#I already have one car and my mom is dead set on that being enough

[skzstannie]

“We’d never want you to struggle alone”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays

Hi guys! Here’s my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!

Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!

Happy scrolling!

"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.

It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.

You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.

But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, you’ve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.

As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.

Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because you’re mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.

Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.

You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.

You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.

They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.

Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.

Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?

The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.

A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"

You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.

"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.

"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"

While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?

You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.

"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.

"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.

He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.

"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.

You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.

You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.

He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.

"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."

"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."

"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.

"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."

"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."

"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"

You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.

He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.

You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."

One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

Part 2

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz ninth member #part 1/2

[criminalmindswhore]

Family Affair Ch. 1

An Emily Prentiss x Reader story that will be angsty. TW: mentions of violence and murder, homophobic parents and people, child abuse You stumbled into the BAU not prepared to see your family on the screen. What happens when the family you left behind is dead and your new one is responsible for catching their killer?

You were born into a family where love was earned. Perfection was expected and if it wasn't perfect, it wasn't accepted. You did every extracurricular activity possible to please your parents. Theatre, track, singing, Honors Society, but it was never enough. Even when you graduated top of your class at Yale and then got into the academy. The day you left for Yale there was a huge blowout fight which resulted in you being cut out of the family. 

"Dad I don't want that life. I don't want to come back to this town with the same rude people and run this business." You threw your last bag into your car and slammed the door. Your dad hot on your tail as you walked back inside the house. "You don't have a choice. You either do that or don't bother coming home." You came to a full stop in the entryway, taking a deep angry breath. You pressed your fingers against the bridge of your nose. Your dad sighed, "We love you Y/N and we want what's best for you." You turned towards him and scoffed, "What's best for me, isn't in this run-down town." There was a lingering sadness between the two of you. You knew you couldn't continue to let them treat you this way, and he knew he was losing you.

 "Dad, I need to move on. I can't live in this house anymore it's full of pain for me whether you acknowledge it or not. Kate and I both see it. Mom sometimes does." Your voice softer, almost scared of his reaction. He stood with his arms crossed and feet planted firm, you continued, "Everyone my age hates me, you hate me, there's nothing here for me anymore." Your dad was set off by this, "We don't hate you Y/N! If we did we wouldn't have let you go to Yale and offer to pay for your groceries while you're there." You took a step towards him, "There was nothing you could have done to stop me. I'm on a full ride and I don't need your help." He shoved past you, "You're never gonna make it past freshman year." You paced through the space ranting, "I have been nothing but successful my entire life, what makes you think I can't handle it? Because you won't be there to yell at me or hit me when I get a 97 instead of a 100? Because you won't be there to force me to go to church? I have made something of myself from nothing with no support from you. You have never said you're proud of me once." He grabbed a beer from the fridge, he was yelling now, "I did so much for you! I'm the reason you were so successful!" You scoffed at him, "The reason I'm successful is because I feared for my life when I wasn't. That's not helping, that's trauma. That's why I never told you guys about her." 

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. He stopped walking around and looked at you, your blood ran cold with fear. "Her?" Your brain went blank, you couldn't think of one thing to say to save yourself. "I knew you were one of them. Get out of my house and don't come back." 

Your alarm blaring in your ear jolted you from the most amazing sleep you have ever gotten. "Fuck this." You turned it off and groaned as someone knocked on your bedroom door. "Come in!" You rolled over in your bed now face down in the pillows. "Good morning sleepyhead, I made us coffee and breakfast for the road now get up." Your roommate Garcia threw a throw pillow from the couch at you. You picked your head up and glared at her, "What the fuck Pen?" She smiled at you, already wearing a full face of makeup with her rainbow robe. She closed the door and you rolled out of bed. Dragging yourself into the shower. You loved your job but there was nothing you loved more than sleep. For some reason, your parents were heavy on your mind during your shower. You haven't spoken for nearly 7 years. Your last conversation on your college graduation day. They called to tell you they wouldn't be attending followed by some dumbass excuse. Not that you really wanted to see them anyway, it had been 4 years at that point. Now you were in the FBI, working towards your doctorate. After making yourself look put together and professional you trotted into the kitchen where Pen was sitting waiting for you while she read some new romance novel. You grinned at her music choice this morning, Lana Del Rey. You grabbed your Yale travel mug from the cabinet pouring coffee into it. You turned to Pen, "You ready miss thang?" She giggled, "Y/N you gotta stop flirting with me or Morgan's gonna have some competition." She stood up grabbing her purse and coffee cup. 

The energy was off from the second you two stepped off the elevator onto the BAU's floor. Hotch was standing at the glass doors waiting for you. The team already gathered in the round table room. Hotch pulled you aside and told Garcia to join the team. She shot you a smile before trekking up the stairs. "Hotch what's going on? Is this about me using the word soggy in the report? I couldn't think of a better-" "No Y/N, it's about your family." Your heart drops to your stomach, you suddenly feel weak. "Hotch, don't tell me." Tears sprung in your eyes, all he did was look at you with sympathy. You took off into the round table room, "Y/N don't." You dropped your coffee seeing the pictures on the screen. Images of your parents dead, hands missing. Everything was spinning and the team sprung into action. JJ clicking off the screen, Emily standing up to grab you. Garcia grabs your bag from your hands and picks up your cup. "No, no, no, no." You kept repeating yourself slowly sinking to the ground. Emily was holding your waist to safely lower you down, "Y/N look at me, look at me." You looked at her face and she grabbed your hands once you were safely sitting. "Breathe, force the air in." You didn't even realize you hadn't taken a breath. 

After a few minutes you had calmed down, swallowed your feelings, and stood up. "What happened." You demanded rather than asked the team. Hotch went to speak up, "Y/N you don't want to-" "Aaron, tell me." You glared at him. You knew that town better than anyone in the room, they needed you still and everyone knew it. He took a deep breath, "Found this morning in one of their restaurants by your sister. Hands are missing which is why we were called in. Cause of death is a bullet to the head." No one spoke as you processed. You swallowed the bile that was creeping up your throat and took a step towards Garcia looking for some kind of comfort, she understood and grabbed your hand. "There's a lot of hunters in the area, they would know how to take the- um, hands. My dad was well-liked in the community, and the same with my mom. I wasn't but I haven't been back in over 10 years. My sister never left, she went to community college and then started working for my dad. Is she in protective custody?" Hotch nodded. "Y/N you aren't allowed to work this case but we will be using you as a resource. Wheels up in 10." Rossi gave you a long, tight hug on his way out the door. The team knows you aren't huge on touch so they all gave you a shoulder pat. Other than JJ who stopped in front of you, "Can I give you a hug?" Her voice was full of sadness, and you nodded. She wrapped her arms around you in the Y/N." 

You sat on the jet at the table, Emily beside you, Hotch and Rossi across from you. You were listening to them throw around theories and you filled in with information about the people and town when needed. You weren't completely present, memories of childhood flashing in your head. The bad was taking over the good and you were struggling to find reasons to be sad. You felt psychotic sitting there looking for something good to miss about them. Sure you always wanted them to say they were proud of you, or come to your wedding but the chances of that happening, alive or not, were slim to none. 

Emily placed her hand on your knee sensing the turmoil in your head. Hotch's voice brought you back to the jet, "When we land Morgan and Reid go to the crime scene. Rossi and JJ I want you to go to the medical examiner, Prentiss, and Y/L/N will go with me to the station. Y/N your sister is waiting for you there." Everyone nodded, a thick tension in the air. No one knew details but they all knew you left and never looked back. On top of your parents being dead, they all knew coming back was going to be a lot for you. Emily softly spoke, "Y/N, don't bottle this up okay? We understand it's okay." She gave you the softest, sweetest smile. The last thing you needed was the crush that has been brewing for over a year now to fuck with your head but at this moment you could almost feel love coming off her words.

You walked into the station and spotted her immediately, dropping your bag on the floor and running to the room she was in. "Y/N!" She jumped up and wrapped her arms around you. "Hi, Kate." You pulled her close to your chest. She shook with sobs, from the sadness of losing your parents and because she missed you so much. Tears finally slipped from your eyes, "I'm so sorry I left you behind Katie." She pulled away from you and wiped your tears, "Shut up dude. I told you to." 

"Y/N please go to Yale. I will be okay, I promise. Dad hasn't laid a hand on me in almost a year. You know I can handle this." She sat up to look at up you from the end of the bed. The two of you were lying in opposite directions on your bed, your room packed up into boxes around you. "I just don't want you to have to do this alone," you spoke honestly. She crawled on the bed to lay beside you regularly, "I won't be alone, I have my friends and the dog." She smiled at you, a sadness in her eyes. "I will miss you but you worked hard for this. You deserve to get out of here, god knows I won't. One of us needs to escape." It was your turn to glare at her, "Don't say that, you'll leave this fucked up town too." There was a comfortable silence around you two as you soaked up your last night together. 

You smiled at her, happy to have your little sister in your arms again. You pulled her back to your chest, "I'm so happy to see you again loser." She giggled. She sat down on the couch again, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "Y/N promise me you guys can find the person that did this." She looked at you with pleading eyes looking for answers, you sat beside her. "My team is the best, they will find them. I promise you." She sniffled and swallowed. "I don't know what to even do. Obviously, I'm sad but with our childhood, it's hard to process this." You nodded, "Trust me, I understand. I felt like a crazy person on the plane ride here. I don't think there's one way we need or should feel right now. It's gonna take time to figure out how we feel, but I'm here now. We'll figure it out together." She smiled slightly before a tear slipped down her cheek. Kate reached out to grab your hand, "I'm really glad you're here Y/N." You shivered, "I have mixed feelings." 

Just as you started to feel less horrified of being here there was a knock on the door, and you heard a voice you haven't heard since senior year of high school, "Y/N, can we talk?" You turned on the couch to see Amber Jones standing at the door, badge dangling off her belt. You nodded, patted your sister on the knee, and stood. Prepared for the conversation you've avoided for a decade. 

#emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminalmindsxreader

[housewifebuck]

Do you have any unpopular and/or strong opinions about car care? Products people get or don’t when they should?

I’m in the freaking out about getting a cat soon stage lol

🩵💜🩵💜

hiiii<3 congratulations you have pressed my special interest button! I have extremely strong opinions on proper cat care from the perspective of a rescuer since every day I am faced with cleaning up the messes of people who do NOT take care of their cats properly. I am putting everything under the cut since this will include mentions of animal abuse/neglect etc. And also it’s going to be very long I fear.

First and foremost as I’m sure you will soon be able to tell animal welfare is something I am very very passionate about. Rescue work is my entire life. These are all things I have had to repeat over and over to people who just don’t care/don’t get it and so if some of it sounds aggressive that is NOT directed at you (Michal) 😭 I’m talking to the royal you here since this is advice for everybody.

the most important thing in the world is to make sure your cat is FIXED. if she is coming from a rescue she likely already is, but if shes not, make sure you have an appointment set up to get it + rabies and FVRCP vaccines done asap (I also recommend getting the feline leukemia vaccine, which is not usually done in house by rescues). I would even make the appointment now if you know when you are bringing her home. on top of preventing countless health issues down the road, it will also keep her from reproducing if she ever accidentally gets outside. not only is that awful for the mom cat but we already have enough homeless kittens out there tyvm. PS this is just as important for male cats.

speaking of which, do not let your pet cat free roam outside*. Ever. here is a handy article outlining just a few of the many many reason why it is a terrible and irresponsible thing to do. I dont care if you think you live in a low risk area, or if your cat seems to want to get outside, or if you've had outdoor cats before with no issue. I have had to scrape countless dead cats out of the roadway after being hit by cars because their owners let them outside. Rat poison (very commonly found around peoples houses and in trash cans), if ingested, will literally cause an animal to exsanguinate and die in agony. Other stray cats in the area could be carrying FIV/FeLV or worse. If any of your neighbors grow lilies and your cat brushes against one and licks the pollen from their fur, they will die. There’s just so many reasons to keep your cats indoors I could go on about this forever. if you absolutely must take your cat outside either leash train them (properly, dont just take them out on a leash for the first time and expect them to be okay with it) or get a kitty stroller. But there are PLENTY of ways to keep your cat enriched and entertained indoors. Cat trees, shelves, bird feeders outside, interactive toys, treat dispensers, just to name a few. Go on chewy.com and just browse. They have an excellent selection and great customer service. Another alternative is building a catio! Just make sure your cat receives regular flea/tick treatment year round.

avoid the hell out of those backpack carriers with the clear plastic windows. those are terrifying for cats to be in they feel completely exposed and the ventilation is shit. get a proper hard sided (plastic) carrier. I recommend one with two doors (one on the front and one on top, otherwise known as a top loading carrier). When you travel outside or in the car be sure to cover the carrier with a towel or blanket. This calms them down a lot. The reasons I recommend against soft/mesh carriers are: they are impossible to clean or sanitize if your cat has an accident (very common in the car) or contracts an infectious disease, they provide no protection in the event of being dropped or if you are in a car accident or if you run into a cat-aggressive dog in the vet waiting room, and especially anxious cats can and will fight their way out of them and having a terrified cat loose in your car on your way to the vet is extremely dangerous for both of you.

Expect your new cat to be scared and shy for a few days-to-weeks, minimum. This isn’t always the case, but it is more often than not. I have had so many cats returned for not being friendly enough right away because adopters were too impatient to wait. It takes cats time to decompress in a new environment. I recommend keeping your new cat in a separate room like a bathroom or small bedroom for the first few days so a) it is less overwhelming and b) once you allow them access to the rest of the house, that room will be their “safe space” to retreat to. Also normal when a cat has experienced an environmental shift are: mild vomiting and/or diarrhea (I recommend keeping the cat on whatever diet they have been fed previously and doing a slow transition to your food of choice, + add in probiotics. Proviable and Fortiflora are two brands I like, both available on chewy), hiding in one place for the first 24ish hours, and occasionally stress induced urinary issues such as UTIs. To best avoid the latter make sure their litter box is somewhere they can get to easily without encountering any human or animal traffic. But don’t put it next to their food/water obviously.

And speaking of food/water! Cats tend not to like their food to be right next to their water. I recommend placing the dishes a few feet away at least if not in separate areas of the room. Also, cats by nature do not drink enough water usually so some amount of wet food in their diet is pretty important, and water fountains/bubblers also help get them to drink more. Chronic dehydration can cause urinary issues and more. Dry food is better for their teeth but higher in carbs and a dry-only diet often leads to an overweight cat, and wet food can cause plaque buildup faster but has a much higher moisture content. A balance of both is ideal. Avoid raw diets as well as these food brands: Hartz**, kit & caboodle, meow mix, friskies.

If you keep houseplants, be very very careful. Cats are curious and love to chew on anything that smells like nature and will go out of their way to do so, but a LOT of common houseplants are toxic to cats (for example, every part of the Lily flower, if ingested and not treated immediately, will kill your cat within a day). The ASPCA has a database online to search for plants and see if they are toxic or not.

The rule of thumb with litter boxes is 1 per cat +1. So if you have one cat, you need a minimum of 2 litter boxes, preferably in separate rooms of the house. Corners and secluded areas with little foot traffic are ideal. Make sure the box is the length of your cat standing up + about 6 inches for ideal comfort. Avoid “lightweight” litter; it’s super dusty and very fine and can irritate both your lungs and your cat’s lungs.

Stay on top of your annual vet exams. Even if your cat seems perfectly healthy it’s better safe than sorry, and having a good rapport with your veterinarian makes it much easier to deal with them in the event of an emergency. And on that topic, make sure you know where your local ER vets are + their hours and phone numbers. Cats are tough and resilient but they are also fragile and stupid.

*obviously different rules may apply if your cat is feral or semi feral and cannot live happily indoors. It is not typically a good idea to try and force a feral/working cat to be strictly indoors before they’re ready. But a regular domestic pet cat does not ever “need” to be outside, nor is it cruel to keep them in. This doesn’t always stop them from being interested though, so be careful around doors until you know how your cat will behave around them.

**while the other brands are just low in nutrients, high in filler byproducts, and just overall not super healthy, Hartz brand products (especially their flea and tick medication and shampoos) have been known to straight up kill peoples pets. Like, a LOT. I have seen this happen countless times. Everyone I know who’s ever used a Hartz product has a horror story about it. Do not ask me how they’re still in fucking business.

Honestly that’s all I can think of off the top of my head but I’m sure I’m forgetting some stuff. If you have any specific questions you can hit me up, I don’t mind! Part of my job as a rescuer is educating the public so this is information I am very happy to share. Congrats on your new kitty and good luck!!!!

