#the premise is just if i should put it here first

[01tsubomi]

mfw i spent yeeeeears in college aaaaaagonizing about how to turn a short fanfic of mine into a full-length original work and was working on it with my professor and through all the editing became really embarrassed of the original fanfic version thinking it was immature and shallow but could also never make the rewrite work so i moved onto other projects and then today after a very long time reread both of them only to find that the original fic is concise and heartfelt with clunky execution but solid and gripping emotional beats and the novelization is overwritten self-obsessed garbo

[drchucktingle]

Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!

very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.

all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.

i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.

now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.

the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.

if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'

do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is

by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of

[robertreich]

No Labels Isn't What It Claims to Be

The “No Labels” Party is not what it pretends to be. It’s a front group for Donald Trump.

Now I understand, if you’re sick of the two major parties, you might be intrigued by a party that claims to be a “common sense” alternative that finds the middle ground.

But if you or anyone in your life is planning to vote for No Labels — or any third party — in 2024, please watch and share this video first.

Here are three things you need to know.

First, No Labels is a dark money group with secret far-right donors. Investigative reporting has revealed that they include many of the same Republican donors who have pumped huge sums of money into electing candidates like Trump and Ron DeSantis. They also include the rightwing billionaire Harlan Crow, who spent years secretly treating Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas to a lifestyle of the rich and famous.

If the No Labels Party is backed by Trump donors, in an election where Trump is on the ballot, there’s actually a label we should give to “No Labels.” Clearly, they’re a pro-Trump group.

Second, the premise No Labels is based on — that Donald Trump and President Biden are at equally extreme ends of the political spectrum — is preposterous.

Trump has been impeached twice, found by a jury to have committed sexual assault, is facing 91 criminal charges in four separate cases — two of them in connection with an attempt to effectively end American democracy.

There is no “equally extreme” candidate as Trump!

Finally, the structure of the Electoral College means that as a practical matter, a third party only draws votes away from whichever major party candidate is closest to it. No third party candidate has ever won a presidential election.

And in this particular election, when one of the major parties is putting up a candidate who threatens democracy itself, we cannot take the risk.

Donald Trump has already tried to overturn one election and suggested suspending the Constitution to maintain power. It is no exaggeration to say that if he takes the White House again, there may not ever be another free and fair election.

Democracy won by a whisker in the last presidential election. Just 44,000 votes in Arizona, Georgia, and Wisconsin — less than one tenth of 1 percent of the total votes cast nationwide — were the difference between the Biden presidency and a tie in the Electoral College that would have thrown the election to the House of Representatives, and hence to Trump.

If candidates from No Labels— or any other third party, like the Green Party or the Libertarian Party —  peel off just a fraction of the anti-Trump vote from Biden, while Trump voters stay loyal to him, Trump could win the top five swing states comfortably and return to the Oval Office. And No Labels’ own polling shows they would do just that!

Let me be absolutely clear. Third-party groups like No Labels are in effect front groups for Trump in 2024, and should be treated as such.

The supposed “centrism” No Labels touts is nonsense. There is no middle ground between democracy and fascism.

Please share this video and spread the word.

[veryrockyraccoon]

So I found a few things like this awhile back but figured I’d share my own thoughts about it.

The Mandalorians thinking of the Jedi as great warriors and to them getting a Jedi in the family was considered a great feat (that no one has managed to achieve yet), they think the Jedi have incredibly high standards, as the great warriors they are should, and continue to follow, flirt with and try to parent Jedi they see.

Meanwhile the Jedi fully believe the Mandos hate them, they specifically warn all younglings to avoid them and it’s one of the first lessons for Padawans.

At one point a Mando sees a Jedi with a Padawan and try’s to compliment the Jedis child rearing skills but they say something like “Your young one is very strong, they would make a great Mandalorian!” Which to the Mando is a compliment and a little bit of flirting, but for the Jedi, who’s already primed to stop someone from kidnapping their padawan because of how popular force-sensitive slaves are (especially those with training who aren’t considered to dangerous, ie Jedi padawans) takes this as a threat and responds with a snarled “Yes they are, and so am I” while projecting every ounce of ‘I’ll beat you black and blue’ they can into the force, the Jedi quickly pulls their padawan close and leaves. Meanwhile the Mando is like “Wow that was hot” and is all proud of themselves for coming up with such a great compliment.

A ton of other shenanigans ensue and it’s great.

Side note I love the idea of the Jedi being very off putting to most others, not in a clear way but a lot of small things (just to fast reflexes, knowing what you’re about to say and responding before you even started etc).

Also here’s a list of reasons Jedi are the perfect spouse to Mandos

They’re great warriors who treat battles as dances, you will never get tired of watching their swirling robes and glowing blades.

They’re amazing with kids, raising their young is a great honor to them.

They stay level headed in the most stressful of situations, remaining competent and calm the entire time.

Their ability to sense danger means they almost always have the upper hand in battle.

Again great fighters, you won’t know true awe until you seen a Jedi cut down a field of enemies in less time then it takes most to fight a small gang.

Anyway these were just some thoughts I had, if anyone has any fic recs with this premise please let me know!!

[shijiujun]

A Summary: The Spirealm | 致命游戏 (Kaleidoscope of Death 死亡万花筒 Live Action) & Why You Should (Eventually) Watch It

Talk about the most short-lived drama release ever, not even totalling two hours if I recall. Creating this summary as I've seen a handful of confused friends, so here it goes!

It's going to be a long review because I sped through all 78 episodes and only properly watched the first two doors, but I got you. You'll get both the brief book rundown and the drama parts!

If you just wanna see the bromance (LOVE) parts please skip to section 4!!!!

1. Overview

Title: The Spirealm (kinda awful I'm sorry it's a mouthful) or 致命游戏 which means fatal game

Adapted From: Danmei (BL) Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu

Novel Prints: There are GORGEOUS Thai, Vietnamese, Simplified and Traditional Chinese versions printed, AND Singapore publisher Rosmei has signed the license for the ENGLISH version, probably going on sale this year (preview is here). You can still access fan translations by Taida on I think wordpress and someone else on Tumblr sorry bad memory (they did half and half each) if you'd like to read it for context. It is one of my FAVE danmeis EVER and I am a die-hard OG book fan, check out my full danmei review here.

Total Episodes: 78 (20 minutes each with the exception of last episode which 10 minutes, with several BTS not that I think we will get to see all of them yet)

Where to Watch (LOL): Erm considering that iQIYI China AND International took the episodes down, there is no legal way to watch this, BUT thanks to some cnetz with super fast and great wifi, we managed to get ripped HD versions without subs. iQIYI is very hard on copyright though, they've taken down several subbed and unsubbed versions already on YouTube, but you should type the titles of show into Twitter and the top tags will tell you where to access the raws and very little subbed episodes, that may also be taken down at any point. I have the Chinese raws but as it's hosted on a cloud, I had to pay to access it.

Main Characters: Lin Qiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the novel) and Ling Jiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the drama)

Produced By: iQIYI so for SURE they won't film it fully BL even if the original is, but I've seen enough bromance cuts

Main Actors: Xia Zhiguang (Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie) + Huang Junjie (Ling Jiushi)

2. Summary

Book (drama follows closely if not removing the supernatural premises): Lin Qiushi, a designer, opens the door to his home one day from inside and sees 12 iron doors outside. Confused, he opens one of them and arrives at a snow covered village in the mid of winter, and meets Ruan Baijie, who's a pretty, unusually tall and whiny/timid woman. They realise that they're in a horrifying door game, and they'll have to find a door and a key to get out, while battling a long-haired, human-eating deity. They, along with a few others, have to survive day after day until they get out, and on the first night, two people have died in gory ways. Ruan Baijie and Lin Qiushi partner each other, and despite seemingly timid and crying all the time, she saves Lin Qiushi a few times mysteriously, and Lin Qiushi finds himself trusting in Ruan Baijie.

