lighting bolts, tornadoes, etc. Also cool shoes of course!

For his personal favorite video game genre, he likes playing shooters, but moreso arcade style shooters and SHMUPs instead of FPSs. Still kinda ironic, given what happened to him…

Real name Frederik Visser. He mainly got into transhumanism just because he thought it was cool, and eventually took it seriously and ended up on the forum where he met Neun and Cinco.

Cinco specifically:

From Cueball’s point of view, he’s the fun uncle!

Fluent in Spanish, speaks it with a Honduran accent. Sometimes uses Spanish words when talking casually, usually terms of endearment for others. Or insults/swears, because he finds it more satisfying to do so in Spanish, lol

Knows a ton of jokes, including puns, in several languages.

A charming guy, very outgoing and friendly with just about everyone!

Also a “he has your back when you need it” kind of pal to DOT EXE in general, but especially 8-ball and Neun. After 8-ball died, he got a bit more protective of Cueball too.

For his fashion style, he likes wearing patterned button-down shirts and sports shorts. For the shirts, of course that includes what’s called Hawaiian shirts, but really anything that has some sort of fancy/detailed patterned will catch his eye. Also tends to wear sandals/flipflops, or crocs.

He really likes racing games, also sports games in general!

Cinco was a bit of a jock type before going full-cyber on that note, playing a lot of sports back then too. He tried to get into various professional sports but never got very far. He’s good at whatever he plays, but evidently just not one of the best for it. Also doesn’t help that he never tried focusing on one particular sport at a time, to the point where he stretched himself thin after a while.

Occasionally plays basketball with the Franks, he’s actually good pals with them because of it!

Likes sports and muscle cars, though mostly driving them and not the maintenance part. He may or may not participate in drag races using stolen cars. Not that it’s hard to steal a car in New Amsterdam, there’s a lot of rich people with “smart” cars who don’t change the default passwords…

Real name César Hugo Raúl Garcia-Flores. On both sides of his family there’s histories of genetic illnesses, and after a certain point he was starting to show some early signs of them. This of course started affecting his health, and with his focus on sports and also wanting to get better as a writer/dancer, he ended up on the transhumanism forum to hopefully find a way to handle all that.

He genuinely didn’t intended to go full-cyber, just wanted to look into “less intensive” cybernetics. However, becoming friends with 8-ball and Neun and going over what they were planning themselves basically led Cinco to decide, “You know what? Might as well go all the way with this myself!”

A note on his full name, if people ask about it: he’ll say his parents couldn’t decide between the two middle names, and just gave him both. Meanwhile, neither parent was backing down about giving him one family name or the other, so they decided to just hyphenate it. But then they had an argument over the order (Garcia-Flores or Flores-Garcia), so they flipped a coin on it… that all being said, Cinco always says this like it’s another joke, so no one’s entirely sure if it’s the real story or not.

He had a boyfriend before going full-cyber. They broke up because of him hiding the fact he was planning to go full-cyber at all. Then again, them breaking up over that was inevitable anyways, because said boyfriend was the type of person to see cybernetics (especially full-cyber stuff) as something unnatural and disgusting. By the time of the game, Cinco has long since gotten over it (for the most part).

May or may not end up dating Escher, hee hee

Neun specifically:

From Cueball’s point of view, he’s basically the stern uncle lol

Has a bit of a “neutral” accent when speaking in his actual voice. It’s clear he’s hiding whatever his “real” accent is supposed to be, but no one knows what he naturally sounds like, not even 8-ball and Cinco. His voice gets shockingly deep when he’s angry, which is very rare.

Fluent in German and Spanish, having grown up speaking both languages. Claims to be from Germany. Though, he’s only ever spoken Spanish with Cinco in private “for some reason”...

… The reason being that he’s actually Argentinian (of German descent, hence him learning that language) and very much has the accent when speaking Spanish. Cinco clocked him as such when listening to him speak Spanish one time. Neun doesn’t want people to know that about him, so he’s sworn Cinco to never speak of it to anyone, even 8-ball. More on why later...

When in public, he basically puts up a front and acts the same kind of “dudebro” kind of way the rest of the members act. Outside of that, overall he’s a very serious and kinda cold guy, but he does genuinely care about his friends (and eventually the rest of the crew, though it took him a while to get there).

Between him, 8-ball, and Cinco, Neun is basically the “friend in charge of the one collective brain cell” kind of guy. It’s also why he’s second-in-command of DOT EXE, becoming the leader once 8-ball is killed.

Also the crew’s accountant, mostly in charge of sorting out collecting rent from the businesses in the mall. He gives a lot of leeway for local businesses if they’re late on rent, but gives no such mercy to the bigger brands in the mall.

Likes to stay organized. He will pick up after the others if they leave a mess, but will also complain and berate them while doing so.

Not exactly a fan of jokes or pranks. He dislikes puns in particular and finds them genuinely annoying (not in a “Damn it, I wish I thought of that myself!!” kind of way). He makes an exception for Cinco’s jokes, but mostly out of politeness as a friend. And even then it’s not like Neun will laugh, he’ll just politely stay quiet and shake his head.

For his normal fashion outside of the tracksuits, well, Neun can be described as looking like a stereotypical nerd. This means collar shirts and khaki pants, lol

Neun likes playing RPGs and strategy games, though he’s very old school and picky about what he plays. If it doesn’t have some sort of hard mode, at the very least a hard mode that can be modded in, he won’t bother with it. Just as an example, he likes playing Pokemon games but only with modded super hard modes and with Smogon-style strategies and team builds.

Claims his real name is Sebastian Jäger. He was originally just on the transhumanism forum out of curiosity, not really taking it seriously. However, at one point he had a mid-life crisis related to mortality, especially after having to deal with a string of family deaths around the same time. With him wanting to be a better writer and breakdancer, at that point he felt like he had limited time to even live at all, let alone enough time to improve at either of those.

Hence why he started being more active on the forum and looking into full-cyber conversion in particular, and that eventually led to him becoming friends with 8-ball and Cinco. He’ll never admit to this though.

He’ll also never admit that he accidentally crossed the wrong people on his journey to both go full-cyber and move to New Amsterdam. He’s convinced they’re still looking for him, even if the chances are incredibly slim. Thus why he’s hiding at least part of his origins...

His actual real name is Sebastián Montero, but again, he’s basically in hiding right now. "Jäger" was apparently the family name of an ancestor of his.

(1️⃣4️⃣) 🔟

Quatorze and Jūrō in general:

Quatorze is French, and Jūrō is of Japanese descent, both born and raised in France. Both can of course speak French, with their real speaking voices having a Parisian French accent. Jūrō is also fluent in Japanese.

They were both big time writers in their youth, with stories about them being what inspired 8-ball to become a writer in the first place! Then him talking about them to Cinco and Neun is what collectively pushed all three of them to want to get better at being writers.

They are a married couple and still consider themselves married as wife and husband, even after going full-cyber together (technically they are considered legally dead and thus no longer married, but screw the laws man).

On that note, surprise, Quatorze is actually a woman! Thanks to the default voice for the crew and the tracksuits, everyone just assumes she’s a man without hearing her real voice. That’s intentional, I’ll get into it a bit more in her specific section.

They are very, very loving to each other. Think Gomez and Morticia Addams, just without a morbid humor angle. Jūrō basically praises and is encouraging of everything Quatorze does, and Quatorze love to compliment him for anything he does too. Though sometimes it does get on her nerves, and he apologizes when she asks him to dial it back a bit. But also they have the mushiest pet names for each other.

They are both willing to kill and be killed for the sake of their spouse, but of course each of them would prefer that the other not going that far.

They see 8-ball, Cinco, and Neun as their peers. Meanwhile, both of them dote on Cueball, Twoson, and Fourside like their actual kids/grandkids. Cueball finds it annoying but secretly likes it, meanwhile Twoson and Fourside outright call them Granny and Granpy respectively.

Real names Marie-Madeleine Lucille Perrault, and Maximilien Théodore Perrault, respectively. Their backstory of how they went full-cyber is connected, so I’ll just go over it here: Tragically, in their 70s, Quatorze got cancer at some point, a kind that was unfortunately very hard to treat. She had the option to go full-cyber instead of continuing risky treatment just to potentially die due to being weakened by said treatment. And her husband Jūrō also went full-cyber to be able to stay with her!

Unfortunately, their kids were not happy with that. For some of them, there was confusion about how inheritance would work (eventually finding out that Quatorze and Jūrō would be considered legally dead anyways, so it was “fine”). For others, it’s moreso that they had already accepted that their mom will die, only for her to choose to keep living in the most “selfish” and “unnatural” way possible.

Suffice to say, Quatorze and Jūrō have not spoken to their kids since then, and they haven’t seen their grandkids since then either. They’re more torn up about not seeing their grandkids (they weren’t exactly happy with their kids fighting over inheritance and criticizing their parents’ decision on how to keep living). For the most part they’ve come to accept they’ll never see them again, but Jūrō is secretly holding onto hope they might see their grandkids again someday…

After the two of them went full-cyber, sometime later 8-ball reached out to them, having heard about what happened to them. He was basically like, "Hey you guys were big inspirations to us as writers! Wanna join our new full-cyber crew??" (at that point it was just him, Cinco, and Neun). They responded, "Well, we're not sure how to spend our retirement now, so sure! :)" So by the time of the game’s events, they’re in their 80s.

Quatorze specifically:

She’s basically the team mom! Very caring towards everyone in the crew, but also more than willing to put her foot down to get them to behave when needed.

Before going full-cyber, she was an actress. Her pretending to be a man when out and about as a writer is mainly to hide her identity. She was fairly famous at her peak, so even with her being “legally” dead, she doesn’t want people to find and bother her, especially not any overzealous fans. She does look back on her past work with fondness though, some of her favorite roles was getting to play as hammy, over-the-top villains in cartoons, animated movies, and live action movies.

Though as an actress, her pretending to be a man while in public as DOT EXE (including using the default voice the same as the others) is also just another role for her. She finds it a lot of fun!

She knits, as well as crocheting, weaving, and other crafts involving threads and such. She will knit you a sweater/scarf/hat if you ask politely!

For her civilian fashion, she likes wearing sweaters and long skirts. Sometimes she wears sundresses with a nice sunhat during the summer months, even if it’s not really necessary as a full-cyber person. She has fancier dresses she wears for date nights with Jūrō.

Her favorite kinds of video games are puzzle games and ‘slow’ platformers, mainly things along the lines of Klonoa, Kirby, Mario, and Banjo-Kazooie.

Jūrō specifically:

He’s basically the team dad! Very supportive of his crew mates. He leaves being the “stern parent” to Quatorze though, especially since Jūrō tends to be too soft on someone if they messed up or started issues with the rest of the crew. It was the same when they were full-flesh with their kids and grandkids, he’s mainly just afraid of seeming too “mean”.

Unfortunately he can’t do dad jokes, but at least Cinco has that covered, lol

He worked as an accountant, but didn’t like the work very much. He was able to be a stay-at-home dad once Quartorze’s acting career really took off!

He likes to garden, and he’s the one that works the most on the mall’s greenhouse.

For his civilian fashion, usually wears nice pants (like the kind for suits) + long button-down shirts. Also wears sweater vests that his wife makes for him! He has full suits and waistcoats for date nights with Quatorze.

His favorite kinds of video games are life sim games, such as Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley (“If only growing plants were this easy in real life!”). He also likes idle games, especially ones that don’t demand his attention too much.

2️⃣4️⃣

Twoson and Fourside in general:

Yes, their names are references to the Earthbound towns of the same name. They picked out their own billiard numbers to specifically make that reference, lol

Twoson is agender (they/he) and Fourside is nonbinary (also they/he). Note that they were like this long before going full-cyber, since some people may assume it happened because of the transition.

For their voices, they actually only use their real voices when they’re alone together in private, and no one else knows what they “really” sound like. When out as civilians or in private with their crewmates, they use different synthesized voices from the one used for DOT EXE. Their specific synthesized voices will be noted in their individual sections.

For their civilian screen faces, these two will actually change them to express certain emotions, usually with very anime-esque stuff (eye shines, exaggerated evil grins, etc). Other members will just keep their faces static and express themselves through their voice and hand/body movement.

They are both pranksters, they love to cause mischief and mayhem! Not even their own crewmates are safe.

They get along with Cueball in a sort of sibling way. Sometimes getting along great, other times being at each others’ throats (i.e. Cueball vs. Twoson and Fourside, the two of them are deep friends and have never really fought each other).

Jūrō has taught both of them Japanese. He insisted on it after hearing them talk (or rather, trying to talk) in Japanese once, they were really horrible at it before his lessons. They both also know a bit of Spanish from Cinco.

Between the two of them, they have a huge anime and manga collection! I will mention some of their individual favorite genres for that in their respective sections.

They make video games! Just as a hobby, so all the games they make are free. Said games are mostly in the form of super hard ROM Hacks, or weird/eccentric/trippy games (think along the lines of Yume Nikki, OFF, Hylics, Space Funeral, Goblet Grotto, LSD Dream Emulator, etc.). Neither of them can code very well, so they usually convince/force Cueball into helping them with their various projects. What they provide for said projects themselves is mostly the ideas (both of them), music (Twoson specifically), and art assets (Fourside specifically).

Suffice to say, the games they make are not ones that any of the other DOT EXE members normally play. Neun has played some of the ROM hacks they’ve made for RPGs though, mostly because of the ridiculous challenges they put in.

They both have similar tastes in music, usually stuff that is fairly “eccentric” compared to mainstream music. Basically along the lines of Caravan Palace, Will Wood, Lemon Demon, Jack Stauber, GHOST and Pals, Vane, and R.I.P.. Also enjoy a lot of Vocaloid and Synthysizer V songs, especially the more creepy and macabre stuff.

On that note, they’ve definitely hijacked the mall’s sound systems to play their favorite songs as pranks on people more than once.

They both really like horror games. With poorly made ones, they only play them to riff on them and make fun of their game design. They may or may not have a YouTube channel dedicated to this. They may or may not also do streams as vTubers on that note…

Honestly they like horror content in general. Movies, novels, games, anime, manga, comics, TV shows, art… they’d probably get along great with Daishō!

Real names are Beau Driessen and Robin Zaal respectively. Like with Quatorze and Jūrō, Twoson and Fourside’s backstories are connected. Twoson was severely injured in what was ruled an “accident”, to the point of only having two options: go full-cyber, or just stay bedridden for the rest of their life. Meanwhile, Fourside went full-cyber in order to bury their old identity, after having taken care of the people who caused the “accident”. Both of them going full-cyber happened in their late 20s, they're both about 35 now.

They were both writers before going full-cyber, and the “accident” was caused by some rivals they had to deal with. After the conversion, they heard about DOT EXE as a full-cyber crew, and decided to join up with them.

They are very protective of one another. Fourside in particular will get very vicious against anyone who tries to hurt Twoson, even if it’s another DOT EXE member.

They’re also the type to use insults to show affection to each other, “You nerd!”, “You’re such a dork!”, etc. Towards anyone else, it’s genuine insults.

Twoson specifically:

The voice they use when going around as a civilian is an androgynous synthesized voice that’s a bit on the higher side.

Twoson is the nicer of the two, for what it’s worth, but still tends to be obnoxious at times. They also like to be fakely sweet sometimes, especially when trying to get a favor out of someone else.

For fashion, Twoson likes wearing a jean vest covered in a ton of buttons. They also like to wear skirts over cargo capris, tie-dye shirts, chokers/collars, and headbands which have been modified to fit over their head.

They like to do craft stuff sometimes, like origami, needle felting, papercraft, and clay sculptures. They also make the buttons and tie-dye shirts that both themself and Fourside wear.

They make music! The best way to describe it is very weird and also sometimes creepy. Basically ranging from quirky digital/midi music, to dreamy but still unnerving drones and tones, to Silent Hill 1 industrial scary noises.

Besides horror video games, they really like dating sims and visual novels. They have a whole menagerie of what they call their fictional spouses.

Twoson likes the magical girl genre in particular for anime and manga. They actually really hate shows like Puella Magi Madoka Magica that try to subvert the genre or otherwise do an intentionally “edgy” take on it. A lot of magical girl series already have dark themes anyways!