#catposting #I know some people are gonna disagree with some of this and I honestly don’t care #you cannot even imagine the things I have seen as a rescuer and so many of those horrors could have been prevented by people following #this advice #so yes feel free to send follow up questions or whatever but I’m not going to debate any of this with anyone #asks #office hours

[the-lore-and-art-cave-go-brrrrr]

Apparently being in the car for several hours at a time is very good at giving you ideas for personality’s of characters.

On that note: I’ve decided I’m going to get into the personalities of many characters I have, even if they haven’t ever done anything because they’ve not made an appearance and/or are literally dead.

Shalara/Ocean Aquae: Before I thought of her as a more serious, but since I reworked her and actually got into her backstory a little, plus like what she ends up doing, which is becoming a pirate at some point, I’ve decided that’s different. So now the way I think of her personality is something maybe like Uzi from Murder drones? But not quite. The sort of aggressive nature Uzi has is definitely present, but in general Shalara is a lot more positive and definitely more rowdy. She can still get serious when needed, I figure she’s probably a decent strategist, and given she was canonically in training as a doctor, even with her role as crown princess, she’s definitely able to calm down and get serious. She’s for sure the level head in situations where that would be required, and I’ve mentioned [Redacted] has had to bear witness to that many times, and at least one of them was because he was hurt, and she had to heal them. But that’s how I think of her personality as of the updated design and backstory era.

Magrieus/Zircon Ardor: Magrieus I’ve thought about a lot, and is also possibly the character I have had the hardest time getting an idea on. Butttt given their inspiration as a character is Bronya from HSR, they’d probably be somewhat like that. Serious, possibly a little naive at first, but fiercely loyal, and very protective of those they care about. That’s the best idea I have. I do think they probably have a pretty firey temper, probably something to do with the fact they are half fire imp (and I’ve determined fire imps typically have very quick tempers, which might be cliche but here we are-), but I also have started thinking of them as just a bit of a jokester. Probably very dry humor (which I’ve been told I have so I guess I really do write what I know).

Fultein/Bolt Impetus: Honestly out of all the saviors, Fultein and Astris are the second most fleshed out, with [Redacted] obviously being the first. But Fultein is who I’m talking about right now, so here we go. Given Fultein was pretty much in a leadership role already (the elder of her group was getting pretty old by the time she was 17, so she’d basically taken over in all but name), she’s a pretty serious person. Probably pretty strict in general, but definitely caring, possibly to a fault. Much like Magrieus, she’s fiercely loyal and protective over who she cares about. She’s like the mom friend times eleven. Honestly she’d probably be pretty empathetic. Leaning towards her being an empath much like [Redacted], and she’s one of the people who taught them protection spells and how to figure out if what he’s feeling is actually its feelings or someone else’s. She’s also likely a good strategist, and I’d say she’s a quick thinker.

Astris/Stardust Cometa: Astris is one character I’ve actually done a lot of short story writing off. I have like 8 or 9 notes in my notes app that are entirely short stories about them. But they’re probably one of my favorites personality wise. So when you first meet them, they’d come off pretty serious, but when you do get to know them better, they’d be distinctly not that. They’re a very kind and caring person, who probably is always there with a compliment. Ironically enough the best reference I have is N (murder drones). Like literally they were the embodiment of a golden retriever. [Redacted] and Astris really were out here channeling the black cat+golden retriever partners trope. Though I do think they’d be a quiet guy in general, because of the typical star striker set of powers that they have on steroids. Given one of their powers is the gift of prophecy, I’d wager they’d frequently get visions of the future, so they probably would stay quiet in any scenario because they’re just trying to keep up with their own mind. Kind of like Clearsight from wings of fire. (God I’m in so many freaking fandoms it’s hard to keep up with it all-)

OH BOI- this is the part where I do four (it’s four now! It was three before-) different ones for [Redacted]. Yippeeee

Glow Sidus (Before calamity): I think I have established that Glow was a very very angry person. They weren’t always this way (at this point in time they did still go by she/her so I’m gonna use that), when she was younger she was a pretty chill kid. But eventually the whole being a flock bird in a family of non-flock birds messed with her personality, and she got pretty aggressive as result. This being a result of the underlying abandonment issues of course, but she didn’t really understand that at the time. So that resulted in a very explosive temper (god she’s just like me for real), and as I wrote, this resulted in a very specific incident where, when she was still learning how to control her powers (because having way stronger than average light powers which rely heavily on emotions at this point when you are an emotionally unstable teenager is definitely a good combination), she got angry at her sister, lashed out, and gave her a massive scar. So that resulted in a general fear of herself and her emotions, which in turn lead to an unhealthy coping mechanism known as bottling it all up (once again, just like me for real). Barbs and Aura really were her biggest support system at this point.

Glow Sidus (during the calamity): At this point, Glow had mellowed out a little bit (also now switching to they/them in reference to them for this one), so while they still have a temper, it’s less present, and they’re more so quiet, a whole lot more anxious, and way more serious. Very much the black cat to Astris’s golden retriever. They’re also currently going through basically the apocalypse (this stemming from me realizing the chaos corrupt could very well be like zombies, hence the threat they pose being just that much greater), so there’s more seriousness, depression, and sleep deprivation all around. Plus, as the others die, they got much more withdrawn, and that stuck with them throughout their late teen years.

[Redacted] Sidus (During the events of oneshot): At this point [Redacted] effectively: 1.) lost their parents and sister (allegedly), 2.) lost several close friends (including but not limited to: Shalara, Magrieus, Fultein, Aura, Barbs, and probably some others at this point), and 3.) lost their partner (which probably sucked ass let’s be real). So he’s really going through it at this point. He’s also like 17 at this point so he’s living under the care of Aesteus and Cador, who are dating at this point but not married. He was very withdrawn at this point, mostly just slept. Until Aesteus brought them a usb drive with a certain puzzle game on it (my mom called it that after she played it, and it does say that’s what it is when I googled it, so it’s a puzzle game. A really depressing puzzle game). He starts playing that, figures out damn near instantly that this isn’t entirely a game (and also probably figures out almost as quickly that Niko is not just a character in it), and boom: how to cure a man’s depression. But also how to give them a crisis, because at this time while he’s trying super desperately to get both Niko home, and save the world, he’s struggling with the idea that he’s playing god, given their direct connection with Ludeius. So basically: anxiety, depression, and a whole lot of crisis.

[Redacted] Sidus (present): So I’ve probably shown a good chunk of their personality by now. He’s much more serious, has a tendency to accidentally adopt stray teenagers/children (THE AMOUNT OF SELF CONTROL THIS MAN PROBABLY HAD TO USE WHEN HE MET LIGHT- he was probably going “I do not need to adopt another child. I do not need to adopt another child. I do not-“ and then he basically/legally in one case, adopts Asa and Sage. Also this directly parallels my tendency to get accidentally adopted), and in general is kinda high strung anxiety wise. Honestly tho I don’t blame them, the man had one of his kids get shot, kidnapped, and tortured, which the kidnapped and tortured part extends to the other three, then literally took an explosive to the arm, died, woke up in limbo AGAIN, bargained with Ludeius, committed undeath, and then LOST SAID ARM. He's been through a lot. And is also 25, so like he’s really been through a lot. But yeah, now he’s the mom friend (literally the only way to explain it), and honestly he’s just trying to relax (and not getting too), do their like 3 jobs they have, and not die again (which he failed at once already).

ALRIGHT MAIN CHARACTERS FOR [REDACTED]’S UNIVERSE DONE! Now for the side characters…

Barbs: As I said, Barbs is [Redacted]’s cousin who’s basically MIA. He was rowdy, chaotic, but kind, and he was always there to be [Redacted]’s support when they needed it. They definitely take inspiration from a cousin of mine (who I’m not as close with anymore, but I still remember how it used to be).

Aura: Aura is based off a “friend” I had, which I have mentioned. I’ve mentioned this friend bullied me so heavily that it’s made me forever have a complex about my weight (which is actively unhealthily skinny for my height, and I cannot get it up, which is a bit of a problem-). And as a coping mechanism, because I’m trying to get the hell over her and her “friendship”, I made Aura. And then made her a magpie since those are trash birds where I live (they eat our peaches off the trees, the little shits). So at first, she was a pretty nice person, dry humor and a creative streak that went on for miles. But before the calamity, she started to get a little toxic, saying things that just were… off. It came to a head when, in hopes to save herself, she rats out where the five saviors are, and this results in Fultein’s death. [Redacted] has never forgiven her. But it’s also mostly certain that in the end, she was turned into a chaos corrupt, and died with the rest during the end of the calamity ([Redacted] holding that ball of light up into the air, which explodes and basically just turns the chaos corrupt into dust).

Aesteus: Aesteus is another of [Redacted]’s cousins of which takes heavy inspiration off of mine. They specifically are the oldest of the cousins (fun fact, much like with me and my oldest cousin, Aesteus and [Redacted] are the two eldest cousins. And since [Redacted] is Afab while Aesteus is the first amab cousin, the two were pretty much the guinea pigs of the cousins), and took the role of [Redacted]’s legal guardian after the calamity. They’re a pretty positive person, and they’re just a good support for [Redacted]. Barbs was their little brother.

Cador: Cador is also a pretty nice guy. They’re all around a pleasant person to just spend time with, and honestly I’m pretty sure job wise they’d be a therapist so I guess that could influence their personality. They’re a quiet person, but still talkative, it’s literally their voice that is quiet. I dunno I’m still figuring them out.

It’s time… FOR NIKO’S HOME UNIVERSE.

Niko/Somino Amano: So I’ve done a lot of thinking on this (kinda have to cause they’re like the main focus of one of the blogs), and here’s what I got. For them most part, I’d say they are still similar enough in personality to the canon version. But they do deviate pretty hard from canon in like every regard, so I should probably explain the ways they do that here as well. Obviously they’re a lot more serious, a whole heap of a lot more traumatized (which is very valid, because we have the golden arc, abduction arc, that one mini arc, oneshot itself… oh and now the tide arc soooo… yeah), and also just a lot more sarcastic. Plus now they’ve got some fun light magic tomfoolery they can do, and a whole lot more chaotic energy they get to use on a daily basis. Yeah that’s what I’ve got.

Hoshi Amano: So they’re not very fleshed out yet. I don’t even have their pronouns decided yet, which I should probably do because they’re about to show up a lot more often now that they’ve made an appearance. I’d say they’re just pretty serious, kinda blunt, and probably just a very focused person. They probably get along best with Niko and [Redacted], which is good because they literally share a body with one of them.

Rizu Chowa: Yeah so. We know. She’s literally the chaos gremlin friend. She’s gotten a bit more serious recently, but she’s still chaos incarnate. She’s very loud, pretty rowdy, and very aggressively caring. She’s the one who would threaten to fight you if you dare talk bad about yourself.

Asa Hiru: honesty she’s gone through a lot of change. But her personality is pretty set now. She’s kind of aggressive, but caring, and also would probably threaten to fight you if you talk bad about yourself. She probably reminds [Redacted] of itself when he was much younger. I’ve also decided she may actually be very good at dad jokes. And also she’s very good at going for a long time without needed breaks, which is helpful since she’s a cna with plans to become either an ER worker or a surgeon, so that would be needed. Plus she has steady hands (I could never), which is good. For the nurse thing.

Sage Haiyu: Sage might be my most mysterious character here. With the log notes I did to explain her backstory, I hope I’ve at least made it clear that she’s artificial life, created with genetic code from several people in an attempt to create basically a war machine. One of these people who donated genetic material was the head scientist, and her genes were the most prominent, and included the green eyes and plant and earth based magic. But that’s not what we’re here for. At first glance, Sage is a quiet, kind person who’s usually just listening. But in reality, she’s a very alert person who’s always wary of others. Basically she has major trust issues, but also a knack for figuring out who’s actually trustworthy. She actually has quite the temper, but she’s gotten very good at keeping herself under control. Plus, as an actor, she’s very good at impressions, especially vocal ones, so do with that what you will??

Now for Niko’s familyyyy here we go.

Also I found what name I picked for Niko's mom, and I googled it because I was 50% sure it had something to do with hazelnuts, and one of the meanings of the name was in fact Hazelnut tree, and it made me laugh so hard because I knew I had done something like that.

Harika Amano (Niko's mother): So we know like absolutely zero things about her other than she's really good at making pancakes and also the one thing we see about her in the dream, where she honestly seems just really nice. So that left me some room to interpret. So I figure she's a very nice person, very caring, probably a little sleep deprived (her eldest kid keeps getting into situations, and the twins are chaos gremlins, who wouldn't be), and probably a somewhat worried person in general. She's just worried about her kids, but she's doing her best, and her kids are all very happy to have her as their mom.

Mugi Amano (Niko's little brother): Alright, so. Mugi I decided is the older of the twins, but not by that much. He's the more energetic and loud one, who's typically more active. He's also terrible at keeping secrets and also lying. He's the more extroverted one, but he struggles in terms of learning. I think I'm leaning towards him having ADHD (same kid, same), and possibly being dyslexic? So he struggles there, but luckily he has an older sibling who's really good at the math side of things, and a sister who's basically the fastest reader he knows. So he's doing his best.

Honoka Amano (Niko's little sister): Honoka is the younger of the twins. She's a little less energetic, and quieter in general, but just as chaotic as her brother. She's also much better at secret keeping, and probably lying, though I think she'd always feel bad, so she wouldn't like lying anyways. She's a little bit more introverted than Mugi, but mostly because she's more easily overwhelmed. Leaning towards her having a generalized anxiety disorder, and I think it's possible she might also have a dissociative disorder, though that's up in the air for now. She's pretty good in terms of school stuff, especially in reading, so she helps her brother with that, because it just doesn't make sense to him sometimes. Niko helps her with math too, because math is hard. She's also doing her best. And also given her alternative eye color (blue), she may develop some powers when she's a little older, but she doesn't have any apparent ones just yet.

For the last character on the list (for the time being-)...

The World Machine/Twm: So in oneshot literally what I managed to pick up on (bear with me, can't do tone so I don't know if the intention was for them to sound aggressive, anxious, or what-) is that they were either depressed/suicidal (that part was blatantly obvious, you cannot ignore being told repeatedly that someone desires death), anxious, both of these things, or just downright trying to seem aggressive as a cover-up. But now with the time skip, here's what I've got. Twm is more of a walking entity of sass now, though still with some underlying anxiety. Significantly less desire for death though. They're actually a secretly caring person, who's usually worried about the safety of others (which is something I think they were showing when they were worried about Niko in the game, but again, not entirely certain on this one), and this shows sometimes, especially with the authors other kids, who I do think Twm thinks of as siblings, at least a little bit.

HOLY CRAP IT'S FINALLY DONE- THIS TOOK SO LONG-

#this does not get to count as a dash ramble #not even a little bit #lore dump #also I started this on April 2nd so it really did take a lot of time #so much of this is just me rambling #I don't even know how much of this makes sense

[xoabrielle]

RUNNIN' WITH THE DEVIL [TEOTR 1]

arabella's fateful arrival in hawkins has her staying with her uncle after her mom couldn't take it anymore.

masterlist - next chapter - previous chapter - song link

cw: mention of death/loss, mention of fake ids, mentions of drug use

Hawkins, Indiana - June 1985

Hawkins hadn’t changed since Arabella was six. She doesn’t remember much, but she remembers the smell of farmland and the emptiness of the town in comparison to the bustling streets of Philly. She knew the small business owned by someone’s grandmother or father that was passed down through generations. It was the little things in Hawkins. Probably because that was all Hawkins had to offer. 

At the minimum, at least it was warmer here than in Philly. She was able to finally wear that pair of jean shorts with the black belt and that cream button-down, unbuttoned of course. The small white tank top she had underneath hid enough, even if her uncle Jim rolled his eyes at her outfit. “Do you own a different car? I think one police car ride was enough this week.” 

Arabella said, arms crossed as her uncle drove past the corn rows and into the small town. The Welcome to Hawkins sign could be seen but Arabella didn’t feel welcomed - she felt suffocated. Her mom didn’t waste any time in booking the closest flight possible, she had been dragged home in the cop car on Tuesday and she was on the flight to Indiana by Thursday. “Sorry, chickadee. You did it to yourself. At least you’re in the front this time around.” 

Hopper tries but the joke lands flat, her giving him the side eye as she looks back out the window. Uncle Jim lived on the outskirts of Hawkins, still in the town but his cabin was nestled to where the woods granted peace and quiet. “Figured you wouldn’t mind riding in the Blazer, considering it’s been a while since you rode with me,” Hop says again, Arabella shrugs her shoulders. Maybe under different circumstances, yeah. 

“If I wasn’t being forced against my will, maybe.” She sighs, stretching her arms out in front of her. The bracelet her dad had gifted her rattled on her arm as she stretched, pulling her arms back into the crossed position on her chest again. “It’s like she couldn’t wait to get me gone.”

