#task 02. first three texts

[faantasm]

⁀➴ task 02. first three texts

"If I get out of this, I'm making it my personal mission to destroy all flip phones." Archer whispered to herself vindictively, a deep frown etched into her features. "How do people live like this?" With thumbs that ached a little more with each text, Archer carefully typed one message after another.

[Message Sent To: Daddy Dearest (aka Casimir Drake)]

My phone was confiscated. Please wipe it ASAP. It started raining and I got a little wet. The forecast calls for more storms but no need to worry. I remembered my umbrella.

[Message Sent To: Batman But Cooler (aka Karuna) @wrathconsumed]

thnk i fnd smth. cn i cm ovr?

[Message Sent To: The People's Princess (aka Odelia) @ciirccee]

hate ths apt. cnt sleep. slmbr prty w th girls mb? wdyt?

[lazylattedgleam]

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LOST AMONG THE PAGES

(A Zayne x NONMC!Reader fic)

(Word count: ~3.4k)

(Credits: All images from the net. Except for the color editing and brush strokes and writing are made by me.)

(Credits: Pinterest)

*TW: Angst, maybe not well written, NON!MC Reader, Reader has Anemia, heavy blood loss during periods, fights, shouting, feeling of betrayal and heartbreak, shaking, crying, unrequited love.

*Index: Reader speeches are white, bold and italicised.

Zayne speeches are blue, bold and italicised.

MC speeches are pink, bold and italicised.

Others are white and just italicised.

Thoughts are written inside single inverted commas and italicised, sometimes struck through.

Texts and chats have ‘Indented’ font.

Calls have double inverted commas, white and italicised. They are differentiated from other speeches. (Except for main characters like MC and Zayne, they will follow their color code as mentioned earlier and italicised.)

Actions are written inside asterisks, white and bold.

Diary entries have ‘Chat’ font.

If you’re uncomfortable with the following genre or any of the trigger warnings, then please don’t read ahead.

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“His love for her was as pure as the flower Jasmine herself…”

Memoir: Three. Ending

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(Credits: The Feels)

Time…12:23 a.m.

Date: 06/XX/2048

Day: Saturday

Dear diary,

I rarely do write these days, my mind is too much consumed by the void of my thoughts and feelings…my thoughts filled with them..them and them…work has been fine, sales going good, yet everything feels too gloomy…I do make him lunch everyday, barring the days they go out to eat, it hasn’t increased, but my soul feels like it did…we don’t text much, just few ‘Hi’ and ‘Hellos’, here and there…and sometimes he checks up on me over text or call…I think Zayne too has figured out I’m in need of space maybe that’s why he hasn’t once visited me in over two weeks…Although I look at their Moments posts, I didn’t know Zayne had that app…they seem happy, just like their pictures do…

Yesterday was at the park…

Few days ago at Destiny Cafe…

Couple days before that by the Lakeside…

Azure Square…

My eyes hurt watching them…it feels like I’m developing a new variant of iritis…

Fun fact: he fails to tell me that he’s going out, everytime…either I get to know it from Yvonne, or MC, or from the Moments posts…So I’ve stopped caring the need to know…if they tell me, I just hum along and let go.

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Time…02:38 a.m.

Date: 13/XX/2048

Day: Friday

Dear diary,

I don’t feel like writing anymore, not even twice in two weeks…what happened to me? He rarely calls, all I get are mostly texts, that is also if I’m lucky enough…I’m dying to talk to him, would he even remember it’s our anniversary next week? Or maybe they have plans…

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(Credits: The Feels)

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PRESENTLY:

Next week arrives way quicker than I ever wanted it to, every day feels like a blur recently, like I can barely remember the tasks I’ve performed…It’s our anniversary day…I will go to the hospital and drop off a flower bouquet to him in his office…

…I had a special lunch prepared for him,

‘Dice beef, rice, roast meat sauce, broccoli and white broccoli, crispy fried shredded onions, and tamagoyaki’, I’d learnt during the early stages of our relationship. It was always my plan to make our first anniversary very special, filling him with surprises…I place a six packed box of coconut macarons on the side each had a tiny milk chocolate snowman on them: orange juice, and like usual a handwritten note…within a heart shaped card. I then head out to our shop, picking out a freshly custom made jasmine-bouquet, as I add a card to it, ‘Happy 1st Year’, maybe if I wasn’t dull from the inside I’d have been more creative…

“Soooo a whole year huh?” “Mhm”, I smile softly as I pay after I was done.

…Upon reaching the hospital I was immediately greeted by Yvonne and Dr. Greyson. “Happy 1 year anniversary! Congratulations to the both of you!”, she says excitedly, hugging me. I hug back. “Congratulations”, Dr. Greyson nods as I smile at both of them, “Thank you very much you two.” “Dr. Zayne is free right now, plus it is lunch time so yeah.” “Thanks a lot Y, I’ll be off then.” “Okay! Do tell me your plans for tonight later!” “Will do!”.

Taking a deep breath in I knock on his door… “Come in”, I hear his voice, it sounded softer than usual…could he have been expecting me? I take a deep breath in as I walk inside…

“Happy 1 year (Name)!”…of course she is here…I regain my posture as I smile at her, it’s forced… “Thank you very much.” “I’ve been so excited for today, I mean Zayne, a year with someone! Now that’s a milestone!”, she jokes and laughs… “oh! I’ll go out now, you two talk…do tell me your plans for the night later bye guys!”, as she leaves…

I feel a strange sense of satisfaction and comfort at that…but the main thing still remains…Zayne…it’s been very awkward over these weeks, and ever since all that happened…I don’t know how to approach him…

I take in a breath as I walk to his table, handing out the bouquet to him…as I placed the lunch box on his table, I smile… “Happy Anniversary…”, I want to say more, pour out my heart but I don’t… He stares at the gift, soon opening his lunch, I could see a tiny glimmer in his eyes…I made him his favourite after all… “Thank you…”, he says with the similar softness he holds out for her…my heart skips a beat…but then again…it’s compulsion…

“Happy Anniversary…(Name)…”

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…Maybe I still have hopes and dreams…I reach his pace, my mind at a pseudo-peaceful state for the time being…I want tonight to be ours just ours…I want to make it perfect…so perfect perfect perfect…I work hard…pacing around his living room space decorating, minutely adjusting each and every piece, so that there remains no fault…

I fill the room with golden fairy lights, some over the front door, his bedroom and hung over the mould of the balcony. Next I decorate the gaps in between with small thick bunches of Jasmines, some beside the table and chairs too, arranged in a pattern…now all I need to do is wait for his arrival for the last minute touch ups…

…The clock strikes 11:00 p.m. The lights turned off, the room illuminated by the fairy lights. Keeping the balcony door open, as a gentle soft breeze came in through greeting my features…

I’m wearing my best dress for him…it was a navy blue tube top with intricate white snowfalls patterns delicately lacing around the waist and bust area—custom made…a silver necklace with an elegant cursive ‘Z’ locket, matching silver earrings and a bracelet—custom made…maroon lip gloss, mascara and my hair let down.

The door opens, as I catch a glance of him enter…he looks too good to be true…He stares for a while… “I’ll be out after changing…” “Will you want to have dinner first?” “Yes.”.

While he goes to freshen up, I prepare the table, placing neatly each item around the table…I had starters, main course, dessert and drinks. As I light up the candle placed at the centre of the table, making sure no wind blows it out, but thankfully luck was on my side, the wind was just a gentle summer breeze… Beside the candle was a bucket with ice and a bottle of champagne, now I know he’s a lightweight and he doesn’t prefer drinking…but it’s our anniversary, I want it to be the best…

He came out after a while wearing -his nightly rendezvous outfit-, my breath hitches…I want to compliment him but what if it becomes awkward…my gestures and thoughts went back to how it used to be like at the beginning of our relationship…maybe time is a loop…

As we sit down to eat, he gets my chair put like the gentleman he is and then himself sits…Having his favorite cuisine on the table, maybe I thought he’d smile…but he didn’t…

“Champagne?” “It’s our anniversary after all, a couple glasses wouldn’t hurt.”, I chuckle hoping he’d too…but he didn’t…

He’s sending me mixed signals…which I neither comprehend nor interpret…atleast he’s here…that’s all that matters now…a part of me couldn’t wait to write about tonight in my diary again…

…we eat quietly, not much words are uttered, except for the occasional, like for passing items or ‘the food is good.’, my mind wanders back to the times before her, as I analyse them, was he always cold to me too? I used to believe that was how he showed affection, was I wrong?

I pour myself a glass and drink it…he didn’t say anything…I was a lightweight too…but he didn’t know…and another…and another…and another…

My inhibitions lowered but I still had my senses to myself…placing the glass down, I chuckle a bit…

“Not even a ‘you look beautiful tonight’??? Dr. Zayne now that’s straight up meeeeeaaaannnn! *hic* I set up soooooo much ‘fff you, dressed up ffff youuuu, surprises surprises surprises! Even made and got your favorites! But nothinggggggg!”, I pout as I slur… “Whyyyy Zayne whyyyy is it because I’m not herrrrr???? I knowwww I’m not pretty like her orrrr successful like herrrrr or know you from Adam like her! But hell I’ve been good!! I’ve done so much for you! And you don’t even giveee me minimum gratitude! That’s meeeean”, I giggle as I pace around the room…

“Please sit down you’re drunk.” “Shhhhhhhhh I speak todayyyy, I’ve been holding backkkk for tooo longggg!”, I press my finger on his lips. “These are soooo soft and plum…I was anxious whether you’d at all kisssss me toniiiightttrr! How many timesss have we evennn kisssed in our relationship?? Even forehead and cheek kisses have ceased to exist…What haveee I done wrong Zaynie??? Alll I ever yearned for is you, your affectionnn and your loveee… you know my past, my desperations, my heart, then why…why…”, my voice cracks, my eyes filling with water, becoming hazy… “I *hic* gave you a Jasmine bouquet today…you didn’t say much…at least you accepted *I giggle* they’re your favoritessss I knowwwwwww…they symbolise purityyy, looove and afftection, did you know? Of course you did…that’s what I feel forrr yewwww!” I sloppily poke at his chest with my index finger…

“I’m barely drunk…did you know I was a lightweight…? Do you know my favorite flowers or my favorite colour! No you don’t! You barely ever ask! It’s always me me me! I think of you more often than I breathe! And you don’t—” “I want the old Zayne back…I saw how you watch her…how your eyes light up…how your face embraces colours…because those are all the ways I act around you! Have you ever noticed!?”, as I sob heavily…

He was left speechless, I could see his hands clench… “You’re so much wiser than me…tell me Zayne is it all in my head?? Do you never see how I always beg for footnotes in the story of your life?! Tell me…do you…only Tolerate Me…?”, my body begs to be wrapped up in his arms…but that is just wishful thinking…

As I was a mess on the floor, he was still there…I wanted to leave, I wanted to stay…I wanna walk but I can’t, my body is shaking convulsively…

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That was all I could remember, before I passed out…the next morning, I wake up in a comfortable bed…as my inhibitions come back to me…it’s his bed…

He was getting ready to go to the hospital, my head is a mess… “You should rest…I’ll get you some painkillers—” “You’re a wonderful man.”, as I get up on my own, barely…and go to the bathroom to wash up…my face is a mess, makeup all smudged together…eyes puffy and red…thank god I don’t have work today…

…I reach home, my head now better having taken the pain killers from before…I should just—

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

MC was calling…not now I can’t deal with it… especially not her of all people right now…so I put my phone on silent…although she keeps on calling for a few more times…I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t hold a grudge from last night, plus I was hurt and mad at him, I cannot deal with either of them now…

…I was about to take out my diary and write when I heard the buzz at the door. I groan as I walk over to open…MC…

“(Name)! Dear lord are you alright?! I called you so many times! I was worried sick!”

“I’m alright I just—”

“This is unexpected of you (Name)! How can you be so careless!? Do you know how worried I was?! How worried Zayne was!?”

That was it that was the last straw…it ticked me off fully…

“You weren’t worried about me when you took his heart away.”, I speak sharply.

“What…”

“No don’t you dare ‘what’ me! I’m tired of this hurting! Why weren’t you there when he was available when he was single! Why why why couldn’t you come then?! First of all you come into his life and he doesn’t even tell me! He tells me nothing about his childhood, and I was fine with that, it’s his privacy his choice! Then he doesn’t tell me he’s having dinner with you! I was fine with that too! Then he starts acting completely aloof! Like I don’t even exist! I’m his girlfriend dammit!”, tears prick my eyes again… “I don’t hate you MC I don’t! I think you’re a great girl and an amazing friend to both me and Zayne…but please understand…you’re so so so nice! You’re too great! You’re too amazing at everything you do! Heck you’re even more read that me! But how the hell are you are so dumb that you can’t realise the way he looks at you! He looks at you like you’re all he sees! Like you’re his elixir of life, his honey, his will to live in this messed up world, his one and only! Have you ever ever noticed that?! No right? But I have! And I’ve tried so hard to keep it in, blaming myself for overthinking but there’s a limit a limit to each one of us, and that threshold has been crossed! So please I beg you, please let my boyfriend stay mine, please just be his friend…please!”, I breathe heavily, my body shaking convulsively, as tears stream down…

She’s left speechless…just like he was last night. O could see the tears prick at her eyes too…

“I-I am sorry I never—”

“Please just please leave…”, she doesn’t speak another word and goes…

I heave a frustrated sigh…I’m too tired, I feel dizzy…

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…Later that night…

I wanted to write in my diary, but there was another buzz at the door…who’s it now…

I drag myself off the bed as I walk over then opening the door…Zayne…

He steps in, his presence carries a strong aura…he looks…his usual cold, stoic and…angry…?

“Why are you—”

“Who gave you the permission to talk to her like that?”, he utters with pure hatred in his voice…

I freeze at that…

“If that’s what you’re here for—”

“Answer.”

“Why should I Zayne? Am I answerable to you? Is it my compulsion?? But if I remember clearly you never answered to my texts whenever you’re with her. I said what I said because I’ve had enough. I put my phone on silent and she still didn’t get the hint, I had no other choice.”

“Then that’s your manners? That’s how you treat people who are genuinely worried about you and check up on you? She’s been nothing but nice to you.”

“Oh you wanna talk about manners now?! Let’s talk! Where were your manners when you didn’t even bother telling me you went out to dinner with her, or you were at the park with her, or when I poured my fucking heart out to you last night and got no fucking ass response?! Thanks for giving me the best fucking post-anniversary present by the way.”

“You’re still hung up on that.”

“Hung up?! Zayne hello? Do you need a brain doctor or another heart doctor to check if they’re functioning all well?! Do you not realise the pain, the hurt and the betrayal I went through?! Are you void of feelings for everyone except for her?! You make me wonder if you ever saw me as something valuable. I’m your fucking girlfriend Zayne! I hated having to hear from other people about my boyfriend because he wouldn’t tell me about his whereabouts! Do you know how embarrassing that feels?! Be glad they’re not gossipers or Dr. Zayne would’ve had quite the reputation by now.”, I scoff “and do you even know how many lies I have to tell often just to make you not seem like a cold hearted asshole?! But I guess for you you thought those were all my compulsions, just like yourself…I can’t believe I read into you this wrong…I’ve always cared for you, catered to your needs, tried to make myself perfect for you?! Heck I even greet you like a battle hero returning from a war, whenever you came home!! What have you done?! A nod, a word, rarely a kiss on the cheek and forehead!? Tell me Zayne, I asked you last night I’ll ask you again today! Was it all in my head? Were we a healthy couple only in my head?! Was it just me!! Or did she cast some love spell upon you and had you enamoured—”

“Watch your tone (Name)…you barely know about her…I’m her primary care physician and I know her the best, plus she’s always been with me since childhood, I cherish her…”

“Do you know how hard she works as a Hunter, wanderers everywhere…and you don’t even know about her heart’s condition…do you know she has the Protocore Syndrome, and she could, touch wood, drop dead if gone through tremendous amount of stress??? Do you even know what the Protocore Syndrome is? If you did your research you would have.”

I stand still hearing that…I’ve heard about the Protocore Syndrome, read and researched about it, heck so many people came to our shop to collect flowers for them who died from this, or they who were suffering from it! Heck I knew about it better than most!

‘It was disease caused when Protocores, that were special energy cores dropped from high-level Wanderers, negatively affecting a person's body. There are currently three types known to affect humans, and each one causes different symptoms and levels of disease progression.’

But he didn’t know that…he barely ever asked me about my day or work…whereas I…

I look up at his face, I want to scream but I don’t, there is barely a point anymore…

“Do you know that my life’s worth research is about them and how I can save my patients, how can I save from it? You say you don’t know about my childhood, well here’s a fact I will give you, I became a cardio-surgeon because of her, because she suffered from this deadly disease…because I wanted to cure her and never lose her…she is the most important person in the world to me.”

“Do you know what it’s like to have a disease like such, when you have the case of a high probability of death at any given stance if your over stressed or overworked? You should consider yourself lucky…And as her primary physician it is my duty to care the most for her, in whichever way you take it.”

That was the last straw…that broke my heart, shattering and stepping on it completely…

“Zayne…you…wow…”, I was speechless once again, but right now…I didn’t know anything it felt like I’m in a foreign place where no one knows me…I feel like a refugee of a war…

“I have Anemia Zayne…Anemia…”, I speak softly, my voice broken, eyes filled with tears once again…I could feel him stiffen, cussing under his breath, saying he’d gone too far…too far…

“I’m…I’m sorry…I…I didn’t mean to compare any disease with another, I just—”

“Maybe the next the I should just stop taking all my meds and supplements and bleed myself close to death…or maybe if I had sickle-celled anemia, with a probability of death maybe then you would’ve noticed me…if I would’ve just laid on the bed at Akso in the ER…maybe then you’ll finally notice me…”

“I know what Protocore Syndrome is Zayne…I have everyday many customers come in to collect flowers for their dear loved ones they lost or are on the verge of losing, or even for themselves…they share me their stories and I listen as my heart breaks hearing those…all I could do was give them the best of flowers and well wishes from the bottom of my heart…I know it Zayne I do…and I’m sorry…I didn’t know about MC…I’m so so sorry…I’ll apologise to her…”

“I don’t hate her…I don’t…I— *voice cracks* I just…I was hurting like anything…and it vented out like that…I’m sorry…” *I fall to the floor, crying out loud, I don’t hold back anymore…* maybe he tried to reach out for me, but I speak up before he could…

With my broken voice, my breath coming out in heavy successions… “Please just give me closure…I’m too tired…too…tired…”

He drops down and holds me tight, as I bawl to his chest…I couldn’t anymore…it feels so natural but it’s the end…I know it is…

“Please let me…have…closure…”

Maybe his voice cracked a bit too…

“I’m sorry (Name) I’m so so sorry, I couldn’t be the man who should have treated you properly…I’m sorry I should have told you earlier…I thought I was over her but I wasn’t…maybe my brain created an image of you as her, that you were her…whenever we’d sleep together, go out, or tried to kiss…all I could imagine was her face…hence I stuck to forehead and cheek kisses…I’m so so sorry…”

As I sob and sob loudly, while he kept holding me…just like that, it was over…we were over…

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(Credits: Pinterest)

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[z2z-gaming-and-random-art-ai]

Back Cover to AI Art S3E54 - Hostage Rescue Mission

Older video games were notorious for back cover descriptions that have nothing to do with the game so let's see what a text-to-image generator makes of these descriptions. each episode of Back Cover to AI Art Season 3 will feature 4 ai art creations for each game.