They get through the door together and when they leave successfully, Lin Qiushi realizes that the people who died in the door will die in real life by some freak accident too - car accidents, forced suicides, a robbery gone wrong, a lift trapped in the air and going ablaze, and more. That night, Lin Qiushi wakes up to see a super handsome and tall Ruan Nanzhu at his bedside and this man feels familiar to him, but he can't put a finger on it. All he can think of when Ruan Nanzhu says his name is Ruan Baijie (ahem he would later find out who it is of course). Ruan Nanzhu takes him to his mansion in the suburbs where he meets a group of other people just like them, who're forced to go through the doors for survival. Ruan Nanzhu then invites him to join Obsidian, his organization.

Through various doors, Lin Qiushi grows and supports a super intelligent and powerful Ruan Nanzhu, falls in love with him, gets through many many scary doors with him and some of their other team members, makes friends, loses them to the cruelty of the doors as they ponder over what the door means, and what being alive/dying means.

And at the end of it, at the end of of it all, when they're all good and living their life, Lin Qiushi also finds out what Ruan Nanzhu's secret is, and the lengths to which Ruan Nanzhu went to, just to be with him.

Drama: Ling Jiushi is a VR game designer who gets pulled into a game, and he meets Ruan Baijie (in his male form) right off the bat (SO NOT CROSSDRESSING I AM SAD). All the parts are actually the same as the novel, albeit with the game setting and Ling Jiushi and Ruan Nanzhu's identity adjustments to suit the game premise. Most of the other doors and their lines are the same, just that the ending is a bit more confusing than it could be. There's a big bad as well and they actually show the opposing organizations when in the novel, these other organizations aside from Obsidian didn't even actually have a face or goal to them.

3. Characters

^ Them in the book (based on manhua that never got to go live LOL) (RNZ/RBJ left, LQS right)

^ Them in the show (LJS left, RNZ right)

Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie: MY HANDSOME CROSSDRESSING INTELLIGENT ALOOF BUT WHINY (WHEN IT COMES TO LIN QIUSHI) SASSY BOSS!!!! He's super mysterious and super thick-skinned too, and all he wants is Lin Qiushi's attention the moment he meets him. He's intrigued by Lin Qiushi's calm and his brains and the way he handles things, and has a lot of trust for him right from the get-go. This is also shown in the drama itself. As the leader of Obsidian, he cares a lot for his team members and his friends even if he doesn't show it most of the time, and the last thing he wants to do is lose Lin Qiushi, and he would do ANYTHING for Lin Qiushi, ANYTHING!!! Just look at him whining:

Ling Jiushi (Lin Qiushi): In the novel he's super calm, has quite a lot of brains, a little bit of a blur in the beginning but he's super smart as well. Worries a lot for Ruan Nanzhu and is also a loyal friend to some of his only friends, and feels a lot when he loses them. Falls gradually in love with Ruan Nanzhu in the novel, like they just belong together. In this drama, Ling Jiushi holds that same trust for Ruan Nanzhu, but in demeanour he seems a bit more like a klutz and and not as cool as he was in the novel, but I guess it's acceptable. Literally like the only thing he loves more than RNZ (maybe) is his cat Chestnut LOL and RNZ is NOT really happy about that but Chestnut LOVES RNZ

Yixie and Qianli: CUTEST TWINS ;-; WHO TREAT RNZ and LQS as their big brothers LOOK AT THEM BOWING AND RNZ/LJS like parents LMAO

A handful of other characters who will keep turning up and get your hearts ;-;

4. ALL FAVE BROMANCE MOMENTS + TROPES

THEY TOUCH EACH OTHER A LOT LIKE HOLDING HANDS AND TOUCHING FACES, PIGGY BACKING?!?! DID I MENTION FACE TOUCHING

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP THEY HELP EACH OTHER WHEN HURT OR GET HURT FOR EACH OTHER

AND WHEN THEY WAKE UP IN BED THE OTHER IS AT THEIR BEDSIDE

AND DID I MENTION HE FEEDS HIM IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

AND THAT THEY DATED UNDER THE FIREWORKS LIKE THE NOVEL DOES NOT EVEN HAVE THIS SHIT

AND THE KABEDONS

AND FINALLY RUAN NANZHU RIZZ OMG

5. Settings

They REALLY OUTDID THEMSELVES. THIS JUST FROM DOORS 1-6:

THEY LOOK EXACTLY LIKE THE NOVEL DESCRIBED!!!!

6. Overall Thoughts

PROS: This was NOT a cheap production, I'm telling you, they followed the cases very well and there're a lot of super recognisable lines, if not ALL of them, even if they changed the cases a little. I think they did it because in the novel originally, the author DOES leave a lot of details hanging like someone dies and you know he had a background and there are some shady things happening but the author NEVER actually goes into detail. So the drama did their best to cover these loopholes, even if it felt a little awkward at times. Money went into settings and attires and every damn thing, this looks EXPENSIVE. And if you've ever imagined each door and the bosses inside in your head, you might have felt chills go down your spine because damn did they really colour the book's settings for me (despite its differences). DID I MENTION that Xia Zhiguang really got the damn memo and he was a passable Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie who knew how to turn on his BL eyes. PLUS they really did some of the character deaths really well - they're technically some of the biggest parts of this story so ;-; (not two main of course)

CONS (maybe): They did away with the supernatural/horror premise and replaced it with a GAME premise, which means that there's a scientific element to it and the try to explain away stuff with the game, including the ending. I don't 100% get the ending, but the feel/vibe is about the same. Might not be for hardcore reader fans tho! They skipped out on a couple of doors, some of which were my faves, but it's fine, it's long enough LOL. They give away/explain some of the clues and surprises super early which means you don't get that added boom at the back as well. Despite that, I have to say they tried to round up the loopholes from the book as much as they could and give it an explanation while tying elements/conspiracies across doors (probably also to save cast fees LOL). And as always it's not a solid ending, it's an open confusing one, and even more confusing than the book itself because THERE IS NO CERTAIN HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH HUBBY for it (there is in the book tho, they live together happily every after). Secondl,y, I'd say HJJ's acting is a bit stiff and OOC compared to the novel, but Xia Zhiguang really made up for it.

-------

HOPE THIS HELPS YOU GUYS!!! But I guess if you need subs it's going to be a long LONGGGG ride, considering that iQIYI doesn't seem to be going to be able to put it up anytime soon CRIES.

[lazycats-stuff]

Please make Bruce x male reader who's Ra's al Ghul's Brother? The reader isn't that involved with the league, like Ra's the big brother and shielded him, so he doesn't know that Bruce is batman and bruce also doesn'tknow thta reader's the brother of Ra'd, but at some point in their relationship the reader introduces him and the two only stay civil for the reader.

This is a recipe for disaster... But in every great way possible.

Summary: Bruce and Ra's are connected through (Y/N).

Warnings: Ra's being a good brother, minor cursing, Bruce and Ra's become frenemies lol

Ra's is a well known assassin in those circles. He is a formidable opponent for anyone who goes up against him. But there is one thing that he refuses to let his enemies know. Something he would rather die than reveal. His younger brother (Y/N).

When Ra's started the League, he kept his brother away from it. (Y/N) didn't decide to question what his brother was doing, but he knew what was going on to a certain extent. He was living with Ra's and has dipped himself in the Lazarus pit to stay young.

And (Y/N) was aware that it's not normal to have an army of trained ninjas walking around the premises, but he did not question it. Or the fact that he had to dip himself in the pit every few years to keep his youth.

But there was one thing he was certain of. His older brother would protect him with everything. Thus, Ra's and (Y/N) were very close, despite the fact that (Y/N) didn't know what Ra's was doing. Therefore, (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

We'll get to that a bit later.