Fourside specifically:

The voice they use when going around as a civilian is an androgynous synthesized voice that’s a bit on the lower side.

Fourside is the meaner of the two, for what it’s worth. They’re more quick to genuinely insult people and use a lot of sarcasm. However, they will be respectful when it counts, usually only for other DOT EXE members.

For fashion, Fourside also likes wearing a jean vest with tons of buttons and tie-dye shirts, like Twoson does. They also wear a skirt over skinny jeans, lots of bracelets, and beanies that Quatorze has made for them.

On that note, Quatorze made some of the thread/string bracelets that Fourside wears, and she showed them how to make bracelets on their own too. So the rest are the ones Fourside made! You can tell which ones were from when they first started out, and which ones are more recent and thus better quality. They’ve also made some of the collars/chokers that Twoson wears.

Fourside does digital art in the form of 3D models and complex MS Paint stuff. They mainly do this just to make weird stuff and put it out their for people to enjoy. A lot of it is very abstract and weird, with a sort of “old-school Internet” vibe a la ENA/Eastern Mind: The Lost Souls of Tong-Nou/Disillusion ST/Hylics/etc.

Besides horror video games, they really love beat ‘em ups and fighting games! Do not challenge them to some of the big ones (Street Fighter, Tekken, Smash Bros, etc.) unless you want to lose.

Fourside has no particular favorite genre for anime/manga, but tends to like series that end up categorized as shōnen. Also really enjoys superhero tokusatsu shows and movies (i.e. stuff like Super Sentai/Power Rangers, Kamen Rider, Ultraman, etc).

Cueball

He’s the lovable goofball basically. Lots of joking around and teasing people, especially his friends! That’s basically how he shows affection a lot of the time.

Though he’s also fiercely loyal to his friends and crew. Mostly because despite being friendly and outgoing, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends outside of DOT EXE. Eventually that changes once he joins BRC, but he still cares about and hangs out with his old crewmates.

He’s from the United States, and 8-ball helped him with moving to New Amsterdam.

He loves cats! Before he went full-cyber, he was very allergic to cats and wasn’t allowed to have any because of that. After going full-cyber, he eventually realized he didn’t have to worry about allergies anymore. And so he set out to adopt ALL the cats, lol. It got bad enough to be a hoarding situation, and the rest of DOT EXE at the time (8-ball, Cinco, and Neun, this being before any of the other and Cueball himself joining) had to step in for an intervention. They got the cats rehomed or put in adoption centers/cat shelters, and Cueball decided to just volunteer at those shelters to help out. A much better situation for everyone involved, especially the cats!

Cueball owns a ton of blankets and pillows, and likes to make his own pillow forts and stuff in his room for Extra Comfort. Also sometimes throws them in a clothes dryer to make them warm. With the thing about body sensors for full-cyber people I mentioned earlier, Cueball is of course the one that takes full advantage of the sensors whenever he can!

Quatorze has made whole blankets for Cueball. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he does appreciate those blankets, they’re very comfy.

His favorite kinds of video games are action, action-adventure, and search action (a.k.a “Metroidvania”).

Cueball hates his real voice for the most part, and he’s the only one who will keep using the default DOT EXE voice even when alone with the rest of the crew. They do know what he sounded like before he used that default voice (he only started using it all the time after he joined DOT EXE), but it’s been so long that most of them have forgotten it by now.

When it comes to fashion, Cueball’s “style” is more about comfort than anything else. Hoodies! Sweatpants! Sweaters! Oversized t-shirts! Comfy socks! Super comfy sneakers! Sometimes various winter hats if he can find any that will fit over his head lol. He has a ton of stuff that Quartoze has made for him, though he feels embarrassed to actually wear them outside of the hideout.

As mentioned previously, he doesn’t bother changing his screen face to a different one from his billiards face. Though he will change the red triangle in the middle to different emojis or reaction images/gifs for expressions. Or otherwise to mess with people.

So Cueball is the only one who doesn't bother with the voice changing nor face changing. The only thing different is his clothes. If a cop suspects he's the same Cueball from DOT EXE, he basically goes, "Oh? You think I look like a criminal just because I'm full-cyber too? Prejudice much?!" and that actually gets them to back down most of the time lol

He used to do programming and other computer related tasks (including messing with servers and hardware) as a job after going full-cyber and before eventually joining DOT EXE. He’s still good at those things too! But at least now he keeps up with those more as a hobby, which he honestly prefers. He thus tends to refuse to help with the IT stuff for the mall, he’s sick of doing that kind of thing for work.

He wanted in on the crew mostly because he was sick of feeling “left behind” by everyone else whenever they’d go out to do writer stuff. By the time he joined, Quatorze, Jūrō, Twoson, and Fourside had already become part of the crew.

He’s the only DOT EXE member with no prior experience as a writer (especially before going full-cyber), and so he’s had to put in a lot of practice with the rest of the crew. Due to his lack of skills, he was only really allowed to join because his older brother 8-ball let him join, and even then only after Cueball begged him about it a lot.

On that note, and as mentioned in 8-ball’s section, Cueball and 8-ball are specifically half-brothers. They cared about each other, and 8-ball very much tried to help out his little brother whenever he could. Back when the two of them were still full-flesh, they weren’t too close, but at least kept in touch via email and sometimes actual postcards despite the age difference between them. Mostly 8-ball wanted to be sure Cueball had another adult he could turn to if he was in trouble, because he knows how their dad is.

After moving to New Amsterdam, they did get a little closer as brothers. Cueball has a lot of admiration for his older brother because of his writer activities, though sometimes Cueball would be annoyed or even hate 8-ball for (in his eyes) “babying” him when 8-ball was just trying to keep him safe. Eventually, sometime after 8-ball died, Cueball mostly just regrets not really knowing 8-ball that well in the end.

Cueball starts trying to get into rhythm games after 8-ball’s death, and he even tries to join in on the rhythm game competitions with Cinco and Neun. He’s getting pretty good at it!

He does a lot of pranks with Twoson and Fourside. Also prank wars between the three of them! Neun makes a point to have plans outside of New Amsterdam for the weeks surrounding April Fools Day, while the rest of the crew just roll with it.

Besides Twoson and Fourside, Cueball gets along fairly well with Cinco, Jūrō, and Quatorze. For the last one, he has accidentally called her mom once, and he had her swear to never tell anyone else what happened.

He’s dating Bō! Cueball is really big on physical touch as a show of affection. He is thus incredibly cuddly and big on handholding and hugs! He also cuts back on the jokes and teasing just for Bō (for the most part).

He used to do a lot of cooking and baking before he went full-cyber. Once he started dating Bō, he actually go back into cooking to be able to cook stuff for his boyfriend! He still remembers all of the recipes he tried out, plus reads up on new ones to try. Unfortunately, due to of course having no sense of taste now, he has to either use recipes that don’t need tasting in between steps, stick with recipes that he already knows Bō likes, or otherwise make sure Bō is around for taste-testing.

Bō is the only one who knows what Cueball’s real voice sounds like, and even then Cueball only uses it when they’re alone together in private.

Real name Ernesto Alberto Visser. Cueball got Covid when he was about 15. The resulting long Covid was bad enough that, in his early 20s, he decided to just go full-cyber instead of continuing to suffer. His older brother 8-ball helped him out with that. At first it was just helping him move to New Amsterdam to get better medical treatment (and to get away from their dad and Cueball’s mom for that matter) once Cueball turned 18. Eventually that lead to helping Cueball with going full-cyber once the treatments proved ineffective. He did so sometime after 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco went full-cyber themselves. Cueball is about 43 during the time of the game.

Cueball originally had plans to become a chef or at least a baker, but when he got sick, part of the problems from his Covid infection was that his sense of taste got completely messed up. He was originally going to do programming as a hobby thing. But once he went full-cyber, he did programming as a full time job since he didn’t have anything else going for him, until eventually joining DOT EXE many years later.

Because of why he went full-cyber, he is distrustful of doctors (due to both the quack doctors his parents forced him to see to pretend that his Covid symptoms “weren’t that bad”, and the actual doctors later on who knew how serious his condition was but couldn’t do much for him anyways). He insists on accompanying his full-flesh friends to their doctor appointments to make sure they’re safe!!

[crashncash]

Art dump because

1. I haven't shared art here in forever

2. I just applied for a fan zine . smile emoji

[w0rmyz]

another one of fish and 9-ball

[reanimatestar]

ernest's bestie* orla <3

*debatable

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

Dot's character sheet is now available on toyhouse!

You can also watch the speedpaint for their profile assets here! [[LINK]]

Also quick note that i may be a bit slow on art posts for a bit because i have a bit of burnout/art block (not sure which) and i'm going to be taking a break

[waitingonavision]

35, 48

OC ask.

Whee~ thank you for the ask! I'll be working my way through the questions I've received kind of methodically—gives me the chance to really think about the answers. CW: for mentions of death (of parents)

. . .

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

I wouldn't say that Moisés is prone to daydreaming... but I think he tends to let his thoughts drift quite a bit on Shabbat and Yamim Tovim (holidays) , when it's quiet and he's not doing any work.

He's fairly imaginative, though not on the level of, say, Bruno or Mirabel. He's the town's calligrapher (he works in both Spanish and Hebrew), so his creative streak definitely comes out when he's designing things... I think he has a "structured" or deliberate? kind of creative mind, if that makes sense... like, less free-wheeling. He doesn't let his worry or anxiety show too much. But he has Jewish Guilt and inherited trauma... plus, he was around four years old when the Encanto was created, so he has that traumatic memory of fleeing the town with his parents and the other refugees. It manifests sometimes in the form of PTSD.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

Mo's mamá's name is Ester and his pá is Jonás. They lived in the same town as Alma and Pedro. I imagine there were a few other Jews in that town, but by the time the horsemen come, and definitely while they're living in the Encanto (until the Madrigals discover their own Jewish ancestry), the Bondias are the only Jews left.

In contrast to Alma and Pedro, Ester and Jonás became parents at an older age. Maybe it took them some time to conceive Moisés, who's their only child. Ester's grandfather was a rabbi, and I think it's possible that Jonás, who was also a scribe, had both Sephardi (Spanish Jewish) and Ashkenazi (Eastern European Jewish) family members. I haven't thought to much about their backstories yet, so don't hold me to any of this lol ;;; For simplicity's sake, I'll probably also model their personalities on Esther and Jonah from the Tanakh/associated midrash. Mo gets his studiousness and some of his positive traits from Ester, and a bit of his goofiness and vices from Jonás.

Mo was always pretty close with his parents and is really affected when they pass away while he's still in his 20s. And he feels distraught because he's not able to recite Kaddish for them (the mourner's prayer requires a quorum of ten Jews)... which leads him to scour rabbinic literature for solutions or a work-around. Their deaths also cause him to feel even more isolated as the sole Jew in the Encanto (until the Madrigals' discovery, of course).

Baby Mo doodle!

OC Asks!

[kajoodles]

blues clues but with computers. trust me on this

[gengename]

"chat is this real"

woodguy design irrelevant

[pyrabluearts]

"WARNING: SAVE DATA CORRUPTED"

Redesign of my .EXE, Ruby.BIN

[sayorkunau]

My favorite shit is Harvey worriedly confirming that you are indeed pregnant. It’s so funny to me because you’re literally expecting a child yet you’re still in the skull caverns slaying dinosaurs. There’s no pregnancy mechanic at all in this game. I forgot how meta Stardew can be.

Anyway Harvey is a nervous wreck and I’m so glad I had my OC marry him..

I think the best thing about having a Star Trek OC is that I can insert her into anything and it still works with her main story line. If anything it makes it all the more horrifying and depressing. She goes MIA for 6 years and this is just one of the things that happens.

[marquisegallery]

I made these in a different style than my normal stuff since I wanted this to be like. The "generic" version of Devil Theory Dude and DOT EXE Guy, rather than any of my specific Devil Theory OCs and my personal version of Cueball. If that makes sense?? I hope that makes sense.

(Not to say I don't ship my version of Cueball with one of my Devil Theory OCs, because I do, but that's fan content for another time :P )

Anyways I think Devil Theory Dude and DOT EXE Guy should hug and smooch, thank you for coming to my TED talk \o/

[emjayewrites]

All For Us (Lewis Hamilton SMAU)

SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton secretly dates an older woman with a daughter and the public slowly starts connecting the dots. [smau w/narrative]

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x influencer!OC Bree King (faceclaim is Sasha Exeter)

WARNINGS: verbal/emotional abuse from an ex, drama, age gap romance (Bree is 2 years older than Lewis), formula one b.s., pre-established relationship, step-daddy Lewis. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!

TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03

A/N: Read the warnings!! This oneshot may be triggering!! Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Lewis grinned as Bree's face appeared on his FaceTime screen. "There she is! My favorite lady."

"I should hope that's still the case," Bree teased with a wink before turning her head. "Sloane, baby, come say hi to Lewis!"

A moment later, Bree's eight-year-old daughter popped into view, her face lighting up with excitement. "Lewis! Hi!!"

"Hey there, Sloane!" Lewis' smile widened. "Having fun at camp?"

The little girl nodded vigorously. "It's so cool! We went canoeing yesterday and I caught the biggest frog ever!"

"No way, that's amazing!" Lewis played along. "You'll have to show me next time I see you. Which is actually why I FaceTimed..." He glanced at Bree, who gave him an encouraging nod before he proceeded. "I was wondering if you and your mom are still planning to come to my race in Montreal next week?" he asked Sloane. "It'll be my last chance to see you before you go back to school."

"YES!!" Sloane pumped her fist in the air emphatically. "We're definitely coming! I can't wait!"

Bree chuckled fondly and ruffled her daughter's hair. As her eyes met Lewis again over the video call, her expression was full of meaning.

Though keeping their relationship under wraps wasn't easy, moments like this made it worth it to Lewis. Having this slice of domestic bliss, however ephemeral, grounded him in a way he never could have imagined before meeting Bree and her daughter. It was a small price to pay for the unexpected joy of finally finding someone who knew the real him - flaws and all.

Their relationship was still so new, barely six months old, but he felt more at peace with Bree than he could have imagined. Bree understood the punishing demands his career brought in a way no one else could. With her own entrepreneurial spirit and drive, she never asked him to compromise his ambition. If anything, she helped stoke it.

Yes, the secrecy could be tedious at times. But Lewis didn't mind. After a lifetime in the spotlight, he relished having this one thing that was just for him and Bree. At least for now.

Race day arrived and Bree made her way through the hustle and bustle of the Montreal Grand Prix paddock. Despite Sloane's excitement in the lead-up, her father had pulled one of his typical selfish moves at the last minute by insisting on taking her to the zoo that day instead.

Bree felt that familiar pang of disappointment mixed with resignation. Her ex had been more of a sperm donor than an actual parent to their daughter from the day Sloane was born. He only seemed to appear when it was convenient for him, not Sloane.

Pushing those negative thoughts aside, Bree focused on the thrill of being here to support Lewis. As an influencer, she had initially been given paddock access through her partnership with Peroni, but over the last few months, as her relationship with Lewis intensified, racing had become personal.

"You must be Bree!" She spun around at the greeting to see a tall, stocky man striding towards her, hand outstretched. Spinz stood around six-foot-three and was built like a linebacker, with a lightly tanned skin tone. His smile was kind and friendly as he enthusiastically shook her hand. "I'm Daniel, but you can call me Spinz."

"It's so great to finally meet you! Lewis has told me loads about you," Bree mentioned happily.

"Likewise," Spinz replied genuinely. "I've heard so many stories, it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Lewis and she had been intentionally slow about intermingling friends and family. They didn't want to rush things before they were both exclusive and comfortable, yet now that Sloane had grown so fond of Lewis, it felt right to begin that integration.

"Can't believe my man is finally bringing his girlfriend around the paddock!" Spinz continued, laughing delightedly. "Bout time, if you ask me." This emitted a chuckle from Bree. "Well, since you're finally here, allow me to give you the grand tour," Spinz offered, gesturing for her to follow him. "Lewis is still doing his pre-race routine, but I can show you around until he's free."