1. Intro - 00:00 2. Back Cover and Text Description - 00:10 3. Creation 1 - 00:30 4. Creation 2 - 01:00 5. Creation 3 - 01:30 6. Creation 4 - 02:00 7. Outro – 02:30

Hostage Rescue Mission (Commodore 64) Hostage: Rescue Mission (1988), developed by Infogrames Europe SA, is a tactical action game that puts players in command of a counter-terrorism team tasked with rescuing hostages from a terrorist-held embassy. Known as Hostages or Rescue: The Embassy Mission on various platforms, the game unfolds in two main stages, combining strategy, stealth, and action.

🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢

In the first phase, players must position three snipers around the building, avoiding enemy spotlights to reach advantageous vantage points. These snipers are crucial for the second phase, where players control a strike team entering the embassy to neutralize the terrorists and rescue the hostages. Depending on the snipers' placement, they can provide valuable cover for the rescue team.

🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢🎯🕵️‍♂️🚨🏢

For more Back Cover to AI Art videos check out these playlists

Season 1 of Back Cover to AI Art https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CGhd82prEQGWAVxY3wuQlx3

Season 2 of Back Cover to AI Art https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEdLNgql_n-7b20wZwo_yAD

Season 3 of Back Cover to AI Art https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CHAkMAVlNiJUFVkQMeFUeTX

[dreamsofminnie]

“Ethereal Paintings”

02~ Transfer students and a task☂️

Scaramouche x Reader Smau

You waved a farewell to Ayaka, Yoimiya and Albedo as they eyed you walking towards the professor as the lecture ended.

Professor Rukkadevata waves you over with a gentle smile. The most gracious and kind professor from all the other teachers you knew. Not that every other prof is terrible to you, you loved every art teacher. She asked to see you after class, emailed to you right before class had started. You are one of her favorite—if not most favorite—student.

“Good afternoon Professor Rukka! How may I help you!” Your vision failed you since you didn’t notice the two people who came and stood to the side of you.

She nods a greeting then raises her arm towards the two others, her voice gentle with care. “Y/n, the new transfer students have missed two weeks worth of lectures. And I trust you to help them catch up. A simple task I merely ask.”

You turn your head at the two boys and looked them over. When you were with your friends trying to get a glimpse of the transfers there were way too many bodies sitting in that section so it was hard to really see. Now that they were directly placed in front of you, you could gauge their appearance.

One had an aesthetic of what you would call a soft boy. Definitely fit for autumn theme. His cream white hair stuck out a tuff of red which you pinned him as a male leaf. He smiled as a greeting which you returned.

Adverting your eyes to the other guy, your breath hitched. You really never believed in love at first sight but, you might have to rethink because; he was jaw-dropping gorgeous. His skin was so glossy and porcelain-like, eyes were strikingly sharp and hypnotizing. He majorly wore dark colors with either blue accents or dark purple. Emo-rock aesthetic. The look he gave you however contrasted his beautiful appeal, they glared at you and with a shiver you swivel back to the older woman.

“Of course! I’m happy to help my art peers.” Grinning at the chance to befriend the breathtaking male, your energy levels elevated even without coffee on this dreary monday.

“Thank you Y/n. Have a splendid rest of the afternoon you three.” She slightly bowed her head as you lead the boys from the lecture hall.

“My name is Y/n as you both know from the Prof. Can I have your names?” You tilt your head back at them as you hike the stairs towards the campus library.

“I’m Kazuha. Nice to meet you Y/n.” Kazuha put one hand on his chest with a little bow of his head despite climbing the stairs.

“…Scaramouche.” Pretty boy finally said as you all reached the peak of the staircase. Unique name for a pretty boy—was your first thought.

“Mmkay! I have all may notes on me so let’s get started on the first lecture notes. There are 4 days of lecture notes in total, but the notes are very long since it’s a 2 hour lecture.” Kazuha nods while Scaramouche groans.

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The way the three of you sat at the table facing the window was you, Scara then Kazuha in that order.

You were texting on your phone when a pen tapped your arm, it was gentle so you assumed it to be Kazuha. “Can you explain this part to us Y/n.”

You nodded and he tilted the notebook a bit higher towards you, Scara looked on as well. And at this moment, you didn’t realize your handwriting could be so small. You leaned a bit further toward the book. Completely unaware of the invasion of space you have penetrated at that moment.

Scaramouche held his breath when your head was a few inches from his view. He could see your side profile in every detail, his eyes couldn’t help but stare. You didn’t seem to be focused on him only on your own penmanship so it wouldn’t hurt to look as long as he was allowed. How your nose was shaped so cutely, the way your eyelashes stretch out in length, your blinking and the scrunches of your nose and crinkle of your eyes. When you suddenly brighten in relevation and let out a “Aha!” did Scaramouche snap out of that trance and shrunk back into his seat further away from your body.

You explained and Kazuha’s nods and “Ohs” felt distant to him as he thinks back on his unconcious actions. This is stupid—Scarmouche silently huffs and takes his note book to doodle write in which his knees drawn up to hold up his book. Your back-and-forth explaining went on over Scara’s head with him still silently listening.

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Synopsis-> When you were required to help the new transfer student the history of art from the two weeks he missed. He didn’t know you were the one artist he was inspired by. You grow fond of each other but stay at a flirting stage. But finding out that he’s a dreaded a.i user; your mortal art enemy; everything in your relationship is obliterated. Will he be able to reconcile and steal your he-art♡ once again?

When is it my turn to fall in love at first glance☹️

//Taglist// {Open}

@akagism2 @pokidot @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @aeongiies @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo

[darudedogestorm]

making a personal list of all the warriors fangames i can think of since it would be good to have them all in one place. including (most of) the download links on each game's respective official pages, provided i can actually find them - some of these games are quite old, not documented very well, or have obscured download methods.

not all of these games are complete, many are actively updating, on hiatus, or have been outright cancelled. nevertheless i thought it would be worth listing all of them. descriptions are subject to change as i (re)play each game.

ClanGen - link to web version, downloadable version (itch.io page)

DESCRIPTION: Currently the most well-known fangame that has come out in recent times; you take control of a clan and watch as it grows and changes with time, with cats dying, having kits, changing roles, etc. The player has a good deal of control over what direction their clan goes in, being able to pair together cats, send them on patrols (where they can face big successes or lethal failures), and make other important decisions for their clan’s future. Because of this, it has become a very popular tool for people to tell their own original clan stories. Recent updates (not available on the web version) have added more survival based elements (injuries, and the ability to heal them with herbs), and there is reportedly more to come in the future with the cruel season update. The game is still actively updating as of writing this post. Recommended if you want a clan life simulator that allows for more creative freedom to tell a story.

Warriors: A New Dawn - downloads are no longer available online, you will need to join the discord (and will have to do a bit of digging to find a working link)

DESCRIPTION: A text based game where you take control of a clan of cats and are tasked with guiding them to become a successful, thriving clan. Rather than being an independent overseer, you act as the clan’s own leader, making crucial decisions like sending out various types of patrols, socializing with your clanmates, expanding your territory, and even leading your clan into battle. Battles are turn based, and as you and your clanmates gain experience, you are able to learn a larger variety of stronger and stronger moves. The game seems to be on hiatus, as no new updates have come out in recent months, though the dev sometimes talks about what they have been working on in the discord server. Recommended if you want a clan simulator that has more survival elements and resource-based gameplay. (fun fact… I was one of the first people who got to play this game!) EDIT 07/02/23: The game has been confirmed to be on an indefinite hiatus.

Warrior Cats: The Game series - official website is here, you can download all 3 games following the detailed guide on the site. tip: the activation code is 7991819.

DESCRIPTION: One of, if not THE first Warriors fangames! Each game follows the events of the first three arcs (with the first game being The Prophecies Begin, etc). It offers basically your typical rpg experience, with the battles include both random encounters as well as story-important events (for example, battling against Brokenstar). The games are notoriously difficult in places (you may need a walkthrough to help you along the way, and grinding is kind of a requirement). However, I would say it is a worthwhile experience for any Warriors fan looking for a good fangame. The games are all complete and no longer updating.

Untold Tales - download here (and for good measure, since it's by the same dev and it's basically cattails lite, you can buy cattails on steam, or take a look at its upcoming sequel)

DESCRIPTION: Another classic, wherein you play as a clan cat. Does not have a story: you just live life among your clanmates, hunting, battling, completing quests, and so on. Uniquely, you are not bound to one clan but are given a variety of options to choose from: You can live in any of the 4 main clans, become a kittypet (allowing you to join bloodclan), or live as a rogue and start up your very own clan. This game shares a developer with Cattails, and you can tell as many of the mechanics in Untold Tales are present and more fleshed out in Cattails (hence why I have also linked it in this post). No longer updating as the dev has moved on.

The Road to Immortality - link to act 1 here (also my favorite wc fan game, please please play it)

DESCRIPTION: Possibly my favorite Warriors fangame to date. You play as a kittypet-turned-apprentice of ThunderClan decades after the events of the main series, during a time where tensions among the clans are sky-high, and only seem to be getting worse by the day. The main appeal of this game is that the choices you make throughout the game can have huge and devastating consequences for you and your friends down the line (in other words: multiple endings!). The battles are challenging yet still fun. I won’t spoil too much about the story itself here: all I'll say is that i recommend your first playthrough be blind - save the walkthroughs for your second run! The game so far has only Act 1 out right now. It was supposed to have an Act 2, but that was seemingly cancelled (and then uncancelled? it’s a bit unclear, and I'm not apart of the discord so I can’t really tell). Regardless, Act 1 makes for an excellent standalone experience which - I cannot stress this enough - I highly recommend.

Warrior Cats: The Next Generation - have not had the chance to verify the download myself, but you can find the forums here (and the tvtropes page here, if needed)

DESCRIPTION: TBA, RPGmaker

Dark Forest Apocalypse - i'm not gonna lie i have no idea where to actually download this game. google does return some pages that could lead to reliable downloads, but i haven't had the chance to test them yet and i'd rather not link something that may be a virus or lead to something entirely different. i did find a playthrough of this game (linked here) which includes a download link in the comments, but i have not had the chance to test that one either.

DESCRIPTION: TBA, RPGmaker

Rise of the Clans/Moonlight Dynasty - official download here for multiple versions of the game

DESCRIPTION: TBA, RPGmaker

Clans Divided - itch.io page here

DESCRIPTION: TBA, multiplayer roleplay

Message of Stars - unverifiable download link, Youtube video here

DESCRIPTION: TBA, visual novel

if you see a game that has been left out, feel free to add it in a reblog or reply!

[ktheist]

03 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content, fingering, mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.  “why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?”

x

saturday evening, taehyung comes up to you with a face of a blank canvas, phone in his hand facing the ceiling and relays the news of his break up.

you’re in the middle of watching a show with his two brothers on your laptop.

“wh-what?” is all you manage to say whilst namjoon and seokjin freeze in their spots.

“i broke up with her,” taehyung’s shoulderline rises as he casually shrugs.

“but why?” deep down, you have an inkling - but your mouth moved on its own before you can even stop it.

“cause she was shit talking you,” and with that, he twirls around, heading back to the hallway where one of the doors connect to his room.

and just like second nature, your body shoots up, trailing after the slumped man like a mother to her pupper.

“you guys watch without me,” you briefly say to the two men on the couch, their faces scrunching with growing concern.

for the first time in a long time, you and taehyung bare your hearts to each other. talked about your fears and hopes and what keeps you going. which is, to an extent, each other and the two brothers. you’re not sure how you fell asleep but you wake up with a leg sprawled all over your stomach and a snoring sound echoing against the wall. the blanket draped over you and taehyung isn’t part of his bedset because one, you and taehyung end up sleeping on top of the sheets and two, you know the only one brother out of the three loves the color blue so much, his bedsheets and blankets are always themed with light cerulean. and this blanket - you’ve definitely seen seokjin use a dozen times.

"hey, morning,” you greet the two brothers whilst they’re unpacking what seems to be takeouts from a store you all collectively agree have no bad item in their menu.

everyone eats just about anything from that restaurant.

“morning, sleepyhead.” namjoon shakes his head, smiling - it’s probably the hair pointing in different directions.

“how’s taehyung?” seokjin asks when you come to sit on the stool next to where he’s standing.

“well, i mean - he’s not in a good place,” you begin, “i know he really liked her. and i know she talks shit about me behind my back and she knows i do too and he’s always caught in between, but he always seemed to brush it off and never take sides you know? so i didn’t think he’d break up with her over it.”

“hey, it’s not your fault,” the hand on your shoulder is warm, seeping into your heart as you examine the sincerity of those brown eyes, down to the reassuring smile of those plump lips.

“thanks for saying that, jinnie,” you want to ask for a kiss (and maybe some dick) but with namjoon - though he’s cluelessly continuing with his task of preparing the takeouts - around, you settle for patting his hand that’s on your shoulder.

after washing your face and returning to the kitchen, you find the previously sleeping-like-a-long giant perched on one of the stools, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.

“look who’s up!” a smack lands on taehyung’s back.

the aforementioned man doesn’t even flinch as he takes another second to rub all the sleepiness away before craning his neck to look at your smiling face - it may be a dumb smile but someone’s got to be lifting the atmosphere.

“i thought you left,” he grumbles, before his arm snakes around your waist and brings you in for a side hug.

the recoil is almost automated as your smile scrunches into a cringe, arms flailing to push him away and at least get a few inches gap in between,“ew, what the hell.”

“i’m sad! gimme a hug,” he laments whilst namjoon laughs, commenting something about how “adorable” the two of you are and how it “...reminds me of the good old days, you know?”

he means when you and taehyung aren’t as resistant to skinships.

but all your attention goes to the eldest brother whose glance lingers a second too long before he tears his gaze off from you and taehyung.

x

it turns out that little bitch tried making taehyung choose between you and her after he’d texted her (in an attempt to placate her jealousy-prone heart) about how you’d opted to room with seokjin in yesterday.

give them and inch and they’ll take a mile.

“i should’ve known,” taehyung shakes his head, bags heavy under his eyes as he lies in his bed, cocooned by the light cerulean blanket, “you don’t like her but you like everyone-”

“don’t you go justin bieber on me,” you smack him in the stomach, to which he curls up into a caterpillar, moaning in pain and something about suing for personal injuries.

but the fact that he can complaint at all means that he’s recovered half of himself.

“i’m getting some food from the kitchen, you want anything?” you roll your eyes.

“how bout a new girlfriend?” he manages to say, despite the so called blow to the stomach.

“potato chips it is,” you nod before strutting out of the door.

the hallway is dimly lit, save for the lone light in the ceiling and the slightest bit of gap that allows luminescence to pour out of seokjin’s room. so you knock on the door, leaning against the frame, “hey.”

kim seokjin sits on the chair you previously occupied the night before, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes widen for the briefest second before offering you one of his warm smiles, “hey, how’s taehyung?”

“he’s eating,” you shrug, trying to appear casual even though something in the way his shirt swallows his already broad built and making him appear like you can fight him and win - gets your heart doing flips.

“that’s gre-” he can’t even properly get his response out because you’re already crossing the short distance between you and him, hands cupping his cheeks before smashing your lips against his. as if you haven’t had water for days. as if you’ve been breathing with your head barely above water.

his hands find their way on your hips, kissing you back more delicately than you can ever control yourself. tingles dot your skin from where his hand caresses your elbow and travels up your arm, lingering there, as though forgetting the reason his warning touch.

“i needed that,” you break away only to steal another kiss before confessing.

seokjin chuckles, his hand slipping over to your chest before attempting to pinch your nipple. to which he fails because your padded bra successfully blocks him off.

“oh, you’re wearing a bra?” the genuine surprise gleaming in his eyes should offend you.

“unless you want your brother accidentally touching my nips while we were wrestling each other to decide who gets to use your comfy as hell blanket,” you roll your eyes.

taehyung won, obviously. which explained why he was lying in bed like a human burrito just now.

“i’d have to give taehyung a personal beating if that happened,” the dorky grin and amused glint in his whenever he cracks a not-so-funny-but-adorable joke, isn’t present.

your heart’s always done this thing where it skips with every smile that curls on his lips, yet the lack of it and the underlying seriousness of his tone is making your heart lurch in your throat, warmth spreading all over your body.

“anyways, i need to get taehyung some chips, thanks for the kiss.” you wave but something wraps around your wrist like an iron hold seconds before you find yourself perched in seokjin’s lap and the man dangerously close to you - despite having shared a passionate kiss just a moment ago.

“taehyung this, taehyung that,” his hand slips under your shirt, coarse hand trailing up your back until you feel him unhooking your bra in one go.

like he’s had enough practice in the art of seduction.

“well, he’s the one out of the four of us with a broken heart,” you pray to the constellations and deities that your voice is levelled though it soon proves to be pointless if his other hand’s snaking up your front and hovers over your chest where he could feel the organ beneath beating wildly.

“you’re breaking mine though... with spending that much time with my brother,” he traps your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, caressing, teasing with a smile that ironically has probably broken a few hearts of his own.

“i can fix that,” you beam, finger tracing down his front and down to the waistline of his pants, to which you can’t reach unless you scoot away to allow your hand to -

“not right now,” the sound of wind chimes drum in your ears as he chuckles.

it makes the umpteenth rejection a little less prickly, as you pout, “when?”

“soon,” and with that, he takes your wrist in his hand, making you push your own shirt up until your nipples are bare in the open, “hold this up for me, please.”

it’s the please that gets you.

ever the gentleman even as he’s about to tease you with his teeth against your nipples and his free hand fondling your other breast.

“why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?” you grunt, displeased, but arch your back anyway to make it easier for him to suckle and bite on your erected nipples.

you’ve always thought his hair looked soft but it’s softer as you bury your free hand in it. at first, it’s just a gentle caress - just like patting a golden retriever. but then as his tongue lapse over your protruded nub and the pressure in his free hand in your other breast grows more intense, you’re surprised he’s not moaning out in pain from the way your hand’s instinctively grasping at his roots.