After years of living with Ra's, (Y/N) wanted to see more of the world and move. Ra's nearly got a stroke when (Y/N) said that he wanted to move, but he knew that his brother wouldn't want to stay here forever. He helped (Y/N) move to... Well, (Y/N) has decided to move to Gotham City.

Ra's has warned (Y/N) that Gotham City is a city full of crime, nasty people and just overrun with criminals. (Y/N) has said that he would be fine, since Ra's taught him how to defend himself. Ra's' was still beyond nervous, but refused to show it.

Another problem was Batman. If Bruce found out who (Y/N) was, he could use (Y/N) as a pawn for his attack against Ra's and Ra's fought too hard to keep his brother safe. But he relented, knowing that he couldn't jail his brother forever.

Ra's relented and allowed (Y/N) to move to Gotham. He has decided to help his younger brother get settled in. He bought (Y/N) his place since (Y/N) has found a job in Gotham and normally it would have taken a while to get settled in, especially in a financial situation.

And Ra's is anything but rich so he helped his brother. And may or may not have decided to put a secret bodyguard to keep his brother safe. A guard that will just blend in with Gotham people and just stay off of (Y/N)'s radar.

And Bruce's radar too.

And so Ra's and (Y/N) came to Gotham city, Ra's helping (Y/N) to move his things and make the apartment a little bit more warmer and make a more home feeling.

" Tell me brother, are you sure you don't want to go back home? " Ra's asked as he put a box down in the kitchen.

" I'm sure Ra's. I really thought this out. I thought about it thoroughly." (Y/N) said as he put a box down and plopped down on the couch, tired from the move. He sighed and just plopped down on the couch face first this time.

" I will miss you. We have been through a lot together over the years. " Ra's said as he sat down the couch, smiling at his brother. " I guess I should have known you would want to spread your wings a bit and search the world so to speak. "

" Yeah... And Gotham sounds fun actually. "

Ra's scoffed and chuckled at the same time. " How is it fun? It's ridden with crime and filth. "

" But it's fun when you never know when you'll get mugged or not. " (Y/N) said into the warm black couch.

Ra's laughed and patted his head playfully. " Really? Are you nuts? "

" Nuts? I'm just looking for some new opportunities. " (Y/N) said as he turned on his back, looking back at his brother.

" You are really insane. " Ra's said chuckling, leaning back against the couch.

" Maybe... But I really craved change. " (Y/N) said as he put his head on Ra's lap and sighed. " You are still my older brother and I love you... I just want you to know that. "

Ra's smiled at that. He knew that very well. After all they have been through through the years, they have created an amazing bond and Ra's has swore to protect his little brother for as long as he was alive. And that was something that he has intended to do it for as long as he can.

After all, he is a man of his word.

" How about we order something to eat? And get some wine? You know I live for red wine. " (Y/N) said as he got more comfortable.

" Sure, why not? " Ra's said quietly petting (Y/N)'s hair. It was soft to the touch, the result of the years using the Lazarus pit to keep himself younger and healthier.

" Some Italian food? Or Chinese? Or something else entirely? " (Y/N) asked Ra's, wondering what they could eat.

" Well, before we order, I want to let you know something. A few rules to keep me happy. " Ra's said and (Y/N) sighed quietly, shifting his head in Ra's lap to look at him with more attention, to show him that he was listening intently.

" I'll visit at least once a month, just to make sure you are alive. Secondly, I'll text you every morning and you should respond, just so I can know you are alive. Other than that, I have no problem with you doing anything else. "

" Even dating? " (Y/N) said chuckling and Ra's sighed, shaking his head with an amused smile.

" Yes, even dating. And if something happens, call me. I'll be here as soon as possible. " Ra's said softly and (Y/N) nodded. He always knew that. He knew that Ra's would always protect him.

" I know you would... Thank you brother. " (Y/N) said and Ra's patted his cheek.

" Always my brother, always. "

And that was a little over a year ago. Ra's and (Y/N) were in constant contact and the two brothers were now in (Y/N)'s apartment, sipping some red wine that Ra's has brought during his last visit.

" Anything new my brother? " Ra's asked as he swirled the wine in his wine glass.

" I'm dating. "

Ra's raised his brow and turned to look at his brother instead of wine. " Really? "

" Yes. We have been going out for about 6 months. " (Y/N) answered as he sipped his wine.

" Oh? Is it a he or a she? "

" It's a he. If you can stay a day longer, you can meet him tomorrow. " (Y/N) said and turned on the TV, knowing that the news are going to be on soon.

" I do want to meet the man who stole my brother's heart. " Ra's mumbled, sipping his wine slowly, happy that his brother was dating and he seemed happy.

" I'll tell him to drop by here. " (Y/N) said as he quickly texted Bruce to come by tomorrow at this time.

" Is he treating you well? " Ra's asked, putting his wine glass down on the coffee table.

" He spoils me rotten. " (Y/N) answered with a soft smile and Ra's nodded. Good, as he should.

" And you treat him well too? " Ra's asked as he tilted his head.

" Of course I do. " (Y/N) said rolling his eyes, amused by his brother's questions.

" Just asking, want to make sure you are happy. " Ra's justified himself.

(Y/N) huffed and crossed his arms, playfully turning away from Ra's who laughed.

" Oh please, I know you don't mind me asking those questions. " Ra's said as turned his brother around to face him.

(Y/N) huffed at that, rolling his eyes.

" Oh I know you don't. "

Tomorrow evening came by quickly and Ra's and (Y/N) were patiently waiting for Bruce to arrive. (Y/N) has cooked an amazing meal and put it on the table just as the doorbell rang. He wiped his hands and quickly moved to open the door. Ra's positioned himself so he could see who would enter from the hallway, while waiting.

(Y/N) opened the door, saying hello to Bruce, who in return hugged him tightly and kissed him softly. In his arms he had a bouquet of roses and a bottle of red wine.

After that, (Y/N) led Bruce to the dining room/living room and both Ra's and Bruce froze. What the fuck?

" Bruce, this is my older brother Ra's. Ra's, this is my boyfriend Bruce." (Y/N) said, introducing the men who already know each other, but not for good reasons.

Bruce handed (Y/N) the roses and the bottle of wine and shook hands with Ra's, who could have killed Bruce on sight. His younger brother, with Batman... Oh hell no.

" I'll put the bottle and the flowers away. " (Y/N) said and quickly left and the two men stared each other down.

" What are you doing with my brother? " Ra's whispered to Bruce, anger seeping into his voice.

" I didn't know he is your brother. " Bruce whispered back quickly, eyes glancing at the hall where (Y/N) went to put the flowers and the wine again. " Doesn't he know who I am? " Bruce added, still whispering.

" No, because I keep him away from the League business. "

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. " Okay, we are staying civil for him. "

" Couldn't agree more. But hurt him, I'll kill you more times than you can count. " Ra's threatened and sat down as he heard his brother coming. Bruce followed suit and (Y/N) came back with a small smile.

Bruce and Ra's glanced at one another. They will be civil for (Y/N) and (Y/N) only.

[alphabetboyluvr]

LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying. 

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there. 

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might. 

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers. 

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships. 

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for. 

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

[kalims]

Hi, there! :D

I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.

I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)

Type: Headcanons

Reader: Neutral

Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?

I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .

whisk away

premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.

characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil

note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)

silver

has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!

fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?

last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?

someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.

just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.

"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."

gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.

kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.

jade

take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!

jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.

and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.

student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.

so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.

with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.

well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.

oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...

*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*

deuce

I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.

unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?

oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?

he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!

almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.

"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)

if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.

don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!

kalim

gasps loudly. "noooo!"

which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)

bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.

now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.

lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.