Bree nodded eagerly, falling into step beside the towering Spinz as he led them through the controlled chaos of the paddock. He pointed out the various team garages, the hospitality suites, and regaled her with funny behind-the-scenes stories from past races.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, Bree instantly felt at ease with Spinz's warm presence and easy banter. She could understand why he and Lewis had been mates for so long. There was an affable authenticity to him that put her instantly at ease.

"And this...is the sacred ground," Spinz proclaimed dramatically as they walked inside the Mercedes garage. "Though I suppose for you, it's more like hallowed ground at this point, eh?" He elbowed her teasingly.

Bree laughed, shoving him back playfully. "That's one way to put it, I suppose. I have to admit, seeing this side of his life up close is still taking some getting used to."

Before Spinz could respond, a familiar voice spoke out. "Hi, baby."

Bree shifted her gaze to see Lewis walking over to them, clad in his racing suit. His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses as he pulled her into an embrace. She melted into his arms, inhaling his familiar warm scent.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, gorgeous. Pre-race craziness, you know how it is," Lewis murmured, lowering his voice. "But I'm all yours now."

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Even with the smile on his face, Bree could sense that something seemed a bit off with him.

"How are you?" Bree asked gently.

Lewis let out an exasperated sigh. "Comme ci, comme ça." He made a wavering 'so-so' gesture with his hand to emphasize his point.

Bree's expression was knowing. "Ah, I see." With a slow blink, she decided not to pry further for now.

"Let's not worry about that now, okay?" Lewis gave her a lopsided grin, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Everything good with you? How was the tour with Spinz?"

"Great, Spinz was awesome. Thank you again for the tour," Bree replied, smiling at Lewis' friend.

Spinz waved it off. "No problem at all. I'll leave you two to it. Lew, I'll catch up with you later?"

"Of course, man." Lewis pulled Spinz in for one of their signature dap-up handshake hugs before his friend departed.

"Now that that's out of the way..." Lewis trailed off, snaking his arms around Bree's waist and pulling her close. "I can finally kiss you like I've been wanting to."

"Oh, so it's like that, Sir Hamilton?" Bree teased, removing his sunglasses to gaze into his warm brown eyes. "There, that's better. I can actually see those pretty eyes of yours now."

Lewis batted his lashes exaggeratedly. "You like what you see, huh? I could get used to all this flattery."

With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in a lingering, tender kiss, the troubles of the earlier melting away as he lost himself in her being.

Bree paced near the gate, phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her ex-husband's latest tirade.

"You're really going to let some race car driver try to one-up me as a father figure for Sloane? Come on, Bree. This guy is just a fling - he'll get bored of playing house eventually and leave you high and dry."

She bristled at his condescending tone, upset rising in her chest. Before she could snap back, her gaze landed on Sloane sitting nearby. The little girl was utterly engrossed, flipping through a "Formula One for Kids" book in preparation for their time at Silverstone.

The sight of her daughter's pure, unbridled excitement instantly calmed Bree's anger. She took a steadying breath before responding.

"You know what, you're right - you shouldn't be threatened because unlike you, Lewis actually shows up for Sloane," she stated evenly. "He's been more of a parent to her in six months than you have her whole life."

There was an indignant sputtering on the other end, but Bree kept talking before he could interject.

"Don't project your guilt about being an absentee dad onto my relationship. This isn't about you. It's about giving our daughter some stability and male role model who wants to be present."

The overhead speaker crackled to life, an announcement requesting they begin boarding their flight to Paris. Bree knew she needed to hang up now if they wanted to make it.

"I'm done wasting my time on this. We're boarding now. Maybe next time you can join us instead of just criticizing from the sidelines." She ended the call with a tap before he could respond.

Turning to Sloane, Bree plastered on a brilliant smile, letting the contentment of this new chapter wash over her.

"You ready for our adventure, baby girl?"

Sloane beamed up at her mother, curls bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically. "So ready! This is gonna be the best vacation ever!"

As they joined the line to board, hand-in-hand, Bree felt a swell of gratitude. Her daughter deserved all the happiness in the world - and she'd do whatever it took to provide it, with or without Sloane's father.

-------------------------------------------------

"No, no, you've got the lyrics all wrong!" Sloane collapsed in a fit of giggles as Lewis dramatically belted out his very off-key rendition of "We Don't Talk About Bruno" from Encanto, which was playing on the TV.

"What are you talking about? This is exactly how it goes!" Lewis protested, bopping around their hotel suite and encouraging Sloane to sing and dance along with him.

Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.

As the next song from the movie came on, Lewis grabbed Sloane's hands and started twirling her around in an impromptu dance number. Sloane squealed with laughter, trying her best to follow his goofy choreography.

Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.

Despite having to attend a couple of fashion shows, Lewis insisted on making the most of their time together. He had kicked things off with a surprise shopping trip that morning to Dior, allowing Bree and Sloane to play dress-up before walking away with an entirely new boutique-worthy wardrobe.

From there, it was on to take in the splendor of Parisian culture and sights. They strolled along the Champs-Élysées, stopping to snack on crispy crepes and macarons. Lewis delighted in teaching Sloane a few French phrases, though she quickly realized he was cheekily mispronouncing things.

As evening fell, Lewis whisked them away to a breathtaking circus show at Cirque Phénix. Sloane's eyes were saucers the entire time as she watched the daring acrobats and exotic animals perform. When it was over, she kept asking "How did they DO that?!" in awed tones.

Finally, they capped the night off with a decadent multi-course dinner at an acclaimed family-owned bistro. Even Sloane was lured into trying cuisine well beyond her usual mac-and-cheese comfort zone.

Now, lounging in their luxury hotel after baths, it was the perfect way to wind down after a memory-making day. Lewis intentionally kept the mood light and fun, perhaps sensing Bree needed a break from any lingering emotional fallout after her ex's cruel words.

Lewis and Sloane collapsed in a giggling heap on the suite's plush rug, exhausted but elated. Pressing kisses to Sloane's flushed cheeks, Lewis grinned contentedly.

"Best day ever, right team?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

As the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend approached, Lewis became adamant that Bree and Sloane finally meet his family. They would all be in attendance on Sunday to cheer him on at his beloved home race.

"It's time," he stated firmly one night as they relaxed together in bed. "You two are the most important people in my life now. I want my family to really know you both."

Bree felt a flutter of nerves, knowing this was a big step. In all his years as a global celebrity, Lewis had only ever brought one other woman home to meet his parents and siblings - his ex-girlfriend from years ago. There hadn't been anyone serious enough since then to warrant those introductions, until Bree came along.

Saturday night arrived, and Bree smoothed her hands down the summer dress she had carefully selected. She caught a glimpse of her anxious expression in the mirror and exhaled slowly.

Get it together, she scolded herself.

So what if she was a few years older than Lewis, and a single mom at that? His family seemed warm and supportive based on what little she knew. Surely they wouldn't judge her too harshly, right?

The sudden image of them dismissing her as some gold-digging cougar flashed through Bree's mind before she could stop it. She shook her head firmly. Those were her own insecurities talking, not reality.

"You ready, gorgeous?" Lewis' voice pulled her from her reverie. He stood in the doorway, Sloane's little hand clasped securely in his own.

Bree managed a tremulous smile and nodded. "As I'll ever be. Let's do this."

They made their way to the private dining room at Dishoon's, where Lewis' family awaited. The moment they entered, multiple pairs of eyes widened almost comically at the picture before them - Lewis holding Sloane's hand while his other arm wrapped protectively around Bree's waist.

Bree felt her cheeks warm as the hushed murmurs started. Lewis simply grinned, surveying the room with an almost smug satisfaction.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet the two leading ladies in my life..." he began by way of introduction. "This is Bree and Sloane."

What followed was a cheerful commotion of hugs, back slaps and well-wishes as Lewis deftly made the rounds. To Bree's relief, his family seemed just as warm and gregarious as he had described.

If anything, they seemed impressed by her vibrant spirit and career accomplishments. Lewis' father in particular was delighted to discover Bree's Caribbean heritage, insisting they were practically "family already."

At one point, Lewis was gently pulled aside by his mother, Carmen. Concern furrowed the older woman's brow as she studied her son intently.

"So...what do you think of her, Mum?" Lewis asked almost shyly.

Carmen's expression softened as she glanced over at where Bree and Nicola were giggling together. "I think...I haven't seen you look this happy and fully yourself in a long time, sweetie."

She reached up to cup Lewis' cheek, her eyes shining with emotion. "That girl clearly adores you. And you've already taken her little one into your heart as well."

Lewis' smile was beatific as he covered his mother's hand with his own. "She's the one, Mum. I'm going to marry her someday."

Carmen arched an eyebrow, though her tone remained gentle. "Are you ready for that? To be a father to that little girl, and take on all those responsibilities?"

Lewis didn't hesitate. "More than ready," he stated with conviction. "Bree and Sloane...they're my world now. I can't imagine my life without them in it."

Pulling his mother into a firm embrace, Lewis felt his heart swell almost to bursting. For so many years, this kind of profound contentment had eluded him despite all his success. But somehow, fate had brought these two incredible ladies into his life. And he would spend every day showing them how indescribably grateful he was.

As they prepared for their upcoming trip to Grenada, articles started appearing in The Sun and The Daily Mail hinting that Lewis was dating Bree. Twitter was going crazy, with Lewis' massive fandom mostly showing support, especially after photos and videos surfaced of him with Sloane at the Silverstone race weekend. Sloane had been put 'in charge' of caring for Lewis' beloved English bulldog, Roscoe, and both she and the dog were practically attached to Lewis' hip the entire time.

Meanwhile, Sloane's father was up in arms once more about the apparent relationship. Bree's phone rang with the sperm donor himself on the other line.

"How dare you let that race car driver get so close to my child!" he yelled. "He thinks he can just swoop in and play dad now?"

"I mean someone has to do it," Bree muttered under her breath.

"I'm going to sue for full custody if you keep letting that man around my daughter!" Sloane's father shouted over the phone. "You're just a useless whore letting any man walk all over you!"

It was at that moment that Lewis came walking into the kitchen, having just finished playing in the backyard with Sloane. He immediately sensed the tension on Bree's face.

"Give me the phone," Lewis said firmly, holding his hand out.

Bree shook her head, not wanting to subject him to her ex's vitriol. But then the man's voice came through again.

Lewis' jaw clenched and he commanded again, "The phone, Bree. Now."

Reluctantly, she passed it over, her eyes apologetic. Lewis gave her a reassuring nod before putting the phone to his ear. "Who the fuck do you think you are, speaking to her like that?" he said sternly.

"Who do YOU think you are?" the man retorted. "You have no right getting cozy with my kid!"

Lewis' expression hardened. "I care deeply about both Bree and Sloane," he stated firmly. "And I'll be damned if I let you disrespect them like this."

"You think you can just insert yourself into my daughter's life?" Sloane's father sneered. "Playing father figure and getting handsy with her mother? Over my dead fuckin' body."

She opened her mouth to let loose a blistering retort, but Lewis squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Listen here, mate," Lewis' voice was low but resonant with conviction. "I love that little girl as if she were my own flesh and blood. Sloane is everything to me, to us. And I'll be damned if you try to keep us apart with your selfishness and toxic presence."

Bree's breath caught at the fierce protectiveness in Lewis' words. She covered his hand with her own, lending him her strength.

On the other end, Sloane's father sputtered indignantly before finding his voice again. "You arrogant prick! You can't just—"

"That's enough." Lewis's words sliced through the man's tirade like a whip. "Your disrespect ends now. And if you continue speaking to Bree this way, you'll never see Sloane again."

There was a pause on the other end. "Is that a threat?" Sloane's father spat.

"No," Lewis said coldly. "It's a promise." He disconnected the call and turned his full attention to Bree, wrapping his arms around her firmly. "How long has he been talking to you like that, love?"

Bree let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. "Not long...just when we started getting serious."

Lewis scoffed, rolling his eyes at her ex's audacity. The man had been absent for most of Sloane's life, and now that another man was stepping up, he wanted to play father?

"Next time he does that, record it," Lewis instructed. "Take it to your lawyers. I don't want that piece of shit thinking he can verbally abuse you however he pleases. He's going to fuck around and end up in a ditch somewhere if he keeps going down this road."

Bree searched his eyes intently. "You would...kill for me? For us?"

"Yes." Lewis met her gaze unflinchingly. "I'd do anything for you and Sloane. Anything at all."

The fierceness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.

-------------------------------------------------

Bree sighed contentedly as she gazed out at the pristine Grenadian beach. So much had happened so quickly - meeting Lewis' friends and family, being accepted into their fold almost instantly alongside Sloane, yet it all felt so natural, like the missing pieces finally clicking into place.

Her eyes shielded from the brilliant sun, she watched as Lewis chased the waves with Sloane, both of them shrieking with laughter. He looked utterly gorgeous with his toned, tattooed physique glistening with saltwater, the picture-perfect image of a doting father. The idea of giving Sloane a sibling, with Lewis as the dad, sounded unexpectedly appealing. Though she had a few eggs frozen, she wondered if pregnancy at her age would be difficult, but as scary as that thought was, she couldn't fathom being with anyone else. Their seven month relationship felt more profound than any bond she'd ever known.

Down the beach, Lewis was helping Sloane construct an elaborate sandcastle, patting the wet sand into turrets.

"Lewis?" Sloane piped up suddenly.

"Yes, princess?"

"Do you love my mom?"

He smiled warmly. "Yes, I do. Very much. And I love you too."

Sloane beamed, delighted by his answer. "Will you marry my mom then? My parents were married but then they got divorced."

Lewis' heart melted at her hopeful expression. "You want me to make an honest woman out of your mum?"

She nodded vigorously. "I just want her to be happy."

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make you both happy," he vowed. "But would it be okay with you, if I married your mum?"

"Duh!" Sloane rolled her eyes dramatically. "I already think of you as my bonus dad."

Lewis felt his throat tighten with emotion at Sloane's words. This amazing little girl and her mother had utterly stolen his heart.

Gently, he pulled Sloane into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. "You know I love you like you're my own daughter, right? You and your mum are everything to me."

Sloane nodded against his chest. "I know. That's why you should marry her." She pulled back to look up at him with those big, innocent eyes. "Will you be my dad for real then?"

"Of course, princess," Lewis murmured, brushing the sandy hair from her face. "If your mum will have me, I'd be honored to be your dad in every way that matters."

Sloane grinned, throwing her little arms around his neck excitedly. Down the beach, Bree watched the tender scene with a wistful smile. She could clearly see the love between Lewis and her daughter - it was undeniable.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Lewis glanced over and raised a hand in a beckoning wave. Bree rose fluidly to her feet and made her way over, sandals dangling from one hand.

"Everything okay over here?" she asked lightly as she approached.

Lewis stood, pulling Bree flush against his side with his free arm. "More than okay," he replied, dropping a kiss on her salty hair. "We're building a sandcastle estate and could use the extra hands, right Sloane?" Sloane was too busy packing buckets full of wet sand into elaborate castle molds to answer and Lewis shrugged. "Alrighty then, let's get to work."

As they worked together under the warm sun, Bree couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of simple joy with the little family she created.

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was in full swing, and Lewis was basking in the excitement of being publicly "Instagram official" with Bree. He had Bree by his side, and he was so happy to be able to publicly show off their relationship.

It wasn't that he cared what anyone else thought - Lewis had never been one to seek approval or validation from others. But having Bree by his side made everything feel more real, more solid. She was his rock, his anchor in this wild world of racing. These last few months, although crazy at times, were the best memories to experience with Bree.

And she looked stunning as always. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her fitted red dress hugged her curves in all the right places. She was by Lewis' side through all the glitzy festivities and parties surrounding the race weekend, including the launch of his Almave pop-up bar. With Sloane spending the weekend with Bree's mother, it was a kid-free getaway, and he intended to take full advantage.

He knew Bree's ex-husband would be fuming seeing pictures of them together online, but Lewis didn't give two flying fucks about him anymore. He was focused solely on Bree and the profound happiness she brought him. Bree's arm was looped through his as they made their way through the crowded VIP party for the race sponsors. He greeted familiar faces with warmth and charm, introducing her to everyone he knew.