“ah!” a yelp escapes you when he leaves your left nipple for the other one, biting down harder than you’re used to but not enough to draw blood.

you’re lost in the pain and pleasure of his tongue and apt fingers, where his mouth isn’t sucking on your nipple, his fingers are pinching and groping it. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctively remember a midly pressing matter-

“what the fuck?”

something about a heartbroken best friend and an unclosed door.

"t-taehyung!” you gasp, body almost jolting upward like a criminal caught red handed but seokjin’s arms around your body roots you down in his lap as he slowly pulls down your shirt before turning his attention to his youngest brother.

“taehyung, calm down,” he instructs with ease but his wide-eyed gaze is filled with concern.

“this isn’t-” you begin, slipping away from seokjin’s loosened grasp to pad over to your best friend who looks like he’s seen a ghost or his brother and best friend almost-fucking. either one works, “this isn’t what you think.”

“no-” the younger cups his mouth as he doubles over, his other hand held up in the air as if to tell you to “stay the fuck back-”

“oh, come on,” the slightest brush of your nipples against the material of your carelessly-pulled-down bra makes does not go pass you, yet you put your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic.”

and that’s when taehyung hurls his guts out in front of seokjin’s door.

x

note. ooof 

i wasn’t sure if this drabble was gonna gain any eager readers. when i say eager, i mean those who look forward to an update, but some of you showed interest and it warms my heart! so here’s to another update! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @aretha170​ @scalubera​ @ambersaesthetics​ !

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter six: no one but you

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 5.6K

A/N: i sincerely hope you guys like the way this ends, it’s always so nerve-wracking to end a story! the epilogue to this story is posted as well and linked.  thank you to every single person who sent sweet messages of support it means the world to me.  SMUT WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f), unprotected sex (only in fiction y’all) and hoseok thirst.

of course, i cannot post this story without shouting out some of the most supportive, killer people on this site.  you guys truly mean the world to me @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @taetaewonderland​ @hobi-gif​

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

There are perks to being the boss.

For Namjoon, it means calling the shots on the streets from his office in the sky.  Rarely does he leave the climate-controlled comfort of his pristine headquarters to get his hands dirty in the day-to-day business of the organization he runs.

Tonight, he’s making an exception.

Yoongi drives. Like a bat out of hell, as always.

It’s a thirty-minute ride from downtown Seoul to Incheon Port without traffic but Yoongi is on pace to finish it in just twenty.  Hoseok watches the lights on the expressway speed by from the backseat.  He tries hard to focus on the information Namjoon shares, the details he’ll need in order to ensure he doesn’t put himself or anyone else in danger tonight.  

But fuck, it’s so hard to concentrate with the taste of you still on his lips.  

He scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.  He forces himself to push the memory of your body in his hands and your skin in his mouth and your voice in his ear to the corner of his mind.  

Then he goes over the information again.

Namjoon wants to be in place at least ten minutes before the scheduled meet so he can figure out what’s going on before the Ssijog knows he’s there with his men.  

He wants guns to stay holstered unless he gives the signal.

He wants --

“You must have really scared the shit out of that guy, Jung,” Namjoon murmurs from the front seat.  Hoseok snaps back into focus to search for his boss’s reflection in the side mirror and finds Namjoon already looking at him. “He’s been blowing up his contact since last night, begging for personal protection.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” Hoseok shrugs.  “I certainly could have.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Namjoon agrees.  “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed to be outside of his apartment when his handler picked him up.  Here I was, under the impression you had the night off.”

Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just doing my job.”

There’s a twist to Namjoon’s mouth that Hoseok can’t read and it puts him on edge.  

“Well, I must thank you for your dedication to your job,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this assignment.”

Hoseok looks away from the mirror.  “Yeah, sure,” he says quietly.  

The car falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Yoongi clears his throat.  

“So anyway --” he announces loudly, “-- Jimin and Tae were able to track Kang’s texts through some internet bullshit they mess around with. Apparently dude flipped out after you left his place and wouldn’t let up until his handlers agreed to meet him tonight.”

“At Incheon Port?” Hoseok asks, glad for the redirect.  “That’s a hell of a drive for a chat.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Namjoon says under his breath.  

The car falls silent once again.

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

Mun Kiwoo has a reputation for being messy.

The man at the top sets the tone for the organization, and Mun is no exception.  His men are known for their brutality, his deals often go south, and by most accounts his syndicate is hanging on by a thread.

But it’s still hanging on.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi watch quietly from their vantage point behind a shipping container as Mun waits in the dark, cigarette in hand. He looks like an unmade bed -- shirt rumpled and half-tucked into his wrinkled dress pants.  He lights one cigarette off of another as he answers a series of calls on his cell.  

His agitation seems to rise each time it rings again.

Hoseok takes stock of the two guards Mun has at his side tonight.  They’re bulky men with huge arms and round bodies -- the kind of guys who look dangerous due to sheer size, but would be slow to respond in a physical fight.  Namjoon holds up two fingers to confirm they’re the only men with Mun and Hoseok nods.

Headlights bounce off the pavement after a few more minutes of waiting.

A black car pulls up close to the water’s edge and Mun Kiwoo ends his call just as he lights another cigarette.  

Kang Donghyuk is the first out of the car, followed closely by his Ssijog handler.  Kang is dragging his ass and even from a distance, Hoseok can make out the bandage over the side of his face.

Hope it hurts, motherfucker.

“Mr. Kang,” Mun Kiwoo’s voice is clear now, loud enough for all three men to hear.  “You have been rather insistent about this meeting. I’m a busy guy.  What do you want?”

All three men strain to listen to Donghyuk’s response, but it’s too muffled to catch.  Yoongi brings his hands to his throat to make a choking gesture.  Can’t hear shit, he mouths.  You choked him too hard.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mun laughs in response to whatever Kang has said.  “Not mine.”

Donghyuk gestures wildly as he tries to make his case, likely pleading for the protection of the Ssijog.   Mun Kiwoo looks unmoved.

“I’m not interested in causing any more trouble with the Gajog, Mr. Kang.  This entire situation has been a means to an end.  Stirring more shit with Kim Namjoon is not in my best interest.”

Namjoon signals to Yoongi and Hoseok that it’s time to move.  All three men step out from their cover behind the shipping container, hands in front of their bodies to demonstrate none are holding their weapons.

“Fucking hell,” Mun Kiwoo groans when he spots them.  “I don’t have time for this shit.”

His guards bow up at his side, both men reaching for their guns.  Mun has the good sense to raise a hand and stop them from pulling their firearms -- which keeps Yoongi and Hoseok from doing the same.  All of the men face off in silence for a moment, each side waiting to see if the other will do something to break the fragile peace.

Kang Donghyuk whines under his breath and Hoseok shoots a warning glare at him.  He drops his gaze to the ground and shuts his mouth.

“You say you don’t want trouble with me, Mun and yet --” Namjoon snarls, “-- you have this piece of shit working my sister. Explain.”

“You know how these rich boys are, Kim,” Mun chuckles.  “They develop a bad habit -- or in this idiot’s case, two -- and daddy’s money isn’t enough anymore.  They’re easy to buy.”

Donghyuk looks from Namjoon to Mun, panic in his wide eyes.

“They’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“So what?” Mun laughs.  He smiles wide to reveal a mouth like an abandoned graveyard, teeth broken and scattered.  “This guy thinks we’re friends,” he jeers, jerking a thumb in Donghyuk’s direction.  “He’s too stupid to figure out that he served a purpose and now he doesn’t anymore.  Simple as that.”  

Namjoon sucks in a breath with obvious irritation.

“I’m still waiting to hear what any of this shit has to do with my sister.”

“Ah, yes,” Mun says, stubbing out his cigarette and getting back to the task at hand. “Listen, I don’t have anything against your sister personally, okay? Lim Joowon is my son and I want him back.  He can’t spend the next 15 years behind bars. You understand that, right? Doing whatever it takes for your family?”

Namjoon utters a curse under his breath.

“I’ll give your sister some credit, though -- she’s tenacious.  I thought she’d give up after we took her digital files,” Mun admits.  “Instead she’s cost me a hell of a lot more money.  I’ve had to start cutting a lot more checks to ensure this shit goes away.”

“She’s not the type to roll over and play dead, Mun,” Namjoon growls through gritted teeth.  

“The pigheaded gene runs in the family, huh?” Mun grins. “Look, let me level with you Kim, man to man.  I don’t even need your sister at this point. I’ve paid enough people to fuck this case from the inside out.  But I won’t lie, she is my insurance.  If any of the higher-ups start asking questions about why this case fell apart -- who better to point the finger at than the sweet young prosecutor with the dirty family connections, hmm?”

Namjoon tenses, hand reaching for the gun at his side.  Yoongi stops him with a muttered warning.

“None of us give a fuck about what happens to your son, Mun,” Namjoon says. “What I have a problem with is you sending that piece of shit --” he points at the trembling Kang Donghyuk, “ -- into her fucking home. Invading her space.  You crossed a line.”

“You’re right,” Mun agrees lightly.  “It was rude. Uncalled for.  I’m gonna apologize for it right now.”

He pulls his pistol from his side and the sound of clinking metal bounces off the shipping containers as everyone pulls their guns.  Hoseok trains his pistol directly at the shaking Kang Donghyuk and silently prays for the chance to pull the trigger. Mun Kiwoo’s gun is pointed at Namjoon and Namjoon’s is pointed right back.

Then Mun’s face lights up with a bizarre smile. He swings the point of his pistol in the direction of Donghyuk and pulls the trigger twice.

Donghyuk sputters as he falls to the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchange looks.  

Namjoon stares at Mun incredulously.

“What?” Mun’s nonchalance is comical.  “You wanted to do that too, right?  Besides, that guy owes everyone in the city money. I promise you, his own mother won’t even miss him.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. “This guy is fucking nuts.”

Mun puts his pistol away and his men follow suit.  Namjoon signals for Yoongi and Hoseok to do the same.  

“Consider that a goodwill gesture,” Mun says breezily.  “An official apology from me, to you.  And please pass along my consideration to your sister.  Please assure her that none of this is personal.  But I will make sure my son stays out of prison.  And like it or not, she’s going to play some kind of role in that.”

Namjoon stares off into the water.

“I can’t control my sister, Mun.  She makes her own choices,” he says after a moment.  “But let me be clear, this is the first and last polite discourse we’re going to have about this situation.  I don’t want you, your goons or any --” he glances at the bleeding pile of Kang Donghyuk on the floor, “-- paid help going near her.  Not in her office, not in her home. Nowhere. Are we clear?”

Mun Kiwoo lights another cigarette and smiles wide, the space in his teeth prominent against the gleaming ember hanging from his mouth.  

“Crystal.”

On the way back to the car, Hoseok hears the heavy splash of Kang Donghyuk’s body hitting the water down below.

He shuts his eyes against the rush of pleasure he feels as he climbs into the backseat.

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

YOU

Something isn’t right.

You stare at the empty seat across the conference table -- the one where Hyejin normally sits -- and something twists in your gut.  She’s out sick today.  You can’t even remember the last time she took a sick day.

All morning, you’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s no big deal.  That you’re working yourself up for nothing.

But Donghyuk is out today, too.  

Vaguely, you register the sound of your boss’s voice at the front of the room. Any minute now, you’ll be asked to brief the team on the status of your case, but you can’t think straight.  You can’t focus on anything but the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something is wrong.  

Your thoughts race back to last night, back to your brother taking his men away for business in the middle of the night.

Back to Hoseok.

You try not to think about what it felt like to have his warm body pressed against yours. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and spice. The way you unraveled the moment he touched you.  

Your phone pulses with an incoming text.

namjoon: i’ve asked jungkook to bring you to the office tonight after work [ 1:25 PM ]

namjoon: a lot to discuss [ 1:26 PM ]

Your brain grinds to a halt as you stare at the messages.

It’s like everything is wrong and everything is right, all at the same time.

“Miss. Kim?”

You look up to see your boss staring at you, one expectant eyebrow raised.  You take a deep breath, line up your papers and stand to take your place at the front of the room.

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

The sense of déjà vu that hits you as you make the long walk across your brother’s office is nearly overwhelming.  This is exactly how this entire mess began weeks ago -- with you summoned to see Namjoon after hours, with Yoongi and Hoseok flanking him on either side.

But there is one thing different about tonight.

When you briefly lock gazes with Hoseok as you make your way to Namjoon’s plush chair, there is a warmth behind his dark eyes you can see from a distance. It’s a complete contrast to the first time you ever saw him, when you thought you could freeze to death from the ice in his glare.

You look away before anyone can catch the flush working its way up your neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you brother begins evenly.  “I finally have some answers for you about what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m ready to hear them,” you exhale, taking a seat.  Your eyes drift over the papers strewn scattered across his desk.  

“We’ve learned that the reason the Ssijog want your case against Lim Joowon to fold is because Lim is Mun Kiwoo’s son.”

You raise a brow.

“That’s news to me.  I didn’t even know Mun Kiwoo had a son.”

“Neither did we,” Namjoon admits.  “Apparently this is his only son and the man he intends to pass control of the Ssijog down to.  So it makes sense that he’s so hell-bent on seeing this case fall apart.”

He picks one of the papers off his desk.

“This is the more problematic piece of the puzzle,” Namjoon says quietly.  Your chest tightens in response to the expression on his face. “Jimin and Taehyung tracked a Ssijog account making payouts.  Payouts to people in your office.”

He holds the piece of paper out to you.

“There are six names on that list.”

You take a deep breath before taking the sheet from his hands.  

Your eyes scan down the document, taking in the blows, one by one.  Two receptionists.  One paralegal.  

Lee Hyejin.  

Kang Donghyuk.  

Park Soo.

You say nothing as you stare at the list, taking in the names again.

Someone you called a friend.  Someone you’d allowed into your bed.  The boss you’d bent over backwards trying to impress.  You stare at the black-and-white evidence of betrayal in your hands, reading the words over and over -- expecting to feel sadness or rage or humiliation or something.  

Nothing comes.

“Give us a moment, would you please?”

Yoongi and Hoseok file out of the room quietly at Namjoon’s command.  The second the heavy door to the office clicks shut, he clears his throat.  “There is something else we need to discuss, Amsaja,” your brother continues quietly.  “Kang Donghyuk is dead.”

“Good.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide at the quick, calm delivery of your response.

You stand to walk to his sideboard to pour a drink.  You have no idea what’s inside the decanter, only that whatever it is promises a burn you want to feel right now. You pour a glass and take a sip, leaning against the heavy wooden piece.

“Did you kill him?”

“No. The Ssijog beat us to it,” Namjoon admits.  “But Hoseok paid Donghyuk a personal visit at home to convey our -- displeasure -- at his involvement in this mess. He damned near choked that man to death hours before Mun Kiwoo put two bullets in him.”

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay.”

The words Hoseok spoke in your kitchen surface in your mind.  

They’d sent a bolt of pleasure through you at the time -- triggering a kind of primitive response you’d be embarrassed to admit out loud.

And somehow that response pales in comparison to what you’re feeling right now.

A normal woman wouldn’t find satisfaction in the idea of Donghyuk cowering in fear inside his apartment.  A normal woman wouldn’t feel warmth spread through her entire body at the mental image of Hoseok wrapping his hands around Donghyuk’s throat.  You slip a finger under the collar of your blouse and search for your scar -- closing your eyes at the familiar feel of the raised skin.  

You remind yourself that you are not a normal woman.

“Hoseok uncovered Kang’s involvement with the Ssijog even before we found the payouts.”  Your brother pauses, a wry twist to his mouth as he continues.  “He can be a very determined man when something is important to him.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for just a beat too long after delivering that statement.  You look away and walk to his office window.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Amsaja,” you brother says.  You can hear the sound of him pouring his own drink behind you.  “Your silence has me concerned.”

You’re thinking about every time Hyejin feigned concern for you and tried to get you to open up. The days Donghyuk insisted he take you to lunch or to dinner when you insisted you were too swamped.  The bullshit little speech Park Soo gave you the night of the charity dinner about keeping Seoul from falling into the hands of criminals.

You’re thinking about what a joke they all are -- dressing up and looking down their noses at the criminal element they claim to despise.  Wearing their fake piety like a badge of honor and paying for their fine things with dirty money.  

You’re thinking that you’d rather choose a hundred street thugs over any one of their kind.  At least your brother has the balls to wear his sins on his sleeve.  

Namjoon joins you at the window, glass in hand.  

“What I’m thinking, Jaegyueo,” you say calmly, “Is that a lot of things are starting to make sense for me.  I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time.  So, thank you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your brother’s mouth and you return it.

You clink your glasses together in a toast.

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

You are two whiskeys deep when you leave Namjoon’s office.  

Hoseok is waiting in a chair in the hallway.  He stands to his feet when you appear from behind the heavy wooden door.  

You suck in a breath as you take him in -- the sharp beauty of his face and the soft curve of his mouth and the way his suit hugs the lines of his lean body.  You realize, with more than a little embarrassment, that you are staring.

“I’ve got the car warming downstairs,” Hoseok says carefully.  “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Yes. Hoseok, I --” you swallow thickly,  “-- I never apologized for what I said to you.  I didn’t mean those things. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok steps close and reaches one hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear.  You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch and inhaling his scent.

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” he murmurs.  “We can talk about that some other time.  Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You open your eyes to look up at him just as Yoongi rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

“Glad this isn’t awkward,” he mutters, before turning to walk back the same way he came.

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

The air in Hoseok’s car is thick with tension on the ride home.

You’ve stopped pretending to not stare, eyes fixed on Hoseok while his eyes stay glued to the road.  He guides the car through a sharp turn and you catch the way he winces as his hand grips the steering wheel.  

A throb of guilt hits you square in the chest.

“You’re hurt.”

“Nah,” Hoseok deflects quickly.  “Just a little sore.”

He won’t look at you.  Why won’t he look at you?

“Namjoon told me you nearly choked Donghyuk to death,” you say quietly, studying his face for any reaction. He slows the car to a stop at a red light and rubs his fingers across his mouth, stares out of his window.

“I wanted to kill him,” he admits.  He takes his aching hand off the steering wheel and flexes his fingers as if reliving the memory of that night. “I almost did.”

That embarrassing reaction flares inside of you again.  This time it slides down your back and pools low between your legs and you have to squeeze your thighs together in response.  You shiver as you remember the promises he made while pressing his body to yours.

“Tell me what you want. I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

You’ve never wanted anything as badly as you do Jung Hoseok right now.

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

You force yourself to wait for the elevator doors to shut.

The second they do, you crush your body and your mouth to Hoseok’s.  If you catch him off-guard, there’s no way to tell -- not with the way he immediately backs you into the elevator wall, slotting one knee between your thighs.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore,” he groans the words into the shell of your ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck.  “Just like no one gets to touch you anymore.  No one but me.”