"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)

he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.

drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...

vil

what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.

although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.

so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.

what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*

don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.

plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.

who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.

frets over you right after. living the dream.

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)

Ellie Williams x reader

I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.

Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.

Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three over here!

Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao

I think that I have unlearned how to love.

That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.

Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.

I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.

The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded. 

She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.

Almost.

It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas. 

The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again. 

So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do. 

I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.

When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.

As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.

"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.

"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"

Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."

"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"

I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."

"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."

"So?" Cat asks.

"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"

"Why not?"

"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"

"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.

She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.

Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.

I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"

My heart drops "I'm not?"

Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."

I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.

"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"

My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."

Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-

"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.

"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.

Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"

"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."

While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret. 

She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.

The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.  

"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"

The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.

"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.

"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.

I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."

I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.

Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine. 

As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.

After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"

"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"

Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-

"Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."

She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."

"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."

"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"

I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.

Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.

'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?

AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?

She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together. 

God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.

I think I've had my fair share of partying.

After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.

I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter. 

Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.

When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things. 

"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray. 

Thirty dollars?

Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).

I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."

Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.

"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off. 

After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-

"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen. 

I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.

Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.

"Make a wish!"

Age Sixteen- Grade 11

I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.

How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.

"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.

The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.

 "What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.

I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?" 

He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand. 

"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.

I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline. 

"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?" 

I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.

"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."

"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.

"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because I don't."

My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.

I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."

Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."

I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.

My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.

"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."

She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-

My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-

Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.

I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her. 

"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!" 

Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.

Frankly, I'm fucking scared.

She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body. 

Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.

This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.

"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain. 

I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.

I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air. 

Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it. 

I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.

She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.

"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."

"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.

"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."

"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"

"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."

"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."

We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.

"Fine."

I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.

I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.

When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"

Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.

We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.

She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"

"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness. 

"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."

"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."

Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing. 

She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.

She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night. 

Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."

"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.

"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."

I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."

I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.

"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."

I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.

"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it." 

The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"

I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."

She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"

"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."

Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.

How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.

A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀

Thanks for reading!

Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica

[averagewriter-inthedark]

When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

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Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out  they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for. 

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes. 

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones. 

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat. 

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina. 

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers. 

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room. 

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her. 

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around  the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her. 

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?” 

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown  and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament. 

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place. 

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom. 

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed. 

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug. 

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes. 

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?” 

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer. 

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air. 

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could. 

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body. 

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold. 

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!” 

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic. 

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers. 

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face. 

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his. 

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!” 

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was. 

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them. 

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water. 

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.” 

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead. 

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod. 

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.” 

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.” 

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her. 

 “I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her.  Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?” 

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so. 

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls. 

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body. 

That she left the world at peace. 

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling. 

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous. 

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved. 

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck. 

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead. 

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!” 

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him. 

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs. 

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for. 

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle? 

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them. 

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back. 

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away. 

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch. 

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit. 

For what was once three became two. 

[the-californicationist]

I don't know if you're taking requests (You can ignore this if you're not)

I remember reading something (it was either on facebook or a twitter thread) about a guy who made a tinder account of his girlfriend to see how many likes/swipes she'd get

And boy he didn't realise how many men swiped right on her. I think within an hour she got like over 1000 (he was ready to buy his girlfriend a cow, a camel, diamond ring. Basically anything she wanted because he realised how lucky he actually was that she wanted him)

ANYWAY

I can't stop thinking about the cod men doing it. Like what would their reaction be??

I feel like Kyle would just shower you with gifts. Oh you glanced at that designer handbag, he's in that shop with his card out. He don't care about the price

lol this is such a funny premise! i wish i had seen the video!! here's my take, otherwise known as how to tease Gaz within an inch of his life.

Get Ratio'd

“What do you mean switch? I don’t wanna be on that bloody app in the first place, babe,” Kyle scrunched up his nose at your proposal, but you pressed him.

“C’mon! It’ll be a laugh. Just for fun, Gaz. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

You had seen a viral video, and now you had an idea. There was a couple who had switched phones for the night to swipe through each other’s dating apps, just to see how many hits they’d get. The woman in the video seemed defeated after trying her best to dress up her man’s profile and not finding any matches, but the man looked like he was shell-shocked, and he told her they were deleting these apps right away. Experiment over. So, you were curious. You knew Gaz was a handsome man, so you were eager to see how you’d do. 

He peered down at you over his nose and sighed, handing you his phone. You sat on the couch together, downloading the apps, picking out pictures, making sure to set the settings to casual dates only. No need to trick people into thinking you were actually on the market. 

“I just don’t want you to get jealous, love,” he smiled, genuinely concerned, "I've been told I'm a handsome chap." You smiled back,

“No worries, babe.  I can take it.”

Finally, after everything was set up, you switched phones. The boys would be over in just a few minutes, and you were eager for all of the likes to start rolling in. 

“We should make ourselves a little wager, yeah?” You suggested, knowing Kyle wasn’t one to shy away from competition.

“Aye, alright. Most likes wins?”

“Nah, most messages. ‘Cause that takes guts. And we’ll stop after the football game.”

“You’re on,” he smiled, giving your butt a playful slap as you went to buzz the boys in from your front door. 

The match was on for a good twenty minutes before you even got your first notification. Your heart sank a little when it looked like a bot, some garbage about “You look lonely. I can fix that. Click here!” It wasn’t a real girl. You showed Kyle and he shrugged, 

“It counts. It’s a DM, innit?”

“Alright,” you said, trying to get a peek at his app.

He swiped the phone away from you,

“Ah-ah! No peekin’.”

“Oh, c’mon, babe. No one wants to do me?” You whined, pouting at him.

He snaked his arm around you, palming your arse in his wide hand, 

“I wanna do you, babe.”

“I know,” you giggled, raising your hips to give him more access, earning yourself a hard squeeze, “I just thought I still had it.”

“You definitely do, babe. This is just a toxic app. Don’t think about it.”

So, you put it out of your mind. You got exactly three more messages for the rest of the night. One girl sent a friendly “Hey!” with a smiley emoji, another sent a photo of herself doing a sort of duck lips thing in a low-cut top. Finally, you got one that said, “Is that your real name? Just want to make sure I’ll be screaming the right one later.”

You cackled, showing the boys. Soap laughed with you, his eyes wide at her sexy message, and Price gave you a good-natured eyeroll. The only thing Ghost said was,

“Has he showed you yours yet?”

You looked over at Gaz who was burning a hole through Ghost with his glare, and he shut off your phone screen and put it in his pocket. 

“No… why?” You asked.

“No reason,” Ghost retreated, drinking his beer and fixing his eyes back on the match. 

A few minutes later, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and then you lingered in the hallway, listening to the conversation happening between Gaz and his friends in your den. 

“Oh, mate,” Soap whispered none too quietly, “You are in fuckin’ trouble, ain’tcha?” 

“Shove off, Johnny. Help me figure out how to fuckin’ delete this,” Gaz hissed.

“Well, son,” Price didn’t even bother to lower his tone, sipping on his whiskey with a smile on his face, “You bloody well won your bet.”

“I knew it would be bad, but I didn’t think it would be this bad,” Gaz handed your phone over to Ghost who was gesturing for him to give it. 

Ghost read the message aloud,

“I could call you beautiful, but since beauty comes from within, I’ll just have to check for myself… Fuckin’ hell. That’s rank.”

Soap was looking over his shoulder, scrolling furiously, reading as he did,

“Your eyes are stunnin’. You’ve got beautiful eyes. Wow, your eyes are beautiful… like, c’mon mate, a little creativity?”

“You don’t want to read the creative ones,” Price warned, taking the phone from Ghost, reading his favorite, “Jus’ wonderin’ if I should respect the fuck outta you or fuck the respect out of you.” 