She slumped against the leather seat as Hopper chuckled, pulling into the cabin’s driveway. The cabin stood on rusty legs but did its job, a few steps lining up to the porch. He patted his niece's leg before looking at her, cutting the engine, and taking the keys out of the ignition. “She just wants what's best for you, Bella. Can you blame her after what happened?”

“S’not my fault she decided to work the day shift!” Arabella defends, putting her hands up in defense. Hopper gives her a pointed look, getting out of the cop car as Arabella follows. She opens the backdoor and slings her backpack over her shoulder and grabs her suitcase, Hopper grabbing the larger one. 

“That’s not an excuse and you know it, kid.” He grunts, walking toward the stairs of the cabin. Arabella rolled her eyes and followed. She knew it wasn’t an excuse, but it had become routine for so long that it's what it honestly boiled down to. She realized that maybe coming home with a new tab on her tongue wasn’t the smartest, but the cop car had already given her state away before she could even make it up one step. “Look; your mother and I both agreed that whatever is going on,” Hopper gestured to where she stood, a disgusted look on her face, “ends now. Before you seriously end up hurt or worse, dead.” He pointed. She nodded at that comment, knowing better than to argue with him when it came to that. It seemed that loss was her uncle’s specialty at times. 

“Doesn’t seem like it’ll be hard now.” She muttered one last time under her breath as Jim was too focused on unlocking the door. A push of the knee does it, both of them walking in as Hopper sets her suitcase down. “You have a singular chair in front of your TV?”

She asks, turning toward her uncle. The living room bleeds into the kitchen, most of hte furniture matching in a sort of weird too late for the sixties but earlier enough for the seventies type of way. The living room had a small TV, a recliner, and a loveseat that looked worn, but loved. He shrugs his shoulders as he lugs the suitcase into what she last knew as Sara’s room. “I’m a simple man.” He retorts, opening the door to reveal two beds instead of one. The room was small already, but the two beds and two dressers left no space to do really anything. The green wood paneling seems to be peeling in places, the one side of the wall is covered in pictures, posters, and notes as Hopper placed Arabella’s stuff on the bed with a red blanket. “You still like red, right?”

Hop asks, looking up at his niece. She nods, “Yeah, uh. Still like red.” Her face paled at the implication of sharing a room with her uncle. As if Hawkins wasn’t enough punishment. “Do you, uh,-” She started, turning to point to the bed with the colorful green, yellow, and pink crocheted blanket on. He clears his throat the, same horrid expression on his face. 

“No, no. Jesus.” He says, a hand pulling at his beard as he breathes, “That’s where your cousin sleeps.” 

Arabella looked at him with raised eyebrows, a puzzled expression written across the girl’s features. Cousin? Last Arabella was concerned, her cousin had died a long time ago from cancer. Besides, by the time Uncle Jim and her now estranged aunt Diane had moved away from the city after a messy divorce, Sara had been buried and Hopper lived alone. 

“Oh!” Hopper says, “No, uh, you're adopted cousin. Name’s El. Big sweetheart.” Is all he gives away as Arabella stands and nods, trying to make sense of the fact she was whisked away to Hawkins for some sort of behavior treatment, and on top of that is sharing a room with a random cousin she’s never heard of. She stands there and nods slowly, Hopper taking that as his cue to leave. “I’ll let you settle in then chickadee.”

She shoots him a thumbs up, slinging her backpack onto the bed as she heads to the doorway. He turns around before calling out her name again. “Mhm?” She responds, turning to face him as he smiles softly.