The strangled sigh that escapes you is the closest thing Hoseok is going to get to a thank you right now.  You whimper in agreement, gasping when his fingers grip your ass to pull you flush against him.  The swollen outline of his cock brushes against your stomach and you shudder.

The elevator ride is too long and too short, all at the same time.  Hoseok backs you through the doors as soon as they open, fumbling in his pocket for the keys while you suck bruises into his throat.  By some miracle, he gets the door open and both of you through it in one piece.

“Fuck,” Hoseok swears as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding against his insistent cock.  He has to drag you both into the bedroom as you press against him like a dead weight, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as you both stumble into the bedroom.  You drop out of his grasp when the bed hits the back of your knees.

Hoseok stands back, chest heaving with exertion.

“I need you to hear you say it,” he pants.  “Please.”

You sit up straight on the edge of the bed and unbutton your blouse, slipping it off without hesitation.  “No one gets to touch me,” you breathe, reaching to unclasp your bra.  You toss it away.

“No one but you.”  

Hoseok’s eyes darken to near black.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and slowly pulls off his holster and gun, placing both carefully on top of your dresser.  Then he turns back, body looming over yours.  He cups your cheek with one large hand, looking down at you with such heat that your breath hitches in your chest.

You lean into his touch, fingertips grazing the contour of his cock beneath his suit pants.  

“You promised to give me anything I want,” you whisper, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He nods slowly, the rasp in his voice betraying the calm on his face.

“Anything.  Name it.”

“I want to take care of you,” you say, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants.  Your fingers work the buttons open, one by one.  “Let me.”

Hoseok exhales a heavy breath as you open his shirt and stroke your hands down his chest. You give yourself a moment to admire the lean strength of his body, fingers stroking over the metal tags that hang just above one dark, flat nipple.

His stomach tightens and his cock twitches in his pants when you tilt forward to press a soft kiss to the golden skin just above his belt.  You work it open with unsteady hands and his pants follow just a moment later.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, nuzzling the outline of his length with your cheek.  You push his boxers down his slim hips just enough to expose the head of his cock.  “I don’t want you to think about anything but this.”

Hoseok groans when you flick your tongue against him.  

His cock throbs under your fingertips through the fabric of his underwear when you dip down to tease the head with your mouth.  You lap at the salty moisture gathered at the swollen tip and his head drops back.

“Sweetheart, please --” he grits out, hands reaching for your hair.  He winds his fingers through the strands and jerks when you rake your teeth across the wet ridge under the head of his cock. “-- don’t tease me.”

Some other time you might play the delayed gratification game with him.  You might take hours to torture him and keep him dangling at the precipice of pleasure.  Tonight, though -- the only thing you want to do is make him come so hard he can’t see straight.

“I won’t,” you promise sweetly, pulling the rest of his thick length free from his boxers to wrap your warm fingers around him.  You flick your gaze up to appreciate the way his head is tipped back in pleasure, lips parted.

“Look at me,” you murmur, pumping him with languid strokes.

His eyes are glassy with arousal when he opens them to gaze down at you.  You make sure he’s watching as you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you draw your mouth across his length.  He gathers your hair in his hands so he can appreciate the unobstructed view of your private show.

“No one gets to touch you anymore,” you whisper.  You take him down as far as you can again, tongue dragging against the thick vein that runs the length of his cock.  You are panting when you pull off him, tongue running the seam of your lower lip as you catch your breath.

“No one but me.”

Hoseok’s dick jerks in your hand in response, hand tightening in your hair as you lick a long stripe up his shaft.  He chokes out a moan as you lick at the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, eyes fixed on his.

“No more,” he croaks.  

You pull your mouth away reluctantly, tongue swiping at the taste of him on your lips and the sight seems to set him off.  He grabs your face with both hands, groaning into your mouth as he claims it.

He pulls away, panting.

“Lie back,” he demands between breaths.  You comply without question.

Hoseok leans over you, arms braced on either side of your body as he drops his head down to take one nipple between his teeth.  Your hips jerk at the stimulation and you squirm underneath him, thighs slippery with your own excitement.  He laves at both nipples slowly, thoroughly, until they are aching and wet.  Then he trails a soft line of kisses back up to your ear.

“I want to taste what’s mine,” he whispers, and a pang of arousal hits you so hard you forget to breathe.  You lift your hips to help him pull your skirt away along with your soaked panties and he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation.

Hoseok nudges your legs apart with his hands, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.  His dark eyes are half-hooded with pleasure by the time he drapes your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans when you are fully spread open for him.  He drops a kiss on your mound and your body jolts at the sensation, every nerve ending standing at attention.  He moves lower, long fingers tracing the outline of your swollen cunt and you suck in a breath.  

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping one finger into your damp heat.  “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you choke out, hands gripping the sheets as his finger flexes inside of you.

“Only for you.”

Hoseok makes a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest before sealing his lips over your aching clit.  You shudder against his mouth when he pulls back to soothe you with the flat of his tongue.  “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined how you would taste,” Hoseok groans, licking deeply into your wetness.  “It doesn’t even come close.  Nothing comes close to this.”

“Hoseok --”  your hands come off of the sheets to grip into his hair, “-- Hoseok, please don’t stop.”

Your senses are so heightened that just the pressure of the heel of his hand against your cunt is making you crazy.  His finger crooks deep inside you, stroking against your swollen walls while his lips and teeth toy with your clit.  You whine at the stimulation, at the wet drag of his tongue that has you writhing beneath him.

“You’re close sweetheart, I can hear it,” Hoseok’s voice is ragged with arousal. “Let me hear you.  Come for me.”

You clutch his hair between your fingers, moaning brokenly as the heat between your legs simmers to a boil.

“Hoseok --”

“That’s it,” he praises you with dirty words spoken in the sweetest way. “Let me taste you. Let me hear you.”

Hoseok is prepared the moment you come apart.

He grasps your hips firmly in those large, warm hands of his -- tongue and lips persistent as the live wire inside you tightens and snaps. The force of your orgasm shakes your entire body and leaves you begging and breathless. Hoseok savors every drop of your release until your hips sink back into the mattress and you protest weakly against the threat of overstimulation.

The mattress dips under you as Hoseok joins you on the bed, lips swollen with use and mouth marked with your taste.  His head dips into the hollow of your neck, nipping gently at the skin, while his fingers skate over the soft skin of your stomach and thighs.  

You shiver in his hold, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of his body on yours.

“I want to watch you come like that every day,” Hoseok whispers into your ear.  “Only for me.”

“Only for you,” you agree in a whisper, finding your voice after what seems like ages.  

You slip one hand between you, fingers wrapping firmly around the rigid cock pressed against your stomach.  Hoseok groans when you tighten your hand around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feeling a pulse between your legs that seems to beat in time with the throb of his cock in your palm, “Fuck me please, I’m losing my mind.”

His hoarse chuckle sends a shiver up your spine as he moves to cover you completely with his body.  He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance and you tilt your hips up into his.  

“Please,” you plead again, lifting your head to brush your lips against his.  “Now.”

He sinks his cock into you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tight fit of your cunt around him.  The stretch inside of you is nearly too much -- you whimper when he bottoms out and he drops his forehead to yours.

“You okay? Am I hurting you?”

His entire body feels like a rubber band ready to snap -- coiled energy waiting to be released.  But he holds back the instinct to move until you nod your agreement.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, nudging his hips to move with your own.  You stroke your hands down the slick skin of his back.  “I’m so full right now.”

Hoseok swears under his breath as he tentatively rocks his hips against yours, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you.  You wrap your legs around him as the discomfort subsides and the only sensation that’s left is the pleasant pressure of his cock against your walls.

Hoseok’s hips move harder as your whimpers melt into moans.

“Dammit,” he swears, head dropping low between his shoulder blades.  “So tight and wet for me.  So perfect for me.”

You look up to take in the sight of his perfect face slack with pleasure, mouth parted and face flushed with exertion.  His dog tags hang from his neck, swaying as his hips begin to piston in earnest.  You pull on them to force his mouth close to yours.

“Only for you,” you whisper, “No one else.”

Hoseok’s steady rhythm stutters when you whisper those words into his mouth and press your lips to his.  His hips jerk wildly as his release races up his shaft.  He laces his fingers into yours, fucking you deep into the mattress in those final seconds as he loses all control to chasing his end.

He comes with your name on his lips.

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

Hoseok breathes deeply into your hair as you stroke your fingers across the lean lines of his chest, fingers tracing the metal outline of his dog tags.  You lie together like that for a while, skin to skin.

Your thoughts are loud in the quiet.  

You’re used to the bitter sting of betrayal by now.  

Long before Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk or Park Soo ever sold you out for a check, your own father betrayed you for the bottle.  You of all people know too well that most people aren’t to be trusted.

But then Hoseok’s fingers drag lightly across your back and they bring you back to the here and now -- back to the promise he made to you tonight.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore.”

And you decide to trust just one more time.

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

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope​ @mono-kookie@hauntedlilies @sugasaidbultaoreune @yeojaa @secret-alphabets @hodginss@parkjimin-persona​

[cozy-neko]

The Cherry On Top • Character Introductions • 01 | And so it begins • 02

With each cup of coffee Y/N placed in the cupholder, a low grumble accompanied the action. Each thunk of coffee that slid into each holder was a little more aggressive and heavy-handed than the task need be, but the air of irritation that emitted from the girl was undeniably strong, and the unfortunate barista that was tasked to make this foul-mood customer’s drinks handed her the last of her order before quickly slinking away.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Y/N continued to grumble under her breath the entire frigid three blocks back to the campus of where her office was located.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” A scowl was evident on the girl’s face the entire elevator ride up the tall skyscraper until it dinged and stopped at the 70th floor. It wasn’t until the doors slid open that Y/N sucked in a shaky breath and plastered a Crest-worthy, Splenda-sweet smile on her face as she exited the lift and entered the bustling office.

“Coffee’s here!” Y/N sang out and placed the two cup holders down on top of the front office’s counter tabletop.

“Y/N’s back!”

A scurry of workers crowded around the 21-year-old girl as she animatedly read off orders off the top of her head and handed them out, one-by-one to its rightful owner.

“You’re the best, Y/N-chan!” A senpai from the tech editorial department ruffled her head, earning a small whimper of protest as she tried to sooth her hair. It wasn’t like she spent twenty-minutes this morning trying to tame her unruly mane for nothing.

“Isn’t Y/N the best? She’s always so good at remembering who gets what.” Another senpai from the lifestyle editorial department chimed in and took a sip from her latte.

“Oh no, no! I’m just doing my job.” Y/N let out a forced chuckle, but it went unnoticed as her coworkers slowly disappeared back to their corner of the office to get back to work.

"Alright, you can drop the act, you fake."

The instant Y/N heard a snort coming from behind, the fake smile that was plastered to her face immediately dropped as she whipped around to face a chestnut-haired male.

"I hate it here," Y/N groaned and leaned her upper body onto the countertop. She let out a huff of air and blew a stray piece of hair away from her eyes. "I can't wait to graduate from coffee intern to staff writer."

"You're meeting with the Chief later today, right?" Oikawa Tooru removed his hands from the pockets of his slacks and eyed the remaining drink leftover.

"Mmm, yeah." Y/N let out a distracted sigh as her thumbs flew across the keyboard of her smartphone for a quick text. With the click of a button, she locked her phone and shoved it into her pants pocket and gave her full attention to the older male. "Chief told me that she had good news for me, and judging by all the overtime work and random projects I picked up over the past few months --"

"You mean bitch work?" Oikawa interrupted, earning a glare from the girl.

"For your information, my 'bitch work' got published last week! And that's besides the point. All that matters is that Chief has noticed that I'm a responsible worker who is willing to go above and beyond my day-to-day tasks and now I'm definitely getting the promotion that's been long due!"

There was a smug grin on Y/N's face while Oikawa rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you are a hard worker, Y/N-chan, but that doesn't mean you should be doing other people's tasks when it should be their job to do them in the first place."

"Can't you just be happy for me?" Y/N whined. "I didn't graduate from UTokyo with over $100k in student debt just to go on coffee runs. And I don't even get to have my own drink!"

Oikawa sighed and placed a hand on top of the shorter girl's head. "I am happy for you. And proud of you. I hope you get the staff writer position you wanted, and when you do get assigned to my department, I'll make sure to run you dead with ten articles simultaneously." 

There was an evil, teasing glint in Oikawa's eyes which Y/N responded to by sticking out her tongue.

A ding! interrupted the teasing banter and Y/N checked her phone. She let out a quick squeal and a small hop.

"Gotta go! Ayame-san from tech has an article she wants me to write!"

Y/N waved goodbye and scurried away.

"Hey! I asked for a dirty Chai, not a mocha! What the fuck, Y/N?" Oikawa yelled after the retreating girl.

"Serves you right for making me do your coffee run too, Oinkawa!" Y/N's bubbly laughter echoed through the hallway as she skipped towards the tech editorial department.

Oikawa sighed and tugged at the front pieces of his hair. It was already nearing the end of the day, but he was still at least half an hour away from completing his remaining task for the day. He was currently in the middle of copy-editing an article one of his staff writers submitted earlier today when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Oikawa removed his glasses and pulled out his phone, rubbing his tired eyes while unlocking his phone. It was a text from Y/N.

She must've finally talked to Chief, Oikawa thought. He swiped his thumb to unlock his phone and read the text.

Oikawa grimaced at Y/N’s text. It was obvious the meeting did not go the way Y/N had wanted it to. Sighing, Oikawa stood up and packed his things. Looks like the article was going to have to be pushed back a week; there was a more important meeting he had to attend to first.

Y/N glared at her phone and bounced her leg, a nervous tick that Oikawa absolutely hated whenever she did. Maybe if he was here right now, he would've had the opportunity to scold her. Except his train was running five minutes late. Y/N groaned as she watched another minute go by.

Where's Tooru?

How much longer was he going to make her sit in agony at their favorite bakery and tea shop? 

Right when Y/N was about to hit send on her phone, the shop door jingled, and in waltzed Oikawa.

"Alright, alright, I'm here. What happened?" Oikawa was slightly breathless, having sped-walked from the station and down the block to meet up with Y/N. He rolled up his button-down sleeves and removed his work badge from around his neck.

"So I got the promotion," Y/N began to which Oikawa cut her off.

"Okay, congrats, but that's hardly an existential crisis."

"No! Let me finish!" Y/N stomped her foot once, irritation beginning to seep in. Oikawa rolled his eyes, completely immune to Y/N's temper flare ups. Instead of retorting, he opted to take a sip of her fruit tea. "I got the promotion, but it wasn't the promotion I wanted."

"Did you get placed in lifestyle with Iwa-chan? I heard that department's kind of a mess right now. Iwa-chan told me their lifestyle editor's too busy hooking up with Hanamaki's layout intern to even run the department --"

"Tooru, for kami's sake, I'm begging you to shut up." Y/N groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I'm TK Mag's new gossip blogger. Chief wants me to freaking exploit influencers under the alias of 'Cherry' for the new Cherry on Top blog."

“The new what now?”

end notes: 

→ the timestamps at the top of each photo are irrelevant. the timestamps that you want to pay attention to (or not. it really doesn’t matter) are the ones within the text chats.

→ if you see the word shanchou in oikawa’s and y/n’s texts, i accidentally misspelled the word shachou which means “president of the company.” i was debating whether i wanted to use the japanese spelling or just keep it as Chief. i changed my mind multiple times and decided to just go with the english version but got too lazy to correct the photo. 🤡

→ props to authors who only explicitly write smaus. creating each social post is so time consuming and slightly frustrating that i almost threw my phone across the room.

→ don’t come at me for my nonexistent and try-hard humor. 😔✋this is why i only write angst.

→ no kenma and akaashi this chapter, but they will be introduced in the next!

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[scriptaed]

his side, her side | 12:02 a.m.

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut;

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 1.7k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

her side;

[12:02 A.M.] happy 420 birthday hahah

Casual yet thoughtful with a dash of humor—it’s the least embarrassing text you could muster. The clock had just struck twelve, marking the first hour of his birthday, and you had spent the past ten minutes crafting a text of four words that he would probably spend a mere three seconds skimming through. The thing is, if you were to be completely honest with yourself, two minutes is an underestimate of your total time wasted on this simple task; because truth is, you’ve been entranced by your daily reveries and nightly fantasies that were your dreams ever since your paths have intertwined for the first time on a project at work. 

Your history with him began much farther into the past than five months back, however. Aloof, cold, yet chic, Jungkook and his nicely kempt, side-swept hair had caught the eyes of every girl in your orientation group just two years prior. Perhaps it was your preference for exuberant boys or your avoidance of bad boy lookalikes, but Jungkook had left little to no impression on you during the first half of the year. Sometimes you wonder if he, too, had failed to notice you. 

Ironically, it was only when your second partner at work had pointed out the charming looks of the boy’s that you were reminded of his existence. 

“Hey, you know that guy from across our station?” she whispers under an impending fit of giggles. 

“Oh,” you pause for a moment to scavenge through a mental image of work, “you mean Jungkook?” 

“Yeah, you know him?” 

“Well, we’ve talked occasionally—” more interestingly, you’ve noticed his multiple failed attempts to befriend another man, Taehyung, who’s been pining for you in the past months… but you decide to keep that to yourself for the sake of Jungkook’s suave reputation “—but why?” 

 “Don’t you think he’s kind of cute?”

“Uh… I guess?” 

It wasn’t a lie. Really. Precisely half a year ago, the boy was just another one of your colleagues  with a slightly above average look. From meeting at orientation and occasionally bumping into each other in the coffee room, you had never paid much attention to him; but it’s almost as if your friend’s admiration had suddenly piqued a newfound interest in him… because the more you think about it, the more you’ve realized just how often you’ve crossed paths with this boy you’ve probably spoken to for less than a total of one minute. Now, you wonder: has he also come to recognize this oddity between you and him?

There was an undeniable connection, nonetheless. Between you and him, like two classmates sneaking peeks at the other, one knew of the other, despite the lack of effort to communicate. The opportunities to meet were endless, but neither made the leap to fully engage until the both of you recognized the other when you were partnered for a shared project just months prior—and ever since then, flutters of your heart has incorporated itself into your daily routine. His smirks at your dumb jokes, his primmed grin at your clumsiness, his divinely chiseled jawline, his subtle gestures of concern over your nightly walk home, and his hushed presentation of which his words were reserved for the occasional curt jokes and uncensored curses became his irressitable charm. 

Before you knew it, your friends would watch you awe over his looks of which you would claim to be his only redeeming quality. Before you knew it, your feelings grew by the second but your heart shunned the possibility out of a last resort to save an impending ache. 

He’s too good looking. Too many girls fawn over him. He has absolutely zero interest in you. He isn’t that great anyway. What does he have going for him other than that damn crooked grin of his? And his muscular build? And his overly explicit jokes that you never would have thought would come out of the mouth of a remote man like him? 