Gaz leaned back on the couch, exasperated,

“What am I gonna do? I gotta buy her one of those fuckin’ bags that cost as much as a goddamn Aston. She said she wanted to do Bora Bora, or was it Fiji? Maybe I can take her for her birthday? How much are tickets?”

“Mate, you’re cooked,” Soap muttered, then gasped, “Oh, Christ. Look at the size of this one's fuckin’ knob!”

“Help me book her a bloody spa day. Do you think she wants jewelry? Holy shite, this bloke just sent a screenshot of his bank account. What the fuck?”

“She’s already with you, mate,” Ghost shrugged, “What’s the bother?”

“He’s bothered ‘cause now he knows that,” Price grumbled, checking his watch, “...in under an hour, she could have a quarter of the population of London bangin’ down her door just to smell the inside of her bloody shoe. And he’d have…”

“A bot and two birds,” Gaz frowned, crossing his arms.

“A bot and two birds,” Price nodded, sipping his drink and turning back to the game. 

You wandered back into the room, plopping down beside Gaz, pretending you hadn’t heard the discussion that had just transpired. Gaz put an arm around you almost protectively, kissing your forehead,

“Hey, babes. What was the name of that spa you wanted to book? Thought we could go together this weekend.”

“Kyle,” you turned to him decisively, “Show me the texts.”

“No,” he shook his head, turning back to the game.

“Kyle,” you squeezed his thigh.

“No! You don’t need to see all that.”

“All what?”

“The one hundred eighty-seven messages that he —” Soap interrupted, but Gaz cut him off.

“Oy! Mate! Shut up.”

“Just show her,” Ghost rolled his eyes. 

“One hundred…” You were in shock, and as Gaz handed you your phone back, you scrolled through the mess that he had been hiding from you, “Oh, God…”

“Yeah…” Gaz sighed, “So, if you want that purse that the Kardashian whats-her-name had, just add it to the cart, alright? Jesus.”

You were shocked by the level of attention you had received, but when you saw the content, you had to stop yourself from dying with laughter,

“Not sure if I’m just hungry or if you truly are a snack. Either way I’ll eat you. Oh, no. Look at this one: My cock’s a rescue, wanna give it a good home? Wow… these are rough! How many dick pics did you get?”

“Too many,” Gaz shook his head. 

“Aww, baby,” you hugged his neck, teasing him, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. None of these blokes is half as fit as you.” 

“Dinnae you see the fuckin’ knob on Fabio over here? He's askin' for your Venmo. I say you should send it.” Soap chuckled, shocked, flipping back to one of the profiles.

Gaz fought him back, snatching the phone, and you laughed with the others, shaking your head, 

“So… what was that you were saying about a handbag?”

After the laughter eventually died down and the boys had gone home, you helped Gaz clean up the kitchen. Then, you both deleted the app and returned your phones, glad to be done with your little experiment. You decided to tease your man just a little further, 

“Well, you won the wager. What’s your prize, love?”

You expected him to take the bait, to bend you over the counter and claim you possessively, using you to let out his frustration. But, he turned serious, his expression almost somber, and he kissed you softly, disarming you.

“You are my prize,” he purred, “And I’ll do anything to show you how lucky I am to have you.”

“Hmm… anything?” You smirked, tucking your hand into the waistband of his jeans and pulling him closer. 

Finally, that rakish grin you loved so dearly was back, spreading across his face, 

“Name your price, love.”

You pretended to think for a moment, letting your hands wander down into the warmth of his pants, palming his growing cock, playing with it and feeling it throb for you, then you winked at him, 

“I hear Tahiti is nice this time of year.”

He raked his hand down his face, but he was hiding a smile, groaning,

"Tahiti..." Then, after a breath, he snatched you, holding you in his arms, carrying you kicking and giggling to your bedroom, "C'mere, you. Tahiti can wait."

AO3 Link

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (Interlude)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!reader (see series)

Written for @whiskeytangofoxtrot555's birthday from her premise ask 💜 but also serves as a wee prezzie for @blogbog710, @targaryenvampireslayer, @navybrat817, and (belatedly) the lovely @ellethespaceunicorn! (What the heck is in the water?? So many bdays I didn't know about!)

Summary: Your birthday ritual is interrupted.

*You do not need to know anything about this series to enjoy this blurb.* Warnings for suggestive eating, a sweet kiss (literally), cuddling in minimal clothing, but otherwise, just fluff and feels! WC 1.2k

Of course, you don’t always do this. Sometimes you’re out with friends. Sometimes your parents make a huge deal out of late dinner. Sometimes you draw the short straw and have to work the front desk, but not tonight.

The searing red of the digital clock counts down for you (or up depending on how you look at it). Soon—very soon—it will be midnight, and you can wish yourself the first ‘happy birthday.’ To some that might seem sad, but it’s become a ritual of you putting yourself first. Birthday parties may be for children but celebrating YOU should never go out of style.

The red flickers. New numbers. New you. Older, wiser, and alive. It’s a beautiful thing.

Your eyelids fall heavy after your long soak in the tub, the lingering scent of the bubblebath still warm on your skin. You’re content and tired. You hum as a smile tugs the corners of your mouth.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Why you aren’t startled is a hope you don't admit aloud, a greedy, gluttonous vice that piles on to a reality you cannot share with a single living soul except…

Steve Rogers, the fugitive Captain America, crouches outside your window, nimble and stealthy, having climbed to the slant of roof without you noticing.

But you wished for him. You always wish for him to come back.

Your smile grows as you slide off the edge of your bed and press your hand to the pane of glass. He mirrors the gesture, unhurried, soft. It’s just a moment more before you lift the latches and invite him in.

Whispers of ‘hey’ are exchanged while Steve crawls through, but he only answers your surprised “what are you doing here?” with a kiss to your forehead and a long hug.

You taught him how to hug like that. He's taken it to another level as anxiety melts out of you faster than it did in the bath.

His warm skin smells of pine and leather, likely from wearing his decrepit Cap suit to sneak around the woods behind your house. It fits his mountain-man vibe these days--full beard, hair curling beneath his ears, desperate loneliness he uses you to brighten.

You're not sure Steve comprehends how much light he brings to your life in return, but you soak up what you can.

He stands tall, still grinning, and drops a small, structured backpack to the floor. From it he pulls a pastry box, a little pack of candles, and a lighter. He goes through the entire process of preparing your cupcake in his palm before stretching out his hand.

The tiny, flickering flame shimmers in his twilight eyes.

“Happy birthday, Tops.”

As you gently take your treat, it occurs to you that you’ve never told Steve Rogers your birthday. 

“How did you know?”

Technically, the question is casual, but you’re still curious.

His eyebrows shoot up, dramatic and comical shadows cast across his handsome features.

“Well, see, in my…position—” Wax drips onto the towering icing while Steve rubs his neck, guilty and avoiding your eyes. “I have to take certain…precautions, and I was just—” 

“Did you look me up? Online? Do some research, huh? Check up on me?” 

You’re teasing him, but it is fun to see the huge man kneeling at your bedside squirm. His blush is crimson in the candlelight.

You poke his burly shoulder. “You were checkin’ me out…”

“It’s not like that,” he whispers. “Anyway, make a wish, birthday girl.” Steve pushes the cupcake higher in your hold, encouraging you with a wry smile.

Your breath is swift and precise, your desire so clear at the forefront of your mind that picking a wish—another wish, since he’s already here—takes no time at all.

Steve maneuvers himself to sit up on your bed, pulling you to into his lap.

“Good surprise?”

“The best,” you whisper.

You remove the candle and hold the bottom to Steve’s lips. “Lick.”

He sucks off the icing slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You playfully run your finger through the frosting and taste it, too. If you ever told him your favorite cake flavor, you can’t remember that either, but he clearly knows.

“Tasty?” he asks, a swipe of his tongue wetting his lips.