"You're a natural at this," Lewis remarked as they headed towards the bar for some much-needed drinks.

Bree laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, I'm just winging it."

He shook his head in mock disapproval as they approached the bar. "Don't sell yourself short," he said seriously before turning to order their drinks.

_____________________________________

After dinner one evening at their hotel's high-end restaurant, fans swarmed Lewis for autographs as they exited. "You're a lucky man," one told him, eyeing Bree appreciatively. "She's gorgeous."

Lewis' arm tightened around her waist. "I know," he said simply, pride warming his tone.

Back in their suite, they came together in a heated clash of lips and roving hands, shedding clothes as they stumbled towards the bedroom. Bree reveled in the hard planes of Lewis' body, tracing the lines of his tattoos as he worshipped her with his mouth.

He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her to bed, laying her down gently before joining on top of her, settling between her legs. Their bodies fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces as they moved together in a rhythm that felt almost too familiar now.

Every time they made love was like a brand new experience for them both. They never grew tired of exploring each other's bodies or finding new ways to pleasure one another.

In between stolen kisses and whispered declarations of love, they lost themselves completely in each other until they reached that explosive climax. Afterwards, they lay sated and tangled in the plush hotel linens. Bree traced idle patterns across Lewis' chest as he tucked her against his side.

"Have you thought about getting married again?" he asked quietly.

Bree's head whipped up in surprise. "Here? In Vegas?"

Lewis chuckled, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "No, love. No offense to others, but I could never get married here. I meant...in a year or two, maybe. With me."

Her breath caught at the meaningful weight behind his words. "I...actually think about that a lot," she admitted shyly. "I can see us having a future together."

Warmth bloomed in Lewis' eyes. "You can?"

Bree nodded, feeling herself get swept up in the thrilling certainty of what she felt for this man. "Yes. A real future - marriage, forever."

Lewis looked utterly overjoyed as he cupped her face tenderly. "Okay then...future Lady Hamilton."

A startled laugh bubbled up from Bree's lips. "Lady Hamilton? Is that what I'll be since you're Sir Lewis?"

"Precisely." His grin was terribly smug. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like some character from Bridgerton!" she giggled, swatting his chest playfully.

Lewis joined in her mirth, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. "I can see the resemblance."

Bree's laughter slowly faded as she gazed at the man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Her future husband - it had a deliciously appealing ring to it.

The End.....or is it?

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (04)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, the word "dick" is mentioned a few times lol, jeon jungkook (yes, bc at this point he's annoying even to me), yoongi is a menace, oc is fighting with everybody asdfgjkl girl 🙄, inaccuracies about music making !! and i hope obs readers aren't music majors bc that'd be really embarrassing for me lol, idk i think that's it

rating: PG-15

word count: 16.3k

note: a major thank you to @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this for me and for doing it so fast!!, you are a gem ily jo 🥺🥰 aaaaaand omg yeah! i can't believe the duck is here. he's finally here!!! ah we love to see it hehehehe :') it feels fitting that obs4 is the one to close off 2022 <3

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Ask your new lover what it's like to be given A real fighting chance before you wish her, "Good riddance,” Did anything ever really count Or was I just a two-year practice round?

Before - NIKI

Ah, the grand opening of Jimin’s own dance studio. It’s been in the works for a while now, ever since he quit his job as an instructor at that fancy academy downtown. 

When you arrive at the venue, the event is already in full swing. You would’ve come sooner, to see Jimin before things get too hectic and more people would want to steal him away to say their congratulations. You could’ve come sooner, had you accepted Jungkook’s offer to drive the both of you here. It’s the less time-consuming option, and one that’s more environmentally conscious, but you didn’t want to be left alone with Jungkook – not after what Namjoon had unintentionally revealed to you – in a space where you couldn’t force him to just talk about work while Jimin went to mingle with his guests, and Taehyung couldn’t get off work any earlier than 6:30.

You have to hand it to Jimin. He really went all out for this. The venue he booked looks amazing, and so much bigger than you expected, but that’s probably to accommodate the shit ton of people he invited tonight. There’s catering, cutesy party favors, and most importantly, an open bar that you absolutely would die for. Bless Jimin and his excessive spending heart.

Although, the photographer that he got for tonight can’t exactly be considered great. He looks young, maybe early 20s and still hasn’t learned how to lose the attitude yet, just walking around with his hefty camera and looking like he has a stick up his ass. He’s definitely being underpaid. Jimin must not have taken this factor into account until he had already exceeded his budget.

“Oh, Jiminie,” you mutter to yourself like a mom whose child just won the school talent show, making a beeline for Jimin and pulling him into a hug, not caring that he’s holding a flute of champagne that could’ve easily spilled onto you. “Jiminie, I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you’ve worked, and you deserve this so much. I love you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Every single syllable that slips from your lips is genuine. You’ve seen how passionate Jimin is, and you know how long this has been a dream of his. In your eyes, he deserves the absolute world and more.

You kiss his cheek to emphasize the meaning behind your words. You’ve never been the sentimental type with your friends except for rare occasions like these. On birthdays, you're not the one to shoot them the first happy birthday! text at 12AM on the dot, nor are you the one to plan surprise parties and go all out on extravagant presents.

You have your own way of showing your friends that you love them without any grand, tacky gestures. You like to think that you’re a good friend, and you hope they think that too.

But… you feel guilty today. You feel guilty for even toying with the idea of not going just because you didn’t want to face Jungkook in a setting that wasn’t the studio. When Taehyung asked if you had gotten the invite and you couldn’t confirm your attendance right away, he looked at you like you were out of your mind. He looked at you like Why wasn’t dropping every single one of your plans not the first thought that comes to mind when you received the text. Because this is Jimin you’re talking about. One of your closest friends. The incredulousness on Taehyung’s face that night made you feel small because really, you were being selfish.

After the breakup, you repeatedly assured Taehyung that he should still be friends with Jungkook, though the petty part of your brain wanted nothing more than to have Taehyung cut off all ties with your ex and tell him to go shove it.

If you weren’t in the picture, they still would’ve bonded the way they did and developed that kind of brotherly connection. Just because you and Taehyung were closer doesn’t mean that he and Jungkook weren’t close. They were close throughout college, and it had nothing to do with the fact that one was your best friend and the other was your boyfriend. That’s why you weren’t particularly fond of making Taehyung lose someone he considered family, even if that man did stomp on your heart to hell and back.

You just had to make it crystal clear to Taehyung – and Jimin by extension – to not put you and Jungkook in the same place ever again.

And that’s exactly what Taehyung and Jimin have been doing these past few years. Birthday parties, nights out and celebratory dinners multiplied by two to keep you and Jungkook separate. It was like you were strangers who never knew each other existed. Different worlds that can’t ever collide. You all got used to this certain arrangement. It works out for everybody: You don’t have to see your ex, and Jimin and Taehyung get to keep their friend. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

The barrier that you forced between you and him worked, but sadly it did put a strain on Taehyung and Jimin’s wallets. You were always a group of five though, until Hoseok moved abroad the very week before college ended. He didn’t even attend graduation. That summer, you weren’t the only one left heartbroken. Hoseok’s parents had turned a 180 and decided to make him pursue another degree to take over the family business instead of continuing to let him follow his dreams, which have always been music and dancing. When he broke the news, you all gathered around and cried together. You were beyond upset for him; you knew how Hoseok shined the brightest when he got to do what he loved.

Since then, he only comes back a couple of times a year. Every time, you would all try and make the most of it, wanting to relive those college days that you cherished so much. But during each of these visits, there is always something bittersweet that you think you all could feel. Because Hoseok wasn’t a constant in your lives anymore. The five of you were thick as thieves. You were there for each other through every high and every low. It’s somber to think that you will never have that ever again.

Hoseok wasn’t there to personally witness what the breakup did to you, but you were certain that he knew about it. Taehyung and Jimin must have told him at some point. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper conversation with Hoseok about how your relationship with Jungkook ended. He only visits as seldom as it is. You don’t want to spend every reunion wallowing in misery, or make everything about your baggage when everyone has their own shit to deal with.

“Shit, Y/N, why are you being sappy?” Jimin mutters as he blinks at you, eyes glassy, all shy and adorable when he sniffles. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

It isn’t until then that you notice Jungkook standing next to Jimin, having watched the whole interaction with an identical champagne glass in his hand and a small smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says, even though it has only been a couple of hours since you last saw each other. 

You send him a nod, merely to acknowledge his presence. Taehyung pulls Jimin into a hug of his own too, swaying him from side to side like they’re in their own little world. 

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on the side of your face but you keep your eyes trained on Taehyung’s back, watching your two friends be dramatic and goofy and happy.

When you deem that they’ve had their fun, you tug Taehyung back by his jacket. “Okay, that’s enough, lovebirds. You’re acting like you don’t see each other every other day. Stop being so clingy.”

“No!” Jimin swats your hand away but lets his friend go regardless. He’s smiling so big that his eyes have turned into narrow slits, pearly whites on full display, cute pinchable cheeks turned rosy from the champagne and euphoria. “Do I look weird? I feel like I look weird. I can’t stop smiling.”

“You don’t look weird,” you say, booping his nose affectionately then ruffling his head of blond hair. “You look perfect.”

Jimin blushes, which makes him even cuter. Then his eyes light up when he spots someone behind you. His hand shoots up to wave the person over to your table as he calls, “Hobi hyung!”

Hobi– what?

You and Taehyung turn around, four eyes flying wide open.

Slapping a hand to Taehyung’s chest, you gasp. “Holy shit. Did you know about this?!”

“No! I’m as shocked as you are!”

Hoseok skips the pleasantries. He just grins brightly and yanks you and Taehyung into him, crushing you two in his hug as he shakes you enthusiastically. When he lets go, he kisses both of your cheeks. He diverts his attention to Jungkook then, yelling out Jaykay! so loudly that people turn to look. He does the same thing to Jungkook as he did to you, enveloping the younger man in a very Hoseok-esque embrace.

“Hobi!” you squeal, completely overjoyed. Taehyung looks about the same as you, the two of you practically bouncing like golden retrievers. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to be here?”

Hoseok shares a look with Jimin, and they both break out into a fit of giggles. “Obviously I wasn’t going to miss tonight,” he says. “But I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. You should’ve surprised Jimin with me, not the other way around.”

“Wha– Jung Hoseok, you blocked me last month after I sent you that jumpscare video.”

“Oh, right,” he laughs. “In any case, it’s always so good to see all of you simp over me every time I come home.”

“Hobi, I implore you to stop saying ‘simp’ as a grown ass man.”

“Y/N, this grown ass man implores you to stop calling him Hobi.”

It isn’t until now that you start to relax more. Everything feels so much simpler now that Hoseok is here and all of you are together. Catching up with him, you’re always enraptured to hear the stories he has to tell. Even if it’s brief and the bubble has to eventually burst, he never fails to give you that odd sense of peace you’ve been craving since you got older. Hoseok has a way of making time stretch on forever, in a good way. 

At one point, he stops talking, noticing something out of place. “Oh? You two…” he gestures between you and Jungkook, and the conversation seems to end here because even Hoseok doesn’t know what to say or what to ask. Clearly Taehyung and Jimin haven’t been doing a very good job at keeping him up to date. Then things just start getting kinda awkward again.

You feel partly to blame. After all, you’re one of the two people making this weird for everybody.

For most of the night, you manage to avoid talking to Jungkook. It’s not that difficult really, with Taehyung practically gluing himself to your side (per your request) and catching up with Hoseok, Jungkook could hardly get a word in with you.

You pat Taehyung on the cheek. “Thanks for sticking with me,” you tell him.

“Of course,” he says. “And y’know, it’s not like you really gave me a choice.”

Your hand that’s still on his cheek goes to pinch it. His cheek is so squishy, it feels like you’re kneading dough. You can’t help but squeeze your fingers a little harder.

“Ah! Okay!” he squeaks out. “Sorry!”

You giggle at his frowny face before giving him another affectionate pat. “Seriously, can you imagine Jungkook seeing me drunk without you to hold me back? That’s one of my worst nightmares.”

Taehyung bites his tongue, remembering the night he had put Jimin on pick up duty and Jungkook had tagged along. Taehyung even recalls the morning after, when he was walking on eggshells around you, trying to figure out if your memory would serve you. When he was positive that it didn’t, he had to thank the heavens for letting him live to see another day.

Because if you ever find out, oh you would kill him. You would knock him to the ground and strangle him with your bare hands. He’s absolutely certain that you would. Knowingly letting your friend’s ex see her absolutely shitfaced and crying over said ex? Now that is heinous.

“Hold this,” Taehyung says now that it’s just the two of you, handing you his glass of whiskey. Hoseok got pulled somewhere so Jimin could introduce him to some of his staff, and Jungkook is… well, you have no idea where he is. “I have to pee.”

“What, now?”

“No, two hours from now. I’m just announcing it in advance,” Taehyung deadpans. “Yes, now!”

“I literally just thanked you.” You glare up at him. He starts to get sassy a couple of drinks in. “I’ll come with you.”

“What, to the men’s bathroom? Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I don’t even see Jungkook anywhere. He’s probably mingling. C’mon, I’ll be gone two minutes, tops, okay?”

“No, no, no, wait–!” Aaand he’s already jogging away. Great.

You sigh, take a sip of Taehyung’s drink and immediately grimace. You really don’t like whiskey. You find an empty table nearby to put the glass down and loiter. To anyone, you must look like you’ve got a bad case of social anxiety, standing alone and fidgeting like that, but no, what you have is Jungkook anxiety. 

As you keep your head down and pull out your phone to make it seem like you actually have something to do instead of waiting for your friend to return from the bathroom, your head bobs gently to the faint music coming from the speakers. Peace lasts for about thirty seconds. You turn to look when someone nudges your shoulder.

“You look beautiful,” Jungkook tells you with a smile that almost blinds you. You have to admit, he’s so handsome tonight, and it’s part of why you’ve been avoiding looking at him since you got here.

You glance down at your outfit. You tend to dress more casually at the studio, but today, you wanted to up the ante a little bit for Jimin. It’s nothing fancy, just a smidge more put-together than what you usually go for. Knee-high boots, a black skirt, a cozy sweater and your favorite winter coat. Actually put on some blush for once  to top it all off.

“I’ve looked like this since the morning.”

“I know,” he says. “I’ve been wanting to say it all day.”

It’s the compliment, the sparkling eyes and the soft, warm smile making your face heat up. You bite the inside of your cheek, urging yourself to snap out of it.

The strategy is to deflect. You practically shove your phone in his face with the Gmail app open, making him squint in reflex at the sudden brightness assaulting his eyes. “So Namjoon just sent me this–”

Jungkook takes a step back and brushes your hand away. “Honestly, if it’s fine with you, can we not talk about work?” he chuckles as he says this. “I just got out of the studio. I’d rather not think about it for a minute.”

So it would appear that deflecting is not a viable option.

“Oh, okay.” You nod slowly, putting your phone back into your bag. You are so awkward, and too sober for this, and desperately need your Taehyung-shaped buffer. “Uhm, so… what now?”

Jungkook gives you a quiet chuckle, trying to go over this as nonchalantly as possible. “Friends can talk about things. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Your brows furrow slightly as you recall what you told Seokjin before. Friends… Jungkook still doesn’t seem to know the definition of the word. Does he think you meant it? That you were actually friends now? He can’t be that fucking dense, can he? When he came knocking at your door not that long ago, has he forgotten that look in your eyes and the door closing in his face when he uttered this exact word to you?

From the start, Jungkook was never your friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to do this at the studio and I didn’t want to do it here, today, Jimin’s big day, but I have to ask. What are you doing?”

He blinks, seemingly confused, and it prompts you to continue.

“What is this? What am I supposed to talk about with you if it’s not work?” you say slowly. “You know I was just saying that to not make things awkward for Seokjin and Namjoon, right?” Too slowly, like he’s stupid and you need to enunciate every syllable. You can’t help it.

Jungkook puts his champagne glass on the table. He looks a little lost, and it’s clear that this is a turn that neither of you expected. See, you think, wishing Taehyung would come back right this second to witness this, This is why I need to drink.

“What happened? I thought we were doing fine.”