Why does fate seem to perpetually tie you down to a man like him, time after time? Perhaps it’s the hopeless romantic in you that’s speaking, but from orientation to bump-ins both inside and outside of work, you’ve started to succumb to the idea of a destiny in which fate would inevitably bring you two together. 

[3:04 a.m.] thank you! Lmao

You would soon awaken to the next morning after a night long of anxious anticipation. Your heart would panic in a frenzy at the mere heart he had sent you as a reaction to your message. 

3:04 A.M.

He must have been awake late into the night, probably playing his last round of Fortnite. You would probably tease him tomorrow over his obsession with computer games, as you always did, and he would probably laugh it off with a plea for you to stop your incessant teases.

...or, he was up with that one particular woman you had seen him chatting with at work. You were never the type to overly inspect punctuation use or time stamps—hell, you were never the one to chase in the first place—but why else would he be up so late on his birthday? The sighting of the two and their names that would pop up occasionally on your social media feed would always sting your chest—and ashamedly so. 

She’s beautiful. She’s popular. She probably got along well with Jungkook—something which you never seemed to be capable of, for your eyes would waver and your mind would blank whenever you were around him. Jungkook probably saw much more in her than you. Even though you two were the familiar ones. Even though you knew him first. Even though fate provided you endless opportunities to seize yet you would never come to do. 

This is why you deny this crush of yours with every ounce of your heart. This burning, unwarranted jealousy would be the bane of you. Your friends shall never hear of this pain nor of the butterflies in your stomach instigated by that boy’s simplest of gestures—he had replied to you with a heart, not to mention. 

It’s pathetic, but it’s enough for your foolish self; because even now, at this very moment as you lay in bed with your phone over your chest and your lips stuck in a wide grin, you relish in the ephemeral heights of cloud nine. 

Despite it all, you try to convince yourself: this would be nothing more than an infatuation, for something tells you your heart could not handle the truth of his whereabouts. 

-

his side;

[12:02 A.M.] happy 420 birthday hahah

He doesn’t realize it but an evident, crooked smile presses against his lips. She’s the first and only notification that lights up his phone screen. Aside from the distant lights of the cityscape dozens of floors below, her message illuminates his eyes amidst the darkness of the hotel room.

She’s the first to remember, he repeats to himself silently, the first to wish him well. 

“What are you looking at?”

With a simple click, he turns his phone off right as the bare chest of a woman spreads warmth against his back. She begins to press firm kisses down his neck and shoulders as her hands explored his hard abdomen along with the domains of what laid beneath the zippers to his pants. 

“Let me guess,” she muses at the lack of a response to her touches, a rare occasion for him, “is it Y/N?”

“Why do you care?” he says after a stagnant pause. 

“I don’t… unless you like her,” she watches him as he does her through the floor-length mirror. “What’s she doing texting you at midnight anyway? Something special today?” 

“Fuck if I know,” he mutters when she slips her hands underneath his waistbands.”

“Does she like you?”

The boy chuckles amusedly, “the hell? No. I’m nothing but deadweight to her for our project.”

“Did you meet her through this project?” 

“No. We’ve crossed paths multiple times before,” he recalls the shifty gaze of hers with a grin. “I don’t think she likes me.” 

“Oh? What’s there not to like?” she marvels at his muscular stature as her hands went to work. “What if she does like you, though?”

Jungkook nearly bursts into laughter—or at least the most of a laugh he could muster. The thought of Y/N’s admiration amuses him almost just as much as her peculiar actions, from her constantly flickering eyes that would avoid his gaze to the dozens of times he had easily spotted her in a crowd of many in locations that could never be by mere happenstance. 

“No,” he muses, “why would she?” 

With a meek smile and a cautious heart, she peers up to meet his eyes, “and do you… like her…?”

Like her? 

“No,” the grin from the joke before disappears from his lips, for his answer was uttered with sincerity. “Not that way. We’re barely friends…”

...at least to her.

The girl’s lips stretch from ear to ear in delight. Grabbing his phone and tossing it to the side with a newly found confidence, she turns him around to place a kiss to his lips. 

“Then why do you keep smiling at your phone like that?” 

“I am? Damn, the fuck’s wrong with me?” he quips with a lopsided grin. “Another round?” 

The girl squeals when he roughly pushes her toward the bed, the back of her knees hitting the edge as she topples onto the mattress in a fit of giggles. 

The boy doesn’t know it, but the girl takes notice of the knitted brows of his that told her his mind was elsewhere. He approaches her quicker than usual, his hands are rushed, and his lips are absentminded with the sole purpose of pursuing pleasure all in a fruitless attempt to bury his thoughts elsewhere. 

Why was he grinning? What did Y/N think of him? And what is it about her that amuses him so?

Through the remaining hours of dawn, from a room that towers over the city where he figures she must be indulging in her favorite mochi ice cream, he tries to convince himself: she would be nothing more than an infatuation, for something tells him his heart isn’t prepared for its own truth. 

[antisocial-af]

Day 24: Herongraystairs

Title: Herondale Panic

25 Days of Pairings: Day 24 Herongraystairs

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1443

No Major Archive Warnings

SFW, Fluff, Holidays, Gift, Jem to the rescue, Will tries, Modern AU, Human AU, Lightwoods are cousins not ancestors.

Summary:

Will is tasked with collecting Jem's and his gift to Tessa without being caught.

Note:

I was not aware that I couldn’t align my text to the right on Tumblr. So I did my best to make the difference between texts and the writing obvious. I apologize. I didn’t check it earlier.

Click Here to Read on AO3

Story:

Will looked around the shops and then back at the text with the directions Jem had sent him. His task was easy; Jem and he had custom ordered an ornate cloth bookmark. The shop had called them back today, saying their order was ready. The problem was that it was Christmas Eve now, and the mall was jam-packed with shoppers fleeting from store to store for last-minute purchases. 

Will pushed his phone back into his pocket and kept making his way through the waves of people, dodging excited children along the way. 

“Maybe this will have what we need, Magnus,” a very familiar voice snapped Will from his search. 

He quickly looked around, trying to find where the voice was coming from. 

“I don’t know; Alexander is quite picky in what he likes.” 

Will turned to his right and looked across the wide pathway was his girlfriend with one of their best friends. Immediately panic started to set in Will. He pulled his jacket up higher and hunched over to hide. He looked around, spotting a restroom sign. Will carefully made his way through, keeping his eyes on the pair to ensure he hadn’t been caught. 

Once safely inside the restroom, Will retrieved his phone, smiling at his lock screen of Jem and Tessa holding hands while ice skating. He recalled the memory from last week. Will pushed up the lock screen and was greeted with another picture of Jem and Tessa, but this one had him squeezed between the both of them while they both tried to help him keep his balance on the ice. 

Will pulled his messages with Jem and started to text. He needed a new game plan. Tessa wasn’t aware he was here and instead was under the impression Will was currently with Cecily, helping her wrap Lightworm’s gifts. 

<Will - 16:39>: 

JEM

JEM

JEM

JEM

JEM

<Will - 16:40>:

JEM

JEM

JEM

JEM

PLZ ANSWER!

<Will - 16:41>:

JEM!

<JemofmyEye - 16:42>:

Will, I’m at work. What could you possibly need?

<Will - 16:42>:

Tessa and Magnus are here.

Like in the mall

Where I need to get the present at.

<JemofmyEye - 16:43>:

Yes. She told us she was going to be helping Magnus look for a present today.

<Will - 16:43>:

Ok, but she is here, and I can’t get to the store. 

<JemofmyEye - 16:44>:

Will, I am currently trying to figure out how to ask a customer what they mean by ‘the foam isn’t foam.’ I need you to figure this out. Just don’t let her catch you. If she does, just say you are buying something for me.

<Will - 16:45>:

That would ultimately work…

If I hadn’t told her I was going to be busy today helping Cecily out. 

I didn’t know she was trying to ask if I wanted to come with her and Magnus!

<JemofmyEye -16:46>

Just get the gift and don’t get caught. I need to go do a live demonstration on how we put foam on drinks for this customer.

Will sighed as he read over the last text again. Jem wasn’t any help, but his boyfriend was currently on a shift during Christmas Eve. He rubbed his hands over his face and stopped to think. Tessa and Magnus had been in front of the bookstore across from the small custom works boutique. If he could just sneak into the shop without being spotted, Will would be home free and safe from being caught. 

He peeked his head out of the restroom door and didn’t spot either his friend or girlfriend. Will quickly made his way out and started down the small hallway back into the mall’s central part. He stopped every few steps to make sure he wasn’t going to get caught. 

Panic hit for a bit when he had to dive into the store because he heard Magnus laughing somewhere near him. Will didn’t have time to check where it was coming from and the abrupt entrance earned him judging and questioning looks from the attendant. 

“I’m here to pick up a custom order?” Will stated, regaining his balance as he brushed himself off. “It’s under Heronstairs.” 

“Jem, right?” the teen behind the desk asked. 

“No, my boyfriend placed the order, but I’m picking it up,” Will explained, walking to the counter. “I’m Will. Jem should’ve added me to the order.” 

“Ah yes, apologies, we try to make sure the products of a certain price and above are securely handed off,” the teen kept on typing away on their computer. “Alright, so you both already paid it completely, so this is just a pick-up. Please wait here; this shouldn’t take more than five minutes.” 

Will watched them go and collect Tessa’s gift, entertaining himself by looking at the small charms and key chains at the checkout counter. 

“Maybe we can find him something here, Magnus.” 

Will heard Tessa say from the entrance of the small store. Luckily the counter wasn’t in view of the door, so he was sure he hadn’t been caught. 

“No, we go there all the time. Trust me, there isn’t something in here I haven’t bought him, or he himself purchased,” Magnus airily replied. “There is this other bookstore I was hoping to check out, though.” 

Will let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he heard their conversation fade away as they walked away. 

“Sir?” the attendant asked. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, sorry,” Will recovered, waving the teen off. 

“Okay…” the teen looked at Will skeptically and started to type away on the computer once again before the printer next to it went off. “So please sign here. That is our copy, and this one is yours. Everything is wrapped in the box you both requested, and if for some reason within the first three months something is wrong with the design or bookmark itself, please bring it back with your receipt.” 

“Thank you,” Will nodded along and signed the copy over, taking the bag and receipt from the attendant. 

“Of course, sir. Have a good holiday.” 

Will exited, package in hand, and started to make a straight line to the mall’s parking lot exit. He still didn’t want to chance Tessa catching him. Will safely made it to his car and took the neatly wrapped present out of the package, quickly snapping a picture and sending it to his boyfriend. 

<Will - 17:29>:

<MMS MESSAGE>

I got it!!!!

She doesn’t even suspect a thing!

<JemofmyEye - 17:29>:

On a possibly related side note, you're not allowed to call Alec ‘Lightworm’ at this year’s Christmas party.

<Will - 17:30>:

And why in the world would I agree to this!?!?!?

<JemofmyEye - 17:31>:

<MMS MESSAGE>

Will huffed and opened the picture message from Jem. It was a text conversation between Magnus and Jem. 

<Jem - 16:54>:

I need to ask a favor, please.

<Magnus Bane - 16:54>:

Considering I am currently with Tessa. What did Will do?

<Jem - 16:56>:

He is currently picking up a present we got together for Tessa, but it’s at the mall you both are at.

<Magnus Bane - 16:56>:

I haven’t seen him.

<Jem - 16:56>:

Last I knew, he was hiding in the restroom.

<Magnus Bane - 16:57>:

So what do you want me to do? I still need to find Alexander a gift.

<Jem - 16:57>:

Just keep Tessa away from Nephilim Designs, please.

<Magnus Bane - 16:57>:

While that doesn’t seem too tricky, it will cost you.

<Jem - 16:59>:

I can't do anything for you. I'm currently at work.

<Magnus Bane - 17:00>:

I was thinking more of the lines Will not call Alexander Lightworm anymore.

<Jem - 17:00>:

I can’t guarantee that. Gabriel, Gideon, and he have been going about it for years now; you know that. Not even Cecily got him to stop. I can convince him to drop it for the Christmas party, though.

<Magnus Bane - 17:02>:

Christmas Party and you have to babysit Chairman Meow when Alec and I visit his parents for a week for New Years’.

<Jem - 17:02>:

Deal.

Will groaned and clicked back into the chat with his boyfriend. Now he understood why Magnus steered away from the shop.

<Will - 17:35>: 

It’s fine. I don’t talk to Alec that much anyway. Just remind me. 

Church won’t be happy about the extra guest, though. 

<JemofmyEye - 17:36>:

He will manage for a few days. I have to go. We are getting the late rush.

Drive safe. 

<Will - 17:36>: 

Don’t let them bully you with foam! 

Love you, see you at home.

<JemofmyEye - 17:37>:

Love you too. 

[unmanageable-day]

By your side | 05

previously ➺ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

You were applying your skincare routine and just getting started with your coral blush when someone rang the bell. You found it odd, because you never had a guest on weekends, let alone in the morning. Or at least before lunch time. The bell rang twice, making you rush to open the door.

"Coming," you shouted at the door.

You lost all words when Johnny appeared behind your door, looking as fine as you could remember although he simply wore a sweater and a pair of jeans. "Johnny, what are you..."

"May I come in?" he calmly asked. He was so quiet you almost can't recognize him. The Johnny you used to know was the bubbly, giggly, cheerful and talkative Johnny whenever and wherever.

"Yeah, sure." You opened the door wider for him. Without words, you watched him take off his shoes, waited for him to follow you entering your studio apartment, and gestured him to sit down on the couch. "Coffee? Tea?" you offered.

He smiled. He knew you knew he loved coffee more than anything, yet he also knew caffeine was never on your grocery shopping list. This kind of simple little thing sometimes made him unexpectedly miss you even more. "Anything is fine," he answered.

"Then yujacha it is," you concluded, smiling back at him. You excused yourself to make his drink. "So, why are you here?" you casually asked from the pantry, not even bothered to look at his direction.

"I want to see you." He took a pause, unsure to blurt it out or not. He approached you to the pantry, and managed to get in your way, standing before you. "Because, uh.. I miss you." There. He said it. Not very loud. But it was quite clear.

You made an 'oh' sound with your expression getting puzzled. Not quite the reaction he was expecting, which he had to accept. He had to swallow his disappointment, yet he couldn't complain since he was the one to end your relationship.

"I miss you too, Johnny," you responded. But the smile on your lips was not as genuine as before. As when you learned how sweet Johnny was with his words and actions.

You passed him through his side without saying anything. You silently put two cups of yujacha on the table in front of the couch.

Behind you, Johnny followed your steps back to the living room, feeling uneasy. His eyes were tracing all over your outfit; a summer dress he recognized that Sooyoung bought you for your birthday but he himself never saw you wearing that—which he had to admit you looked stunning and it went great with your name, as well with your rosy cheeks. He also noticed your neglected make up kit on the small table beside the TV. "Are you going somewhere?" he asked.

"Yeah, I was actually getting ready to go out, but then you came. So, yeah.."

He automatically looked apologetic, but the feelings were mixed. He felt bad to disturb you. But he couldn't help to worry about who you were going with. Could it be... Jung Jaehyun?

"Don't worry," you quickly said as you tied your hair into a messy bun before a word slipped out of his mouth. "It's not like I have important meeting." You quickly tidied up your small table, put it in your bed room, then grabbed an outerwear to cover the revealing skin of your shoulders, arms, and upper chest. Soon, you joined him on the couch. "So, is there anything I can do for you?"

Still, he can't feel relieved. Especially when you made it sound like he only visited for his interest only. Can't he just casually come visit you like a friend?

"Is it okay if we hang out today?" Johnny encouraged himself to make himself clear, at least for the time being. "No need to go outside. Just chillin' here. Just you and me. Just like you wanted to do." He ended his words in hesitation. He might realize it was not wise to bring up the things you wanted to do back in the days.

It just made you ask yourself. 'Like what I wanted to do'? Do I still want to do that?

But the soft side in you gave in. You said yes to Johnny, even if it meant that you had to cancel your plan for the rest of the day. You already made a messy bun anyways, and you hadn't gone all the way for your daily makeup. These excuses were enough to stay at home.

Except Johnny was with you.

Johnny offered to use his Netflix account, and in return you let him decide what to watch. You didn't have much interest in movies and TV shows anyway. So you just sat there, with a distance of two pillows away from Johnny, your eyes on either the TV screen or your phone. Mainly your phone actually. Sometimes Johnny would start small talks about whatever scene displayed. However, since you weren't very responsive, he gave up on talking with you. He let his mind wander around where and how it went wrong between him and you, while still trying to watch the TV series Doyoung recommended to him. Being the multi-tasking person he was, he would also caught you drown in your own world as your hands were stuck with your phone, your thumbs busy typing although you could still face him and talk to him.

Eventually, the only sound heard in the room was from the TV. You and Johnny were in the same room, sitting on the same couch, yet Johnny felt like he was alone. As the TV series went on, the more Johnny lost his focus on his sight. He no longer watched the TV. He was staring blankly at nothing. The dialogue from the TV started to sound like murmurs in his ears. His mind was rather going back to recall the moment he spilled everything on you. The moment he shouldn't have said whatever he said.

Now he had better understanding of what mere physically exist means. This was it. Only your body was sitting there. Probably his presence there didn't matter at all to you. Or maybe worse, you didn’t even want him there.

This had never happened before.

Just because you were being a bit more quiet than usual when you went out with him and his friends, the audacity he had to say that you were just ‘existing’. He didn't even bother to ask why. Maybe he did, once or twice, but because you said you were fine so he just bought it. Johnny wanted to mock and laugh at himself. Taeyong would love to do it for his dear best friend.

"Johnny?" you called. Loud enough to snap him back to reality from being in a daze.

"Sorry, I almost dozed off." He faked his blinking and yawning. "Oh, it's evening already," he mumbled as he diverted his eyes to your window.

"Yeah," you shortly uttered. You silently untied your bun and let your hair fall freely, then you tucked some strands behind your left ear. Your expression was difficult for him to read. You were neither smiling, nor frowning. You just sat there, still holding your phone. Johnny had never seen you occupied with a gadget to this extent.

"We should have done this more often," he quietly spoke, looking at your direction to find your eyes. He could see you were still not used to him being a homebody like this. It was very understandable as you always accompanied him almost wherever he went out. You barely had dates at home, or just nice brunch dates without having to meet many people. You can even count how many times Johnny visited your home. This time was probably the fourth or fifth time. "Instead of going out to clubs, or to some parties," he continued, mumbling. There were some regret heard from his intonation.

You finally put your phone away. You had been texting non-stop during the whole episodes, and Johnny noticed that, causing him to lose concentration.