“Uh-huh.”

You take another dollop and offer your finger to him.

He chuckles. “It’s all yours. I’m not fond of super-sweet things.”

“Oh?” You let the whipped, buttery sugar dissolve in your mouth, thinking. “You’re fond of me, so…are you saying I’m not sweet?”

Your concern is overly dramatic, but Steve stares, biting his bottom lip. “No.”

“Then what do I add to the flavor?” You pull down a corner of crimped paper to try the cake itself. He’s still pondering when you clean lingering stickiness off your thumb.

“Clarity,” Steve finally says. “You offer clarity in a very blurry life.”

His hand on your back shifts to cradle your head, bringing you closer until you’re captured in an intense but chaste kiss. He cups your cheek in his other palm and licks across your sweet lips until you open for him. Steve devours you like you are the real treat, uncaring if his offering splats on the floor. It’s not on fire anymore, so who cares?

Something else occurs to you, jolting you to break away.

“How long can you stay?”

Steve pets down his beard, restarting his brain. “Till morning, I guess, but then I should go. I don’t want to ruin any of your other plans.”

Unbidden, you inhale swiftly and are overtaken by a yawn.

He’s wildly amused by that. “Tired, Tops?”

“No,” you lie, feeling another one coming on. “If I eat the rest of this, I’ll have energy.”

“Or—“ Steve plucks the confection away before you can slam it in two bites flat “—you can finish this for breakfast and get some sleep.”

You whine in protest because every minute you sleep is a minute with him wasted. He senses exactly that.

“I promise to stay right here all night. Come on. Get comfy.”

He repackages your cupcake to keep it fresh while you crawl into bed. You’ve never seen Steve have to remove his suit, and to watch, it looks tedious and involved.

“Took a second to master, I tell ya,” he mutters once the top is off.

Another minute and he’s shuffling under the covers beside you, aligning his body to snuggle yours, keeping you facing him.

Again his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin gently. He’s purposefully lulling you, placing the most delicate kisses over your forehead, his beard tickling your nose and making it scrunch up.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You tilt upwards to steal the apology right from his lips. Usually, your time together is dictated by his needs, even if he doesn’t ask for the attention. It’s uplifting to have no worry of caring for him explicitly. This is just you with him, zero pressure, tons of love, nothing between.

“Hey, Steve?”

You wait for the deep rumble of a hum from his chest

“Thank you. I don’t think I ever said that.”

He smiles against your mouth, breaking away with a swift double peck.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls you flush to his chest, sighing happily when you toss your leg over his hip. “Happy birthday,” Steve whispers into your hair. “Thank you for letting me in.”

You fall asleep with him everywhere, in your arms, in your lungs, and in your heart. Your wish is that he never leaves, and for tonight, he’s doing the best he can to make your every wish come true.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries 

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

@mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl @umadirectioner @mrschandlerbing @as-white-as-snow-love

[c0smiclatt3]

DAN HENG: TELLTALE HEART.

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: sfw, fake dating, friends to lovers, mentions and descriptions of blood, death/burial, and war, this could really just be its own fully blown fic idk what im doing here, this is definitely the start of ~something~ i just dont know what

wc: 2.2k

Dan Heng should have retaliated harder when Himeko had suggested this idea in the first place, but he made his stance very clear: he wasn’t cut out for this type of mission and it would likely end badly. But Himeko had only giggled from behind her teacup as she lifted it to her lips, the passing star systems twinkling mischievously behind her like the glimmer in her eye.

“Loosen up a little, Dan Heng,” she almost seemed to sing. “It would do you some good.”

“Surely you and Welt—“ But Himeko cut him off with an almost motherly tut. Dan Heng raked his mind for alternatives, but he worked with the data bank long enough to know this much: the Queen of this planet, a devotee of the fallen Idrila, had lived for a long, long time and had developed an almost perverse interest in the love affairs of humans to pass the eons. After all, what more ridiculous premise in the face of the endless onslaught of time and her immortality than some false promise of ‘forever’? Yes, human love was dramatic - and amusingly pointless. And the Queen revelled in it. Relished in it. Once upon a time the search for Beautiful Love was her devotion to her Aeon, a gift bestowed to her by Idrila themselves: to sustain herself with the heartbeats of her planet's people. For every heartbeat on the planet to resonate through her. The Beautiful Love, then, was something she too would know when she found it. But with the death of her God her mission was but an aimless pastime.

So Himeko and Welt, like two scheming parents, sent you and Dan Heng down to win her graces and grant you two access to the elusive secrets of her court. The goal was simple: put on a show. And make it good.

The two of you had been travelling alongside one another on the Express for a while, but as far as you both were concerned, nothing that would help this mission at all existed between you two. To be sure, you were friends, but that was about all there was to it. If anything, there was an almost brotherly feeling you got from Dan Heng, like a sibling eternally fussing over you or irritated by you or exasperated by you or all of the above all at once. You joined the Express crew before March. Dan Heng had already been there, and so you were his first companion closer to his age.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

When you joined the Express they picked you up from a war-torn planet, one of the only survivors and cowering in a corner of a ruin. Dan Heng remembers a fear in your wild eyes unlike anything he could comprehend. When you lifted your head you looked like prey meeting the eyes of the hunter, and you were ready to run. He remembers your hair matted in blood — whether your own or somebody else’s he couldn’t say, nor did he want to ask. He found you huddled with your knees to your chest. He remembers the way you feebly sprang from under the crumbling brick pile you called a ‘shelter’ and swung a glass shard at him like your life depended on it — perhaps in another situation it really did. Fresh blood poured down from your palm as the shard dug into your skin, your fist closing tighter and tighter around it, but you were running on pure adrenaline and fear. He ducked effortlessly as you cried out, either in fear or to muster the last of the strength left in your malnourished body. He grabbed your wrist, so brittle and weathered away by Gods-know-how-long you’d been on your own he almost feared he broke it. He could feel your hammering pulse in your wrist.

“Hey, hey,” he said, softer than anything he’d said before in his life. “You’re okay.”

Those eyes - gray like storming clouds, gray like the sky before it opened up to rain down fresh water, falling from the sky like liquid nectar from the gods, your mouth opening to drink what little you could gather. You didn't even realize you had been caught in a trance until he spoke again.

"Are you alone?"

If this stranger was your only hope you would take your chances. Before you could even open your mouth, the next thing you did was crumple to the ground and you fell with a soft thud. What you remembered after that was waking up on the Express, and those steely gray eyes you put your trust in peering at you over the infirmary bed, the infirmary lights so bright you took a moment to adjust.

"Do you remember your name?" he asked. You tried to form the syllables on your tongue but they only sat there, heavy and unmoving. A reminder of an identity that hurt too much to remember. Your mother calling you downstairs for breakfast. The children waving cheerily to you on the streets on your way out for the day. The old shopkeeper down the street in the evenings sneaking you a free sweet through the window to reward you for a long day's work. My name... You swallowed and shook your head. From across the room Welt smiled softly in encouragement more so than amusement.

"That works just fine. Namelessness is quite on-brand for us anyway."

You turn to look at your reflection in the medical equipment to your side. What you were greeted with was your entire face wrapped in bandages, wound over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your chin, something like the burial rituals performed on corpses back home. The sight horrified you as you reached up to try to claw the bandages off. Dan Heng reached for your wrist again.

"Don't. It'll only make it worse."

He pitied you. He really did. To be taken from such extreme circumstances and slowly coming to your senses like this, you were like a caged animal cowering back against a corner. Like each time he drew near you would hiss and retreat or snap back at him.