“Even if it is not-so-great circumstances..”, he starts, nodding to her, “I’m still glad you’re here.”

~~~

After a few minutes of haphazardly spewing her items around, Arabella was finally unpacked. She had shoved her clothes in the small dresser, her shoes under the bed and the pack of smokes she was sure her uncle would confiscate if he caught a whiff of under her mattress, the room was starting to feel a little more like her.

As much, as it could, she supposed. The room door opened and Arabella turned over her shoulder, figuring it was probably her uncle coming to bother her again. She was met with a girl with short brown hair and brown eyes looking at her with a smile. Arabella made a face, she didn’t mean to, but she tended to wear her facial expressions freely. The girl sits down on the bed next to the dresser, watching as Arabella packs the rest of her stuff away. “Hi.”

The girl, who Araella had presumed was El, speaks. “You are.. Arabella?”, her words are spaced out and everything seems to be formatted like a question. Arabella doesn’t think anything of it, just nodding her head. 

“Bella’s fine.” She mutters, turning around to sit on the floor. Her back was pressed against the dresser as she looked at El. “You’re El?” The two girls just stare at each other, not knowing really what to say next. Arballea decides to start the dreaded conversation. “How old are you?”

“I am fourteen.”, El says slowly, almost as if she doesn’t know her own birthday. Arabella draws her lips in a thin line and nods. “How old are you?”

“Depends on what state you’re in.” She chuckles to herself. El stares at her confused, not understanding the innuendo of having multiple IDs. Arabella waits for the girl to get it, but she doesn’t. “I’m eighteen. Have an early birthday.” 

She lets out. She did have an early birthday, considering she’d be graduating high school at nineteen. El smiles, growing up in the lab she never really had anyone to look up to, and she was hopeful Arabella could be something of her sister. Arabella seemed cool, really, really cool. “Are.. are you staying here?” 

El says, eager to learn more about Arabella. Arabella sits down on her bed across from El, looking at El as she sighs, leaning against the wall. “Seems like it, doesn’t it?”

El doesn’t pick up on Arabella’s melancholy tone, only the fact she would be staying here. The bright smile that shines on El’s face is an indicator enough. “We will have fun summer.”

Arabella wasn’t holding her breath. arabe

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #fanfic #billy hargrove smut

[aftgsucks]

NMFTG 21

End of Life Crisis

it's like a mid life crisis but not mid

ao3: chapter below cut

Two days after the parking lot fiasco Drake was found dead in his cell. Apparently, he hung himself. Neil had no desire to look into that and it seemed no one else did either. The guy was dead, who cared about the specifics. Although Seth was quick to point out it was likely the Moriyamas were involved. Neil figured they might as well be good for something, even if it was just taking out the trash. 

One more day after that and Andrew was going to rehab. That morning Andrew ducked into Neil’s dorm and tossed a set of keys at him before turning and leaving without a word. 

“Are those his car keys?” Seth asked. 

Neil looked at the set of keys. “One of them probably is.” 

Andrew came back into the room and pointed a finger at Seth, “Not allowed in my car.” And then turned and left again. 

“Oh, come on!” Seth complained. 

Neil looked at the keys. The car key. One that looked like a dorm key. The third key stumped him for a second and then he realized it must be for his house. Neil attached the keychain to his court keys and then stared for a bit longer. Allowed, invited. Responsibility was an odd thing for a dead man to have and as Neil looked over his keys it dawned on him he had a lot of it. Neil was already dead but he’d never had more to lose. 

“You good man?” Seth asked. 

“I’m fine,” Neil said. 

“Now why don’t I believe that?” Seth asked. 

Neil put the keys back into his pocket. “That is not my problem.”

“What is your problem?” Seth asked. “Because you go on and on about how much you don’t care but I think that’s bullshit.”

Well, who asked him? “No one’s asking you to think, Seth, it can’t be good for you.” 

“You little shit,” Seth grabbed the closest pillow and flung it at Neil. “Stop trying to deflect by insulting me.”

“The only problem that matters right now is you deciding to psychoanalysis me.”

“Caring isn’t a bad thing, you know that right?” Seth asked. “Because you act like someone who doesn’t know that.” 

Seth wasn’t wrong as outrageous as that was. Caring wasn’t bad, it was just hard. 

“What will convince you that I’m fine?” Neil asked. 

“You actually being fine. It’s not rocket science, Bud, you’re unwell.” 

Neil reached over for the pillow that Seth had thrown and threw it back at him. 

“Look, just, why were you looking at the keys like a kicked puppy?” Seth asked. 

Why did Neil want to answer him? Why was he contemplating his answer and not just getting up to leave? “For a long time it was just me and my mom,” Neil admitted. “And we moved a lot, I’m not used to keys this important.” 

Seth very obviously tried not to look shocked that Neil had answered. And then picked at the threads of the pillow for a long moment. “I’ve got parents and a trailer full of brothers back home,” Seth said. “But the first good thing I ever had was my jersey for this team and then the next good thing was Allison’s number. I’m gonna tell you something and then we’re gonna put on a movie with violence and cursing. It’s okay to be scared of good things, Neil, and it’s also okay to hold onto them anyway.” 

True to his word Seth immediately put on a movie called “Fight Club,” having had enough emotion and genuine conversation for the day--Neil hoped the year-- at eleven AM. Which was great because Neil had no idea how to respond to that. 

When people die all of their muscles relax, he couldn’t hang on to a damn thing. 

Neil and Katelyn’s next study meeting happened at the dorms instead of the library. They both took opposite ends of the couch with their workbooks and notebooks spread between them. Aaron sat on one of the beanbag chairs and played some video game. Kevin was watching Exy games at the kitchen counter with his headphones in. 

Katelyn had brought assorted fruits and a brief tap on the shoulder. That Neil, bizarrely, realized was her downsizing a hug into something that Neil would accept. He hadn’t seen her since the game, presumably Aaron had talked to her and seen her and all that. 

When Nicky came in from class he did a double take. More than a double take, Nicky paused in the doorway looked at the three of them, backed out of the room, shut and locked the door and then unlocked it and came back in. Upon seeing that his eyes did not deceive him he then sputtered incoherently “Katelyn? Aaron? OUR DORM, but Andrew, oh Jesus Christ, Neil what did? But Andrew?” 

“Andrew told me to protect you three idiots,” Neil answered, pondering if the twins had been dramatic before Nicky adopted them or if this whole time all the theatrics could be traced back to Nicky. “Katelyn, do you plan to kill the idiots?” He asked. 

“Not today,” she shook her head. 

“There you go, all safe.” Neil said. 

“Andrew won’t be happy about this,” Nicky said apologetically. 

“Then he can kill me about it, stop worrying.” Neil would take that death gladly, once Andrew got back from rehab. “It won’t fall on you.” It shouldn’t fall on Neil either, this whole thing was on Aaron and Andrew but Neil knew that this point that was probably not a realistic expectation. 

Everyone separated for Thanksgiving, it gave Neil a twitch. Dan went off to her stage sisters, Matt went to New York to see his mom, Allison and Seth went with Renee to her mom. And Neil was in Palmetto watching over Andrew’s family and also Katelyn. 

They all went to Abby’s the actual day. Abby and Wymack both adored Katelyn and used her presence to attempt to shame the rest of them into behaving. It really only worked on Aaron. And then only slightly, they were together for a reason. It’s not like Katelyn was necessarily well behaved. She just had better manners than Aaron. 

Nicky had a conniption over the fact that Neil had never celebrated any holidays, not just Halloween. Neil didn’t know how to explain it to Nicky without making the man cry, that Neil’s family didn’t give a shit about traditions outside of the most shallow appearances. That all that time before he went on the run bled together in knives and viscera and all the time after bled together in countries and gunshots and that the majority of holidays had passed by unnoticed. 

He didn’t try to explain. Everyone was having a nice time. He just took a smoke break and tossed his keys up and down idly while trying to place the odd feeling in his stomach.

After a bit Katelyn came outside. “Thank you, by the way,” she said. 

“For what?” 

“I know Andrew doesn’t want me around.” 

“Yeah, well, he’s in rehab and you won’t kill Aaron,” Neil said. 

“I wish Aaron would just talk to him,” she said. “I know it’s complicated, even if he won't give me all the details.” 

“I’m sure it is, I think if either of them let anything be simple the world would explode.” It was probably more Andrew then Aaron. When they met Aaron was drugged and confused, if Neil was a betting man he’d put money on Andrew making things complicated and Aaron being too dazed to realize it until he was already in the middle. 

“Those will kill you, you know,” Katelyn said, nodding at his cigarette. 

“That would be funny, here’s to hoping,” Neil tapped off the ashes and Katelyn laughed. 

It wasn’t until everyone was back that Neil connected his twitch and the low feeling in his stomach and realized he had missed everyone. That it wasn’t just idle worry about Riko getting to them while they were out of town, but that Neil wanted them around. 

He was so dazed by the realization that he’d gone straight out to the grass behind the dorms immediately after saying hello to everyone. And then Neil’s own stupid pointless emotions had smacked him again after he’d looked over his shoulder for the eighth time and realized he'd been waiting for Andrew to wander out after him. 

Just when he thought he was as dumb as it gets, somehow Neil gets dumber. Neil heard a voice in his head that sounded depressingly like Seth saying something about good things. And Neil just put out his cigarette and flopped over face first into the dirt. 

On his way back to his dorm room Renee intercepted him. 

“Would you mind sparring with me?” She asked. 

And yes, actually, he would. He’d mind a lot and quite possibly hurtle into the wrong end of a breakdown. He knew Renee could fight which meant he’d likely forget it was sparring and not survival. But Neil looked at Renee for a moment before outright refusing her. One hand on her cross, the other in the hem of her shirt. Her eyes were foggy and her lips were shaking almost imperceptibly. She looked like she was about to crawl out of her skin, he hadn’t seen her like this since that guy had shown up with a gun. 

Neil recalled that she’d had a hearing about that fuck over the weekend, back in North Dakota. He still wouldn’t spar with her, but maybe there was something else. Neil tried to think of things that calmed him down that weren’t his own impending demise or cigarette smoke. 

“What if we dyed our hair?” Neil asked, he was out of dye anyways. “Would that help?” The process was borderline ritualistic for him and Renee’s hair was always done. It felt like a fair guess. 

“Actually, yeah, that could work.” She said, her hands dropping to her sides. “Let’s be impulsive.” Her smile was closer to deranged than serene but Neil figured it was good enough. 

And so they took Andrew’s car to a department store and stood in the neigh endless hair dye aisle. Neil reached for the brown hair dye and stared down at it. 

“You dye your hair?” Renee asked as she picked out a new palette to dye her ends. 

“Yeah,” Neil said. Be impulsive. Oh, fuck it. He put the brown dye back on the shelf. “I can do whatever I want,” he said in a quiet voice. Mary was buried on a beach in California. He’d be dead in a matter of months, nothing fucking mattered. 

“Well, within reason,” Renee said, amused. 

“Whatever I want.” He reached for the bright orange hair dye. And then he put it in Renee's basket. She giggled as she looked at it and then grabbed her own box. 

Neil led her over to the electronics section and they both dug through the DVDs until they found a boxed set of Looney Tunes. Then they went to clothing and Neil found a bunch of horrendous looking button ups. They were all busy patterns and obnoxious colors. 

Renee with a grin much closer to her own put a wide brimmed straw hat on his head and Neil decided he would wear it to class everyday. 

He bought fresh strawberries and Renee got herself a pint of raspberry ice cream. And then they went home. Neil took a brief detour to pull out his contacts and throw away the whole stock of them. Then they put on cartoons and they dyed each other’s hair. 

Neil discovered that Andrew’s impersonation of the Roadrunner was impeccable. Meep Meep, indeed. He immediately told Renee and she laughed before looking thoughtful. 

“I had something else I was going to ask you,” she said. 

Neil gestured for her to go ahead. 

“Andrew was supposed to be my date to the banquet. Would you mind stepping in?” She asked. 

Neil might be fully losing it but he still didn’t want to tell Renee no outright. “I am not attracted to you in anyway shape or form,” he said bluntly. It wasn’t a no. 

Renee laughed. “For the record I’m also not attracted to you, or Andrew for that matter. Friends can go to these things together.” 

Oh. 

“I’ll probably be a poor date, I’ve never been on one before so I don’t know what you’re supposed to do.” 

“Well, I’ve never really been on one either,” Renee admitted. “Andrew and I, it was mostly so neither of us had to bring anyone else and to mess with the others a little bit. So, I’m not sure either.”

Neil wanted to be a good friend date. And he was on a roll for decisions that would piss off his mom today so he just went with it. “We should ask Matt,” he said. Matt had been dating Dan long enough that clearly he had to be good at it. He was also the least like;ly to give them shit about it or tell the others immediately. 

“Okay,” Renee agreed. “Tomorrow.” 

Neil nodded and got up to wash out his hair. 

By the time Allison and Dan came back into their dorm room Neil’s eyes were blue, his hair was fox orange, and he was wearing a shirt that made Allison immediately mime throwing up. 

Renee had pink, green, and orange highlights all throughout her hair and looked like she was living in her body again. All in all, it felt like a successful day. 

“Please,” Allison begged. “I bought you nice clothes, what is that?” 

“My new shirt,” Neil said. This is exactly what he had wanted. Something loud and ridiculous. This one had a black background and then neon swirls and planets all over it. 

“I think you both look great,” Dan said, grinning. 

Neil went over to the shopping bags and pulled out his new hat. “I’ve decided to be a hat guy,” he informed them.

“Kill me,” Allison begged. 

“Kill me first, coward.”

#nmftg #no more fucks to give #aftg fanfiction

[ramblingdisaster73]

Thoughts while rewatching 4x01 - 4x04 -

Episode 4x04 - this does include thoughts that span the whole arc - so spoilers ahead.

Excellent opening – great set up to the creepy mother/son duo

·  She is so matter of fact about the blood and shovel

·  But so happy for Carlos that he is engaged

·  So polite to his kidnapper – polar opposite to TNT when they were kidnapped in 2x08

·  She is so unconcerned about the dead woman in her pantry

·  Thunderwear

·  Not a fan of the FBI lady that says they are done with Owen in the last ep, then is back to it in this one.

·  The Instagram comment was funny

·  agreed with the FBI lady when she said it would be great if O’Brien was going to get rid of the witness

·  I still think people should only go to Owen for advice about fires, aliens, health food recipes, & skin care.

·  There is a whole ass body blocking the door jam – the only fix to that is removing the body.

·  Rafa does so well in these scenes – his total disdain for the man, trying to sympathize with the mother

·  These creepy fucks are so matter of fact when they talk about how to kill Carlos

·  I guess at least they agree that they don’t want blood

·  At least Marj agrees with TK that something is up with Carlos ghosting him

·  I knew he would get Nancy to call either Carlos or Iris – I even had it in my spec fic

·  The way Mateo realized right away that something was wrong when Nancy asked about the visitor logs

·  Also, how calm Nancy remained when she was getting info that she knew was going to be bad for TK

·  Honestly, I would have made their ears hurt with the bike too

·  I love that TK knows Carlos enough to know that this isn’t right, that the behavior is the opposite of everything he knows of Carlos

·  The Grace call was great – “Its not completely illegal, it’s not completely legal either.” Then just doing it

·  This dude is a dick to his mom – but she still helps him with his murdering (even if it is just not telling on him & feeding his victims)

·  The bluebird song while creepy man is taking Carlos’ car is interesting

·  The scenes with Owen & the nazi biker gang were honestly fairly anticlimactic – only served to take me out of the rest of the episode – Now, had they done some of this when Carlos wasn’t being held captive – then maybe they would have had more of an impact

·  Literally going to everyone to try to find Carlos

·  I love that we are getting to see the Reyes home – I never thought they lived on a ranch – just that they had one in the family

·  The only person with a braincell at that table in the roadhouse was O’Brien – Owen had already used all of his up in the last episode

·  Gee no wonder he wanted to join the MC – you gave him a cool nickname – “Honor pup”

·  “I’m a fireman – our codes are like, Fire!” Was a great line with great delivery

·  We’re screwed – not really, apparently the MC finds ya’ll to be a joke

·  I always apologize to the people for the mess I made when they bashed my head with a shovel. Make more of a mess babe. More mess.

·  I think she does truly regret having to hurt Carlos – but her blind love for her murdering son is her downfall

·  Oh, her again – she needs to be moved to another department – she isn’t that great at finding living missing people – or believing people when they were missing about why they were missing

·  This episode does NOT make the police look good, like not a single one of them

·  TK speaking the truth about how the detective treated Iris – especially as one of the paramedics that treated her.

·  TK was there to watch this detective blow off Carlos’ concerns

·  I love that Gabriel acknowledges his failings as a parent – if only another father will do that this season (I know that Ronen has been teasing a “beautiful scene” that explains their relationship)

·  Of course, your serial killer son wouldn’t like an increased police presence in his neighborhood – he might get caught – at least if the members of the APD that were present were competent.

·  “I love the Gays.” – this just makes me think of SJP in The Family Stone “I love the gays.” Like it is on repeat in my head

·  God, Ronen killed this ep just as much as Rafa – the police station scene was great for him

·  The “you’re not the only that loves him TK” part of Gabriel’s speech was not something I enjoyed – because at no point did TK ever think he was. The rest of the speech was just fine & got the point across without that dig. I know a lot of people loved it, but for me, it just added a bit of you don’t matter – just remember that – to it, for me. He was trying to understand why Gabriel was so calm – he wasn’t acting like he was the only one that loved Carlos

·  Detective TK to the rescue – the useless one just discounted anything about the other victims because of their mental illnesses. Didn’t look at anything as obvious as the fact that they all went to the same pharmacy

·  Details matter detective – a paramedic shouldn’t be doing your job for you

·  Still so polite to the creepy lady

·  That she has to refer to eating the cookies she made as Stealing some of her own cookies says a lot about the relationship with her son

·  Yes, hearing someone screaming in the neighborhood that you are looking for a missing person in, then just shrugging it off is excellent police work – on par with the rest of the police work this episode

·  I like how he could just take 3 vials of morphine like it was no big deal.

·  Carlos is correct – that man is not capable of loving anyone

·  His words about Gwyn & TK were so sweet

·  Finally got through to her, too bad it was when her killer son got home

·  He should have just kept pelting him with the hot pan

·  TK going into paramedic mode, but still doing what he could to comfort Carlos

·  The way that Gabriel started dropping his cop mode once he saw his son on the floor – I think that the gun in his hand was the only thing that kept him in cop mode at all.

·  “You just died” at least TK was able to say that to someone else now. The look like “Wtf is wrong with your” from TK that followed that was amazing

·  The parallels from 2x08 are plentiful – but also to several other episodes

·  Cool – Owen made the 126 targets again – what a surprise

·  So, after watching it all the way through – the thing that would have made the marriage thing totally not a big deal to me – would have been to either have it not be a secret to TK, just to us the viewers (could have been off screen like so many other conversations) or if they had acknowledged it was a lie – even if it was a lie by omission – your legal marital status is kinda important when you are PLANNING A WEDDING.

·  One of those two things would have made this all make enough sense that I didn’t have to do Olympic level gymnastics.

·  Instead, they acted like not telling the person that you own real estate with, that you agreed to marry that your are already legally married is totally normal. Then when this lie caused a delay (as temporary as it may be) to the short ass time frame that Carlos gave them – TK goes to find out why – and then everything else is his fault. Even if it is just to himself & the large portion of the fandom that froths at the bit whenever they can jump all over him.