He took the words right out your mouth, only a few years too late.

Is he serious? He really is that dense?

Your mouth falls open, trying to gauge if you are actually on the same topic, or if you’re even speaking the same language. It can’t be more painfully obvious that you two have been living completely different realities.

“You happened,” you snap, amazed by the fact that you even have to tell him.

You stop short of saying: Fuck you. You unraveled my life like a hurricane and now I have to be the one to remind you of it? You wanted nothing to do with me the last five years and now you’re trying to get me all to yourself?

You can’t help the next question that slips out either. Blame the small part of you that’s been dying to know this since you found out the news from Namjoon. “Why would you think that we’d be fine? Who do you think I am to you?”

Jungkook’s lips part but he doesn’t say anything for nearly half a minute. His face falls just a tad, and you don’t really know what to make of that. His eyes glimmer under the lights. With what, you can’t know for certain. It must be shame. Is it possible that there’s guilt swimming in those irises? Underneath the surface of those brown eyes, is it too much to ask that there be some regret too?

You think the question nicked him somewhere you can’t see. Call it wishful thinking, but you hope it’s the same place that he has always cut into you.

Bleed. Bleed like you made me bleed.

Finally, he says, “You’re…”

Then, Jimin practically shouts into a mic that he has procured somewhere. Wonderful timing, blondie.

“Can everyone gather at the front for a group photo please? I’m going to hang it on the wall!”

You don’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful for the interruption. That void that you used to fill with anger and resentment is now bubbling with something else. No matter how hard you try to swallow it all down, you know it won’t stop until you overflow, until you’re swallowed whole by that grief again. You feel foolish. Cheap. Hard to love, hard to keep. He meant the world to you but to him, turns out you were merely replaceable.

You turn away from Jungkook in favor of another chaos. In the midst of the grand Park family – Jimin’s many cousins, bubbly nieces and nephews who all want to be in the center of the photo – you get pushed to the side. There’s too many people here. It’ll probably end up looking like one of those company pictures where at least half the people have their eyes closed and the other half look like they can’t wait to get out of there. You don’t know where Taehyung is, if he’s even back from the bathroom. You’re so tired. So drained, all of a sudden. You miss your bed and your comfy pillows and your warm fluffy blanket. You want to sink into it and melt like a piece of marshmallow on hot chocolate.

You stand there awkwardly on the very edge, aware of Jungkook loitering a couple of steps from you as you both wait for people to make up their mind on where to stand. You can tell that the photographer is getting frustrated when he finally steps in to guide the older people when they start looking like buffering Sims. You don’t even know where Jimin and Hoseok are either.

“Okay, is everyone ready?” the photographer asks, his voice unamused as he raises the camera to look through the viewfinder. He doesn’t even wait for any confirmation and just starts counting down. No doubt about it, Jimin is definitely underpaying this guy. “Three, two, o– Wait. You on the left. No, my left. Yes, you, guy in the black coat. Could you stand closer? You’re almost out of the frame.”

Jungkook – “guy in the black coat” – shuffles closer until you can smell his familiar cologne over the overwhelming floral scent radiating off the woman next to you. He moves until the photographer gives his nod of approval, until your arms touch. It makes you nervous, even through the layers of clothes. What was he going to say? What did you want him to say? What could be a good enough answer?

You all smile as the camera clicks a few times. You might’ve had your eyes closed in one of the shots. Seriously, you have to make Jimin show you the picture before he commemorates his wall with it. If you have to be immortalized on a wall next to your ex, then at least you should look good.

Everybody disperses after that; some going to bid Jimin goodbye as they end the night and go home, some returning to their previously established groups to chat some more. You feel like now is probably a good time to leave.

You move to go find Taehyung, but someone stops you. A warm hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back. You glance at where Jungkook’s skin touches yours, then your eyes flicker up to meet his. They don’t let you move, and neither do the words he says next. His face is softer than you’ve witnessed in a while. No teasing, no bravado. Just honesty.

“You’re someone important to me.”

Oof. Two strikes in one night.

It makes you angry for some reason – his honesty. Because it really looks like he believes it to be true.

This is the last thing you wanted, fighting when you’re supposed to be celebrating Jimin, but you suppose it’s happening. “I can’t tell if you mean it or if you’re just playing with me,” you say.

Jungkook pales a shade as you stare at him with hard eyes.

“I do mean it,” he says. He looks down at your hand, his fingers on your wrist twitching. 

“If that were really the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” you tell him. “If I were really important to you, you wouldn’t have screwed me over like that. If I were really important, you wouldn’t be here right now, acting like I’m something you can throw away whenever you feel like it, and pick back up like nothing ever happened. You know, I was starting to be okay. I was starting to get used to it and you just had to come waltzing back into my life. Do you know how important this is to me? That this is my dream I get to live but I’m just trying to survive it and never have to see you again? Why can’t you just– Fuck.”

You choke on the last of it, knowing that if you keep going, you will cry, and your pride won’t let you break down in front of your friends and strangers alike. In front of Jungkook. You count each breath in your head to steady yourself until your lungs feel less like they’re going to burn out of oxygen. 

You’re surprised that you were able to say that without much liquid courage. You’re glad that you’re standing near the corner of the room where nobody is really paying attention to you. Jungkook lets go of your wrist, visibly gulping as he does so. It feels like there’s an entire orchestra in here – people talking, music playing, all echoing around the room – and you suppose you’re thankful for that. He can’t hear your heart screaming over the noises. If you weren’t sure if he was feeling ashamed before, then you’re sure now. He should be ashamed, for everything he put you through. If you could, you would give it back to him ten times worse.

Quietly, Jungkook says, “I’m sorry,” and then nothing else.

You swear you can hear a clock go tick, tock, tick, tock… The passage of time is so palpable, like something you can hold in your hands. Minutes upon minutes, hours upon hours, days upon days - they sit in the palm of your hands but amount to nothing at all. They slip through your fingers again. Nothing is guaranteed, you realize belatedly then, certainly not closure. You’re never going to get it right. He’s always going to blindside you.

And no matter how hard you try to keep him at bay, he’s always going to get under your skin.

Stop slipping. Stop slipping. Stop slipping.

“Huh,” you mutter to yourself, bitterly, confusedly, amusedly, “I thought that would feel better.”

“What?” he asks.

“Hearing you say sorry. Did you know that you never said sorry to me?”

“It’s not– I–” he stutters. How could he possibly object to that? It’s the truth. It’s the absolute and pathetic truth. He leaves the sentence unfinished like the history of the two of you, half written until he decided that he was done with it. Time would not tell the rest, and all you were left with were blank pages that no one could fill. “I’m sorry,” he ends up saying again, as if repeating it would make the words have more gravity. If that is his intention then you suppose he succeeds, because it makes your heart heavier.

“I’m trying to do right by you.”

You consider it for a second. When you turn away, you find Taehyung across the room, already looking at you, though you don’t think he can hear anything from where he’s standing. Your friend has ‘worried’ written all over his face.

“Are you trying to do right by me? Or by you?” you ask, and then something starts to sink in. You spent so much time thinking about it, wondering where everything went wrong. Going around in circles, dwelling, trying to put together puzzle pieces that just won’t fit. That’s time that you can never get back. You’ve always known that at some point, you would have to let it all go. Maybe now is that point. Let go of things that you have no control over. You’re only burning yourself by holding on. Isn’t it better to let it scar than to keep picking at the wound and making it bleed? “Actually, it doesn’t even matter anymore. What’s the point? I’ve come to terms with it. You can do whatever you want to feel better. Just do it by yourself. Don’t use me.”

Jungkook frowns. “I’m not using you.”

You manage to suppress the urge to scoff. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? Thinking you could come back and sweet talk me and then you’d be absolved just like that?”

“I know you must hate me,” he says. “...for everything.”

“I do.” No fucking shit. “If you know that, then why are you doing this?” Don’t push it, your brain says, but the way he’s staring at the ground, unable to meet your eyes, looking like a puppy you just kicked makes you annoyed. “Did you know that the first time I ever saw you, I hated you?” you ask, making his eyes flit up to yours. “I wish we could’ve left it at that.”

When his face flashes with hurt, you almost feel bad even though you wished for this. His jaw clenches as you walk away, leaving him there by himself.

“Wanna head home?” Taehyung asks before you have to even say anything. He regards you with soft and apologetic eyes, with a gentle hand on your arm and concern still etched onto his features. Taehyung is a warm summer’s breeze compared to the desolate winter that Jungkook has made of you. You answer with a simple nod.

“Wait for me by the car. I’ll say bye to Jimin and be right out,” Taehyung tells you.

“Okay.”

He puts an arm around your shoulder and squeezes you once. “Sorry about that by the way… There was a line for the bathroom.”

Monday comes too soon.

You have to face Jungkook again too soon.

“Unclench your butt.”

You snap your head to the sound of Yoongi’s voice right next to your ear. His tone is teasing, and his face even more so. The man’s got way too much energy for 9 in the morning.

“Excuse me?” you grumble. You’ve been standing outside the studio for almost ten minutes now, letting your nerves eat away at you because you know Jungkook is already here. You saw his car earlier. 

“Your butt,” your friend says. “It’s too clenched.”

“You were looking at my butt?” You give him a disapproving look.

“Only because you look like you’re trying to hold in a shit.” Yoongi shrugs indifferently. “Why are you standing out here anyway?”

Your fingers twitch around the strap of your bag as you try to give him a nonchalant answer. “Trying to manifest the death of capitalism before you interrupted me.”

“Mhmm,” he says, eyeing you suspiciously like a distrusting cat. “Spill. What happened?”

“What happened with what?”

“I know you went to your friend’s thing on Friday. And I know Jungkook was there too. So what happened?”

You debate whether or not you should tell Yoongi. It’s not like you have anything to hide; he already knows about your history anyway. But he’s been the most insufferable toward Jungkook in the short time that he’s been here, and giving him the goss on your little conversation the other day would only give him another reason to be an even bigger menace. You bite your tongue, and put on the most neutral expression you can manage.

“Nothing happened,” you say. “You’re being nosy, Min.”

You push open the door to be greeted by an incredibly cheerful Seokjin and Namjoon. Why is everyone so bubbly on a Monday morning? Have they always been like this, or do you just feel like everything coming out of their mouths is sunshine and rainbows compared to the black cloud hovering over your head?

Seems like you aren’t the only one dreading the new week though. Jungkook visibly stiffens as you enter, completely devoid of that easy-going smile he always greets you with. “Hey,” he tells you.

“Morning,” you reply. To him, to Seokjin, to Namjoon. You take a seat at your usual corner, setting down your bag and pulling out your pen and notebook. 

Seokjin launches into conversation with Yoongi about a basketball game. Apparently there was one last night, but you don’t really care about that. Namjoon doesn’t seem to have much interest in the topic either, choosing to weigh in with an occasional hum here and there to be polite.

Like you, Jungkook is quiet. He knows enough about basketball to hold a conversation but you know it’s never been his favorite thing in the world. Normally though, even if he isn’t particularly knowledgeable in the matter at hand, he would still act like he’s genuinely absorbed in whatever everyone was talking about, just to be friendly and sociable. He was always very good at networking; that’s why people loved him in college. From what you’ve seen, that trait carried over into adulthood as well. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook fidget in his chair. He turns his head every once in a while to glance at you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, nor Yoongi for that matter. Yoongi nudges your knee with his own, prompting a curious look from you. He leans closer to your ear and lowers his voice so that nobody can hear.

“Jungkook looks like his butt is pretty clenched too.”

Your grip on the pen loosens as you swirl it around absentmindedly, humming to yourself the melody off the page as if it’ll summon words to the sheet, where it’s mostly blank beneath all the squiggly music notes. The men – with the exception of Namjoon; he’s out for the day – gather around, discussing the first demo track. You drown most of it out. Your job here isn’t to wring out the kinks with the technical aspects anyway.

“We could record something for the rough demo today,” Yoongi thinks out loud.

“Today?” Jungkook asks as he arches an eyebrow. “For what track? We don’t have a single thing completely finished yet?”

“Buddy, are you a glass half empty kind of guy?” Yoongi jokes. “From what I see, we have at least four tracks halfway done. That’s enough for us to record.”

The younger man leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest, highly annoyed but he still tries to keep a straight face and an even voice. It’s his first big project, and this fucking person is coming in and stepping all over his toes. To Jungkook, Yoongi is just some guy. He has never understood what the hype was about with Agust D, why he has always been a massive media darling and why everybody seems so enamored with him. Seokjin talks about him like Jungkook should feel so privileged to have the opportunity to work with such talent. Namjoon, his own freaking mentor, practically idolizes Yoongi. He almost passed out from glee when he heard that Yoongi would be coming on board. Even when the label was trying to get the rapper to sign with them, Jungkook never got what all the fuss was about.

It’s almost frustrating to watch people around him fawn over Yoongi like he hangs the moon in the sky. If you feel the same way about him, you don’t let it show, but Jungkook can tell that you admire and respect the guy a lot. He just can’t figure out what the deal is between you and Yoongi. Something is there. If not from your side then definitely from Yoongi’s. He seems too protective of you. Taehyung is the same way, and so are Jimin and Hoseok, but with them, Jungkook understands. They’ve been friends with you since forever, and he can’t imagine that your friendship with Yoongi can ever be that special.

“I disagree,” Jungkook asserts. “It’s a waste of time to make a demo now when we’d have to do it all over again later. At this point, all we’ll get is scraps. It wouldn’t help us get anywhere.”

Yoongi glances at Seokjin, who’s been watching but not really contributing, and they both share a look. It makes Jungkook want to get more fired up because he is supposed to be in charge here, but Yoongi is clearly more in tune with what Seokjin wants and how he operates. Jungkook will be the first one to say that he is not the best team player, but at least he tries. It usually works out just fine in the end, once he can get his ego out of the way to actually get something done, but this time it’s proving to be quite the challenge when it seems like Yoongi is constantly trying to hinder him.

“Jungkook, look.” Even the way he says his name is irritating. “I’ve been doing this way longer than you have, buddy. I was a producer before I became a rapper. I think I know what I’m doing here.”

“And I see why you would think this is a good idea, but I’m saying it’s a waste of time and effort to do this when we’ll just have to redo the whole process later. You want a summer release. We don’t have the time, and do we even have enough budget–”

Yoongi tilts his head to one side with an amused smile. “Are you sure this is the right business for you? Should you be in risk assessment instead? Why are you here worrying about budgets and timing? That’s the whole point of doing preliminary demos, to help you see what direction to take and guide the creative process–”

“Okay, okay. Retract the claws, fellas,” Seokjin jumps in this time. “I’m with Yoongi on this one, JK. Take it easy, man.”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and nods begrudgingly. He makes it seem like he’s taking it in stride, tucking his chagrin behind a mask of indifference. Yoongi shrugs with a triumphant grin, clasping his hands together as he gestures both Seokjin and Jungkook to the soundbooth.

“What?” The younger man stares at the other two. “You want me in there too?”

“Yeah, just to test some stuff out. You have a nice voice,” Yoongi admits, and even though he’s being genuine for once, Jungkook still feels like it’s condescending somehow. Anything that comes out of Yoongi’s mouth is patronizing to him. “Couldn’t hurt to see how it would sound like with Jin hyung. Maybe we could even use it later.”

You’ve been trying to keep your head down and shut out all the sounds. Sounds of Jungkook fucking singing. Why did Min Yoongi have to force him into the box?

Back then, you used to tell him that he’s good enough to be a singer. He’d sing you to sleep whenever you were plagued with insomnia, or when you were sick, or just whenever you wanted him to. His voice always soothed you, made you feel warm all over. 

As if ignoring him today wasn’t difficult enough already.

“You’re bleeding.” You hear someone say a while later. 

Your head snaps up to see what’s going on. Somebody’s bleeding? How did that happen? But Seokjin and Jungkook are still in the booth, both looking at the paper that Jungkook is holding, talking to each other about something you can’t catch. You scan the room, brows furrowed, until you see Yoongi looking at you.

“Huh?” He points toward your hands. “You’re bleeding.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight until they land on what he’s staring at. You put the pen on the table and flex your hands. He’s exaggerating, they aren’t bleeding. Well, technically, they are if you count the reddened patches of cracked skin between your knuckles as bleeding. Your hands are just dry because the weather is cold. It happens. Dramatic Yoongi.