There was no use trying not to cry. This young man had already seen you at your worst. You hung your head low as he held your wrist and wept and wept and wept.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

The Express gave you a purpose, and Gods knew you needed one. You joined without a second thought, and it took months for you to regain some semblance of normalcy. You slowly crawled out of your shell. Pom Pom was too strange for you to get used to. Welt and Himeko, as nurturing as they were, were always a bit too keen to converse for your comfort.

Dan Heng was different. He let you sit in the same room as him without a need to talk. Your afternoons were spent in mutual but comfortable silence. The clicking of keys. Tapping of tablets. The occasional shuffling as he rolls his chair across the room to reach for a book. On days like these you huddled in a corner on a cushion, knees to your chest and a book in your lap. The next morning there would be a new book or two on your stack you didn't recognize from the evening before - a silent recommendation left behind by Dan Heng after noticing the books you seemed to take a liking to. Neither of you acknowledged this, only keeping to your routine.

When you lifted your head as he pulled something up on a data bank screen he always noticed and promptly explained what it was before ducking his head back down. Some rare plant species. Photographs of a temple on a faraway planet. He filled your head with knowledge of the cosmos, and it was amazing to you how boundless the universe really was, imagining that all this was just beyond you during those days on your home planet. He would be lying if he said he didn't find the little shine in your eyes endearing when you listened to him, and he appreciated finally having someone to talk to.

Considering all the records burned with your home planet, there was little Dan Heng knew about you. That was their business on your planet, really: to retrieve some lost records and fill in some blanks, but all they were able to recover was you. Welt and Himeko encouraged him to talk to you as a means to perhaps procure something productive. That was his work after all: collect, transcribe, record. It had always been a routine to him before, but with you it was something different. Watching you, Dan Heng saw the life and death of your planet in your every breath, your every sleep and wake. With your room beside his, he would hear how you cried in your sleep on occasion, tossing and turning and groaning names you wouldn't recall when you woke again. On occasion he pressed his ear to his wall, wondering if he should at the very least knock on your door. By the time he worked up the energy and the resolve, your nightmares grew less frequent.

This much he salvaged from your dazed mumblings: your homeland fell, and when it burned it blazed. And while it did, the Aeons watched it flicker away like another star among billions. You listened to his stories. You used them to replace all that you left behind you. Quiet nodding turned into soft “what’s that?”s, which turned into sneaking a snack in the corner, which turned into the two of you tussling as he tried to shove you out of the room (“Crumbs! They'll get all over the books!” he huffed. “No!” you protested, kicking and yelping until Himeko arrived to put a stop to it), which turned into you stepping into full-on mischief, some ghost of what you had before everything changed. March’s arrival didn’t help much, and soon Dan Heng took it upon himself to wrangle the two youngest (?) members of the Express crew. In a sort of way you two grew up together. In that sort of way, Dan Heng was fond of you.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

So when invited before the Queen you two bowed and you let Dan Heng do the talking, spinning the tale as effortlessly as he spun the stories of the cosmos for you: two outlanders, both faring from different planets, seeking temporary transit as they fared among the stars in search of their pasts together. This much was true. This much was enough to pique her interest. In her territory she could feel the thrumming of your heartbeats, and in her romanticism failed to detect that it was the thrill of deception - and not of some budding romance - that explained your quickening pulses. And you two knew each other just well enough to sell it the right way - you just had to keep it up for long enough.

You two knew each other just well enough that on your first day wandering alone in the local village you scouted the area for libraries, reliquaries and ruins. It wasn't until sundown, when you returned with a map marked out with all the locations to hand to him, that you realized you hadn't even considered what you might want to do yourself.

You two knew each other just well enough that when he returned from said libraries as per your recommendation he returned with a novel by an author you liked - an edition they hadn't yet bought for the Express.

And you two knew each other well enough that later that evening he knew exactly what was happening when he woke to hear you crying in your sleep. What you dreamed of, he didn’t know. But he could piece together enough of an idea.

“Hey,” he whispers, slowly sitting up from his mattress on the floor. “Hey…”

With the window curtain open and the moonlight on your face he could see your brows knitting together, the line of your lips curling into a pained expression as you twitched and groaned. For a moment he felt a little awkward, unsure of what to do with his hands, before he got up and walked to his bag. He knew when you had nightmares you wandered the Express train. And he knew when the main cabin was empty you put a particular record on the record player. He tinkered with his earpiece for a moment and inserted them into your ears. Your lips softened into a relaxed smile. He let out a breath and slumped on the floor against the bed frame.

The intention, romantic or platonic, mattered little. What mattered was the quickening and softening of your heartbeats were felt and duly noted, and the Queen invited you two to her ball, your shot at passage to her court. You had been surprised when the invitation came so suddenly. You held the card, embellished in a rose patterning around the edges, signed off with the Queen's curling signature.

"That was a lot faster than I thought it would be," you tilted your head, turning it in your hands. Dan Heng looked at you, sitting on the edge of the bed from across the room. He hid his face away behind his book. Only he had an inkling why this might have happened, but that he would never say.

writing masterlist | bot masterlist

☾₊ ⊹ AN: this started to go somewhere but i ended up hating it so i've just decided this is a prologue for something that might be longer but im just not sure what lol. i just needed to get this out cus it's been sitting in drafts for way too long and the idea of working on it for a minute longer makes me want to curl up and die. i hope u like it tho!

[music-orthemisery]

Pre-Folie Release Madness of (p)2- A Timeline

After spending a few days in cuckoo bananas world thanks to the video re: Patrick's best man speech, @grandtreeangel and I have some things to slide across the table.

Between October 19, 2008 and November 7th, 2008, FOB played a series of shows leading up to the release of Folie a Deux. Each show featured a Pete/Patrick banter moment that, when put together, creates a very...interesting narrative.

October 19th - Birmingham, England show

Pete making a Top Gun reference to the $20 bar bet scene while Patrick plays the Top Gun theme song.

The scene in question: "Total carnal knowledge...of a woman this time, on the premises"

October 22nd - London, England show

First live performance of Patrick's "Love Lockdown" cover

Please see @grandtreeangel’s post HERE for more context on this totally normal thing Patrick did.

October 25th - Lille, France show

OG "my little cabbage" moment Pete, in French, says to Patrick, "You are beautiful, my little cabbage."

October 27th OR 28th - Blog post

Pete posts this on his Tumblr . It says 10/27, but there's some disagreement on time zones so it may be 10/28. EITHER WAY...

Originally, this linked to a clip from the movie Love, Actually. In this scene, a man confesses his love to a woman who is married to his best friend.

There's plenty of debate about this movie, scene, and storyline in general, but we aren't here for that right now!!!

Let's just focus on the facts:

Woman. Married. To BEST FRIEND.

The man was the best man AND the videographer at the wedding.

This whole moment is done secretly. He confesses, they kiss, she goes back inside and tells her husband it was just some carolers.

In general, this whole story arc is ripe with longing and unattainable love due to a marriage keeping the man from being with the woman.

I...wonder what this sounds like...

October 28th - Toronto, Canada show

Love Lockdown cover where Patrick says, "That's for you, Pete."

Again, Patrick being very normal!!!

October 29th - Blog Post

Pete contributes an entry to Bill's "Mondayeyes" poetry club on friendsorenemies.com:

Credit to @alphadog's post for this HERE

The entire poem is quite impactful, but a few lines of interest:

"Where do you get off?" or more like "how"

and...

"You chose this"

When Pete uses quotes, it's noted that this indicates things that have been said to him.

There are scents and spells that keep us coming together, there are sparks that keep us forever

The art of keeping up disappearances

Also, big hello to some Rat-A-Tat lyrics

Whenever I could make the sweat roll backwards and your pulse stream in reverse

(Big thank you to @dykeandyhurley for sending this to me)

November 6th - Boston, MA show

Pete shares the story about Patrick's best man speech.

Huge props to @predoom for finding this moment!