·  Personal note – I do see this particular issue through my own irl experiences. I am the TK in my life – the one that gets blamed for everything – even the things that are beyond or no where near my control. This is probably why it annoys me so much how eager the writers and a lot of viewers just use him as a vessel of blame.

·  The Owen storyline is dragging on – for at least 2 more episodes – can we please have a break from anything Owen only centric until the next season.

·  No Tommy or Grace in 4x04 felt weird

·  CAN’T FUCKING WAIT FOR 4x05 and Marjan’s storyline

·  The acting is superb

·  If they hadn’t so frequently spoiled that Carlos is fine after 4x04 long before 4x04 aired – I think I would have found this to be more intense or suspenseful – but it wasn’t – knowing that he was going to be fine.

·  However, that did make it so I could just pay attention to the acting, the dialog.

·  I don’t think I can say enough about the acting in this episode – this season. They have all been at the top of their game & I am grateful for it.

·  There were so many quotable moments in this episode that will stick with us for a long time

·  They are doing a lot better job with making us guess on what happens with Marjan than they did with Carlos – she hasn’t been in any stills after 4x05

·  Ready to see more Paul, Marjan, Nancy, Mateo, Judd, etc.

#911 lone star season 4 #911 lone star spoilers #my thoughts

[pbandjesse]

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates. I don't particularly love the connotations of Thanksgiving, but this year I really do want to focus on what I am thankful for. I still want to remember Native American people and their plight. But I particularly feel like I need to acknowledge the things and people I'm thankful for. Like James being home and not dead. Like my dad healing. Like my mom and Jess showing up for me when I need them. Like my brother coming to my wedding. I have a lot I am thankful for.

Last night was rough. Thank you to anyone who reached out with kind words. James was up and down every couple of minutes. I would think we had them in a comfortable position. They would even start lightly snoring. But then they would jolt awake and stand up and start to pace. I felt horrible. We tried having them sit up in a chair. We tried lots of pillows. Nothing kept them comfortable for very long.

I would eventually fall asleep. And James did apparently get a solid hour. But it was not enough. They were and are exhausted. I really hope tonight they can sleep.

I woke up and James was next to me. I was glad they were here. I missed them so much.

We would slowly get up. I made the bed. James took a shower. I called my dad. He encouraged James to think of the pain as healing pain and not injury pain. I hope the mindset helps them. I am pretty sad I couldn't be with my parents today. But it was the correct call. James was not going to do well in the car. Just the little drives we have made have been rough.

But we didn't worry about that right now.

Once James was dressed they decided to go for a walk. I would get washed and dressed while they were gone. I picked up the apartment a little. Put the chair James tried to sleep in back in the living room. I was thrilled to see Waffles and Omelette were swimming around and seemingly doing really well.

James had finished the Lego lunar rover so I found a safe place to store that.

And soon James was back. I was eating cheese and crackers. And they said we should get to work on what we were bringing to Thanksgiving.

I wanted to make spoon cornbread and a sort of pudding dish. We did not have the jiffy corn bread mix I thought we did. Only blueberry muffin mix. So I looked up how we can make it at home and James got to work on that. They would keep trying to do stuff and get overwhelmed and almost be crying and then I would be distressed. I wish they would stop apologizing. I want to help. I want them to let me help.

I also wanted them to eat. But we didn't have buns so they couldn't have hotdogs and so they had a muffin instead. Which was not the protiens they wanted but at least was something. They lost 8lbs in the hospital. Which is real scary to me. They are already thin. I don't need them weak when they are already unstable.

But James put together the cornmeal mixture for me. And I would make my cornbread in our le cruset Dutch oven. Which took a half hour longer then it should have because it was so deep. But smelled great.

My pudding did not go so well. It wouldn't set up. This is why I prefer the quick serve one and not the cook kind. But at least it tasted good. Even if I was slightly disappointed when it wouldn't set up and all the wafers I used as a bse floated to the surface. At least the mango gave it a nice flavor.

The plan was to go to the Changs' (pronounced Chongs) house at 3. James had their next pain medicine dose at 230. So we would leave after that. And so while I waited for the cornbread to finish baking, I chilled on the couch and started the second glove I hadn't gotten to yet. So at least that's progress.

I packed up the cornbread in our new yeti tote bag. Which is excellent. And grabbed my bag. And we headed out. James shouldn't be carrying anything so it's on me. Which is fine. The drive was a little nerve wracking. But James got to show me where the accident happened and it makes a lot more sense now. Like that driver shouldn't have turned so fast and without warning. But at least I can understand where and how it happened.

We got to the Changs' and they really have such a beautiful home. I had been there once before. But it's just like. Maximalism and funky and full of small objects and art. And just rich colors and it's so cool. And we got a huge warm welcome. Everyone just being so happy James was there and only a little worse for wear. After a few minutes of gushing over James everyone went. Oh also hello Jesse. Which made me laugh.

The Fulwilers would soon be there. And I got to meet some other Chang friends and family. Jamess aunt Katie (she is actually their godmother)'s cousin was someone I ended up talking to a lot. Showed her a bunch of our wedding stuff. Actually made her cry!! Which I did not mean to do!! But she really said some nice stuff about the wedding pictures and that felt nice.

I really did have a nice time. We sat in the backyard for a while. Enjoyed a firepit that Julien lit. There was smoked fish and roasted garlic. The roasted garlic was so good.

And as the sun went down we went inside to get the real food.

Katie made amazing bread. And I enjoyed basically everything I had. Except the cranberry sauce but that's just because I only like the jellied kind that comes in a can. But everything else was amazing. James was a little unsteady and their medication was starting to wear off. So I would make a plate for them. And we would eat inside with the young people and Anne. And I got to tell them about when I was part of a lawsuit and how it let me and James get in this apartment. How we have always been so lucky.

I could tell James was starting to not feel well. So once everyone was back inside I said thank you to Katie and goodbye to everyone else. I wish I gave more hugs. But I needed to get James out of there and the long goodbyes we normally have werent going to work this time. This was a we have to leave now situation. So maybe I was rude. Whatever. James is more important to me.

And so we went home. James brought a plate of dessert. And they carried that. I carried our bag. We saw a couple dancing on the sidewalk by our car and I jokingly said I should set off the car alarm. We had a big laugh over that.

We got home right at 630 when James's next medication was due. Perfect timing.

Jess had been having a hard day. She's in Florida with her mom visit family. And apparently no one was helping with anything and she was feeling really uspset. But at least her food was delicious in the end. And my parents had diner for two. I am not sure what my brother did. I hope he had a good day too.

I was glad to be home. James was walking really slow. But we got inside. And we opened the Christmas diorama egg we have. Which we have decided is what we will do at the end of Thanksgiving every year. Gotta start traditions somewhere. And the ceremonial opening of the egg will be one of them.

We wound wind down. James took their medication. I put the dishes away and took a shower. Fed all the animals. I took an excellent bath. And then played Pokemon. I am very excited that I have caught almost all the Pokemon I have encountered. I only have two left!! Of 239! So close. I haven't played much in the last few months but it was fun to sit on the couch and play with James watching.

James would make me a thanksgiving snack. And we would just spend time quietly together.

And now we are in bed. I am really tired. James keep falling asleep for a few minutes. I hope they can get more comfortable tonight. We will have to see.

My allergies are going a little wild and my ear really hurts. But I feel stupid complaining when James is hurting so bad. Like I know it's not a competition. But still.

I am going to try to sleep now. We have the next few days together. Which I am really grateful for. I just hope James can start to heal.

Thank you again for everyone who reached out. I love you all. Stay safe !! Happy Thanksgiving.

[soperatic]

seven minutes (in hell) with you

chapter three

When Taehyung takes his first step into his future home, he is hit with a powerful and painful wave of nostalgia. 

Jeongguk had Hoseok text Taehyung to come and see the apartment that he’d be moving into before they needed to sign the lease and he hastily agreed. He isn’t that interested in checking the place out, already knowing that hundreds of students must have their eyes set on the place like vultures on dead meat. Paradise apartments are known for being pretty and well-managed but he supposes it’ll look good if people saw him going to Jeongguk’s place. Legitimize this newly sprung-on relationship some more. 

So he got ready, moved his check-in date to an earlier time and had his mom’s assistant put some things on hold for him for later. He dons his pleated white pants, a cream colored shirt and a yellow sweater vest. Pearls on his wrist and neck along with a delicate gold chain with a flower pendant. His hair looked messy enough where his curls fell naturally over his forehead. Looking perfect as always. 

But his peaceful morning turned rough fast with some lovely texts from Doeun. 

Taehyung played nicely, despite wanting to rip the little shit’s head off by reaching through his phone speaker. He’s constantly popping up at the worst fucking times. Just when Taehyung thinks he can pull his head up out of the water to breathe, Doeun is tugging him back down, filling his lungs with the liquid instead. 

doeun 

i need to see you right now

taehyung 

 i have class in an hour

doeun 

more than enough time then

He curls his fingers into his palm, trying not to lose his shit so early in the morning. 

Doeun isn’t going to leave him alone that easily. It'll take a crowbar to wrench that leech off him but that’s only if he does it himself. Taehyung needs someone that can take him down. 

He’s hoping that Jeongguk can help. 

taehyung 

look, i’m busy 

i can only see you after class

besides, we can’t be doing that anymore. 

He has Jae now. He doesn’t need Taehyung. He shouldn’t need him. 

doeun

i know that. why do you think we haven’t done it in a month?

don’t try to be smart with me taehyung

you’re pretty so let’s just stick with that okay? 

2:30

in my car

Taehyung doesn’t respond. He wants to chuck his phone out the window and watch it get run over by a semi-truck then change his name and hide for the rest of his life. He’s never hated someone this much until now. A simple text can flip his mood to a completely different end of the spectrum. The sheer sight of the guy catapults him into the heaviest state of anxiety. 

He was such an idiot this summer. A careless idiot with no idea how much he’d fuck things up later on, only caring about sex and fun. Now it feels like everyone else is picking up after his mess.  

But Taehyung doesn’t know what else he can do to get Doeun to lay off. Every time he meets up with him, there’s another thing he has to do. It’s just a constant cycle of favors and he’s completely fed up with it. He has to get Jeongguk to help. Maybe intimidate him or something since he’s got some muscle now. His dad could also help since he’s a law professor and all. Something, literally anything, would be of great help. 

A ten minute drive later and Taehyung is dropped outside the building which stands tall and luxurious, similar to most modern highrise apartments in Seoul with clean windows and white exteriors. The parking garage starts on the ground floor where people park their fancy cars and motorbikes before going further underground. Taehyung thinks he spots Jeongguk’s Mercedes among the slew of Porsches and Audis. It leads into the main lobby where people come in by punching a unique code. Jeongguk did him the favor of texting it to him. 

0613. The door unlocks and Taehyung enters the lobby. It’s just as majestic as he’d imagined, with marble floors and pillars. There’s no one at the front desk, just an empty hall with some elevators and a door for stairs. The walls are stark white and the floors are made of pristine black and white tiles laid out in a simple pattern. A map is hung on the wall which tells him about all the amenities offered in the building. The air smelled a little lemony from cleaning products. There’s a rec room and an indoor pool along with a spa and a study room down the hall for students to use. If Taehyung listened closely, he could hear people giggling in said rooms. 

Quickly, he takes the elevator and gets onto the 2nd floor where Jeongguk’s apartment is. The elevator is nice, cold and empty. There’s a poster hanging on the left wall with phone numbers for the police and a sexual assault help line. The right side is a cheesy poster about peer pressure. It makes Taehyung snort to himself. 

As much as you try to market things like alcohol and drugs as bad things to students, the more inclined they are to try them. Turns them curious. 

When the door opens, he sees an empty hallway with rooms on either side. Some have placemats, some have doors with whiteboards or funny signs. Someone even hung a poster of IU as an angel on their door.  But Jeongguk’s door is completely bare. Just a simple dark gray placemat outside and not a single drop of personality. Pretty much like him.

Taehyung rings the doorbell once and knocks, practicing his brightest smile to greet his brand new boyfriend. There’s not a single soul out here but who knows, maybe they’re staring at them through the peephole or hiding behind walls to study them. He wouldn’t be surprised if at least one person was tracking his every move ever since those pictures came out.

The door swings open a few seconds later and reveals a full mouthed Jeongguk chewing. 

“Morning baby,” Taehyung grins and holds up a warm americano he picked up from the cafe in the lobby of his hotel. His body leans perfectly on the door frame, and his legs cross over delicately. “Had breakfast yet?” 

Jeongguk looks back at him indifferently for a moment before rolling his eyes and ignoring both his greeting and his question, stepping to the side to let Taehyung in. 

“You’re twenty minutes late.” 

Jeongguk looks rather funny in the mornings. He’s always hated waking up early so his hair is still messy and his eyes bleary but his black oversized Balenciaga t-shirt and wide legged jeans really complete the disheveled emo-hobo gone chic core he’s got going on.  His cologne wafts over to Taehyung, smells expensive and clean with notes of cotton and violets. Doesn’t fit his aesthetic but it strangely fits him. His eyelids are low and his lips are lighter and a little cracked without the slight tinted lip balm he always uses. 

“It’s called being fashionably late, my darling,” he coos. Jeongguk snatches the drink from his hands with a low grumble and shuts the door behind him. When the self-lock clicks shut, Taehyung’s nice demeanor fades. “Okay, we really need to work on your acting skills.”

“No one is out right now.” Jeongguk turns his back to him, shaking out his hair. 

“Someone could’ve been listening through the door,” he argues. “You’re such a fucking dumbass sometimes.” Taehyung’s head shakes. Jeongguk is way too lax about this entire thing! 

He toes his shoes off and when he inhales he is hit in the stomach with something familiar that makes him pause. The apartment smells like those specific candles, the handmade ones you buy at expensive grocery stores made from the purest wax and real fragrance. 

The kind that Jeongguk’s mother always used to buy. 

His house always smelled like this fucking candle. There seemed to be one in every corner, lit with a crackling wick and scenting each room completely in its saturated, soft, flowery goodness. 

Taehyung tries to swallow down bitter saliva when his brain throws a slew of memories at him like their back-to-back sleepovers where he’d be chasing Jeongguk around in his backyard while playing tag or going diving for “treasure” in his pool during the summers. Matcha cookies and pork grilled to perfection by Jeongguk’s dad after a long day in the water. He remembers movie nights on the floor of  Jeongguk’s bedroom, turtle chips and cheese balls in the middle of the night, playing on each other’s DS for hours on end and sleeping next to each other on his bed until Taehyung would eventually give in and throw his arms around the younger because he needs to hold something to fall asleep. 

It’s amazing how a scent can trigger such painfully sweet memories. 

He shakes his head and looks to his side by the entrance. There’s a small shoe rack with pairs stacked neatly. Taehyung sets his loafers down next to a pair of chunky Prada boots then looks up at the younger, hoping that the painful twinges he’s currently experiencing aren’t obvious by his expression.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, seated at the counter where barstools are lined underneath. He’s got a bowl of cereal and cut fruit laid out next to the to-go coffee cup. “Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now. I have class in a bit, I have to finish breakfast and we still need to drive to the housing office to sign the lease so you can move in before the line gets too long. So just look around or do whatever you have to do and quickly,” he waves him off, taking a bite of his corn flakes. 

Ideally, he could walk away after getting scolded like an annoying child but no, Taehyung is not letting him get away with that. No one speaks to him this way.

“Only if you give me a tour.” His arms cross over his chest defiantly, raising a single eyebrow. Slowly, Jeongguk turns his head to his gaze and if looks could kill, Taehyung would be buried six feet under. 

“Do your legs not work or something? Tour it yourself.”

He ignores the sting in his chest. “As a future rent payer, I demand a tour.” He balances on the balls of his feet, looking oh-so innocent with the straw of his half-empty watermelon juice between his pink lips. “It’s the least you could do for me after I saved your ass back there with Jae.” 

It’s not like he really needs a tour but he needs to establish the relationship here. Or, re-establish. Taehyung is older (born a year before in December) and he came up with this entire idea of fake dating so Jeongguk, being the younger one, should be grateful and stop being a little shit by giving him a tour. Paying him back and all that, you know? 

His eyes flash with anger. “I didn’t ask for–” he stops himself and clenches his eyes shut for a moment before letting out a pinched, shaky exhale. “Fine, I’ll give you a stupid fucking tour.” Jeongguk glares at him. 

Although Taehyung is so curious as to what he was going to say. You didn’t ask for what? 

Didn’t ask to be in a fake relationship with me? 

Jeongguk gets up, taking his bowl in his hand, and mutters under his breath about wanting to end it all before starting.“This is the kitchen,” he lists in a monotone, pointing to the open kitchen with rustic wood cabinets and cream marble countertops. There’s a rice cooker, air fryer and a French press lined against the gray tile backsplash lit up by white LED lights under the cabinets but besides that, spotless. No pans on the induction stove, not even a mug in the sink. A microwave above the oven and right next to that is an impressively large fridge. There’s that offensive lit candle next to the sink across the stove. Since there’s no dining table, the counter raised above the sink has ample eating space and barstools lined underneath the extended counter for eating space. 

Across from there is a small open living room with a window facing the street and another candle on the coffee table, unlit this time. 

“Couch, fake plant, tv, coffee table,” he points to each for a second before moving on, tone so miserable Taehyung genuinely enjoys it. .

He notes the coffee brown couch and the matching wood grain coffee table with a tv remote, some more unlit candles, a pack of cards and an airpod case charging. Across from that is a regular sized TV on top of a stand and a fake fern next to it. 

Under the coffee table are various wicker and cloth baskets with things inside that Taehyung has yet to learn about. The entertainment stand has a Playstation and a few games and movies lined neatly in the storage cabinets. 

There are two hallways on either side of the kitchen. Jeongguk points to the left one where a closed room lies at the end. “My bedroom.” There’s another door closer to the kitchen but on the adjacent wall of the left hallway. “In-unit washer and dryer. Your room will be on the right side of the kitchen.” 

So we’ll be divided? Meaning Taehyung will live in his own world in his own room without even thinking about Jeongguk? Not that he gives a shit, but how was this even considered  for him and Jae, a couple supposedly living together? 

Jeongguk points to the right hallway where there’s a room at the end of the hall and another one on the wall. He gestures for Taehyung to walk behind him. Begrudgingly, he does so. 

“You know, the lack of decoration in here is giving you serious serial killer vibes.” The pale white is making him sick. “Couldn’t you have hung up a poster or a polaroid of your friends? It’s like you have no personality.” Taehyung points a finger to the bare drywall, dragging it along the prickly walls. He wonders what happened to the old Jeongguk who used to get a new obsession every week, from different girl groups to a new anime.