"Hey, it's fine. I had fun too meeting your friends." You tried to boost his mood. It was very odd to see him down.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"It's already in the past. Don't think about it anymore."

Johnny didn't respond. If there was one thing he just realized, it would be the idea of you being relieved that everything about you and himself now was already in the past. And how much you emphasized that, as if you didn't want him in the present time. This was another wake up call for Johnny, that he messed up real bad in his relationship with you.

The silence between you and him was another thing that was uncommon. The first and the last time you experienced this kind of mood was the break up day. It was uncomfortable when you were reminded of it. You got up and pretend to search for something edible on your fridge beside banchan and the raw foods. It never slipped on your mind to ask him stay for dinner although it was past 7 PM. Even you skipped lunch because you didn't bother to offer him a meal, and he didn't say anything about it either, so you ended up snacking your last fruit stock. Now you only had some leftover of kimbab from yesterday in the fridge. You closed the refrigerator door hopelessly and got back to the living room to find Johnny already get up on his feet.

"I should go home," he calmly said.

"Oh, okay." Then you walked him to the front door without any small talk or whatsoever.

Johnny wished you would ask him to stay, or ask him why leaves so soon instead of saying okay right away. It felt like you had been waiting for him to go.

I want to hug her, he screamed inside as he had to control his body from jumping towards you and making you sink in his embrace. He stood before you wordlessly, with his mind contemplating between asking your permission for a hug, suppressing his desire to take you in his arms, or not giving a damn and just pull you into a bear hug.

"Johnny? Is there something wrong?" you asked, tilting your head to one side.

"Can I... can I hug you?" he shyly confessed, while his eyes unusually looking at the floor. Three seconds had passed without any response from you and it already tortured him. "Anyway, never mind. Don't listen to me." He waved his hand to the air before putting them in his pocket.

Your feet shifted closer to his. To his surprise, you placed your hands on the both sides of his waist, your side head resting on his chest as if you were listening to his heartbeat. Just when he was about to tighten the embrace, you abruptly let go of him due to your phone ringing loudly, leaving Johnny frozen in his spot with the remaining fruity scent from your shampoo.

"Oh, hi, Taeyong." He heard you speaking over the phone.

Taeyong again? Johnny pursed his lips. He was so in a big trouble.

"Yes, Johnny's here with me. We're in my house. It's fine. Okay, I'll see you around."

You hung up the call then folded your arms. "Taeyong is looking for you."

"I know. I should really go now."

You nodded.

"Thank you for today," he said as he put on his shoes. Just before he headed out, he turned back to you. "Can I come over again?"

You wore your pokerface, unconsciously making Johnny feel uneasy. "It would be better if you ring me up first."

Johnny nodded lightly. "Okay, I will."

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 02/47

“What are you going to do?”

Rey shrugged, unable to respond. She stirred the verbena tea in her mug mechanically, avoiding the look Jessica was giving her. After a long silence interrupted only by slurping her scalding drink.

“I dunno. Leave?” She said softly.

Jessica’s eyes widened. She had never seen Rey quite like this. Physically, sure—Jessica had seen her disheveled, her eyes red from crying so much, and bags forming under them from the lack of sleep. But it wasn’t just that. Rey was having an emotional breakdown so violent that even her best friend and confidante couldn’t seem to comfort her.

That Saturday in June had been magnificent. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of summer blooms; they could hear children were laughing in the street, taking advantage of the final hours of the day. As evening fell on London, the sky streaked gold and crimson. It should have been perfect for a wedding.

Until last week, Rey’s life had been perfect. She had a marvelous job as Happiness Manager™ in a posh startup in Uptown, her gorgeous fiancé Finn who cherished her, her lovely flat on Betterton Street, her absolute gift of seeing the best in everyone she met, and her extensive collection of Irregular Choice pumps.

And then everything had collapsed.

Finn had left her, and Rey had lost her wedding, her flat, and her smile, in that order.

She kept the job and the shoe collection. At least she had those, thought Jessica, never the cynic.

She took Rey’s hand gently.

“You can come live with me as long as you want,”

Rey looked up, emerging from her thoughts. Even tear-stained she was still beautiful, with hazel eyes and freckled cheeks. Rey shook her head.

“That’s kind of you. I’ll take you up on it when I get back. But I’m talking about leaving to catch my plane tomorrow.”

“What plane?”

“My honeymoon. The flight to Denver is tomorrow noon. The ticket has already been paid for and it’s non-refundable, I’ve already asked for two weeks off. Married or not, it’s easier to fly there.”

“Alone? I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Rey. You’re shell shocked and miserable, it doesn’t sound like a good idea to go to the U.S. for two whole weeks in your state.”

Rey got up, running a hand through her hair. She hadn’t brushed it in forever and the split ends resisted her fingers.

“Exactly! I don’t have anything to lose. I don’t have the bloke or the flat, I have to pay for the wedding venue, the DJ, and the caterers for nothing. Two weeks of vacation for the first time in ages seems pretty reasonable. And frankly, I don’t have the courage to show up to work tomorrow and face my coworkers and their questions. Travelling can help change my mind about this! Today was supposed to be my wedding day. The best day of my life--” her voice fractured into a sob, shoulders sagging. “And he left me, the bastard…”

Jessica rose and Rey leaned against her, letting the tears flow because she could no longer hold them in. What the blazes had gotten into Finn?

Last Monday he called Rey and told her it was better to call the wedding off. She refused to even think about it, obviously. Everything was ready, all the invites confirmed, the catering paid for, and most importantly, they had been together for four years now. This wedding was the ultimate symbol of their love for each other, right? Finn had launched into a monologue about how much he had really loved her, blah, blah, blah, but .

There had been a but .

There was always a but, when going down the aisle.

This but was Poe, his best friend. Poe had admitted his feeling for Finn before he could marry someone else for the rest of his life and thus become the one that got away.  And this declaration of love was a revelation for Finn. He reexamined his life like a film, his childhood, his social awkwardness, the teasing he endured in school, crushing on his teammates on the football team—and he had an epiphany. He was in love with Poe! And he was going to marry Rey in a week.  The wait transformed into something utterly terrifying (and full of an anguish that he passed off as emotionality ). He was going to destroy his life, but what else could he possibly do? Marry her and string her along even when he knew his heart belonged to someone else? Rey deserved the truth, at the very least. But that would mean breaking her heart, dashing her hopes of their future, and—priorities, priorities—calling off the ceremony.

Baffled, Rey broke down at Jessica’s place. Jessica was then put in charge of informing guests of the cancellation. A disappointing and painful task which she took on for the sake of her friend.

Finn sent a couple texts asking to pick up some of his clean laundry, and Jessica told him he had no chance in hell. He could very well wear Poe’s stuff!

But that couldn’t go on forever. He had to come back at some point to handle moving out, doing all the joint paperwork, and splitting their bank accounts, financially speaking. The figurative splitting would come later, of course.  Priorities first!

Rey resumed her place on the canape cushions and brought the mug to her lips. Jess sat facing her.

“Rey, it’s a bad idea to go alone. You’re shattered right now and that’s completely understandable. I get it.  But I want you to avoid getting snookered in foreign territory,”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Rey replied. She straightened her gaze and her eyes held a new confidence.  “A change would do me some good. The more I think about it the more I see it’s the most intelligent thing to do. I’ll go off for two weeks, alone,  and do this whole road trip. I’ll see the country, meet some new people, clear my mind, and come back ready to confront it all…all the obstacles waiting for me. But in all seriousness, I need a break.”

Jessica pursed her lips, considering the arguments. Rey continued:

“Do you want to stay in the apartment for me? Finn wants to collect some of his stuff. That way he can do it in my absence. I don’t even want to consider running into Poe.”

“Fine,” Jessica conceded. “I’ll stay here while you’re gone and help Finn move. But only if you let me give him a proper beating,”

Rey laughed, for the first time in days.  Her cheeks regained color, and for a second she looked alive and well again.

“Anything you want, but can I ask another favor? Can you drop me off at the airport tomorrow?” (more after the cut)

Rey grimaced, stifled by the burning heat of the airport parking garage. She’d gone through a grand total of ten hours of flight, seven hours of jet lag, three liters of tears, six boxes of tissue paper, and yet she had zero idea of what to do now.

She passed customs ("yes it's my first time in the United States, yes I have repatriation insurance, no I’m not here for work, no I was not a Nazi in 1945") and  picked up her suitcase from baggage claim. She remained dazed for a few minutes afterward, contemplating the swarm of vehicles and travelers. Behind her, the sliding doors let out a breath of air-conditioning every time they opened for a visitor.

Rey was overrun with fatigue, but she had to hold on for a few more hours. First of all: find a taxi, then, check into the hotel, and then she could finally crumble.

The wait for the taxi wasn’t long once she found the departure area. She gave the hotel’s address and finally allowed herself to breathe. Everything was different here, a vast, dry stretch of yellow prairie and red dust.  In the distance, she could see the blue outline of the Rockies, and in front of her the multilane motorway (she supposed she should call it a highway like the Americans) stretched out towards the silhouette of the Denver skyline.

A second later, the driver’s voice dragged her from her slumber. She had fallen asleep without even realizing. The woman pointed out the hotel entrance, retrieved her suitcase from the boot, and just stood there, waiting.

Rey hesitated. Was she supposed to do something?

Suddenly, it dawned on her that she needed a tip, and she realized with horror that she didn’t have a single dollar in her pocket. In her rush to leave she hadn’t bothered to exchange currencies yet. With a mixture of shame and confusion, she handed the woman ten quid, spluttering that she could always exchange it. The woman grimaced and got back into the car without taking the money. Rey heard her swear very distinctly and she chewed on her lip in remorse. She had to get her act together! Grabbing her suitcase with her left hand, she rushed across the pedestrian crossing toward the Four Seasons entrance.

She didn’t so much see as hear the car that bumped into her.

The massive black pickup halted in a screech of tires and Rey’s suitcase bounced against the chrome bull bar. Stupefied, she stared at her suitcase on the ground. The side was smashed in and the handle twisted, she then looked up to the vehicle that had sprung to her left.

The door opened and a man stepped out. The first thought Rey had was that he was the spitting image of his car: towering, dark, and aggressive.

He reached her in two strides.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You threw yourself at my car! Don’t you think you should look before crossing?!”

“I—I’m sorry,” Rey sputtered.

She tried to smile to appease her interlocutor, but felt tears come to her eyes.

“I’m British, I just got here. I looked at the wrong side of the road,”

He assessed her from head to toe, and after ensuring that she had broken nothing apart from her suitcase, verified that there was no damage done to his pickup. Rey thought that it was so big that it could have broken in half without even feeling the aftershock.

Essentially, the vehicle was intact. The man ran a hand through his long, dark hair, and bent over to retrieve the twisted handle of Rey’s rolling suitcase, which he handed to her. Then he turned around and got back into the imposing pickup.

“ Fucking tourists ,” he muttered as he closed the door.

He roared the engine and Rey wondered what he was compensating for with such a huge car. She imagined the vehicle in the narrow, winding streets of London and suppressed a burst of laughter. He wouldn’t even make it past the first intersection and that would be quite the disaster!

A loud honk made her jump. She was still standing in the middle of the road, suitcase in hand. Gathering herself, still processing the shock that she was nearly killed less than an hour into her vacation; she trotted across the crossing to the hotel.

She turned around just in time to see the pickup and its obnoxious owner in the distance. There was a “KYLO REN” bumper sticker on the back and she wondered what it meant. A rock band, maybe?

“Moron!”

She stuck her tongue out at him, a feeble reconciliation considering this disastrous encounter, and took a deep breath.

“Alright, cheer up! Happy vacation from now on. It can only get better from here, from right now…I hope…” *** Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

[junghelioseok]

change. | 08

↳ a kind, handsome stranger makes you question your deteriorating relationship.

◇ taehyung x reader | jungkook x reader ◇ angst | smut | fluff ◇ 4.4k [8/10]

warnings: angst. almost smut. a teeny bit of rough treatment.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | epilogue ✓

You can’t concentrate.

For the past two hours, you’re fairly certain that the only thing you’ve accomplished is opening your email inbox and rereading the same seventeen unread subject lines. The apple you’d grabbed on your way out the door sits on a napkin, untouched, and your coffee—freshly brewed this morning—has long since gone cold.

Today is Friday, which would normally be cause for celebration. The first four days of the workweek had passed in a haze of monotony, and when you’d glanced at the calendar this morning, you’d nearly dropped your mug. But instead of looking forward to the weekend—and the holidays—like the rest of the world, you are dreading tomorrow’s arrival.

Tomorrow, you are supposed to get on a train back to your hometown. Tomorrow, Jungkook is supposed to meet your family.

And yet, Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

Your phone sits at your elbow, the screen black and silent. You’d finally worked up the nerve to call your boyfriend last night after downing two glasses of wine, but to your dismay, there had been no answer. You wonder if he’s even listened to the voicemail you’d left, but a cynical little voice in your head tells you that you already know the answer. He hasn’t even responded to your last eight texts, it says mockingly. Why would he listen to your voicemail now?

Sighing, you tell the voice to kindly shut the fuck up and return to the task at hand. Clicking open the first email, you read through it, fingers tapping on the edge of the keyboard as you formulate your answer. Going through your inbox is routine and familiar, and you finally manage to get Jungkook off your mind as you respond to all the emails that need your attention and forward along the ones that do not.

Just as you open up the last one, your phone buzzes atop your desk. The vibration is startlingly loud against the wooden surface, and for one brief, shining moment you think that perhaps Jungkook has finally come around. But when you glance down at the lit screen, your boyfriend’s name isn’t the one that’s displayed there. Instead, Taehyung’s name flashes up at you in bold black letters, your phone buzzing again as a second message comes in immediately after the first.

[11:01am] Taehyung: IMG_0027.jpg

[11:01am] Taehyung: tan made a new friend today!

Curiosity piqued, you click on the attachment, smiling when a familiar little Pomeranian pops up onto the screen. Next to Yeontan is another dog—a brown and white creature with liquid eyes and soft, floppy ears. Another message pops up below the photo, and you scroll down to read it.

[11:02am] Taehyung: his name is mickey! he’s cute, right?

Very, you write back. What are you and Tan up to today?

Three dots appear at the bottom of your screen, indicating his incoming response. Taehyung has been texting you all week, sending anything from new jokes he’s heard to pictures of art that he’s considering for his gallery. You’d readily welcomed the distraction from your troubles, and any and all thoughts of Jungkook are shoved to the very back of your mind when your phone vibrates again.

[11:04am] Taehyung: hoseok’s visiting studio v. mickey’s his dog!

Imagining the cheery red-haired artist with the fluffy puppy makes you smile. So the new exhibit is going well? you query.

[11:06am] Taehyung: amazingly well! remember this?

[11:06am] Taehyung: IMG_0028.jpg

Your breath catches in your throat when you click open the photograph, taking in the familiar lines and colors. You recognize the painting, of course—the two hands with their interlaced fingers, delicate green vines with red blossoms wound around their arms. Beneath the canvas sits a little brass placard, the words “Love in Bloom” carved in delicate strokes. Hoseok must have finished it at last, and you can’t help the way your cheeks warm when you remember the way he’d misinterpreted your relationship with Taehyung. It looks like your girlfriend likes it too. Hoseok’s voice echoes in your mind, reverberating like a tolling bell. Something shifts in the pit of your belly, warm and effervescent.

Shaking your head, you dismiss the odd sensation and open up your phone’s keyboard to respond. How could I forget? you type. Tell him it looks wonderful!

[11:08am] Taehyung: you should drop by and tell him yourself! he’ll be around for the rest of the day, helping set up the new exhibit with some of his other work

[11:09am] You: How about a raincheck? I’ll come see it after the holidays, I promise

[11:10am] Taehyung: i’m holding you to that :)

Time flies by as you continue chatting with Taehyung, and before you know it, the sun is beginning to sink toward the horizon. Saying your goodbyes, you shut down your computer and shrug on your coat, offering your colleagues well wishes and waves goodbye as you step outside into the cool wintry air.

Your commute home is short. The sight of your apartment building is a welcome relief, and you want nothing more than to collapse in bed as soon as you cross the threshold. But when you exit the elevator onto your floor, you are met with an unexpected surprise. A familiar figure is leaning against the wall, his dark wool coat a stark contrast to the beige walls of the hallway. His head is lowered as he scrolls purposefully through his phone, black hair flopping over his forehead, but you know his partially obscured face almost better than you know your own. “J-Jungkook?” you ask, your voice coming out in a shaky warble as you take in the sight of your boyfriend. “What… what are you doing here?”

Jungkook straightens up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and raising the white plastic bag in his free hand, the distinctive logo of your favorite takeout place outlined in bright colors. “I brought dinner,” he begins, brown eyes tentatively flickering up to meet yours. “I thought you might be hungry. Can I… can I come in?”

Slowly, you take a step closer to the dark-haired man. “How long have you been here?”

“Not too long.” He checks his watch. “Ten minutes, maybe? I came straight from work.”

“Mm. I figured as much. I’m surprised you left the office earlier than I did.”

Jungkook huffs out a noise that’s caught somewhere between a dry chuckle and a sigh. “Yeah.” Then he pauses, fiddling with the handles of the bag still dangling from his wrist. “So, uh. Can I come in?”

You hesitate. Jungkook fidgets with the edge of his sleeve, and immediately, your eyes are drawn to the movement. Your gaze rakes across him, taking in the ruffled state of his hair, no doubt from all the times he’s raked his hand through it. You notice just how wrinkled his suit lapels are, and the crooked knot of his tie.

And then you step past him and pull out your keys. “Yeah. Sure.”

It only takes a few seconds to unlock the front door of your apartment, stepping inside with Jungkook on your heels. He follows your lead as you hang up your coat and trudges after you into the kitchen, grabbing some plates from the cabinet while you fetch two glasses of water and hand him one. He takes a long sip before beginning to unbox the takeout, and, silently, you join him at the counter to help spoon some orange chicken onto a plate. The two of you work in silence for several minutes, broken only by the rattle of silverware.

“I feel like I’m losing you,” Jungkook suddenly blurts, dropping the box he’s holding with a thump and turning to face you. He hesitates for a few seconds, gnawing on his bottom lip before his eyes flicker up to meet yours again. “I just… I’ve really missed you, {Name}. This past week has been hard—and I know a lot of that’s my fault. But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t think I could bear losing you.” Gently, he reaches out, grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together.

There’s something glimmering in his expression, something soft and affectionate that sets your heart aflutter. Jungkook’s hand is warm and solid around yours, and the pressure is so familiar and comforting that it takes you a few seconds to gather your thoughts enough to respond. “I—I’ve missed you too,” you confess after a moment’s hesitation. “But I texted you. I called you. And you didn’t answer.”

“I know,” he says, whisper-soft. “I’m sorry.”