If you haven't seen Top Gun (?!), the context here is very important:

The line "Ice, fire, or clear," is said in the scene where Goose dies.

Scene: "Ice, Fire or Clear!"

Also, it should be noted that, to Pete, he is Goose and Patrick is Maverick.

The fact that Patrick picks this quote to say to Pete...in his best man speech...at PETE'S WEDDING. A quote said when Maverick LOSES Goose.

AND...apparently no one else in the reception quite...get's it. Pete is the only one who does. That line was just for Pete. From Patrick.

Of all the lines in that movie, he picks that one, from that moment.

Then, of course...

We have "The Kids Aren't Alright."

Featuring the lyrics:

Stuck in the jet wash Bad trip I couldn't get off And maybe I bit off more than I could chew And overhead of the aqua blue

Along with Pete's annotation:

November 7th - Philadelphia, PA show

Patrick sings Lullabye.

Take a peek at this post for all of that mess.

"Well, Bronx was about to be born!"

Sure, sure. I'm not DENYING the relevance there. Just. Go look at the post, damn it. Trust me.

And then...?

Nothing. They take a break, Bronx is born, and then they play a show in Columbus, OH on December 1, 2008. This whole little back and forth ends. Folie a Deux is released on December 10th and...well...we all know what happens after that.

[absolutebl]

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers. 

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying. 

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now. 

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.  

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him. 

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants? 

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you. 

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e!  Also sometimes switch-ee 

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch! 

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan. 

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting. 

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

[baxndaid]

human vox

x reader 📺⛽🎤

an ; request more vox pls i love him, most of this is just me yapping

The year was 1952 and you worked in the upcoming film and TV industry. While it was just a small job reading through scripts to find typos or getting coffee for the more important figures, it was a job nonetheless and you enjoyed it.

A new show had quickly skyrocketed in popularity since its debut, a game show where you would have to answer questions in order to win the, most likely branded, items. Something like a washing machine or a supply of toothpaste. If the producers felt generous that day however, the prizes would rise in value, the show once giving away a brand new sleek black Fiat 1900. While the simple yet new and exciting premise of the show might’ve drawn viewers in, the host of the show made them stay. He was charming and handsome, he always dressed the part with a dapper suit and his hair was always done perfectly. Whenever he spoke, it was like the whole stage brightened up a bit, at least, that’s what you thought. His stage name was Vox, you never really liked that name - too sharp and aggressive, you thought. His real name was Vince, and you liked it better, though you’d never tell him that. You hardly ever had any interactions with the man other than handing him the script that the sponsors wanted him to yap about. He was charming, and you liked him - unfortunately it was just a pipe dream. You didn’t bother chasing after him considering you were just a small time employee while he was the face of the whole show, thousands of American women had their eyes on him especially when they turned their black and white TVs on between 5-6PM.

Fortunately for you, the producers had caught a glimpse of you backstage and wanted to spice up the show a bit. It was getting boring, other than the host himself there was nobody else the audience could attach themselves to. So, naturally, the best idea would be to introduce a beautiful woman, who was smart and shy - the “role model” if you will. You fit the bill, and how could you say no? You would be beloved by every household for your wholesome nature, (and especially loved by all the men in unhappy marriages and liked looking at the young women on screen.) And if you won? you could keep the winnings.

And you would win, because the show was now rigged in your favor.

Simply put, they wanted to paint you as the underdog, the vulnerable lady who simply wanted a chance to make some money. So when you would answer every question, even the ridiculous ones, correctly, the audience would gasp in disbelief at your amazing hidden knowledge and then tune into the next episode to see more of you and Vox. The truth was, the only thing hidden was Vox sliding you the answers to each question onto your desk. It was genius, really, the producers seemed to love the idea and so did Vox. Anything for ratings. You were still a little apprehensive, but you couldn’t back down after already signing the contract.

After winning one episode and becoming around $10,000 richer, Vox strategically pulled you in for a hug and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek to congratulate you for your “victory” in front of the camera. He was an amazing actor, you thought as he said his goodbyes to the audience and the cameras stopped rolling. Maybe he should ditch this studio and try his luck in Hollywood.

Once the room was no longer focused on Vox, he turned to you, his smile less big and forced and a lot more casual, “That was your first taste of show business, how’d you find it? Pretty nifty eh?” He prodded you with his elbow gently.

“Yeah, it was um- different… to what I usually do.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you worked here prior.” He looked at you up and down as he pulled a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket, “Say, since you and I are going to be working with each other from now on, why don’t we blow this antsville and I’ll buy you a drink?”

As he waited for your answer he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. You were surprised and albeit excited by his offer, but you decided not to go out drinking with a famous guy in the middle of the afternoon. Something something responsible adult.

"A drink? Oh, I don't know about that sir... It's rather late."

He scoffed and exhaled, a puff of smoke engulfed you as you coughed. "Don't be such a square." He looked at your face again whilst bringing the stick up to his lips once more, "And don't call me sir, makes me seem old. Call me Vince," He paused, "Or Vox, I don't really give a rats ass."

You nodded and took a small step away from him in a pathetic attempt to get away from the smoke. He smirked.

"I take it you don't smoke?"

You shook your head

"Look at you, I'm not surprised." He took another draw of his cigarette, "So, about that drink?"

You were going to be honest, you couldn't say no. He was so unbelievably pushy that it was practically impossible to turn him down without feeling like shit afterwards. He was THE Vox, America's beloved host! How dare you even think of saying no. So here you were, in his luxurious house, sat on his couch that probably cost more than your entire living room, and with a glass of expensive scotch in hand that he generously poured you.

He returned with his own glass and sat down next to you, laying his free arm behind your head. He took a sip, his gaze never leaving yours,

"You're a pretty thing, can't believe you haven't been casted already, or snatched up by some of the big dogs like Vogue." He said, a smile plastered on his face. "I think you and I will get along just fine."

_____

As he predicted, you and Vox did indeed get on well, normally chatting (gossiping) about who knows what in his dressing room after work. He had told you about his old job as a TV salesmen, and how he has this weird hatred for radios. Something about them being outdated and boring. You never understood. He learnt a lot about you too, your past relationships, your family, your favourite animals - you two grew close and he relished in the idea of getting even closer. The network had given you another job since you could only appear on Vox's show so many times. It was a higher paying job but not all that stressful since you now had someone to talk to about it.

The press had caught wind of your friendship and naturally began to speculate on it. You won his gameshow 3 times now, maybe you simply slept with him in order to get the answers? Maybe it was luck? Are you two truly just friends or are you dating? Or just putting on a show?

Vox loved it, he loved your flushed face whenever you'd read the title of a gossip paper involving you and your new friend, he loved touching you a little more intimately whenever you two were hanging out in public, and he especially enjoyed kissing your hand or cheek under the guise of being a gentleman in front of any fans that just so happened to meet them out and about. Luckily for you, these rumours went nowhere and remained as simple speculation. Did he want you? yes, he couldn't even deny it. You were funny and understanding, even when he wasn't in a good mood. You knew so much about him and he knew so much about you - the fact that you were gorgeous was just a plus. Additionally, you were fantastic for his public image; a darling little thing like you attached to his hip just fuelled his already massive ego since he loved showing you off. The only problem was - you were as dense as a brick. He often got a little frustrated since his flirtatious efforts were fruitless; you couldn't tell if he was being for real or just acting for publicities sake, so you opted on just ignoring his romantic (and sexual) remarks towards you.

And don't think for a second that you'll be getting a real soppy confession from him either. He would buy you expensive clothes and take you out to fancy dinners, he would hold your hand while you crossed the street together and he would cuss anybody out if they were pissing you off. His feelings for you would be confirmed by him sloppily kissing you on his desk one random afternoon after a few drinks and tears; maybe not the most romantic way to say "I love you" but it was close enough for him and close enough for you too.