“I’ll buy some later.” Jeongguk waves off, shoveling more soggy cereal to his lips. “And here is your room.”  

The doorknob untwists and Jeongguk moves out of the way, pressing his back to the adjacent wall so he can eat in peace. 

Taehyung steps in. It's a college apartment so it comes furnished with a bed and a mattress, a nightstand, a chair and a desk. There’s an en suite bathroom and a walk-in closet that are decent in size. His walls are the same eggshell white with an AC vent and overhead lights hanging in a set of four. This is the only room devoid of that smell from the candles and Taehyung takes a deep breath in to clear his mind. 

He tries to visualize it. His sage green sheets and cream pillows. Posters and art pieces hung on the wall, pictures of his friends littered across. He could get a calendar and tape it above his desk and by organizers for his school stuff and keep his tennis gear in a corner. Maybe buy a space heater in the winter so his room can become the ultimate cabin when it’s snowing outside.

This will work. Sure, it’s nothing compared to the size of his room at Josun Palace but he doesn’t need much. 

At the very least, it’s a home. It’s something he can come back to, a constant. Not a lifeless hotel room nor will it require a heavy drive through Seoul traffic. It’s his own little spot for him at school, a place where he can be himself unapologetically. 

He turns around to find Jeongguk now leaning against the frame, chugging the last of his milk so the veins in his neck and Adam’s apple move. His neck bends back and he swallows the last of his breakfast with spots of creamy white on his lips before wiping it off with the back of his hand. Quirking a brow, he waits for Taehyung’s opinion on the place. Taehyung’s heart weirdly speeds up for a moment.

“I like it,” he nods. Jeongguk’s hand dangles by his thigh and Taehyung can see a silver Rolex around his wrist. 

“Perfect. Let’s go to the housing office then.” Jeongguk nods to the kitchen and turns around before Taehyung even takes his first step, giving him a few of his back and the back of his head. Curls swishing with his movement, shining in the streams of light coming in all directions. 

He gets this inexplicable urge to run his fingers through it but Taehyung pushes it down the moment it pops up.

On the way out there’s another unmentioned closet in the hallway just before the main kitchen/living room area that Taehyung pulls open curiously which Jeongguk doesn’t notice. Part of him was expecting something crazy like for it to be his sex dungeon or weapon storage for when the apocalypse finally happens.  All he finds is a vacuum, a broom and a Swiffer along with some cleaning products and refill packs.

Boring. He closes it with a disappointed pout  but it raises a question for Taehyung. 

“By the way, how often does your maid come by?” He stops closer to the younger than before who sits and starts on his bowl of apples. “And what about a personal chef or do you just order in every time?” 

Since Paradise has a higher rent compared to dorms or commuting from home, Taehyung assumed Jeongguk would be living life similar to his life in Gangnam: with all of his amenities provided for him. That’s how they grew up after all. Never having to lift a finger without someone rushing to help. Most of the people they know have never scrubbed a dish or vacuumed the floor in their entire life. 

Taehyung swears he sees the side of Jeongguk’s cheek perk up almost fondly at his question.

“Well, you’re looking at my personal maid and chef,” his finger presses to his chest. “Although I hate to break it to you, I only work for Mr. Jeon.” Jeongguk fakes an awkward wince to go along with his bit. “Sorry about that.” 

Taehyung’s fuse begins to shorten at the taunt. “You’re not hiring any helpers?” 

He’s shocked. It’s not like his parents don’t have the money for it. His mother’s makeup company couldn’t be doing better. His dad got tenure at SNU after only three years since leaving a very prestigious law firm. They should be bathing in cash. He should be sneezing into ₩500 bills instead of tissues. 

But Jeongguk just scoffs at him like he’s a stupid little child. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment, I think I can handle taking care of it and myself,” he plops one of the apple slices into his mouth and chews with his mouth closed politely. “You can hire them if you want but they should only worry about you and your shit.”

Does he think Taehyung is not capable of cleaning and cooking for himself? “I can handle this on my own too, you know,” he argues back. Taehyung isn’t an idiot. How hard must this be anyways? He’s an adult and millions of people live alone. Yoongi and Jimin survive.  “I won’t hire one if you aren’t,” he declares, only to prove a point. 

Although his mother would be particularly proud of this statement, Taehyung doesn’t know much about how to take care of an apartment or cook anything other than instant ramen. 

But like he said, the internet is free so he’ll pick it up in no time and not make a fool of himself in front of Jeongguk. 

“Fine with me.” Jeongguk shrugs. A moment of silence lulls the conversation. Jeongguk pops another apple in his mouth and his crunching breaks the silence in the air. Taehyung looks out the window to take his mind off the noise, studying the various people walking along the lined path to the bus stop while bike riders occupy the right lane. Then he looks at that stupid candle briefly before jumping back to the wicker baskets shelved under the coffee table.

One has controllers, remotes, four karaoke mics and extra batteries while the other has lighters, coasters and a pack of disinfecting wipes. 

What are those mics for? Jeongguk hates karaoke. Taehyung used to have to drag him to the booths and force an IU or Red Velvet song on him. Now he does it on his own? 

Who are you and what have you done with my Jeongguk? 

Taehyung almost asks when he turns to look back at him but he stops when their gazes meet. 

There’s apprehension in Jeongguk’s eyes. As if the cold front he’s been displaying ever since the party cracks in the middle just a bit, revealing that familiar pensive look. He watches Taehyung carefully from where he sits, eyes dancing all over his body and face, and it drives him insane as much as it causes all of his muscles to stiffen. 

“Spit it out,” Taehyung scoffs, holding a hand out so he can have a piece of apple too.

Jeongguk places one in his hand softly, wet and cold. “Do you really want to do this? Like, live with me of all people?” 

There was once a time when Taehyung and Jeongguk made plans to buy a vacation home together. Back when his parents first divorced and he was sad, Jeongguk promised to make him happy by buying him a home in the nicest place possible so they could escape there whenever they were sad. Taehyung perked up a little at that. A spot for him and his best friend where nothing else mattered but them. Where they could run away from all of the demands of their current life and just have fun. 

When you’re 8, empty promises like that mean so much. 

And now, here they are. Jeongguk is renting an apartment at their university and Taehyung gets to live here even though he wasn’t the first choice. That happy shiny dream of living together was smashed into smithereens a while ago and now it feels like the perfect opportunity to piece it back together slowly. A second chance. 

Would eight-year-old Taehyung be happy with how things turned out? Would he be happy once he learned what he did to Jeongguk five years later? 

“There’s no backing out now, Jeon.” His voice comes out gruffer than he would like. He needs to push out that guilty feeling building up in his chest. He did it. There’s no going back. “Had I known someone else with an empty room I could take, I would’ve said their name instead of yours but I don’t. This has nothing to do with our past. I don’t care about it so you shouldn’t either, okay?” 

It’s a lie. A big fat fucking lie. 

Not a day goes by where he wishes he could switch back to how they used to be or go back in time to stop himself from ending everything but he doesn’t know how and there’s nothing he can do about it. There were nights when he wondered what Jeongguk was doing, old inside jokes reappearing that make him laugh inexplicably but no one would get, every time he saw matcha cookies and played Mario Kart. Taehyung realized how his childhood was interwoven with Jeongguk’s where every warm memory brought up a pair of curiously wide eyes and a soft laugh. 

But what can he do? There’s no way Jeongguk would actually want him back in his life again, especially now that he’s found better friends. 

And he’s gotten used to life without Jeongguk, filling the empty canyon inside of his heart with other things and people in hopes that they would feel somewhat similar. All of their closeness has melted away, leaving the awkwardness and nothing else. 

The apple in his hand weighs heavy. Taehyung takes a bite and the cold sweetness meets his teeth, juices flooding his mouth. It tastes good but there is the onset of regret flooding his system that spoils it.

Jeongguk’s gaze hardens quickly. That momentary vulnerability that showed for just a few seconds is gone and replaced with his emotionless stare and set eyebrows. Gone, poof, disappeared, and he’s back to being an impenetrable wall. He turns to the side and swallows shakily. 

“Fine, I won’t.” He snatches his bowl closer to him and gets up from the stool. “The housing center opened about 30 minutes ago so there shouldn’t be too much of a line. I just need to grab my stuff first and then we’ll go.” He’s detached when he talks, emotionless and quiet. 

Jeongguk is already walking away before Taehyung can respond. His body retreats back to his room at the end of the hall and when the door shuts, the silence rings in Taehyung’s ear. 

Now it’s just him and the scent of that fucking candle.

He shakes his head and walks over to the trash can to dispose of his plastic cup. Taehyung’s mind runs a mile a minute. Doeun, tennis team, Jimin and Yoongi, Instagram, Jeongguk, school, his followers, his mom and step-dad. How much longer can he juggle everything on his own?  

The facade of perfect It-Boy Kim Taehyung that he’s been building since his first tabloid appearance will shatter the moment he’s weak and everyone comes to know about his fake relationship and about what happened with Doeun. 

Taehyung doesn’t want to wait for that day. Everything he does is all part of a plan. Meticulously, thought out after yesterday. He’s going to fake date Jeongguk, get Doeun off his back, play a great season of tennis, pass his classes and hang out with his friends and family all in one go. He just has to work a bit harder at it. That’s all. 

And more importantly, he has to stop thinking about his past with Jeongguk. It’s dead, over, caputze. 

The trash bin automatically closes shut and he walks away but not before blowing the flickering candle flame that’s been poisoning his mind out. 

⍟⍟⍟

“Okay, your car is really fucking nice.” 

Taehyung practically melts into the buttery black leather seats like he’s becoming one with the damn thing, feeling the warmers do wonders on his frozen skin thanks to the AC being on full blast at the housing office. He’s seen Jeongguk’s car before, in the parking lot or on his driveway, but he has never been in it nor has he ever seen Jeongguk drive it before. 

And both were quite the sight. 

He has color changing LED lights to illuminate the seats and armrests, a touch-screen display and multiple events along with a button gear shift. Then there’s the Spiderman vanilla-scented car freshener hanging on the rearview mirror. Typical Jeongguk.

Jeongguk scoffs. “Didn’t think you’d actually like it. But just to let you know, your opinion means fuck all to me .” He presses the R shift and backs out with one hand. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes and tries to focus on what he’s doing rather than his words.

Oh right, Jeongguk driving. Yes, yeah, well, his hands when he’s driving are truly something else to look at. His knuckles are knobby and wide with his fingers are maybe a centimeter shorter than Taehyung’s. But the tendons and veins that become more prominent at the smallest thing are…nice to stare at. Along with the subtle flex of the muscles in his forearms that ripple whenever the steering wheel is turned. 

But that’s totally normal. Taehyung’s hands and arms do the same thing (sort of) so if his brain could stop thirsting over the bare minimum, that would be great. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Taehyung asks, clearing his throat and pressing more into the interior of his seat.

“I don’t know. Hobi calls it the Douchebag Mobile so,” he shrugs, changing gears and getting out of the housing offices’ parking lot. 

Thankfully, there was no one there so Taehyung signed his lease and got out before anyone could see them and they had to pretend by holding hands or some other form of PDA . His phone had most of his bank information and now he just has to send the check and move in. He texts his mother’s assistant to drop off the stuff today. 

“He was so right for that,” Taehyung bites his lip so he doesn’t let out a smile. “Most fuckboys tend to get these kinds of cars. You’re one perm away from sliding into someone’s DMs, asking for nudes, barely flirting with them and then having godawful selfish sex before completely ghosting them.”

“I’m not a fuckboy,” he presses, sending a small glare his way. 

Jeongguk goes onto the main road. The main parking structure is only two minutes away so they’ll have ample time to walk to their classes with their friends. 

Taehyung snorts. “Relax, you’re in a relationship so no one will suspect you of such treachery.” 

Jeongguk has always been more of the relationship type from Taehyung’s memory. There has yet to be a rumor about him shamelessly flirting with anyone or hooking up with people. Then again, no one batted an eye when he started dating Jae. 

“Whatever.”

The radio plays way too softly in the background so Taehyung can barely hear the cheesy American pop song that’ll take his mind off of everything that blurs his brain completely. 

He opts to look outside instead. There’s a group of first-year girls who walk in clusters, gabbing excitedly about something while one girl lingers in the back all alone. In the bike lane, a boy rides a hoverboard decked out in some downright disrespectfully ugly hypebeast clothing (Hoseok would die on the inside). 

Today is Tuesday and it’s one of Taehyung’s longer days of classes and discussions. Tuesdays and Thursdays tend to be his dead days, especially when games are beginning, but thankfully he doesn’t have much Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He wonders what Jeongguk’s schedule is like so they can go back to the apartment together.  Hopefully they coincide so Taehyung doesn’t have to get a cab back or ask Yoongi to drive him. 

His fingers tap on his knees the entire time, begging for something, literally anything, to be interesting enough for the final minutes of this already short drive until Taehyung bites the bullet and opens his mouth. 

“So,” Taehyung stretches, “how’s your sister?” He decides to ask out of sheer curiosity. 

Jihyo graduated last year and got into a great law school in Seoul. The same one their father went to. Growing up as an only child at first, Taehyung always relied on Jihyo. She was sweet and caring and loving so he was really proud to hear about her success post-grad.  

Jeongguk’s teeth tease the skin of his bottom lip. “Fine.” His tone is clipped. 

“Just fine?”

Taehyung doesn’t get why he’s pushing a stick up his ass. He’s known Jeongguk’s sister almost his entire life. They went to tennis camp together, she led the girl’s tennis team and even recommended Taehyung as captain. 

For fuck sake, she used to put bright red lipstick and horrendous green eyeshadow on both of them whenever they got too loud as punishment. There’s no reason to get all defensive over her. 

“She’s taking the semester off before starting law school. She just came back from Milan last week.” 

He feels some of the icy tension begin to melt at the briefest drop of information, which is good. So he prods further. “Cool, cool. And your parents?” 

Jeongguk inhales sharply, turning his head to glare at Taehyung. “Kim,” he warns and the budding lightness is immediately crushed by the heavy boulder that Jeongguk drops on the conversation. 

“What? Am I not allowed to ask questions?” Taehyung interrupts. His shoulders rise up in defense mode. 

So I can ask about his sister but not his parents? What kind of backwards logic is that?

“I know you don’t actually give a fuck about my family.” He spits out harshly, turning into the parking structure to the security machine. “So don’t force out these stupid questions. I’m not interested in small talk with you.”

The car slowly stops and he presses a button on the side panel to lower his window. Jeongguk’s left hand goes to the center console to pull out a tag for the machine to scan. 

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest, curling into himself some more to block out Jeongguk’s coarse words. Each step he takes feels incorrect, like he’s striking a nerve, so now Taehyung has to play this silly little guessing game to see what topics are okay and what topics will make Jeongguk get all bitchy. 

This is about to be three months of straight-up torture, he thinks to himself. Taehyung leans his head back against the headrest and curiously turns to look at Jeongguk. 

He’s wearing a short sleeve so when he puts weight on his right arm while leaning forward, his muscles strain and flex. Taehyung’s eyes fall on it, watching as the size of his forearm increases, veins mapping out the most beautiful pattern right in front of his eyes and Taehyung is gaping like he was invited front-row to watch Monet paint the water lilies. His mouth goes completely dry. 

Taehyung briefly wonders how those muscles would feel under his hand. If he reached out and pressed down on the veins, what would Jeongguk do? 

But he snaps out of it. They’re fighting. 

And Jeongguk doesn’t like him. 

“You know, I would really like it if you’d stop making assumptions about what I want or care about, please and thank you,” he manages to retort back, shaking the image of his sexy arm out of his head.  

The machine beeps and the clearance bar lifts to let his car through. Jeongguk rolls the window back up so humid air doesn’t get inside before scoffing loudly. 

“So you’re telling me you do care?”

He was just trying to break the awkward ice with some small talk but apparently that word does not exist in Jeongguk’s brain. 

“Well, I–”

Jeongguk cuts in. “You don’t. You don’t even like me and I don’t like you either. So save your words for someone else.” His words cut deep like a sharp knife into Taehyung’s side. 

“God, you are insufferable, you know that? How does anyone have a conversation with you?” His body shifts as the car turns into the structure, first floor, slot number 901. 

“Me? I can talk with the people I like with no problem but with you? If someone could measure my dislike for even breathing the same air as you, it would be in the billions.” 

Taehyung was glad that the car was moving before because he was gifted the luxury of not having Jeongguk’s eyes on him. But when he parks the car and turns to look at him, making his jab hit harder with challenging, low-set eyes, it sparks a lick of flame in his stomach. 

Like an idiot, he presses the button on his belt buckle, freeing his body from the restraint so he can lean closer to the other. 

“Well, mine would be in the trillions.” 

“Mine would be infinite.”  His jawline ticks and dear god, that is one nice fucking jawline. 

Taehyung splutters. “You wouldn’t be able to calculate mine because it’s so big and-and imcountable.” He slips up. 

Jeongguk smirks, clicking his own belt free. “Yeah, imcountable.” He knows he won that one, fucker. The confidence radiates off of him like rays off the sun. 

Taehyung is so terribly floored, not just by the slight decrease in space but also because Jeongguk is fighting back. When they were younger, he would always fall short, lose, and then pout about it for a little before letting it go. Taehyung always won these short little back-and-forth battles but now, he’s holding his own. 

He’s fighting back. He’s gotten older now, no longer the trailing little boy that clung to his Dad’s legs whenever he met new people. Jeongguk has some sureness in his stance and less of an insecure gleam tugging his face down. 

And it’s kind of…. hot. 

Taehyung hates that he’s finding the smallest thing attractive about a guy who just claimed he hates even breathing the same air as him but he can’t help it. There’s growth and it’s led to making that shy boy into a man. A very sexy, intimidating man that can keep up with his petty bullshit.

He opens his mouth to taunt further, see if Jeongguk can meet his friendly fire with some of his own, but then there’s a rough tap on Jeongguk’s window and both him and Taehyung jump at the sound. 

The window reveals none other than Seokjin with a teasing glint in his usually soft eyes. 

“Are you going to get out or do I need to give you two lovebirds some private time?” 

Taehyung stares back at him like a deer in headlights. He swears his heart has leaped up to his damn esophagus, pounding like anything despite literally nothing happening. It’s as if all coherent, logical thought has completely evaporated from his mind and he’s being controlled by some exterior thirsty force that thinks everything a man he supposedly despises does is sexy. 

It’s probably just touch starvation. Let’s go with that. 

His fingers scramble to press the unlock button on his door, hauling his bag up and getting out of that vanilla-scented hellscape before Jeongguk can say anything else. Taehyung is welcomed by fresh air and the sight of their four other friends standing around Jeongguk’s parked car with giddy little smiles on their faces. 

“Morning, Romeo,” Jimin teases. “You and Juliet have a rough start?” The others giggle and Taehyung shoves his hands into his pockets so he doesn’t thwack the blonde on the forehead. 