His thumb is stroking along the ridges of your knuckles now, the motion tender and soothing in its repetition. Swallowing, you tamp down the urge to step closer and let his hands circle your waist. Instead, you ask a question—one that has been on your mind for days now.

“Why?”

There are a multitude of questions hiding behind that singular word, of course. Why didn’t you reply to my texts or return my calls? Why wouldn’t you listen to me that night when I told you about Taehyung? Why are you here now? And Jungkook must sense the hidden depths in your question, because he doesn’t respond straight away. Rather, he tugs you toward your living room, settling onto the couch and pulling you down beside him. Once you’ve both gotten comfortable—or at least as comfortable as you can get while waiting for his answer—he finally speaks, sucking in a deep breath first and exhaling the words in a rush.

“I’m sorry” he repeats, his eyes darting between your twined hands and your face, as if gauging your expression. “I should’ve called you sooner. I—I shouldn’t have hung up on you that night. I just—” Jungkook heaves a sigh, his shoulders slumping forward. “I overreacted. I’ve been a real asshole, and I’m sorry. But... I think we can make this work, {Name}. I want to make this work.”

The earnestness shimmering in his gaze makes your heart clench, and when you give his hand a soft squeeze, the smile that blooms across his face is positively radiant.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks hopefully.

You let your gaze rake over his face again—taking in his strong brows and prominent nose and the soft curl of his lips. A lock of dark hair flops over his forehead lazily, and you resist the urge to brush it away for all of three seconds before giving in. “You owe me a weeks’ worth of dates,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice stern as you sweep his hair out of his eyes.

“Two,” he breathes back, leaning into your touch. “Or three. However many you want.”

You smile. “And you have to be extra nice to my parents tomorrow.”

That draws a soft chuckle from him. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of being anything but.”

“Then that’s a good start.” Delicately, you let your fingers smooth across the sharp line of his jaw. He nestles his cheek into your palm, and when he turns to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, a delighted shiver runs down the length of your spine.

You’ve missed him—there’s no doubt in your mind about that. Jungkook has been a constant presence in your life for the past year, and his company—when you have it—is solid and reassuring. After countless dates and quiet, intimate evenings, you know him almost as well as you know yourself. And whenever doubts about your relationship rise up in your chest, he always manages to sweep them away with a few words or a sweet embrace.

Jungkook is in the process of laying three more kisses along the inside of your arm, soft lips moving up to the crook of your elbow before he pulls back and glances up at you. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice dipping in pitch.

Your fingers are still twined with his, so instead of answering, you simply give his hand another squeeze. Jungkook’s face melts into a toothy grin, and he doesn’t waste any more time as he cups your cheek and brings you in for a long, lingering kiss.

You’re breathless by the time you pull apart again, lungs fighting for lost air. But Jungkook is still grinning, prominent teeth on full display, and you can’t help but smile back at the sight. His fingers smooth from your cheek down to the line of your jaw, caressing the skin there before sliding around to the back of your neck and bringing you in for another kiss. His mouth slants across yours, and when his tongue darts out to swipe at the seam of your lips, you let out a breathy sigh and let him in.

It isn’t long before you find yourself pressed into the cushions of your couch, a smirking Jungkook hovering above you with one hand on either side of your head. Leaning down, he nips at the sensitive spot on your neck, teeth digging a bruise into the skin just above your clavicle before soothing it with his hot tongue. Nimble fingers find their way to the buttons of your blouse, sliding them free and running across the newly exposed skin in slow, ardent caresses. His thumbs hook beneath the cups of your bra to find the sensitive peaks of your breasts, squeezing at the soft flesh.

When you arch up into him—seeking more contact—Jungkook lets out a hoarse chuckle. “So pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss just above your bellybutton. You sigh at the feeling of his lips against your skin, and when he straightens up again, you take the opportunity to push his suit jacket off his shoulders. He shrugs it off the rest of the way, tossing it over the back of the couch carelessly, and you set to work on his tie. The silky material slips easily between your fingers, and when you loosen it enough, he grabs your wrist to help wrench it over his head.

Just as you are about to undo the first button of his white shirt, there is a knock on the door. Jungkook raises a questioning brow, and you shrug, equally taken aback.

“I’ll get it,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth and running a quick hand through his hair as he stands. “Be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

You hum in assent, sitting up from the couch and straightening out your rumpled blouse. Jungkook disappears down the hallway, and you listen as he opens up the front door and greets whoever is standing there.

The voice that responds is deep and resonant and devastatingly familiar, and the sound of it sends you flying up and off the couch. Hurriedly, you fix your clothes as you tiptoe toward the hall, peering carefully around the corner. You can just barely make out a head of coppery hair behind Jungkook’s frame silhouetted in the open doorway, and when your visitor speaks again, your suspicions are all but confirmed.

“Sorry if I have the wrong apartment. Do you happen to know where a Miss {Full Name} lives?”

“If you’re looking for {Name}, you’ve got the right place,” Jungkook replies, shifting slightly so that you finally get a glimpse of the man standing on your welcome mat. Taehyung—because of course it’s Taehyung—looks incredibly out of place in the rather drab hallway of your building. He’s wearing an undoubtedly expensive tailored coat and a silky floral shirt tucked neatly into loose black slacks, and the sight of him is enough to knock all the air out of your lungs and send you reeling. Quickly, you take several steps back into the safety of your living room, ensuring that you can still listen to the conversation. “Are you a friend of hers?” you hear Jungkook ask.

“Oh! Yes, I am—I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Taehyung. And you are...?”

“Jungkook,” Jungkook says tersely. A beat of silence follows, and you can’t even begin to imagine what is going through both men’s minds as they digest this new information.

After what seems like an eternity, Taehyung clears his throat. “I just wanted to stop by,” he explains, and you hear the rustle of a paper bag as he shifts uncomfortably. “{Name} mentioned that she had a bit of a rough day, so I brought over some pastries from the bakery down the street.”

“I’ll see that she gets th—” Jungkook begins to say, but you choose that moment to walk over, slipping easily around Jungkook and making your presence known.

“Taehyung?” you ask, as if you haven’t been listening in on the conversation the whole time. “I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing here?”

Said man smiles at your appearance, raising the paper bag in his hand. “Hey, {Name}. I wanted to… uh...” He trails off as he takes in your appearance for the first time—the mussed hair and rumpled clothing no doubt giving away your activities prior to his arrival. When you glance down, self-conscious, you notice that your buttons aren’t even correctly aligned. And when you chance a look at Jungkook, you immediately notice his lopsided collar as well. Nevertheless, Taehyung takes a deep breath and bravely forges on. “When you mentioned that you had a bad day earlier, I thought I’d bring over some of those custard tarts you like. Sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure, subtly trying to fix your hair though you suspect your efforts are in vain. “Thank you for thinking of me; you really didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

Taehyung shrugs halfheartedly, gaze flickering briefly over to Jungkook, who is still hovering behind you. “It’s no trouble at all,” he says with a weak smile, handing the paper bag over. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Have... have a good night. And happy holidays—to both of you.”

“Happy holidays,” you echo. And something inside your chest constricts painfully when Taehyung offers you one last tiny smile before turning on his heel and heading for the elevators. Almost reluctantly, you shut the door behind him, paper bag swinging from one hand as you turn to look at Jungkook. There’s some emotion that you can’t quite place simmering in his dark eyes, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows. You wait, patiently, for him to speak.

“So that’s Taehyung,” he manages at last, his voice tight. “The guy you were with at the market.”

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. “Yeah.”

Jungkook fiddles with the hem of his white button-up, which has long since freed itself from his waistband. “You didn’t mention that he’s good-looking.”

“Jungkook,” you begin in a placating tone, dropping the bag and taking a step closer to him. “Stop, please, we’re just friends—”

“Maybe so,” Jungkook snaps, forehead wrinkling as his brows furrow. “But I’m not an idiot, {Name}, I saw the way he looked at you. He wants more than your friendship—are you fucking blind?”

Your eyes narrow. “Don’t speak to me like that, Jungkook.”

“Or maybe you do see it,” the dark-haired man continues, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. “Maybe you see it, and you want him too. Hell, I’m at the office all the time anyway, so you may as well live it up with this Taehyung guy, right? Christ.” He rakes a hand through his hair, a humorless smile twitching his lips upward. “Maybe I should’ve seen this coming.”

He’s really getting angry now. You can see the hard set of his jaw and the way his hands are balled up into fists, and when you look at his face, you almost flinch back at the intensity of his gaze. “This… this is insane,” you say weakly, discomfort squirming in the pit of your stomach. “He’s just a friend, and we’ve only met up a few times—”

“A few times,” Jungkook echoes, barking out a wry laugh. “Like I’m going to believe that.”

“I don’t care what you believe!” you cry, surprising both yourself and Jungkook. He jerks back at your outburst, eyes widening, but you are too far gone to stop. It’s as if an invisible barrier has crumbled down, releasing all the irritation that’s been building, potent and heavy, in your chest.

“{Name},” Jungkook tries to say, but you interrupt, your index finger jabbing him none too gently in the chest.

“No, you listen!” you demand. Your voice is too loud, even to your ears, but you press on nonetheless. “I’ve only seen Taehyung four times, you know that? And that includes the first time we met! Not to mention that we never would’ve actually met if you hadn’t stood me up that night at Luxe. Do you even know how long it’s been since we’ve gone on a date?”

“{Name},” Jungkook tries again, a bit louder this time. His fingers close around your wrist, tugging your hand away from his chest, but you wrench away and continue your rant.

“Almost a month and a half! It’s been five weeks, Jungkook, and you almost never call or text me back! Do you know how frustrating that is? I mean, god, it’s like I don’t even have a boyfriend sometimes. Am I just supposed to just wait around for you and mope at home—”

Your tirade is abruptly cut off by two strong hands clamping down on your shoulders, the force enough to send you stumbling back against the closed front door. All the breath is knocked out of your lungs as Jungkook stands before you, face contorted, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as his wild eyes rove across your face. “Stop,” he pants, dark hair falling across his forehead as he presses against you a little harder. “Just… stop.” Your head hits the hard wooden surface behind you, tearing a startled gasp from your throat.

“Jungkook,” you warble, your voice weakening as you try to wriggle free from his ironclad grip. Your shoulders are beginning to ache underneath his fingertips, and, you wonder vaguely if the skin will bruise. “Jungkook, you’re hurting me.”

There is a beat of silence. Then, Jungkook seems to deflate, his arms falling uselessly to his sides as he takes a long step back. “Shit,” he mumbles, distress crumpling his face. “Shit, {Name}. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I-I’m sorry too,” you whisper, straightening up and rubbing at your tender shoulders. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

“You shouldn’t have lost your temper?” Jungkook lets out a disbelieving huff. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. And I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that—Christ, I can’t believe—” Trailing off, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Damn it. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Do you want me to get the first-aid kit from under the sink?”

You stop him with a hand on his forearm. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine, really.”

Jungkook doesn’t look convinced, but stops nonetheless. He glances down at the spot where your fingers are still wrapped around his arm, and for a few moments, everything is perfectly still and silent. You can feel the pulse of his heartbeat in his wrist—strong and steady. A constant, just like he’s been for so long in your life. But maybe it’s time for that to change.

Slowly, you let go—uncurling your fingers one at a time until both of your arms are at your sides once more. “This isn’t working, is it.” It isn’t a question, and, after a few long seconds, Jungkook lets out another sigh. 

“No, I guess it’s not,” he says, and it’s as if an implicit understanding passes between the two of you in that moment.  It’s over. The thought is terrifying, and for a moment you almost want to take it back and throw yourself into the safety of his arms again.

But you don’t move a muscle, and Jungkook does. Silently, you follow him as he turns on his heel and heads back for your living room. You watch as he gathers up his discarded tie and jacket, shoving the first into his pocket and donning the latter. “I wish things could be different,” you murmur, so soft that you almost think he doesn’t hear you. You’re not sure you even wanted him to, but Jungkook’s ears have always been sharp.

“Me too,” he says. He doesn’t turn around from where he’s stopped to stare out the window, gaze riveted on the artificially lit cityscape blanketed by night sky. “I really didn’t… I didn’t think we’d end like this.”

“Bad timing,” you remark, drawing a sardonic chuckle from him.

“The worst.”

You nod. Quietly, you join him at the window, admiring the warm glow of the streetlamps far below. Off in the distance, you can see the train station, lit up like a beacon. Tomorrow, you’ll be heading there to catch a train back home, but you didn’t think you’d be going alone. The thought brings a fresh wave of sadness, one that’s only worsened when Jungkook speaks again.

“I still love you, you know,” he murmurs. “Not enough, maybe. But I do.”

Tears prick your eyes at the raw honesty in his voice. “I know. I love you too. But... we aren’t happy together, Jungkook. We haven’t been happy in a long time.”

He hums, and when you cast a look his way, you see that his eyes have fluttered shut. “I’m sorry,” he says simply, and you pretend not to notice the glistening wetness on his lashes. Instead, you slip your hand into his, the warmth of it as familiar and comforting as ever.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” you tell him gently, and Jungkook nods, opening his eyes and letting you lead him back to the entryway.

“Guess this means we won’t be moving in together anytime soon.” The joke is feeble and halfhearted, but you smile nonetheless as he opens up the front door, pausing on the threshold. You wonder if he’s remembering all the memories you’ve made together over the past year—both the good and the bad times that have made up the course of your relationship.

“I’m going to miss you,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. Some endings, no matter how inevitable, are never easy. Your heart already aches, and when he pulls his hand out of yours, it splinters even more.

“Me too,” Jungkook murmurs. His gaze rakes over your face one last time, as if committing it to memory. “Goodbye, {Name}.”

And for the second time that evening, you find yourself standing in the doorway, watching someone important to you walk away.

Now, you are truly all alone.

[previous][next]

[sylleboi]

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖈 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖏𝖊𝖈𝖙 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖊 | 02/06/20

There are two types of textures;- Implied texture is basically texture that appears to be there, but it’s an illusion.- Actual texture is texture that exists and can be felt by touch.So I have been falling behind with what we as a class have been doing online on Moodle, making it feel increasingly difficult to approach it and get things done since it feels like things just keep piling up, but I have decided to give it a shot and just go for it!

The following message/messages were left for us on the Moodle forum;

01

“Hi guys,

Thanks to those that attended the Zoom meeting this week. Well done.

If you are committed to progressing next year I will need to see the following:

- Post a reply to this thread to show you are checking in with Moodle

- Interact with a least 1 of the summer school activities

- Attendance at ALL subsequent Zoom classes.

- A Conscientious and studious approach to the summer project

The time line for what happens next in terms of your studies will be as follows:

Tuesday 26th May - Summer project posted to Moodle and emailed directly to college emails (This will give you a chance to read/obtain equipment/purchase core text)

Monday 1st June - Zoom Lecture - Reviewing the brief and discussing research activities and practical tasks. Q & A

Monday 8th June - Zoom show & tell - Discussing progress so far / issues / findings / examples / Work in Progress

Monday 15th June - Zoom Break out groups / Smaller discussions

Please if you are in contact with any of your classmates/peers who have not be interacting can you please encourage them to do so, the longer we abstain from learning the harder it will be when we do get back to the 'New normal'.

Happy Wednesday!”

- Post a reply to this thread to show you are checking in with Moodle

I posted a short reply to show that I am active on Moodle.

- Interact with a least 1 of the summer school activities

I am yet to do this, but will be attempting my best to catch up.

- Attendance at ALL subsequent Zoom classes.

I have already failed this, but will attend the Zoom classes schedule ahead.

- A Conscientious and studious approach to the summer project

I will be working towards living up to this over the next few weeks as we work on the Summer School Project.

02

“Hi guys,

Hope you had as good bank holiday, here is the Summer project as promised. 'Comic Book Confidential' is a project that will allow us to start thinking about the type of work we will create in our 2nd year as well as addressing the theoretical and academic ideas we will need to start thinking abound discussing in detail when we return.

This week, I want you to do the following:

- Read the brief thoroughly and write down any questions you may have

- Order your core text book, Scott McCloud's 'Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art'

- Obtain any of the necessary equipment if you do not currently have this

Please ensure you start your research from Stage 1, and begin to write notes for the questions; as I will be asking you to relay your new knowledge next Monday (1st June) in our first Zoom lecture/discussion. I will forward an invite in a separate email and on moodle. I look forward to working with you guys on this, it will be a good one.

Best Regards,

David Dixon”

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖈 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖑

The brief;

03

“Hi guys,

Thank you everyone who joined us yesterday for the launch of our Comic Book Confidential Summer Project, there was a great turn out.

I have attached the PDF of the presentation for you to look at and use as a resource.

Please begin stage 1 and make sure for next week you have your viewfinder made and you are able to talk about either a comic book of your choosing or answer some of the questions of stage 1 with clarity.

Any question please post to here and I will answer as soon as possible.

Cheers

DD”

I  missed this zoom call, but got some notes and insight to what was talked about during the call from a peer.

This brief is the first surrounding the topic of sequence art/comics that we have done as a class. Comics can be described as being a “sequence through illustration”; a series of images, sometimes with no dialogue showing an action or conveying a space of time in just a few panels, like glimpses of a film, showing key moments to portray the meaning of the sequence.

On another note, we are allowed to animate the project if we want to.

For this brief/project, we are required to put some form of narrative together, based off of our own personal experiences with the 2020 lockdown, making it a personal project to each of us. It is also required to be non verbal.

During the process of making our comic sequence, a short film showing the process from start to finish.

AIMS:

Make at least 5 comic book pages with at least three panels per page

Build a narrative exploring the ideas of isolation and coming out of lockdown

Understand how to create the passing of time

Explore the basic characteristics of a comic, BASICS!

A series of juxtaposed images creating a narrative or a selection of images.

An aesthetic response to our viewer done using a selection of images in a deliberate sequence. - “Sequence art”

Can we link this back to year 1?

I did a workshop at the very beginning of the year (19/09/19) called Fragments/Clips. It focused on experimental editing and making something unconventional with what resources we were given, much like we are asked to do with this brief; creating comic strips from the resources we find within and around us.

𝕶𝖊𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘:

We can find our own if we like but the suggested artists are;

- Hokusai

- Aiden Koch

- Sam Elston - former student from our course that will be visiting us.

Can you define what a comic is in your own words?

Comics can be described as being a “sequence through illustration”; a series of images, sometimes with no dialogue showing an action or conveying a space of time in just a few panels, like glimpses of a film, showing key moments to portray the meaning of the sequence.

What are the characteristics of a non verbal comic?

The primary characteristic for non verbal comics is the lack of words used. Non verbal comics are told solely through illustrations that, when you “read” it, will come alive like an animation that doesn't move. An example of non verbal communication could be something as simple as a smile, often indicating happiness, or perhaps a lack of expression can indicate boredom or something of a much darker background, like contempt or bloodlust. 