You wave him off with a smile. “Eh. It’s fine. I’ll put some lotion on it when I get home,” you lie. You don’t even have any hand cream. You’ve only tried using a dollop of body lotion on your hands once, but you didn’t like how your skin just felt so sticky afterward that it would leave visible prints when you touched your phone screen.

Yoongi shakes his head lightly. “No, you won’t. I’ve noticed that for a few days now.”

You level him with a look. “What are you, the hand police? It’s just dry hands. I’m not gonna die from that.”

“No, you‘re not,” Yoongi agrees, but regardless, he stands up and walks to retrieve his bag from where he left it on the couch. You watch with curiosity as he rummages through it until he pulls out a white tube of something. He crosses the distance to get to where you’re sitting and settles into the chair next to you. He reaches for your hands then, and says, “But do it for my sake. I don’t wanna look at your ugly witch's hands all day.”

“Yoongi!” you hiss, instantly scowling and failing to push him off when his stronger hand grasps one of your own. He pops open the tube and squeezes some of the cream onto your skin. “What are you doing?!”

“Hold still,” he says because you keep squirming. When the sheer weight of your glare on his face makes him look up at you, Yoongi actually glares back at you. Gasp. “Hold still,” he repeats firmly. 

You huff out a breath in annoyance. You glance at the booth to see if the guys are looking, but Seokjin still appears to be focused on the music sheet. You see and faintly hear him humming, his fingers tapping the air like he’s counting the beats. Jungkook, though… Jungkook is looking.

In the few seconds that your eyes meet his, you can tell that he’s trying to understand whatever the hell he’s watching here. You feel your cheeks heat up and you don’t really know if it’s because of Jungkook’s hard gaze on you or the feeling of Yoongi’s hands on your hands. You quickly turn away, missing the way the man in the booth pokes his tongue into a cheek.

You try to kick Yoongi in the shin but he manages to block your foot with his knee. He tuts at you disapprovingly. You watch him with a petulant frown as he rubs the cream into the back of your hand, between your knuckles, over each of your fingers. It feels expensive, though you would expect nothing less from Min Yoongi. The cream soaks into your skin right away, unlike that body lotion of yours that was obviously not made for this purpose. 

“You’re so overreacting over nothing,” you tell him.

“No, I’m not. Y/N, your hands were starting to look like coconut shavings,” he says casually, still focused on being your self-appointed hand masseuse it seems. “Is he looking?”

“What?”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi clarifies, his eyes darting up to your face for a brief second. “Is he looking?”

You exhale through your nose. “He was,” you say flatly, quite displeased with his shenanigans. “Yoongi, I told you not to do shit like this.”

His movements gradually slow. You don’t think there’s any more product on the surface left to absorb anyway. “I’m not doing this because of Jungkook, I promise,” he says, not pulling away just yet, letting his skin linger on yours. His head is still tilted downward, his gaze seemingly glued to where his thumb is swiping over your fingers. Jungkook used to do this too - absentmindedly playing with your fingers. It’s cute, and you hate to admit that the little things like this make you feel warm. You clench your jaw just once. Maybe it’s a guy’s thing.

For a moment, you actually think that he’s being sincere. About what, you don’t know. Then Yoongi looks up at you, eyes crinkling as he grins. “But pissing him off is definitely a huge plus.”

“You’re insufferable,” you tell Yoongi, rolling your eyes and shoving him away with your now moisturized hands. You gotta be honest, they do look and feel a lot better. Maybe you should pick some lotion up after work. You won’t tell Yoongi this, but you tried the exact one he just used on you a while back, in a store, and it smelled so good that you thought about it for two whole weeks. But when you saw the price tag, you immediately recoiled. It was one of the brands wherein the products were more expensive than the city’s median rent, so no wonder Yoongi would be the one to have something of theirs. Different tax brackets, you think.

Yoongi stumbles a little from your push. When he stands up, he takes one of your hands again, opening your palm and placing the tube there. “Use it every night before bed,” he instructs, like he’s a pharmacist and you’re just someone waiting to pick up their prescription.

“What?” You look at him, so serious and kind of offended. “Yoongi, I am not using your old shit!”

He sighs, wrapping your fingers around the tube so you would hold it there. “I don’t even use hand cream. I got that for you yesterday.”

Jungkook is so done. It’s been such a long week and it’s only the first day of the fucking week. After feeling so utterly helpless around you, losing to Yoongi and then watching Yoongi have his little moment with you right in front of him, Jungkook fully intends to drive straight to Jimin’s and raid his liquor cabinet until he gets a grip and figures out what to do on the you front. Especially since you called him out like that.

Jungkook hasn’t been able to focus in over an hour, after you left to go home, but he’s still cognizant enough to save the bits that he and Seokjin recorded earlier. He has witnessed how pissed Namjoon can get when they lose files due to carelessness, and no matter how level-headed his mentor usually is even in the most stressful of situations, Jungkook absolutely does not want to be on the receiving end of Namjoon’s scoldings when the man lets anger get the best of him.

Jungkook glances at the corner that you usually occupy with your nose buried in your notebook. It’s so empty in here; everyone else has already left. He sits there, heavy with so many realizations all at once. It feels like college all over, only this time, he isn’t just a stupid kid with a crush and a weird way of showing affection. He’s hurting you again. No matter what he does, he just keeps making it worse for you and him.

You were right, and it must’ve taken a lot for you to say what you said to him. It was crazy, and foolish, and most of all cruel for Jungkook to think he could patch things up with a smile. He knew how devastated he left you. Didn’t need to see the mess he made to know how much it fucked you up. Didn’t need anyone to tell him – even though his friends all tried – to know how unbelievably heartless it was to abandon the person who loved him the most. But back then, he believed he was doing the right thing. That’s how he coped with it, by trusting that it was the best decision he could make at the time. 

He still remembers that day like it was merely 24 hours ago.

The obliviousness in your voice when he told you he was coming over to talk and you said you had exciting news to share. The way he had cried in the car on his way over, pulled himself together just long enough to say “I’m breaking up with you,” and watched your eager smile drop. He could practically feel your heart in his open palm, crumbling to nothing as he gave it back to you. Like he was saying “I don’t want it anymore.” He remembers crying again on the drive after.

Everything is different now, but if he could go back, even with the knowledge of the fallout, he would still choose to do the same.

There was no point in telling Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, or just about anyone, why he felt like he had to do it. They would’ve just called him stupid and told you. He’s sure that if you knew then, you would try to reason with him, maybe you would even beg. And if you had begged him to stay, then there was no way he could follow through.

Jungkook locks up the studio and leaves. When he passes Jihyo at the reception, he hears her call his name but he pretends that he doesn’t. He’s too tired for this tonight. He just wants a drink, and he just wants to see you even though you were with him all day. 

Skipping the parking lot for now, Jungkook walks to the nearby store, wanting to bring something over to Jimin’s or else the older man will just grumble at him for coming empty handed. When he rounds the corner, he sees you walking by yourself in the small park across the street. Your hands are shoved in your pockets while you stare up at the starless night. Jungkook thinks you should belong in a painting.

He stands there curiously. If you looked straight ahead, you would see him. But you seem preoccupied with the clouds floating through the dark blue, too lost in thought to notice much. Your hand comes up when something lands on your face. A second later, Jungkook feels something wet and cold against his cheek too. He remembers.

He pulls out his phone, fiddles with it for a minute as he contemplates, and ultimately decides to tap on your name in his contacts. Pressing the device against his ear, he listens to it ring, and watches you fish your own phone from your bag. He takes note of the furrow between your brows, the fleeting clench of your teeth. He almost thinks you wouldn’t pick up, but you do.

“Hello?” you answer uncertainly. 

“Hey,” Jungkook says, “where are you?”

“Uhm…” There’s a pause. He wonders if you would lie. “Just out getting some air. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just… in front of you right now.”

Confusion overtakes your features. When your gaze crosses the street to land on him, you let out a small Oh, and give him a small awkward wave. He ends the call and rushes over, even though he doesn’t know what to say to you. He watches you wince, because you always hated whenever he jaywalked. It makes him smile a little.

“Hi,” you say as Jungkook stands in front of you.

“Hi,” he returns. “Mind if I join you?”

You stare up at him for a few seconds before deciding, “Yeah, sure.”

“What are you still doing here? You left like two hours ago,” he says. You walk together further into the park, where lonely lamp posts dimly light your path.

You shrug. “I went to get dinner and just… I don’t know. Felt like I could use some fresh air.”

“In this weather? It’s snowing.”

You both watch the breath that you huff out. “Well, it didn’t start snowing until you got here.”

The first snow, or just snow in general, is never as romantic as they make it seem in the movies. Sure it’s pretty, and when the ground is covered in a thick blanket of snow, it makes for a good Instagram story. But in reality? Snow is so fucking dirty, and when it starts melting, it is absolute hell for everybody. Your weather app didn’t say that it would snow today, but you should’ve known better than to trust that damn thing.

Jungkook hums, and silence falls over you like the snow, making everything so damp and gross. You hope it stops soon.

When some snowflakes land directly on your cheek, you wipe the moisture away with mild annoyance. “I hate snow,” you grumble, pulling your scarf tighter. If you had known that it would snow, you would’ve worn something with a hood and your sturdier boots.

Jungkook chuckles lightly as he watches you hiss when some snowflakes land on your head, startling your skin with its frost and slowly dampening your hair. “You don’t hate it,” he says. “You just hate it when you’re walking in the snow. I know you.”

The universe doesn’t give you time to dwell on that last comment. The ground beneath you turns slippery as you keep walking. You yelp loudly when your sneaker-clad feet skid on the thin ice sheet that the snow has created. You’re fully prepared for your ass to hit the pavement and consequently bruise in about half an hour, but Jungkook catches you with both hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him so you don’t hit the ground. Unlike you, his shoes have more traction.

Your heart hammers from the suddenness of the last thirty seconds. You can see each heavy breath that leaves your mouth and promptly dissipates into the cold air. You don’t realize that your hands are gripping his shoulders to help steady yourself, as if he doesn’t already have his arms wrapped securely around you, and you realize then that wow, this is the closest he’s been to you in years. It’s unbearable just how much you’ve missed being in his arms.

Just two people on an empty street, tangled up in each other, the falling snow your only audience – you look like you’ve landed yourself right in a romance drama, but in reality, this is anything but that.

You clear your throat and shuffle backward, out of his strong hold, careful not to trip and make a fool of yourself any more than you already have. “Thanks,” you say. “I should head home. It’s getting late.”

Jungkook nods. “Do you want to walk back to the company? I can give you a ride home.”

You consider this. The street is steadily being swallowed up by layers of white, and you don’t doubt that it will only be more difficult to navigate the road by yourself as the night gets darker and colder. Cabs are running more sparsely. It would take you forever to get home, especially in weather that makes you feel like a calf learning to walk for the first time.

“Yeah,” you agree, “sure, okay.”

The walk back to the building’s parking lot is mostly silent, and so is the ride to your apartment. You’ve never felt the first snow on your skin before, having always preferred to stay indoors on nights forecasted to experience snowfall. There’s something so wistful about witnessing the inauguration of winter yourself, how these delicate flowers of ice not only herald the ending of a season and the beginning of a new one, but also signal that another chapter of your life is about to close forever. It prompts you to mull over the last 12 months, to see if you’ve accomplished anything you set out to achieve or if you’ve wasted an entire year of your life. To share a moment like this with Jungkook makes you wonder if the universe is trying to send you a sign.

When the car stops at a red light a few blocks away from your place, you take the time to watch the snowflakes twirling outside the window. They wander in front of you, free yet aimless, like they’re asking if they could come in and seek refuge from the freezing cold. Not knowing warmth would be the thing that kills them. Adrift with the gentle wind until they land on the glass, only to die a mere second later. You break the silence.

“It’s kinda nice now,” you say, eyeing the marshmallow-looking ice that’s starting to pile up all around while you’re sheltered by the warmth of his car.

“See?” Jungkook chuckles. “Told you you only hate snow when you have to walk in it.”

“Hmm.” It’s true. You don’t want to admit it, but he did know you. Knew what drove you and what made you tick. Knew how your brain worked and how your heart moved. Knew that you loved him long before you could say it out loud.

Even when you lied that he doesn’t know you anymore, deep down you’re very well aware that he still does. 

“Can I ask you this one thing, though?” you say calmly, but something must alert him that you aren’t looking to talk about the weather or some other meaningless shit. Jungkook doesn’t give you a verbal answer, nor any other indication that you can go ahead and voice your question. He just looks at you before the light turns green, like he doesn’t really want you to ask anything but he has no other choice but to let you. Like he’s scared of what you might demand from him.

It’s okay. You weren’t asking for permission anyway.

“Did I…” love you enough? Was there a single moment where you thought I didn’t love you? “Back then,” you swallow, keeping your eyes on the snowy streets that turn into ivory blurs as the car starts moving again, “did I ever make you feel like you weren’t enough?”

Your ears don’t pick up on much sound in the infinite pocket of seconds that follows. Not the low hum of the car’s radiator, nor the wind that becomes harsher right outside the window. Just his breathing and the beat of your own heart, drowning in the anticipation of his answer.

What if he says yes? Would it mean that after all this time that you spent blaming him, it’s been your fault all along? Were you the one that drove him away?

“No,” he says, interrupting that voice in your head. “Not once.”

You don’t doubt that he’s telling you the truth, but it doesn’t make you feel better. His tone tells you there’s more than he’s letting on, but it doesn’t matter now. Before Friday night, Taehyung had asked if you would ask Jungkook the question, and after some consideration, you had said no. Maybe if it were a couple of years ago, or even a few months back when you saw him again, you would have said yes. You used to think that if he ever came back for whatever reason, the first thing you would ask him is why. You would confront him, demand an answer, make him walk you through every single thought he had before he decided to ruin your life.

But no answer could change the fact that he did leave. There is no excuse good enough to justify how he left you so completely crushed. Sure, knowing would give you some of the closure that you were desperately seeking at one point, but what if it makes everything worse? What if he left because he was looking for something, something more than you could give? What if he found it, only to realize then that it wasn’t worth leaving you for after all?

Now, at least you know that your efforts were felt. You did the best you could, loved him the best way you knew how. 

The man beside you clears his throat. You only notice now that Jungkook has already pulled up in front of your building. You haven’t spoken much before tonight, not about what happened at Jimin’s party. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, or if you should even bring it up. He seemed like he was trying to avoid the topic too. You had the weekend to relive every moment of that night over and over, and you obviously don’t want to talk about it, but you have to address it sooner or later if you want to move forward in peace. 

“Hey, uhm, about the other night…” you start.

He stiffens a bit, and then sighs. “I know,” he says. “You were right. It’s not fair of me to–”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off firmly. “Some of the things I said were harsh, and I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. His ears must deceive him, because, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I told you. I was harsh and it was uncalled for.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he says, frowning. He twists his body to face you. “I deserved it. You were right to call me out. Don’t backtrack.”

You stare at him with your lips pursed. “Why are you trying to argue right now?”

“Because I deserve your rage. Be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you,” you tell him but there’s no bite. You’re softening, loosening your grip while he’s the only one trying to hold on. “But I don’t want to be anymore.”

“Why not? You should. You have every right.”

“Jungkook, it’s been five years,” you chuckle without much humor, thinking back to what you’ve been doing in the last half a decade. Stalking your ex online, mourning your lost love every time he gets into a new relationship, holding out hope. And for what? What’s the point of it all? It’s not like you and him are going to get back together again. It’s a waste of time, time that you could spend trying to let him go and move on, whether he gives you that closure or not. “I’m tired and I just want to get on with my life. I don’t want to keep being bitter about it. What good will that do?”

His face is so serious all of a sudden, like he wants you to actually scream at him. Curse him out. Anything. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“Don’t feel like you have to make amends, or do anything right by me. Can we just, I don’t know, let the past remain in the past? I don’t want to make our friends feel like they have to act a certain way around me when it comes to you. It’s my problem, not theirs. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable anymore. So please, I’m not asking for anything else. I just want us all to… move forward.”