“Don’t even start with me, Park,” he warns, tugging his bag onto his shoulder and forcing himself not to look when he hears Jeongguk get out of the car and lock it, standing next to Seokjin rather than him. 

Jimin just giggles. “You two will be in the honeymoon phase before you know it.” 

Yeah, when pigs fly. Jeongguk would rather drink battery acid than be near him so the honeymoon, lovey-dovey, actually happy stage seems impossible. Not that he wants it either.

Somehow, they’ll have to pretend with other people around. Taehyung doesn’t know if Jeongguk is going to snap at simple small talk but it’s not like either of them has a choice right now. 

He just rolls his eyes. “Let’s just go.” Other people are parking their cars here so they should move and put on a show before anyone notices the lack of chemistry between the newest It-Couple. 

Briefly, he glances at Hoseok and Seokjin who were crowding around Jeongguk, ruffling his hair and giving him hugs and pinching his cheeks. Taehyung watches bitterly as he smiles at them. 

Like a real, genuine, cute smile. Something that Taehyung has not gotten once from him in years. 

Seokjin says something to make them laugh and Hoseok giggles so hard he trips into Jeongguk, who holds him up with a grip on his forearms. His nose scrunches and his eyes narrow while the brightness of his smile takes up his face like a beam of light. The older slaps Jeongguk’s shoulder, stumbling just a bit but mainly watching Hoseok’s face change animatedly as he beams and claps with laughter. 

Taehyung’s body goes rigid. His lips purse as the nastiest feeling floods his system. 

Without a second thought, he walks over as Yoongi and Jimin are ushering them to leave. “Jeon,” he calls, watching as Jeongguk’s smile begins to crumble at this voice. It’s like a slap to his face.“It’s time for us to go to class.” 

The pit in Taehyung’s stomach grows deeper as Jeongugk’s expression fades to a look of discontent. He was just giggling and laughing two seconds ago. 

“Ugh, fine.” He waves goodbye to the others as they walk ahead of him, patting his cheeks or squeezing the back of his neck in parting. Taehyung watches silently and then moves to the spot right next to him. 

His shoulder is so close to Jeongguk’s that he can feel the heat radiating off of his body. The smell of his perfume hits Taehyung’s nose along with the lingering smell of sunscreen and hair serum. It’s such a soft and sweet smell that if he were to close his eyes, he could imagine himself in a flower field on a warm spring day. 

“Well, jeez. Don’t get too excited, buddy.” He holds his hand out in front of Jeongguk. His right one, to be exact, and keeps it up in the air while his eyes scan around for other bystanders walking by them.

Judging by the way Yoongi and Jimin are like in public, Taehyung decided in the car that it would look good if they walked to the main quad together, hand in hand, to say goodbye (in front of other people) to get a nice head start on this thing. Nothing too raunchy but nothing too stiff either.

A few seconds go by with Taehyung’s hand floating lonely in the air while Jeongguk seems to be looking everywhere but him. Practically whistling and rocking on the balls of his feet for the next step. 

Taehyung is going to bash his head in. “Hey,” he calls, waving the outstretched hand in front of his face. 

“What?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you. Did you not see my hand?” For effect, he stretches his hand out once more, staring right into Jeongguk’s eyes while his fingers wave in the air all lonely. He just hopes no one is paying close attention to them, or they’ll catch their act in two seconds flat. 

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes for the millionth time but before Taehyung can jab him with another retort, his hand is clasped around Taehyung’s. 

Taehyung tries not to overthink it. Holding hands is straightforward, the tiniest bit of contact, and it’s one of the least demanding things he can do with Jeongguk. Nothing compared to having to kiss him. 

But his fingers, which have always been long and daunting, fit well with Jeongguk. He doesn’t feel like a giant holding someone’s hand. The length actually works because Taehyung’s fingers can fully encompass his wide palm and Jeongguk’s palm is big enough to capture his smaller one. Like a perfect fit, two pieces of a puzzle that you’ve been trying to solve. 

No intertwining fingers, Taehyung isn’t there just yet, but this is fine. For now. 

“Just shoot me now.” He mutters under his breath. Taehyung catches it over the loud thump of his heart. In retaliation, his nails softly dig into the flesh of Jeongguk’s hands, getting a jolt in response as they leave the parking structure. 

“Don't worry. If you keep this shit attitude up then I might just make that dream of yours come true.”

His friends are quite a few paces ahead, already in their respective “couples” and waiting for Taehyung and Jeongguk to appear under the green trees with beams of fresh sunlight peeking through the spaces. It’s a nice day out, not too disgustingly hot to the point where Taehyung feels like he might die. He’d be happier if the guy he was holding hands with wasn’t such a piece of shit. 

“Oh goodie!” Jeongguk cheers sarcastically, putting on a cheerful animated voice. “Holding hands! Wow, I love dating you. I could do this all day.” His free hand cups the side of his cheek, fingers drumming gently while his eyelashes flutter like a smitten anime character. 

Taehyung quirks a brow in response, trying not to smile. “Is that a challenge?”  

Because, if he really wanted to, he could be the prissy bratty princess of Jeongguk’s nightmares.    

He scoffs. “Please, you couldn't handle all of me.” Jeongguk’s hand gets to the door handle before Taehyung and he holds the door open for him. 

Taehyung doesn’t expect it so for the first few seconds, he’s standing in front of the open door with a funny expression on his face as if Jeongguk is gonna cut through and slam the door in his face. 

He shakes his head slightly and walks first so Jeongguk misses the heat building over his cheeks. 

“Handle you? You're throwing a fit over us holding hands.” What does he think is going to happen when they kiss?  

Jeongguk follows him, hands still connected and leaving faster than usual to quip back fast enough. 

“This is nothing. When I get into it, I can be everything you hate. The ultimate romantic. People will get so sick of us that our relationship will be mentioned even after all of this is done and you’re fucking married with kids. I’ll be like the cheesy male lead in a K-drama that makes your fucking teeth hurt.” 

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung challenges him. He’s not dropping this so quickly. If Jeongguk wants to play the cheesy rom-com boy then he can play the other end too. “You think you can date me that well?” 

And then Jeongguk steps just a bit closer, leaning in so his face is right in line with Taehyung, making perfect, strong, powerful eye contact. “You’d be surprised.” 

His voice is just short of a husky whisper. Taehyung can feel the gentle breeze of his breath intertwined with the fall wind. He swears his entire body stiffens at the sight of Jeongguk so close to him, all of his moles, the shape of his nose, his beautiful eyes, the perfect shape of his glistening lips, it turns tantalizing.

Taehyung doesn’t want to back down just yet.  “Okay then, show me. Give me a little taste.”

He has no idea what to expect. Jeongguk is probably speaking out of his ass, trying to get under Taehyung’s skin with comments like this, knowing that he’s never been the type to drop an argument unless he wins it. Not much has changed with him anyways. Taehyung is hard to crack and  hard to get through. Cold and enigmatic, an emotionless hedonist. The complete opposite of Jeongguk. 

Emotions are scary and difficult to comprehend which is why Taehyung has always preferred hooking up over dating. Pure pleasure and nothing else while Jeongguk wanted to live in shoujo manga, wanted all of the romantic bits, the slow bits, the angry bits, and the bits in between. 

It’s what made their friendship so endearing to everyone else. Jeongguk was always so upfront about how he felt while Taehyung held it in, cried alone, and got angry behind closed doors. 

If he was mellow water, Jeongguk was a bright fire. Cold hidden depth and burning passion. 

Two seconds go by without Jeongguk doing anything and he has Taehyung thinking that nothing is going to happen right until he feels it. His jaw goes a little slack, lips parting to let out the smallest inaudible gasp. 

Because Jeongguk decides to let go of his hand and slip it into Taheyung’s back pocket, pulling him onto his side with his grip. 

A line of electricity jolts up Taehyung’s spine thanks to the heat of Jeongguk’s hand inside his pocket. It feels warmer almost, adding to his body temperature and causing a thin line of perspiration to build on his skin.

He freezes up, shoulders going to his ears, pausing in the middle of the path up to campus while trying to register all of this. Taehyung’s mind goes completely blank, void of any other thought besides this. 

And remember those big palms? Yeah, Jeongguk has to squeeze his hand into the tight pocket, curving his hand around the round flesh of Taehyung’s ass just right. Such an almost sensation thanks to the fabric of his stupid pants and his stupid boxers. 

One group of guys look at the four of them, whispering and pointing amongst each other. Taehyung can’t even catch their words or greet them. He can’t even look up from the ground because if he does, he will blush like a smitten schoolgirl and that is so not the vibe he’s trying to go for. He has a reputation to uphold but it’s so easy to forget about right now while Jeongguk palms his cheeks.

“Is this,” Jeongguk starts, the previous fire in his tone dimmed down to a slightly concerned one, “Is this okay with you?” His eyes are trained on Taehyung’s facial expression and judging by the lack of words coming from his mouth, he’s probably reading this the wrong way, which is totally understandable. 

Because Taehyung is at the crossroads of wanting to push Jeongguk away and wanting him to squeeze his ass once at the same time, just to see how it feels. 

Look, he’s had guys do way worse than stick their hands in his back pocket but this, this feels like something brand new. The simplicity and the nonchalant territorialism exuding off the action. Jeongguk’s hand molded along the cleft of his butt so if some creep wants to gawk at him, they’ll see his hand before anything else.

It’s so fucking hot. Taehyung feels wanted and in the best way possible. 

He clears his throat. “Yeah it’s,” he does it again, “it’s fine with me.” He hopes his face isn’t bright red. “Is this an excuse just to feel my ass? Because I get it, Jeon. Lots of guys would kill to be in your place.” Judging by the way they stare, it should be apparent. 

Jeongguk scoffs, shoulders shaking for less than a second. “It isn’t,” he answers honestly and to Taehyung, that’s a sign that the game is over. He has nothing left to say anyways. 

So he drops it and lets silence lull over them from the crosswalk up the path to the main quad. 

Taehyung continues to walk and his eyes make sure to veer clear of Jeongguk’s gaze. With every step he takes, he feels Jeongguk’s palm, his fingers, and the press of his arm against his lower back. His nose is flooded with the scent of him, that cottony floral mixed with a hint of that candle he always burns.

The tree-lined path allows for the streams of sunlight to light up patches of his skin, his hair and his clothes so the burning heat becomes less intense and Taehyung can focus back on being his normal self again. 

He waves and smiles brightly, leaning into Jeongguk’s touch like he wants to and not because he should.

“I love your shirt, Taehyung!” 

“Taehyung! Will I see you at Seojoon’s end of the first week party?”

“The rugby team is throwing a rager this weekend. You should come.” 

Taehyung tries to respond as per usual. Thanking them for the endless compliments and the textbook “Maybe,” or “I’m not sure yet”, to get people to lay off. Most of the time they ask questions about parties he knows he will already be going to or events he’s received the invite for so these people will find out then. There’s no need to jump the gun by letting them know in advance. Besides, he loves the element of surprise his sudden appearance brings.

His cheeks hurt from the fake grin he puts on. People flock to him more now that Jeongguk is stuck to his side, eyeing the pair like one of them is going to transform into a wolf and eat them if they do something wrong. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of this?” Jeongguk asks as the main quad gets closer and closer. 

Taehyung breaks his pact of not looking at him now that he’s somewhat gotten used to Jeongguk’s touch. His head turns, meeting the younger’s soft gaze and bitten lips, tufts of hair falling in front of his face and brushing his cheeks, and his heartbeat accelerates. 

Wow. “Tired of what?” Fuck, Taehyung’s voice sounds too breathy. 

“You know, tired of people giving a fuck about every small thing that you do, being all up in your business?” 

Taehyung shrugs. “Sometimes.” He’s well aware of how exhausting this lifestyle can be. “But I like the fact that people care.” Taehyung doesn’t say it but the attention makes him feel good. He’s always liked feeling wanted even if it’s for the sake of sex or fluffing egos or giving his fame to others. But he isn’t going to drop the chance to taunt Jeongguk once more. “Why? Too much for you already, Jeon?”

Jeongguk’s eye roll is immediate. They reach the middle of the quad, almost the same exact spot where Taehyung revealed their relationship to everyone. It’s perfect because anyone can see them as they walk by, just waiting for the next thing to gush about.  

It seems Jeongguk decides he wants to take the reins. He stops Taehyung by slipping his hand out of his pocket halfway so only his fingers are inside to spin him around to face him. Taehyung feels his balance slip, feet stumbling while his stomach flips from how fast Jeongguk seems to be moving him, as if he’s a pliant piece of clay. 

He tries to steady himself by placing his hands on Jeongguk’s chest, right where his heart is and feeling the same pounding beat underneath his fingertips. 

Taehyung’s hair wooshes around, probably looking like a poodle-y mess thanks to the wind. But Jeongguk continues to grin at him, genuinely, without his eye contact wavering once. 

“Not at all. I was just curious about your endurance.” 

His touch starved brain breaks free from its holds and decides to completely control Taehyung’s body. He lets his hands slink up and dangle behind Jeongguk’s neck, chest brushing the other’s, faces inches apart. 

From here, Taehyung can see each mole he has on his face, that scar he got when they were play-fighting once, and count each of his eyelashes.

Part of him begs to pull back but a stronger part of him begs him to stay. It’s nice and Jeongguk isn’t pushing him away, he’s playing along, it feels familiar and safe. Taehyung wants to cherish this some more. 

“That’s cute,” Taehyung smirks. “My endurance lasts way longer than you think, baby.”

“Is that so?” His eyes sparkle so much. Each individual star is present, swimming in the silky black pool. 

Taehyung hums. “Some people can’t handle it. That’s how long it lasts.”

The context switches from his public persona completely. He can’t stop it and Jeongguk seems to play along. 

“You’ve clearly been with a couple of pathetic wimps.” Jeongguk chuckles and his dimples faintly appear. Taehyung’s eyes drop to them for the split second they come up and he cannot fathom what in the hell Jae was thinking leaving a man that looks like this. 

Wearing such a simple outfit, all black, hair tousled by the wind and his friends. Taehyung finds him more attractive than anything. 

“Think you can do better?” 

Jeongguk’s fingers reach up and push strands of Taehyung’s hair back. His face gets closer and closer, like he’s about to push their lips together and Taehyung can feel the anticipation in his stomach bubbling up. 

He flutters his eyes shut as the teasing sensation of soft, soap-scented fingers gently brushes his skin.

“I know I can.” 

Show me, his brain pleads. I wanna see. Show me how you’re better. 

Taehyung leans in a bit, just to see if he’ll do it first. Jeongguk might be all talk like he thought. This could all just be part of their fake relationship. Maybe he’s just good at acting. Maybe he’s just stringing Taehyung along as a little joke. 

Or, maybe his body feels that ceremonious pull too. Maybe it’s not just Taehyung. 

His eyes dart to every corner of Jeongguk’s face. From his dangling earrings to the delectable mole underneath his lip. It’s right there in Taehyung’s view, all he has to do is lean in some more and press his lips and boom, they’re kissing. 

 So easy, right? Just lean in and–

He is interrupted by someone from a group of people calling Jeongguk’s name rather loudly and he splits from his horny induced madness. 

He turns away from Taehyung to find the swim team standing on the steps to the science building, giving Jeongguk a funny look or trying hard not to break their faces from how hard they smile. 

“Let’s go lover-boy,” Kim Yugyeom, the team captain, calls. “We have to get good seats in Physics this time.” 

A (cute) panicked look takes over Jeongguk’s expression and he pulls away from Taehyung, leaving him cold and confused. “Shit, I gotta go.” The warmth of his hand leaves Taehyung’s skin, gone is the scent and the feeling of him pressed all close. 

He moves without thinking, tugging Jeongguk back to him with a hand on his forearm. It’s easy since he doesn’t expect it so his body is loose. 

The same expression lies on his face, cutely surprised, and he raises a single eyebrow at Taehyung. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” His skin crawls with all of the people that stare as if they are two animals at a zoo. Jeongguk stares back slightly confused. 

His eyes dart all wide and cute over Taehyung’s face. “What is it?” Gone is the teasing tone, the sexy bravado that fueled their back and forth, and erupted goosebumps all over Taehyung. He’s Jeongguk again, clueless Jeongguk who hates him. “Did I forget my phone?” 

Taehyung’s face dulls. “You’re supposed to kiss me goodbye,” he points out. 

In seconds, his expression completely flips. 

“What! No, I’m not doing that,” he denies it in a panicked manner, shaking his head like Taehyung asked him to clean the bottom of his shoes with his tongue. 

It’s a fucking kiss. 

“Do you want people to believe us or not?” Taehyung looks around once more and people are gawking, waiting, getting late to their classes just to see them. So Jeongguk better speed it the fuck up and fast. 

He swallows shakily. His voice climbs with nerves. “I never said I’d kiss you. You never said I would have to.”

“Stop fucking panicking, people are watching.” He smiles while gritting his teeth, linking their hands to turn this spat into a romantic gesture and standing close to Jeongguk. “What did you think would happen? Boyfriends kiss when they leave each other-”

Jeongguk cuts in. His voice is breathy and low. “I-”

Taehyung doesn’t let him finish. 

“-and if you’re going to be a child about it again then this is really going to be a problem for us-”

“Kim,” Jeongguk tries again. 

“-because people are only going to believe it when they see it, especially people like Jae-”

Jeongguk squeezes his hand to get him to stop, his eyes clenched shut like he’s in pain. “Taehyung,” he exhales. Taehyung finally stops talking. “I can’t kiss you, okay? It’s just… it’s too early for that, for me at least.” His expression is tight and restrained. 

Taehyung’s chin pulls back. His initial reaction is to poke fun at Jeongguk’s painful look. It’s just a kiss. Who cares? Because in his mind, he couldn’t give less of a fuck who he was kissing. People put way too much emphasis on the damn thing. It’s just lips on lips pressed together. Why does it have to be so emotional? No one actually feels anything when they kiss someone, right? 

To him, it’s always been this thing he does during sex. No intimacy or romance behind it. 

But he supposes, if he really thinks about it, that for someone who had spent two years kissing the same person, whom he loved, it would hurt to kiss someone else.

And for someone like Jeongguk who is always so absolute about everything, black and white, yes or no, he can’t see that point of unattachment like Taehyung does over a measly kiss. His heart might still yearn to kiss Jae and he can’t feel the nonchalance that Taehyung does because his heart is still connecting the action to one person. 

Taehyung swallows down the bitterness in his mouth. “Fine,” it’s tight, his teeth pressing together. “Can I kiss you on the cheek, then?” 

A significantly less intimate spot in his opinion and definitely not enough for him or for the thirsty bitchless vultures around them but Taehyung is trying to accommodate here. 

Jeongguk still turns to the side, looking terribly, terribly uncomfortable. His eyebrows furrow in thought like he is piecing together every possible outcome before making his decision but Taehyung doesn’t have time for him to think through every possible outcome before speaking his mind. 

Both of them have places to be and saying goodbye should not be this drawn out, holy fuck. Every second they waste hesitating ruins the perfect act they put on right before this.

He groans quietly. “Jesus, can I hug you then?” Taehyung asks, tone dripping with disbelief. 

“Uh yeah.” 

Taehyung moves quickly, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders and pulling him in. Chests pressing, he can feel Jeongguk’s pounding heart as he wraps his arms around Taehyung’s waist. It’s loose and half-hearted, tapping his lower back either affectionately or to get him to move on but that doesn’t take away from the way it makes Taehyung feel. . 

His scent becomes omnipresent, sticking to Taehyung like a fresh layer of glue. But it isn’t nauseatingly heavy. It’s nice. Familiar, warm, and safe. 

If he could stay, he would. He wants to. In these arms, he could melt. All strong and secure.

Fuck, this isn’t good. Taehyung’s eyes clench shut, his stomach flips and his entire body feels relaxed. He doesn’t want to leave when he should and Jeongguk doesn’t want him to stay when he shouldn’t.

It’s just a hug, Taehyung thinks. How would he react if Jeongguk was okay with kissing? God, he’s a hypocrite. 