What different forms of comic can you find, and how are they different?

A number of comic genres pop into mind immediately; Science-fiction comics, Superhero comics, Fantasy comics, Teen comics (humour), Adult/Erotic comics, Manga etc. Comics can also come in many different types of mediums, some that I can think of being Webcomics, Graphic Novels and Comic books.

How do comics communicate their messages?

In comics, with both verbal and non verbal communication within them, the major selling point is the illustrative work. Each panel represents a time, with each gap between the panels representing a passing of time. Much like glimpses of a sequence, put together in a harmonic composition with the goal to be compelling to ones eye. The message/messages that the artist want to portray can be executed through visual language; line, shape, form, texture, value and colour. All of these elements play into a successful comic strip.

I will give a simple example of each of these used to convey the same thing;

* Note that all of these will be left as examples and may look a little rough around the edges since they are just there to show the effects of visual language and nothing more.

Line:

Within visual language, line work is one of the most prominent and frequently used across all comic genres. In fact, the earliest comic that has been traced back to being from 1837 is made up of only line work, meaning no use of colours, values, textures etc. 

It was called The Adventures of Mr. Obadiah Oldbuck and was originally published in several different languages across Europe, among them an English translation meant for the British in 1941.

For this first example, I have used only line work and included some shading using various hatching techniques (much like what has been used for the comic of The Adventures of Mr. Obadiah Oldbuck). This has resulted in a very classic feel of comics, made up by only blacks and whites.

I attempted to make this classic style transform into a more modern style by applying a few halftones on top, resulting in the following outcome:

As you can see, by applying these halftones as overlays, the piece successfully achieves the look of a manga/comic book/webcomic, rather than the previous classic style.

Shape:

By using shape in art, one can easily and effectively archive much with little. Shapes can be used in several different ways to convey different emotions. Because this ‘comic’ page is based on action and a narrative of climax, I chose to emphasise on sharp edges as they are commonly known to communicate danger. For example, I changed the smoke into fire and made it look much alike shattered pieces of glass, yet again to indicate it as being something dangerous to touch.

Each line is straight and rarely bends; creating some interesting shapes, squares, and triangles;

Form:

Form is most often describes and applied to something that is a three-dimensional subject, such as clay sculpting, although generally speaking, it is connected to things that are 3D, (three-dimensional) meaning there is an aspect of extra depth that you can’t normally archive with 2D. This is emphasised by light and dark values. (low and high contrast), otherwise known as shading.

For this example I attempted to make the line-art I had done earlier feel more real and lifelike by adding these different shades of grey.

Texture:

There are two types of textures;

- Implied texture is texture that appears to be there, but is really an illusion.

- Actual texture is texture that exists and can be felt physically by touch.

Since I am doing this digitally to speed up the process, I will be doing this by using the technique of implied texture.

For a long while now, I have been building up a collection of high quality scans and pictures of a large variety, based on the advice of my teacher when we were playing around with the visual language of texture in a past project. Out of these, I chose just a couple to play around with in Krita;

Now all that was left to do was to layer these on top of the artwork I had done earlier and have, as I mention before, a play around with them using different layer modes such as colour dodge, screen, overlay, soft light, hard light, multiply etc. I came up with a handful of different textured outcomes, but will be posting just a few of my favourites and put the rest into a gif;

The reason that I chose this one as being one of my favourites is due to how successful both the textures layered together translated so clearly and well. It gives a lovely look of it being aged as if it were torn out of an old comic book and scanned into a computer.

Now this one I am especially a big fan of! Although inverting the values got rid of the majority of the details within the art work, It doesn’t take away from the subjects and narrative, but the most compelling thing about it is how it strongly reminds me to the look of lino printing.

An example of a great artist I found that specialises in this medium of artwork is Valdis Baskirovs. I have chosen to compare their work to this comic strip in particular because their subjects are also most often animals, including canines.

Below are some examples of their work and work process doing lino printing:

Value:

Value is often described as a way of drawing with light, where value is based on how light or dark a given colour or hue is. Values can easier be understood once they are visualised on a scale or a gradient.

The scale above ranges from white to black, with a number of grey tones in between, but any hue/tone has a similar scale that goes from light to dark;

Different colours or values can be achieved by adding light or dark hues, in the case shown above, adding white to it to lighting it, or by darkening it with black.

Colour:

Last but not least, colour is an incredibly important part of visual language. It is used to convey a feeling, narrative or meaning within a given piece of artwork.

For this comic page, I have decided to go for a more cartoony and simplistic style, since that is what the line art communicates with it’s sharp and clear edges; but instead of just splashing any random colour on, I wanted to try and make it monochromiatic, meaning that all the colours have the same base tone, and therefor relate and harmonise with each other. The base tone for the example shown below is a muted orange-yellow.

I applied a layer of texture on top for two reasons; one being to make the piece feel more connected, but also for the reason being that this texture makes the page look like damaged or burnt paper, again to subconsciously communicate the fire being dangerous. 

Can you list the similarities and differences between the three artists (Katsushika Hokusai, Aidan Koch & Sam Elston)

From looking at these three artists work side by side, I came to notice that they all seem able and confident in portraying more with less. Everything from line work and choice of colour is basic, simple, yet it still shines through as strong artwork. It feels like there is room to breathe due to the lack of business.

All of the three pieces of artworks shown below have the above in common. They feel light and minimalistic, using a variety of pastel colours and light values with the occasional dark black lines and/or splashes here and there.

I will be keeping this in mind for when I attempt drawing my own non verbal comics/sequences - the saying that less is more.

Example of the work of Katsushika Hokusai.

Example of the work of Aidan Koch.

Example of the work of Sam Elston.

- - -

𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖑

Frans Masereel (1889–1972) is the creator of the wordless graphic novel “The Sun”, or “Le Soleil”. Frans was a Flemish painter and graphic artist whom worked primarily in France, completing over 20 wordless novel during his career, with his novel “Passionate Journey” or “Mon livre d'heures” from 1919, allegedly being his best work.

“The Sun”/“Le Soleil” Consists of 63 pages showing prints from woodcuttings, and is a contemporary retelling of the Greek myth of Icarus. Briefly explained, the protagonist of the novel continuously attempts to seek to the Sun by any means possible, but before he succeeds, he is sent plummeting back down to Earth.

𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓 𝕿𝖆𝖓

Another artist that has added to the genre of wordless novels is Shaun Tan, which work we have studied for a past brief before. I will be talking more particularly about his graphic novel “The Arrival”, originally published in 2006, it is made up by 128 pages intricately drawn in pencil and later edited to fit the aesthetic and look off an old book.

After “reading” through this graphic novel, I was left thinking that this book is very touching and makes your mind wander off in thought.

It follows a man that cannot use words, thus the readers are experiencing everything as he is; silently. The protagonist, a man, leaves his wife and daughter to board a steamship to cross the ocean; all for the reason of building a better future for his family. - This book touches on the journeys that immigrant’s go through and experience on their travels. Although the reader clearly experiences the mans inner isolation, they also get to share his new found joys.

Below are some of the pages found within this book:

[spaceexp]

Luca to lead most challenging spacewalks since Hubble repairs

ESA - Beyond Mission patch / EVA - Extra Vehicular Activities patch. Nov. 8, 2019

ESA astronaut Luca Parmitano

The date is set for ESA astronaut Luca Parmitano’s first spacewalk of his Beyond mission. Friday 15 November marks the start of a series of complex spacewalks to service the cosmic-particle-hunting Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer (AMS-02). It is the first time a European astronaut will take a leading role and the full spacewalk will be streamed live via ESA Web TV.

Location of AMS-02 on the International Space Station

Luca and his spacewalking partner NASA astronaut Andrew Morgan will exit the International Space Station airlock at around 13:05 CET (12:05 GMT). The spacewalking series is expected to be the most challenging since work to repair the Hubble Space Telescope. As the lead spacewalker, known as ‘EV1’, Luca will wear a white spacesuit with red stripes while Andrew wears the white spacesuit with no stripes. The pair will be supported by NASA astronauts Christina Koch and Jessica Meir who will operate the Canadarm2 robotic arm from inside the Station. This will help position the astronauts around their hard-to-reach work site, located on top of the Station’s S3 Truss structure between a pair of solar arrays and radiators. The entire spacewalk is expected to take around six hours and it will set the scene for at least three more. The hardware AMS-02 records the number and characteristics of cosmic ray particles that pass through all of its detectors – over 140 billion particles to date. By tracking down the sources of these particles, scientists aim to gain a better understanding of dark matter and the origins of the Universe.

Spacewalks for AMS

Installed in 2011 AMS was only ever intended to run for three years and was never designed to be maintained in orbit. It has been so successful that its mission has been extended. Researchers, astronauts and operations teams have had to develop new procedures and more than 20 custom tools to extend the instrument’s life. The task Luca and Andrew’s core task will be to replace the AMS-02 cooling system and fix a coolant leak.

Astronauts Luca Parmitano and Andrew Morgan in Columbus

The pair trained extensively for this intricate operation on the ground. It will involve cutting and splicing eight cooling tubes connect them  to the new system and reconnecting a myriad of power and data cables. It is the first time astronauts will cut and reconnect cooling lines in orbit. Tune in The first two hours of the spacewalk will be streamed live on ESA Web TV and ESA’s Facebook page, featuring commentary from astronaut and operation experts at ESA’s astronaut centre in Cologne, Germany, as well as a live cross with scientists at the CERN European Laboratory for Particle Physics.

AMS-02 on Space Station

Viewers are encouraged to tweet their spacewalk questions to @esaspaceflight or @cern using the hashtag #SpacewalkForAMS. Experts will answer on the day. In the meantime, you can find out more about what it takes to prepare for a spacewalk in the latest episode of the Beyond mission podcast ESA Explores and stay tuned for a special audio message from Luca on the Space Station early next week. Related links: ESA Web TV: http://www.esa.int/ESA_Multimedia/ESA_Web_TV CERN European Laboratory for Particle Physics: https://home.cern/ @esaspaceflight: https://twitter.com/esaspaceflight @cern: https://twitter.com/cern ESA Explores: https://pod.link/1463873320 Human and Robotic Exploration: http://www.esa.int/Science_Exploration/Human_and_Robotic_Exploration Images, Video, Text, Credit: ESA - European Space Agency. Greetings, Orbiter.ch Full article

[yeontanismypresident]

I’m Done 02 | Yoongi

Genre: Angst, eventual fluff 

Word Count: 1.9K

Part One | Part Three (Final)

A month has passed since Yoongi had last seen or heard from you and it was taking a slow toll on him. Throughout the day, all he can do is lock himself in his room, not coming out to eat or anything. Yoongi hardly makes a sound, and if he does he’s good at hiding it. He’s skipped all the practices that are in schedule and he hardly puts any effort into the concerts they have. Music hasn't been written or produced, at least not from him. Every night he heads out to a bar to get completely wasted. There was one time Hoseok had asked him why he was getting drunk so much. Yoongi could only mutter four words before heading out to the closest bar, “to forget about her.”

They had all had enough of Yoongi’s behavior after he physically hurt Jungkook one night while drunk. Thus making Namjoon finally call a group meeting. Six out of the seven members,and some of the staff were attending. Now they were only waiting on Yoongi to show up to the conference room where the meeting was being held. It was ten minutes past the scheduled time when Jin let out a loud and long sigh, “I’ll go find him and drag him here.” Jin thought about calling him, but he knew Yoongi wouldn’t answer his phone. So, he walked to his studio to see if he was there.

Jin knocked on the door, “Yoongi open up! You were supposed to be at the meeting twenty minutes ago!” He sighed when all he heard was silence, meaning Yoongi most likely wasn’t in there, and turned to leave. Jin stopped in his tracks though when he caught the sound of someone trying to keep a sob in. He hesitated before finally punching in the code, and pushing the door open, “Yoongi?” Once he was in, he closed the door and his heart clenched at the sight before him. There, laying curled up on the small sofa, clutching what seemed to be your sweater, was Yoongi.

At a slow pace, Jin walked over and sat down on the floor in front of the couch, “Do you want to talk about it?” The two sat in silence for five minutes, the only sound being Yoongi’s sniffles and crying. After another five minutes of silence passed, Yoongi’s voice cracked, “I miss her so much.” Jin looked at his younger friend and saw him looking back with tears clouding his eyes. His heart broke a little more at Yoongi’s condition.

He gave Yoongi a small and knowing smile, “I know you do Yoongi-ah, but you can’t be acting like this. It’s not healthy for you.” More of Yoongi’s tears briskly fell, making Jin get up on the couch and hug him, “We’re all worried about you, both the rest of the boys and Army. We want to see you happy again.” “I’ll only be happy with Y/n. She made everything so much better and easier for me. She was there for me when I needed her. Whenever I was down she could always bring me back up. I messed up so bad and I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. Hyung what do I do?” Yoongi looked up at Jin, looking so lost and broken it hurt him to see. He hated seeing his brother look this way. At that moment he knew he would do anything in his power to make things between you and Yoongi better.

Jin got up, looking determined, “Let us help you Yoongi. Let us help you get better and get Y/n back.” Yoongi looked up at him with doubt clear on his face. Before Yoongi could make himself feel worse, Jin spoke, “We all will help you get her back. But first, you need to stop acting this way. Start eating and producing music again and stop getting drunk so much.” “I only drank to try and forget about her, but it did the opposite. All I can think about is Y/n,” Yoongi let out bitterly before he began to cry again. Jin rubbed his back while murmuring ‘It’ll be okay’. With a new task on hand, Jin left Yoongi’s studio and headed back to the conference room where the others were still waiting.

When he walked through the door, Jungkook yelled out, “Finally! You were gone for an hour Hy- wait where’s Yoongi Hyung?” The others stared at Jin while trying to figure out where the boy in question was.

“Let me guess? He yelled at you and kicked you out before you could drag him here?” Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head at Yoongi’s recent actions lately. Jin gave him a hard look and spoke with a serious tone, “Actually, we have to discuss other things.” He ignored the glares the staff were sending him, “He’s agreed to quit drinking. He’s also agreed to start attending practices, making music, and putting more effort into the concerts.” Everyone stared at him with distrust written all over their faces.

“What’s the catch?” Hoseok asked him after no one spoke. They all looked to Jin, also wanting to know what would have to happen for Yoongi to keep his word. But Jin only looked over at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“What do we have to do for him to keep his promise and become better?” this time it was Jimin who asked the important question. Jin looked each of his members in the eyes before letting out the one thing he was determined to get done, “We have to get him and Y/n back together.” Everyone started talking loudly, talking all over each other. Namjoon just sat there, staring at the table, deep in thought on what exactly they should do.  

He looked up and came up with a plan, making the rest of the people in the room quiet down, “I’ll text Y/n and try and get her to come to our last concert before tour. If we’re going to get them back together then we need to have a plan set and ready to go. We can’t mess this up.” They all nodded and looked like they were coming up with parts to do as well.

“Jimin, Tae, Jungkook, you all hang out with Y/n. Get her to become a little more happier and understanding, that way she comes. Namjoon, you do what you said, text her. Try and figure out what exactly happened so we can have this have a positive outcome. Hobi and I will try and get Yoongi to talk about it and see what he wants to do. Everybody okay with that?” Jin was confident with the strategy he just came up with. This had to go according to plan and perfectly if they wanted two of their best friends to get better. Besides, they all knew you and Yoongi belonged together.

-0-0-0-0-0-

You had just gotten out of the shower, dressed back in your pajamas, ice cream and sad movies already set up in your living room, when the doorbell went off. Letting out a quiet sigh you went to see who was bugging you. Didn’t people know you just wanted to bask in your self pity and sadness alone? Was that too much to ask?

“Jimin? Taehyung? Jungkook? What are you guys doing here?” you were thoroughly confused as to why the maknaes showed up, and with takeout in their hands at that. They gently pushed past you and set the food down by your ice cream on the coffee table.

Jimin was the first one to pull you in for a hug, “We just wanted to come and see if you were okay.” He hugged you for a minute before letting you go so Jungkook could give you a hug, “We haven’t been the best of friends lately and we wanted to apologize.” Once he let go of you, you were tugged in to Taehyung’s embrace, “So we brought some food! We know you won’t pass up free food, so how about we talk and eat? Hmm?”

“Fine, have a seat,” you sighed and took a seat in the middle of Jimin and Taehyung, Jungkook next to Taehyung. You sighed once again and picked up your food, “So what did you guys want to talk about?” They all shared a look, somewhat nervous, they didn’t want to upset you or make you cry. Taehyung grabbed your hand, “Y/n, can you tell us what exactly happened that night? All we got from Hyung was that you left him, before he broke down.” He could see you become uncomfortable, tears gathering in your eyes, so he reassured you fast, “You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. We understand if it’s too much. We don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, maybe if I get it off my chest I can move on and find someone else, y’know?” you shook your head, sniffling a little, tilting your head back so the tears wouldn’t fall. You didn’t see the look all three of them shared. In truth, they didn’t want you to try and move on, their Hyung needed you and they knew you needed him too. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, recalling that night, “I had gone to his studio, I just wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself, maybe have him come home. It had been a month since I’d heard from him and I was getting worried. It started off fine, but then he started getting mad at me because I was there. I told him that I wasn’t going to live like that anymore. I needed him to show and put in some effort. It felt like I was the only one in the relationship trying. I told him that if he didn’t come home with me then I was done. He ignored me and that’s when I decided I needed to leave. So I packed my stuff, stayed with a friend for a while, and then got this place.”

By the time you were done explaining what happened, tears were pouring down your cheeks and sobs were shaking your whole body. Jimin had tears of his own, he hated seeing you like this. You were like a sister to him, and if Yoongi wasn’t his best friend or like a brother he would beat him up. Jimin knew Yoongi was hurting too, so he refrained from heading to him and blowing up on him, at least for now, maybe later on when you two were back together.

Jungkook kneeled in front of you and pulled you into a gentle hug, ‘It’s okay Y/n-ah. Everything will be okay.” You sobbed harder and hugged him tighter.

When you finally stopped crying, Jimin got a text from Jin, “We hate to leave you like this Y/n, but we have to go back for practice. We’ll check up on you. Remember, keep an open mind. Namjoon will be texting you soon.” Him and Taehyung pulled you into a hug and Jungkook joined in, making it a group hug.

“It’s fine. Thanks for letting me talk, I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders,” you walked them to the door and watched them step out into the hallway. Jungkook looked at you with a shy face, making you have a soft tone when you question him, “What is it Kookie?”

He looked at you with sadness, “Will you ever get back with Yoongi Hyung?” His voice was quiet and filled with a little bit of fear and sadness. You looked off to the side and thought for a bit, finally speaking the five words that gave him a little more hope for his brother, “I sure hope so Jungkook.” He gave you a bunny smile before turning and leaving with Jimin and Taehyung.