It’s then that he sees, oh, maybe you do belong in a painting. Sitting right in front of him but you’re so far away. He was once the artist but now, he’s merely a spectator.  “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m really tired,” you say. “Why would you of all people want to be reminded of what happened?”

He swallows thickly. You can tell that he isn’t too fond of the idea, even if what you’re proposing gives him a way out. It lets him off the hook. But for some reason, he’s hesitant to take it, might be resisting it even. You can’t bring yourself to understand why, but eventually, he says, “Okay. If that’s what you really want.”

He doesn’t put up much of a fight, though it doesn’t exactly sound like an affirmation, but who even cares?

“Right, then,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt and gripping the strap of your bag. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

He says it back, and lets you go with a strained smile.

Yoongi’s fingers tap on his knees to the beat of the music playing in the background. You were surprised when he called you on a Saturday, asking if you were free, telling you that he had something to say. You didn’t have any plans and Yoongi said he was treating you, and well, you don’t need to be convinced further.

Here you are, in a fancy restaurant, sharing a tiramisu with Min Yoongi. How nice. You thought he’d have better plans than just hanging out with little old you.

“Will you please just tell me now?” you say, looking at him with playful puppy dog eyes. You take another bite of the dessert, and practically have to stifle a moan when the sweetness melts in your mouth. You honestly think you have romantic feelings for this tiramisu. “I’ve been waiting for like two hours.” 

Yoongi swirls the wine in his glass before he brings it to his lips and takes a sip, all the while looking at you, so happy with the treat that you’re supposed to share but he doesn’t even touch. When he sets his glass down, he calls your name, making you glance up. 

“Do you still… y’know… Jungkook?”

You stare at him back, confused. “Do I still I know Jungkook?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me spell it out. You’ll just beat me if I say it.”

“Oh, so it’s something annoying then? Then please, keep it to yourself.”

“Okay, then,” he says, smiling so obnoxiously because he knows you’re too curious.

Give it a minute.

“Oh my god, fine,” you give up, drawing out the sentence exasperatedly. “Do I still what Jungkook?”

Yoongi regards your face teasingly. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

Your entire body goes rigid. You don’t even try to hide the way your face falls upon hearing his question. What’s the point? He’ll just see right through you anyway.

“You took me out to dinner just to ask me that?”

He nods. “Yeah, among other things.”

“I mean…” You set down your spoon. No one has ever asked you that before, and it’s not a question that you yourself have considered. Jungkook still affects you, that much is clear. Thinking about your relationship still affects you. Does that mean that you have lingering feelings for him? You’ve yet to solve this, and truth be told, you aren’t sure if you would like the conclusion it leads you to. You give Yoongi a vague answer, because even you yourself don’t know what the truth is. But it doesn’t matter, now that you’ve made the active decision to let it all go. “I’m trying to move on.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t seem very satisfied with your choice of words. “Do you still hate him then?”

This, you don’t really need to ruminate much on. “I think part of me will always hate him for what he did.” And part of you will always love him in spite of what he did.

Yoongi leans forward with both of his arms on the table, contemplating how he should word this. You deserve flowery words and romantic grand gestures, but alas Yoongi is blunt, and sometimes rough around the edges. He has great timing too. Just as you raise a glass of water to your mouth to soothe your dry throat, he says, “Let me be your revenge dick.”

It makes you choke, sending water down every wrong pipe as you cough harshly. It dribbles down your chin and a few drops plop! onto your light wash jeans. You’re glad it wasn’t wine. You would’ve killed him if he made you stain your newly bought trousers. While you try to hold onto dear life, he has the audacity to fucking laugh. When you kick his shin under the table, he hands you a few napkins. It takes you another minute to calm down.

“What the actual fuck?” you hiss. The little “incident” earns you a few weird looks from people sitting nearby. It’s so embarrassing, but Yoongi is acting like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen.

“Let me be your revenge d–”

“I heard you the first time, Jesus Christ. Please don’t say the word “dick” to me ever again. In fact, please stop talking altogether. Please don’t open your mouth ever again.”

He does not abide by your request, opening his stupid mouth again and thus cementing his place as your least favorite person in the entire world right this minute. You lost half your brain cells listening to that one singular sentence. Jesus fucking God. Who in their right mind would utter something like that? And to you, no less? Fuck. Men.

One of these days, you swear you will pop an aneurysm. It’s so ridiculous that it’s not even funny. But Yoongi just keeps talking like you’re asking him to elaborate.

“What I’m saying is… use me.”

“For what?” You’re genuinely so perplexed as to what the point of this conversation is, or where it’s even going. This man has a way of surprising you more and more each day.

“For revenge dicking purposes.”

You do your best to suppress a shudder. Where did that term even come from? “Oh my god, why do you keep saying that? We’re in public! What if someone hears you?!” 

The man sitting across from you grins, showcasing his pearly whites, clearly very amused by your reactions. “You gotta show Jungkook what he’s missing. Make him regret it.”

“Min Yoongi,” you say slowly. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been this serious,” Yoongi answers. “Let me be your arm candy. I’m very good at that.” You’re very curious about who raised him and how he turned out to be this way. You can’t believe you have to tolerate him sometimes.

You give it another minute before you say, “I’ll have you know that Jungkook and I had a very productive talk. We’re in a much better place now, so your… whatever services won’t be necessary.”

He leans back, eases up, and stares at you thoughtfully. Like he doesn’t really believe you. Like the cogs of his mind are once again turning. “Okay, that’s even better. I don’t have to be the rebound. I can just be your main piece.”

Looking at him pleadingly, you bemoan, “Yoongi, why are you doing this to me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“It absolutely is not obvious!”

“Seriously?”

You cross your arms, raising an annoyed eyebrow at the man. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of people you’re hanging out with, but my friends don’t go around offering to–”

“Because I like you.”

You could practically facepalm. As he stares at you, not even blinking anymore, you reach for the salt shaker on the table to pour some onto your hand. When he opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing, you flick the miniscule white crystals in his direction. 

“Wha–”

“Yoongi, I can’t believe you wasted a whole evening for that lame ass joke.”

“Did you really just…” He throws his head back, laughing in both disbelief and amusement. “Wow. You tell a girl you like her and she throws salt at you. That’s definitely a first for me.”

“It’s not funny. Stop saying that.”

“Stop saying what?”

“Stop saying you like me!”

“But I do like you,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ve always liked you.”

You mentally groan, sucking your teeth before you reach for the salt again. He grabs your wrist before you could hold it up. 

“Quit it and listen to me. I’m serious.”

When you look at Yoongi, he’s wearing an expression you don’t think you’ve often seen, or ever seen before. There’s no trace of that familiar teasing smile that’s almost always on his lips, nor the mischievous glint in his eyes that he usually sports. This side of Yoongi is new to you. This side of Yoongi makes you hold your breath for some reason.

For a second there, you believe what he’s saying.

“Come on. You’re taking this too far.”

“Why do you keep thinking this is a joke? You know I would never do that, Y/N.”

You pull your hand back to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Because you keep using me to mess with Jungkook even though I’ve asked you multiple times to–”

“Can you not mention his name?” Yoongi straightens in his chair. This is the closest he’s ever come to being annoyed with you. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel and you’re thinking about Jungkook.”

You liked it better when he was cocky about it.

“You can’t possibly be serious right now.”

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes telling you that he’s irritated with you too, only he’s much better at containing his frustration. You both stare at each other for god knows how long because neither one of you understands what the other is trying to say.

When Yoongi speaks next, his voice is so calm, so low that it makes your spine run cold.

“You were always so oblivious.”

“Oh my god, pick up, pick up, pick up,” you mutter to yourself like a deranged person on the sidewalk, telepathically urging Taehyung to answer the phone before you’ve even called him. His phone filters through your speaker after the third ring. Kim Taehyung, always so quick to answer your calls.

“What’s u–”

“Oh my god, Kim Taehyung, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you will not believe what just happened,” you rush out in one breath. “Where are you? Are you at home? I’ll come to you. Oh my god!”

“Jesus, did you mix coffee with Red Bull again? Slow down,” Taehyung says. “I’m at Jimin’s now.”

“Oh? Okay.” This is even better. Jimin’s apartment is much closer to the restaurant than Taehyung’s place is. “Is it boys’ night? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter. I’ll come over right now. Be there in 15!”

“What? Wait, Y/N, no, Ju–!”

You hang up before he can say anything else. You bounce on your heels as you flag down a cab, so awfully restless and you just want to tell someone. On the ride over, the driver keeps glancing at you through the rearview mirror every few seconds; your nervous energy must have infected him because you look like you just found out that someone is freaking dying. When you arrive at your destination, you take a deep breath before you hurry up the stairs. Jimin’s building is old and has no elevator, which normally sucks because he lives on the fifth floor and you absolutely despise stairs. But right now, you have so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that five flights feel like a piece of cake.

You have no doubt that the men inside know it’s you from the way you ring his doorbell repeatedly. Jimin opens the door with an exasperated look, to which you pay no mind and just press a quick kiss against his cheek in greeting before you barge into his home in search of Taehyung.

“Kim Taehyung! Where are you? This is an emergency, I need y–!”

When you do find him, however, he isn’t alone. Sitting next to Taehyung on the couch and holding a bottle of beer to his lips, is none other than Jungkook. You all look at each other awkwardly as the words die on your tongue, killing some of the nerves while you bite your lip to keep your mouth shut. Jimin waddles into the living room after he shuts down the door and plops down next to Jungkook. Now there are three pairs of eyes on you.

“Oh, uhm, hi,” you say to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Hi,” he says, and offers you a beer on the table. “Want one?”

What you said to Yoongi at dinner wasn’t exactly untrue. You and Jungkook are kind of in a better place now. In the last few days, since you had your little chat in his car, he’s let up on the crap that he was pulling before. Something still feels off to you though. Feels like his head isn’t really in it, that he’s still doing this for the sake of trying to ease his guilt by going along with what he thinks makes you happy. Whatever. It’s at least a little progress, you suppose.

“No, that’s fine.” You wave Jungkook off before inching closer to Taehyung and pulling him up by the arm. “Uhm, I just needed to talk to Tae and I’ll be on my way!”

You drag your friend into the guest bedroom that Jimin has recently turned into an office, all the while ignoring his shout of “This better be good! Don’t forget to tell me later!” as you shut the door.

You glare at Taehyung. “Okay, why didn’t you tell me that Jungkook was here?”

“I tried to!” He raises his hands in surrender. “You hung up on me. I texted you about it.”

You rummage through your bag for the phone that you so hastily shoved in there before getting into the taxi. The notification on your screen glares back at you.

[21:42] Taebear 🐻: jungkook is here btw. dunno if you’re cool with that

“Right…” you mutter. “My bad.”

“Well?” Taehyung prompts, then his face turns worried as he gives you a once-over. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

You inhale deeply, holding onto his wrists and staring him dead in the eye. Even with the door closed and with Jungkook and Jimin all the way in the living room, you keep your voice low. “I think I just got propositioned.”

Your friend blinks slowly, or rather, he closes his eyes for five whole seconds before he opens them. Taehyung visibly relaxes when he comprehends that you are, in fact, okay and healthy, and that you’re just being overly dramatic.

He pushes your hands away. “Fuck off. I thought something bad happened.”

“Something bad did happen!”

“You are literally the worst person.”

“I’m serious!”

He groans and looks at you like a disappointed parent. “Fine,” he relents, “what happened?”

“I think Yoongi sort of pimped himself out to me today.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, closes it, and does it again a few times. “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

“He said he likes me.”

There comes that slow-ass, neverending blink again. Taehyung looks like the meme, like he’s seeing the world in nothing but equations.

“I fail to see how that would be considered pimping oneself out.”

“Well, you have to hear what he said after–”

A mop of fluffy blond hair materializes out of thin air, startling you both. You didn’t even hear him come in. That sneaky little thing. “What are we talking about?” Jimin asks, lowering his volume to match yours. “Why are we whispering?”

“Why are you here?” You look behind him at the door that he left ajar. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s in the living room.”

“By himself?”

“Well, there’s no one else here, so duh.”

You exhale exasperatedly. “Now it’s gonna look like we’re talking about him.”

“Aren’t we?”

“We’re talking about Yoongi,” Taehyung says, casting his eyes to the ground briefly.

“Yoongi?” Jimin asks, glancing between you and Taehyung with a slight frown. “Your Yoongi?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you mean my Yoongi? There’s only one Yoongi. He’s the Yoongi.”

“Okay. So what’s up with the Yoongi?”

Taehyung turns to his wonder twin with an unamused look. “She’s doing that annoying thing where she gives you a single detail of the story and you have to ask her to keep going every time.”

Blondie makes a face. “Oof, yeah, that’s annoying. Don’t do that.”

You gape at the two of them. “I’m giving you tea and you’re complaining about my storytelling skills?”

You should’ve expected it, should’ve known what was coming the second that question left your mouth. The guys don’t even need to look at each other to be in sync when they echo, “Yes.”

“But seriously,” Jimin says, “what about Yoongi?”

“We went to dinner tonight and he… said he likes me…” you tell him, and physically recoil at the memory. Oh… the horror. “And he said, oh my god I can’t even repeat it without wanting to jump off a bridge, he said to let him be my revenge dick.”

Jimin gasps. Taehyung chokes on his own spit. They both sputter out, “What the fuck?”

“Right?!” you cry, still so fucking mortified by the experience. “I almost died just sitting there. I can’t believe he made me listen to that with my own two ears.”

Taehyung is the first one to turn serious. “What happened after that though?” You don’t know what you would do sometimes if there wasn’t a Kim Taehyung to ground you.

“Well, I came here.”

“So…” he drags out the single word, “you ran away from him?”

Jimin looks at you expectantly too, wearing the same question in his eyes. You frown at them. “What? No. I threw salt on him and told him to stop fucking around and then I lef– Oh my god, I did run away.”

Shit.

Shit.

“Hold up, what the fuck,” Jimin cackles, like this is all just so funny. “You threw salt on him?”

You let out a nervous laugh, and point finger guns at your friends idiotically. “But it’s fine. Because obviously he didn’t mean it.”

“Why would you think he didn’t mean it?” Taehyung asks.

“He’s an annoying little shit sometimes! And,” you keep your volume under control again, “he hates Jungkook. He’s only doing it to piss him off.”

Taehyung purses his lips, regards you with a look you don’t like because you’re trying to sort through this logically, convince yourself that it isn’t real and that Yoongi is just missing April Fool’s day by four whole months. Why is your friend making this more difficult?

“Is it so hard to believe that someone can like you?”

“Yes,” you say seriously, “when that person is Yoongi.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Yoongi!” You throw your hands up. “He’s not like us.”

“I hate to break it to you, but celebrities aren’t above having crushes.”

You look at Jimin for help, but he just shrugs, choosing silence as the neutral option or maybe staying silent is just his way of agreeing with Taehyung. This isn’t the reaction you expected when you rushed here to give him the goss. Taehyung doesn’t blindly support your every decision or try to rationalize your every move just because he’s your friend. He tells you to your face when you’re being absurd, so you really don’t get why he’s the one being unreasonable right now.

“Oh my god, please,” you say. “Yoongi absolutely does not have a crush on me.”

Jimin chimes in. “Well, he did literally just admit that to you.”

You send him a glare that says, Oh, so now you’re talking?

You turn to Taehyung again. You can’t believe this is happening. Are you two really arguing? About whether or not Yoongi actually likes you? While Jungkook is sitting by himself in another room? You bet nobody has this on their bingo card.

“I told you. He’s just trying to fuck with Jungkook.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Why do you think he’s trying to fuck with Jungkook?” Taehyung challenges.

“Because he’s my friend!” you groan. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, but no one seems to believe that Yoongi is just your friend. “You’re my friend too. But you’re being so fucking annoying now.”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if to prove a point. “Yoongi is that good of a friend that he would go out of his way to mess with someone he hadn’t even met until a couple weeks ago?”

“I– well– maybe!” you stammer, blinking up at him. The height difference is clearly not doing you any good. “He’s a very petty person. And when he isn’t being a little shit, he can be a very good friend.”

Taehyung scoffs, seriously getting on your nerves. It isn’t even any of his business. You just wanted to tell him for the sake of sharing with your best friend, not ask for his opinion on any of it. He doesn’t even know Yoongi, never even met him.

“I know what people are like when they’re in love with you,” Taehyung mutters, eyeing the ground. Jimin makes a noise and nudges his friend in the rib, shaking his head while he does so.

 You, petty little you, want to fire back. “Oh, so Yoongi is in love with me now?”

Taehyung opens his mouth, prepared to continue his assault on your sanity when Jimin has to step in, waving his hands in front of you both. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says. “Why don’t we just call it a night and let’s reconvene when everybody is thinking straight, yeah?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look at you. You try to release your frustrations through a loud exhale, but it doesn’t do much. When all of you venture out into the living room to leave, you remember that Jungkook is still here. He looks at yours and Taehyung’s disgruntled expressions, then at Jimin’s face as he not-so-subtly shakes his head, silently telling him to not ask any questions. Poor guy, this was boys’ night after all. You couldn’t have spent more than 30 minutes in Jimin’s office. He was just quietly drinking his beer and watching TV out here, unaware of everything going on in the room just down the hall. Now everybody seems pissed and the night is spoiled.

You bid Jungkook and Jimin a curt goodnight before you head for the door, saying nothing to Taehyung because he clearly doesn’t deserve any pleasantries after tonight. You end up going home with more questions than answers.

You hate this. You hate it so much.

Now that you’re finally starting to actually coexist with Jungkook – of all people! – the other men in your life have to come for your head?

You haven’t spoken to Taehyung since that night, which was only three days ago, but still. It’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to your best friend. You don’t know what was up his ass, and Jimin has just been telling you to not overthink it, that Taehyung will reach out when he’s calmed down. It makes zero sense to you, because how does your situation affect him in any way? What does he even have to calm down from?

With Yoongi, on the other hand… Well, you’re still convinced that he was just being good old insufferable Yoongi. This is how he has always been – teasing, easy going, and has a good rapport with you. That night was just a fluke. Maybe he had too much to drink and didn’t know when to stop the joke from getting too carried away.

You are not fighting with Yoongi. You are not fighting with Yoongi. You remind yourself of this, so that when you see him in the studio next, everything is okay.

Yoongi arrives some time after lunch and brings everybody coffee. You expect him to be lighthearted as always, which he is, and you expect him to sit next to you as always, which he does. He laughs with Seokjin, chats with Namjoon about the art scene, pokes “friendly” fun at Jungkook every now and then. You two work side by side, bouncing ideas off each other like you normally do. He doesn’t mention the dinner, which makes you feel a whole lot better about that night because see? Everything is fine. If everything is fine with Yoongi then everything is fine with Taehyung too.

Some time around 5pm, Yoongi asks if you should all go out for drinks tonight. He gets shot down by the guys though. Apparently no one is up for after-work drinks on a Tuesday night.

“You’re no fun,” Yoongi grumbles before turning to you with hopeful eyes. “Y/N?” he whines, “Indulge me like you usually do, please?”

“No, thanks,” you decline. You glance up in time to see Jungkook quietly chuckling to himself. “Today is my self-care day.”

“Tuesday is your self-care day?”

“Because tomorrow is Wednesday. I have a pre-Wednesday routine.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re very weird about Wednesdays?” Seokjin asks.

You hum in thought for a moment before answering him. “You did. And then you told me a really bad dad joke.”

He makes an exasperated Ahh noise as he recalls the very moment, then blasts his booming windshield wiper laugh when he remembers the joke he made. “Hey, that joke was killer!”

“It absolutely was not! The only decent one that I’ve heard from you is–”

“No, no, hey,” Yoongi cuts in, “don’t entertain him and his stupid jokes. Come onnn, you know I hate drinking alone. Go for a drink with me, princess. You used to be my drinking buddy all the time.”

“Uh huh,” you scoff. “And look where drinking with you got me.”

“I allow fraternizing in the workplace as long as I’m still the priority, guys,” Seokjin chirps in. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you say quickly. “No one is fraternizing with anybody!”

Yoongi hums quietly. He drops his volume, just for your ears. “No? Is that your answer then?”

“What?” you whisper. You don’t know why you’re whispering. You just do it because Yoongi is doing it.

“You kinda ran out on me the other night.”

“I didn’t–”

He gives you a look.

“Okay, maybe I did… but only because you were being ridiculous!”

Yoongi licks his lips and tips his head toward the door. He’s the first one to stand up and head out of the room, followed by you half a minute later. You appreciate him wanting some privacy for you two to talk, but you don’t like that this is a conversation that needs privacy. You were all just joking around in there. If this is still a joke, why is he leading you out here?

Walking out the door, you hear Seokjin call after you, “Fraternizing!”

“That is not what’s happening!”

You find Yoongi in the empty breakroom, leaning against a counter.

“You can drop it now, Yoongi,” you say.

“What?” he tilts his head, looking at you curiously. “You still think I’m messing around?”

“Obviously.”

“Why is that?” he asks. “What makes that so hard to believe?”

It’s what Taehyung asked you the other night too.

Because you’re you! is what you almost say. It’s the same answer you gave Taehyung, because, well, do you even need another explanation? You don’t tell him that though, thinking it might offend him somehow. Instead, you throw him a question.

“Okay. Sure. Let’s say that you are serious. What happened? When did you even start liking me? Why are you telling me now?”

Yoongi exhales gently, straightening up to walk closer to where you are. He stops when he’s right in front of you, looking right into your eyes and using the same voice he did that night. “I always liked you. I liked you last year when we first worked together and I like you now. The only difference is then, you weren’t trying to move on,” he says, so unwavering that it makes you stagger.

That… is not what you were expecting. You blink up as he smiles down at you fondly. You feel lightheaded. Maybe even scared, because what if he means it? He sounds too sincere for it to just be all fun and games. You remember the way he held your hand when he made you put on that stupid fancy lotion.

His voice keeps lowering, and you hate that it makes you nervous. Your stomach twists, your heart pounds against your ribs.

“If you’re moving on now, can’t you do it with me?”

Looking back now, were there signs that you should have noticed?

You stand there, processing, not knowing what you should say to him, not really even breathing anymore. Yoongi must interpret your silence as realization, recognition, because he chuckles, again amused by your reaction.

“Yoongi…”

He stops you, though you weren’t going to say anything else. You feel like you could cry. Maybe he sees it in your eyes. Yoongi pats your arm gently, still smiling. “I’ll let you sleep on it, princess.”

When he leaves the room, you keep standing there by yourself. So Taehyung was right? Your friend who has never had a single interaction with Yoongi, who has only heard about him from the stories you shared, could tell that there was something there? That Yoongi had feelings for you all along?

At the dinner, Yoongi said you were always oblivious.

Is it possible that you really had no idea, or did you just force yourself to look the other way?

That night, was he hurt? After you repeatedly dismissed him and eventually walked out?

Oh, Yoongi…

When someone enters the room after you’ve been standing here for what feels like forever, navigating the sea of your own thoughts, you startle to life.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, eyeing you as he goes to fix himself a cup of coffee.

“Yep, mhmm,” you respond. You try to shove away all of your unraveling emotions. They could wait until later.

You have no idea why you’re still standing here, watching Jungkook make coffee with his back to you, but that’s arguably a better idea right now than to go back to the studio where Yoongi is. 

“You know,” Jungkook starts, pressing the buttons on the fancy coffee machine that you don’t know how to use. “I don’t think it’s very professional. Y’know, Yoongi flirting with you all the time.”

You stare at his broad shoulders with your brows furrowed, already on edge even though you don’t know what he’s referring to.

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s professional,” he repeats. “Yoongi flirting with you all the time.”

“When has Yoongi ever flirted with me?” you ask. It’s meant to sound sarcastic and defensive, hoping he’ll take the hint to back off but really, now that you’ve said it, it’s a question that you yourself would genuinely like the answer to.

“Admit it,” Jungkook says, turning around to face you. “It’s not like he tries to be very subtle about it. All the nicknames, always complimenting you, even when he put his hands all over you the other day right in front of us! There’s no way that you’ve missed the way he looks at you sometimes.”

You blink a few times, not sure if you heard him right. You hope your brief silence gives him a chance to backtrack when he sees how offended you are, but he just stares at you. Jungkook really does have the worst timing, and it doesn’t take long for your anger to overflow. Moving forward together in peace lasted a whole week, huh?

“Even if Yoongi is flirting with me, how is it any of your business?”

“It kinda is my business, though, isn’t it? Considering he does it at my place of work.”

Oh, he’s gotta be kidding. 

“Okay, it’s your place of work,” you hiss. The steam rising from his fresh mug of coffee might as well resemble the cartoon-like smoke churning from the top of your head. Jungkook seems taken aback by your reaction, but honestly, what the hell did he even expect when he said something like that to you? “So you fucking the receptionist must be so professional, right?”

Paling about a hundred shades, he looks like you just poured a bucket of ice cold water over his head. The gulping throat, the parting lips, the guilty eyes and his whole demeanor exuding shock and embarrassment, because Jungkook didn’t know that you knew, let alone foresee that you would throw it in his face. He stands there, dumbfoundedly muttering, “How– Who told you about that?”

You ignore his question. Why does it even matter who told you? If you were less angry, you would be more curious as to how he thought this was going to go. Why would he say something like that out of nowhere? 

He said he deserved your rage? He wanted you to be mad? Fine. Be careful what you wish for.

You feel sick to your stomach and he would come to you and say shit like that. Like Jungkook can dictate anything about your life. Like he has the right to fuck things up and leave when he’s had his fun.

Your sinuses burn when you speak next. “You don’t see me running to you, whining about how Jihyo always looks at me like she wants to gouge my fucking eyes out. How she’s always so nice and bubbly to everyone but then when it’s me, she acts like I ran over her fucking dog.”

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting this reaction.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“No, just save it. You talk a big game about trying to do right by me and then you go and say shit like this. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m so fucking tired.”

People often say that you should never make decisions when you’re angry. No one wants to end up regretting something they said or did in the heat of the moment. You’ve always thought that this is good advice, and you always try to live by it because you know your temper can get the best of you sometimes.

The keyword here, though, is try.

You run a hand through your hair, feeling infuriated at this point because Jungkook keeps fucking explaining himself, even though he’s the one who started this whole thing. You can’t even properly hear what he’s saying, all of his words going into one ear and out the other. Something about it not meaning anything and ending it with her months ago. 

You take a deep breath and look into his panicked eyes.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

You think he’s apologizing again, from the way his lips form the words I’m sorry, but your pulse is ringing so loud in your ears that you don’t really catch the sounds. The anger inside of you still simmers despite having spilled over. Your face is so eerily calm that you hope it scares him. When you turn on your heels to leave, you know he’s following you back to the studio. You sit back down beside Yoongi but you don’t meet his eyes. You keep your gaze trained on the open notebook, nursing that anger.

You should’ve known that there’s no moving forward with Jungkook. If anything, he just wants to tie you to the past and never let you leave. Is he that immature, that selfish that even after all this time, after what he did, he can’t stand the idea of you and someone else?

You briefly make eye contact with Jungkook from across the room before you turn to Yoongi, your voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“On second thought, that drink does sound nice,” you tell him with a smile. “Pick me up at 9?”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted december 31, 2022]

[thoughtsandbones]

Ongoing series:

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

It's been a long time

"Imagine they're just about freezing right now..."

Something familiar is in the air

A not so forgotten history

All wounds take time to heal

Our fellow hidden humorous

Take your time, then take your shot

If eyes could kill

Revelations and Misconceptions

It all catches up with you

Time for Tea?

Bubbling to the surface, slowly but surely

An ex-citing surprise

Uncertainty comes between us

Within the field of danger

The flesh you thread between my blood and bones slows down the pendulum of death

The dots that begin to align

Doth thy demons dwelleth in the darkness too, my belov'd Reaper?

Kyle 'Gaz" Garrick x F! Black OC (Clarissa Edwards)

The way you ease my trepidation

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Between your hands, I open

Beneath the stars, wonder consumes us

A cranium full of tea and coffee

Happy Reading Folks! :D

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

Explaining my most recent OCs part 5 (the final part): dot (full name: dothelhin the all-powerful)

Dot was born in the deep cosmos of space as an eldritch creature; as they grew and learned how to control their powers, they developed an interest in horror and all things macabre which soon turned to them essentially making it their whole brand. Dot especially got a kick out of possessing various pieces of fiction and scaring mortals by doing so. One day in the mid 2000's they found an arcade in ohio and saw it as a perfect oppertunity to give some good scares, while there they met pixel: a ghost who haunts the arcade and poly: a robotic creature of unknown origin, dot befriended the two creatures and decided to live at the arcade with them

While dot is roughly estimated to be thousands of years old, they behave a LOT like a high school freshman in the sense that they're extremely overdramatic and loud-mouthed with the teenage angst to boot! I even imagine their theme song is the dotEXE remix of monster by meg and dia....y'know, to REALLY push that early gen Z fandom culture feel!

Like their ref sheet shows: dot is able to create portals and open pocket dimensions. One of said pocket dimensions is made to look like an emo kid's bedroom and when dot is feeling REALLY emotional, they go there to calm down (plus it's really funny to imagine them throwing a bitchfit and instead of stomping up to their room and slamming the door they just REALLY aggressively open a pocket dimension and slam the opening)

Dot is also REALLY into blogging, they often talk about their time in the arcade and the kind of pranks they pull but nobody actually believes any of it to be real and just think that dot's blog is some kind of horror art project or even an ARG!

Just like pixel, dot LOVES pulling pranks and causing mischief! Though much to pixel's dismay, dot is a lot more cruel with them than she is so they have a sort of friendly rivalry going on. On the flipside, dot has a sort of "mordecai and rigby" esque friendship with poly and they often call him "big P" as a nickname.

[ohtobeleah]

Terms of Endearment // Jake Seresin

Summary: They always say when you aren’t looking for love it tends to find you. So when Amilia Fisher comes barrelling into Jakes life when he least expected to fall in love—you bet your ass there’ll be trials and tribulations. 

Warnings: Jake Seresin x OC Amilia Fisher. Angst, fluff, smut. Mentions of infertility. Dumb!Jake. Independent! OC. (Australian) <- warning in and of itself.

~ Terms of Endearment Main Masterlist ~

My Nightmares & You // Jake is struggling with a reoccurring nightmare after the death of Bob Floyd. Amilia makes it so that Jake shouldn’t ever have to feel alone. Helping to release the stigma he so desperately wanted to shake.

Flowers // Goodness Gracious Great Balls Of Fire, Jake Seresin is in love. And he finally knows it.

-> The Vegas Wedding Concept

-> Ellie Nuke Fielding / The Ex Mrs & the Mrs

The Moving Car Theory // Sometimes your best just isn’t enough, and for Jake just loving Amilia isn’t all it will take to keep her from leaving.

Tattoos & Broken Hearts // Jake shows up in Australia at Amilias work it doesn’t go how he thought it would.

No Love Left To Lose // Amilia Fisher left America & Took Jakes heart with her. Now he’s on a mission to get it back along with the love of his life.

Running Interference // Amilias flatmate is on the defensive. She’s not giving Jake any wiggle room.

-> Ricardo’s Tomatoes: Jake & Amilia take the Bradshaw bunch to a strawberry patch.

-> The 1992 Holden Rodeo Ute: Jake loves his wife, he loves his sister, but he loves how beaten up Ute just a little more than he should.

-> Dot gets her first period: Jake freaks the fuck out in true uncle style when he’s faced with his nieces first period

-> Inked up & in love // Amilia has a H_ngm_n tattoo on her hip and Jake has a little Oz on his tricep. But they both have each others names inked permanently into each others hearts.

-> The one where Jakes making heart eyes: Amilia makes a technique Tiktok for her work. Everyone is focused on the guy in the background moreso than her.

-> A brother like no other // You pick Jake up from the airport after his extended stay in Australia

-> Goodbye, Goodbye // Jake & Amilia have been trying for a year, when they do fall pregnant it leads to a much bigger discovery and an even bigger heart heartbreak.