And that is what makes Taehyung pull away. One thing echoing in his mind. 

What. The. Fuck. 

⍟⍟⍟

His classes end right on the dot as his fundamentals professor finishes his point on the powers of social media for your career, something Taehyung already knows so he can get away with scrolling through twitter on his laptop and tuning the guy out. Carefully, he gets up from his seat, one of his backpack straps over his shoulder, and slinks out from the back exit. 

Unfortunately, Taehyung doesn’t get to go home like everyone else. He’s got a rat to deal with. 

Grumbling, he takes a back path to a more secluded area where no one could spot him and Doeun together. There’s an older parking structure that some people prefer to use when the main ones get filled up. Especially the people coming in limousines so they won’t get egged. The only problem is that it’s just too far away.

Taehyung feels like he’s walking all the way to Japan just to find this damn parking structure. 

He connects his airpods and listens to some jazz while he walks, holding his head up high, even while he’s walking. People say hi to him the entire walk there and he smiles back. He has to keep up his friendly persona, right? 

Jeongguk is lucky. He gets to walk around campus and just be himself. No one is watching his every move, caring about the tiniest details, scrutinizing anything he wears or does. He’s free. 

What Taehyung would give to have that kind of life.

Don’t get him wrong. He loves being the It-Boy. He likes the clothing sponsors, all of the party invites, the envy and the feeling of being wanted. Taehyung gets to bathe in attention and, in that realm, he’s never dissatisfied. 

It’s everything else that sucks. That makes him wish he was more like Jeongguk.  

Sometimes, Taehyung just needs a breather from it all. He’d like to go out wearing his comfiest clothes, post himself having fun online, and just be a reckless young person without fear for a little longer. His youth is being ostracized every second he gets. Jeongguk gets to fuck up, make mistakes, be human and no one will get mad at him for it. His smallest mistake won’t appear on some gossip blog, posted on the internet for everyone to gawk and laugh at. 

Meanwhile, if Taehyung steps outside this perfect persona he’s created, he’ll never hear the end of it. 

Speaking of Jeongguk, what the fuck was that in the main quad today? Taehyung was acting like a virgin who’s spent their entire life underground and only survived off of canned beans and anime porn. Shuddering and panicking over a damn hug like he hasn’t been fucked uncountable times before. 

It’s embarrassing and honestly, completely out of character for him. He’s the experienced one after all. 

So shouldn’t he be making Jeongguk blush? 

That’s how this goes in movies. The shyer one will get teased and teased while the cooler one will be doing the teasing until they get closer and fix their relationship. 

But Taehyung is simply a fucking mess right now and that cannot continue for the rest of the three months or however long Jeongguk decides to drag out this shitfest. He thinks his heart might need reconstructive surgery if it’s gonna beat at that high of a BPM whenever Jeongguk barely touches him. 

Not just his touch. His scent, his smile, his hair, his clothes, the way he kept up with Taehyung today. It’s fucking getting to him and Taehyung is thinking he’s gone insane from the lack of sex. 

Yes, that must be it. 

He reaches the parking structure where a handful of people leave from, barely glancing at Taehyung. It’s a short, four storeyed building with regular cars on the bottom two and mostly limousines on the top two. All it takes is a simple elevator ride and Taehyung is there. 

Partially, he’s glad that no one pays attention to him here. That way, no one can report his whereabouts and spark rumors. 

The elevator doors part, the robotic voice says the floor number and Taehyung is greeted with a half empty lot. His fingers pluck his airpods out and with a heavy sigh, he walks to the car he unfortunately knows too well. 

Kang Doeun, a 5 '10, AI-generated K-pop idol looking loser that was most likely born in the pits of Satan’s asshole.

Doeun is pretty well off. Not nearly as much as Taehyung or Jeongguk but he’s wealthy enough to make a statement. His dad owns a few news agencies that are pretty well-known and his mom works in tv. So he doesn’t get a limousine or a fancy car but a nice Hyundai Genesis that he boasted about to Taehyung when they first met like it was the Nobel Peace Prize. 

Taehyung walks past one or two bouncing and steam-covered cars. Usually the top floors are reserved for people who are interested in hooking up between classes or doing drugs but considering it’s 3:30 p.m. on a Wednesday, the amount is low which he is grateful for. 

Taehyung taps his knuckles on the blacked out windows three times, exhaling a heavy sigh. 

“Eun, it’s me.” 

A few seconds pass when the door opens just enough and Taehyung climbs inside, making sure he’s as close to the exit as possible when his ass meets the leather upholstery.

And right there is Kang Doeun, smiling at him like they’re best friends or something. 

“Hi there, kitten,” he grins. Taehyung tries not to visibly cringe too hard at the old pet name given to him. 

If you were to ask Taehyung what he thought of the guy two months ago, he’d have nothing but nice things to say. But now that everything has transpired and he got to see what Doeun is really like, Taehyung feels gross looking at him. 

Ugh, Jae must love his sharp eyes and his pouty lips but Taehyung is filled with remorseful memories of cold hotel rooms and cigarettes on the balcony after a hot day instead.

“What is it now?” He sighs, squeezing his kneecaps to rid himself of any residual tension. 

Doeun shakes his head and clicks his tongue in corny disappointment. “So prickly, can’t I just talk to you?” He pouts. 

Taehyung’s short fuse blows once again. He’s not here for fucking games. “Look, I’ve had classes all day today. I’m hungry and tired and I wanna go home,” he presses. Taehyung needs to move his stuff in today and he needs to talk about being couple-y with Jeongguk too. “So just tell me whatever it is you want and then let me go–”

Immediately, fingers squish his cheeks together, limiting his speech and causing him to jump. “Ah, ah, ah, you don’t get to make the orders around here, remember? I’m the one with those pictures of you and I can have my dad print them with a simple text.” His fingers trace the plush shape of Taehyung’s bottom lip. “So play nice. I want to talk for a bit.” 

Momentary fear courses through his body, freezing his veins and muscles till he’s a block of ice. Taehyung will never be left alone if those pictures come out. He’ll constantly be reminded of it, no matter what he does in life. It will affect his family, his future family, his step-brother, his mom and step-dad and him the most. 

“Fine,” he moves his face out of Doeun’s grip. ��Let’s talk.” If that’s all that this is going to be then he has no problem. 

The younger leans back with a satisfied smirk and grips a plastic cup of iced coffee. “You and Jeon, what’s that all about?” His head tilts, tone lilting like he doesn’t think it’s true or that he finds the entire ordeal to be beneath him.

“We’re dating.” Taehyung deadpans. 

Doeun snorts at him the minute it falls from his lips. The mere sound causes a lick of flame to burn in Taehyung’s stomach. 

The kind that makes him see red. 

“You? Dating that loser? That’s fucking rich,” Doeun laughs sardonically to himself as if  he has the right.  

Dismissing Jeongguk like he’s any better is honestly comical. One of them is the unproblematic son of a famous CEO and lawyer while the other is a prissy little bitch hiding behind his dad’s company to blackmail people into doing the things he wants. Take a guess which one is which. 

“And what do you know about Jeongguk?” Taehyung looks down at his nails instead of Doeun to keep his temper in check. 

“Considering the fact that I’m with his ex, I know enough.” The ice crackles in the cup as he swirls before taking a sip. The car reeks of coffee and his shitty cologne and Taehyung hates it.  “Jae talks so much shit about him. Like all the time thanks to your little declaration in the quad on Monday. It’s kinda driving me up the walls.”  

Taehyung’s tries not to make a face. If he could, he could write a dissertation about wha Jae is the most annoying human being on the planet, sent from an alternate dimension where pure evil exists to punish Taehyung for being too cool and pretty. 

Seriously, he’s the absolute worst.  

He leans in close, coffee breath right in Taehyung’s face.  “Apparently, Jeon’s super needy and super insecure and Jae was getting fed up with it but he only had the balls to leave him when he met me.” Doeun’s shoulders raise with confidence, as if that’s something to brag about. 

 He feels weird hearing about this from someone that isn’t Jeongguk. After hearing the details of his painful summer, the last thing he’d like to hear is Jae living it up with his living nightmare.

“Why are you telling me this?” Taehyung’s eyebrows scrunch.

“Thought you should know because, from my memory, clinginess is something you can’t stand.”

Not fully true. Taehyung likes attention, likes affection, and he never minded when Jeongguk used to follow him around whenever he got shy in new settings or when Jeongguk had that relieved expression whenever Taehyung entered a party late because he finally had someone to talk to. He always saw it as sort of cute. 

However, what isn't cute is a hook-up draping all over him for coffee or a date. 

He’s a one-and-done kind of guy. No need for lingering after or eating food or even sharing a post-sex cigarette like an 80s movie. Once both parties have done the deed, Taehyung leaves. And he always hated it whenever they couldn’t take the fucking hint. 

Like Doeun. He just kept on coming back. 

“I don’t mind when it comes to him,” he shrugs.  It doesn’t feel like a lie when he says it.

Viciously soft memories play in his mind like a reel. At first, Jeongguk could barely speak to Taehyung’s parents so he would just mumble under his breath to their maid until his family eventually gained his trust. He would call every year on Taehyung’s birthday to wish him, even if they would see each other the next day for New Years and after every trip, Taehyung would be the first one to hear everything that went down. 

He never once complained about it. Since he was an only child it was nice to have Jeongguk around. Finally there was someone who Taehyung could tell everything to that was his age. Someone that wanted to play pretend and dirty their fancy clothes because they’ll get washed later. Nothing about their friendship felt needy or too clingy on Jeongguk’s end. 

Being with him makes up some of Taehyung’s nicest memories. 

“How did you guys even meet?” Doeun asks, pulling Taehyung out of his nostalgic recap.  “Can’t be the first two months of summer since you were busy with a certain someone.” The smirk on his face makes Taehyung want to yak all over this stupid car. “So this must be pretty new huh?” 

Doeun is trying to catch him on his ass to flip it around and use this for his own benefit. Taehyung has gotten burned by him once

But thankfully, he’s actually thought of their beginning while nodding off during class. 

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. Our moms are friends and we,” he trails off to seem more organic and less rehearsed, “just started talking again in August. He’s really sweet and nice and it just turned into a relationship.” Stripping the details of their first date so Doeun doesn’t get overloaded but also because Taehyung thinks he should be discussing this with Jeongguk. 

The younger raises an eyebrow. “Really?” Taehyung nods. “Why doesn’t anyone know about you two being friends?”

“What, do you want pictures of our mothers at Mommy and Me yoga? We weren’t as close as our moms were until now.” His heart tugs. 

That’s quite literally the opposite of the truth. 

“Alright,” he presses a comically  large vape to his lips, blowing banana-creme clouds right in Taehyung’s face, “how is it then?”

“How is what?” Taehyung sighs. He wants to eat. 

“The sex.”

“Ew! I’m not–”

Doeun interrupts him, blowing more nasty smoke out. “If we’re not gonna fuck then let’s talk about it. Does Jeon fuck you nice and good? Do you fuck him? Is it big?” He questions with great curiosity. God, it is too early for all of this to be thrown in his direction. 

“Why don’t you ask Jae, huh?” Satisfaction is immediate when Doeun’s jaunty smirk falls at the sides.  “Better yet, why don’t you talk to him about how sex with Jeongguk was?”

“He rarely brings it up when I’m around.” The cockiness radiating off of him is really getting to Taehyung. “So Jeon must be pretty bad, then, huh?” 

This is a lie that Taehyung is totally unprepared for but his mind reverts back to the moment Jeongguk’s hand reached into his back pocket, the way he spun Taehyung on his axis, the way his hands looked when he drives and they all form a picture in his head. One of his hands being pinned above his head, of heavy breaths and sizzling eye contact and moans swallowed by wanton lips and he fucking runs with it. 

And before you go giving him a look, it’s better than nothing okay! 

A smirk grows on his face. “Quite the opposite, really.” He adds spice just so Doeun can fully understand how much better off Taehyung is now that he is (not actually) fucking someone else.“Could barely walk last time and that’s how I like it but you wouldn’t know that.”

There’s a reason he only had sex with Doeun 2-3 times. 

He scoffs, setting his vape down to rub his chin in thought before speaking. “Just for that, I’m asking for something in return.” 

“Seriously?” Taehyung shrieks. He is not fucking doing this again. No way. He’s calling the cops and sprinting out of here. “What part of the word relationship do you not get?”

“I’m not talking about sex. I want something else.” Doeun pauses, either for dramatic effect or to be an asshole. “I want an invite to every party that you get invited to.”

“Why?” This is a huge campus, with tons of other parties occurring at the same time. So many cliques and clubs and communities for Doeun to weave his way into. The rich jock community is not one of the welcoming or easy to get into types simply because of the qualifications. 

You either have to know someone or be someone and considering most of these jocks are selective about invites, newcomers are rare. But people always want in. They want all of the glitz and glamor because it feels like something they’d find in a Fitzgerald novel. Overly embellished, shiny, and pretty settings with posh language and expensive dresses when that is far from the truth. 

“You little snobby fucks love hiding it from the rest of us, well guess what? I want in. I only got into the last one because I overheard some idiots blabbing about it to each other but now I want you to send me the addresses or passwords. For me and Jae,” he makes sure to add. 

If Taehyung is not wrong, he might detect a bit of jealousy. He’d tease Doeun about it but he doesn’t want to end up with worse so he drops it for now. “Jae doesn’t like parties.” He would know, the idiot never comes to any team mixers. 

“He likes them with me,” Doeun shrugs. 

Whatever. “Alright, fine.” It’s easy enough. Taehyung doesn’t care who comes to the parties he frequents as long as Doeun keeps his side of the deal. 

He turns his head to the door and places a hand on the handle so his exit is quick and easy. But then, Doeun swipes a thumb over his cheek, completely different to the gentle way Jeongguk brushed hair out of his face this morning. Doeun’s fingers are icy cold from his drink while Jeongguk’s were soft to the touch. 

A wave of discomfort follows the sensation as Taehyung’s body goes into flight or fight mode. 

“See what happens when you listen to me?” He coos, pressing down on his bottom lip to reveal the flesh behind it along with his bottom row of teeth. “Keep this up and those pictures will be gone before you know it.”  

He’s demeaning, demoralizing and terrible to be around. Had the circumstances been different, Taehyung would’ve falcon punched this man into the stratosphere but he can’t. There isn’t much he can do to get Doeun off his back. 

Because if those pictures get out, it could ruin everything he spent his entire life working for. 

⍟⍟⍟

“So,” Jimin asks, “how has it been living with your betrothed?” He’s got that teasing tone and Taehyung is glad the blonde Factimes him while he organizes his closet because he gets to see his lovely reactions. 

“This isn’t fucking Bridgerton,” he mumbles, pulling clothes from a suitcase and trying to preserve the folding so he won’t have to do it again. 

Two days have gone by since Taehyung signed the lease and this Friday marks the end of the 1st week of school. In any other case, he’d be jumping for joy because Fridays mean the weekend which means parties but lately, Taehyung has not been in the mood. 

“That’s boring. I was expecting some late night tension and pining,” he lists with a sultry tone. 

Taehyung snorts. “Far from it.”The last time he saw Jeongguk was when they came back from morning classes and retreated back into their rooms to recharge/nap. They’ve barely spoken to each other besides the car rides to school and those fake sickly-in-love walks to main campus. Taehyung leans close to whisper to his phone, just in case these walls are thin as paper. “He is so difficult to live with.”

“How?” Jimin’s hair is fanned out on the couch he lays down on and he runs his fingers through his locks while the sounds of Yoongi tinkering in the kitchen are audible so Taehyung knows they’re both listening. 

He makes sure to keep his voice down. “First of all, he’s the most nit-pickiest person I have ever met.” 

Jeongguk has pretty detailed rules that he listed  on his first night here. Ones about not leaving any dishes in the sink, otherwise it attracts flies or buying his own laundry stuff because Jeongguk uses specific ones and he knows Taehyung doesn’t give a shit. Fine, okay, Taehyung can follow that. He’ll just order out and buy his own laundry stuff then.  He didn’t think it was that big of a deal. 

And look, Taehyung is not known for being the best at chores. Let’s remember this folks, he’s never had to do them in his entire life. So, sometimes he makes the human error of forgetting to pick up after himself. Not a crime right?

“Last night, I picked up McDonald’s and I asked if he wanted some and he said no because he follows a meal plan,” he mocks Jeongguk’s tenor voice and Jimin giggles. “So while he ate some boring ass chicken salad with sweet potato, I was fucking up this cheeseburger and I was eating in the living room so I could watch Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha.” Taehyung narrates. 

“As one does.”

“Yes, as one does. Well, it was like 9 at that point so I went to bed because I was tired and I had a discussion in the mornings and you wanna know what happened this morning when I woke up?” Jimin nods. “The little shit starts lecturing me about not picking up after myself, acting like I shat on the living floor when it was literally like some wrappers and an empty soda cup.” 

It was the definition of unnecessary. If it bothers Jeongguk so much why couldn’t he have thrown it away? Do a few pieces of garbage really make him that upset? 

Taehyung waits patiently for Jimin to take his side and appease his broken ego when the other just tilts his head like he’s weighing the options. “I mean, he’s not wrong.” He tries to deliver it lighty but it stabs Taehyung in the side nonetheless. 

“Our friendship is over–”

Jimin interrupts with the beginning of a knowing smile. “Hear me out first, shithead.” Taehyung’s arms cross over his chest patiently, motioning for Jimin to continue. “Alright, you can’t just leave trash around in the common area and expect Jeongguk to be okay with it. Wasn’t it spotless when you first looked at the place?” He nods, grumbling. “Right so obviously Jeongguk is a neat guy. Be messy in your own room but out in a shared area, you should accommodate.” 

Whatever, maybe Taehyung was too lazy and he thought that if he pouted enough, Jeongguk would let it slide but his plan didn’t seem to work so no one needs to know about it!

Hastily, Taehyung throws a shirt onto his bed. He’s about ¼ settled in. His bed is made and he’s got his laptop, a few power strips and all of his clothes in suitcases but that’s about it. So he’s spending today trying to organize his closet and then the weekends going shopping for the rest since his mother told her assistant that Taehyung should do it. 

He’s hoping that he can turn shopping into an outing with Jeongguk to get some pictures since Taehyung has not posted the guy once. All they’ve done is follow each other on Instagram but that was days ago. 

“We really need to talk,” he starts, keeping his eyes on the striped polo rugby shirt in his hands, “about this whole fake relationship thing.” 

Jimin shoots him a flirty wink. “Communication. Now that’s sexy. You guys should come up with a contract or something like that. You know, set boundaries.”

“Like what?” 

“You know, like going on a date once a week and posting each other on your Instagram stories each time and on the weekends and figuring out a timeline and shit. You can’t just wing it forever, Tae. People are going to have questions when you don’t post him at all. You broadcast every little happening in your day on social media, you think they won’t be suspicious if you don’t post your boyfriend? ” 

He’s right. Doeun was easy because Jeongguk wasn’t there. Taehyung was on his own and he could just make stuff up on the go without getting called out on it. But when people see them together, they have to sync up. 

And that takes time and love, like what normal couples have. 

So after another 30 minutes of calling Jimin and listening to him rant about Dance Moms, Taehyung says bye and ends the call because he hears Jeongguk in the kitchen. Sounds of pans clattering and water running. He should make a post on his story of them together and then they’ll make an agreement. 

Taehyung takes out his airpods, fixes his hair to perfection and walks out, shoving his hands in his pockets to look all relaxed. He shuts his door behind him and his feet press softly into the cold wood. The air smells of that fucking candle and a little bit like oil when he passes the threshold to see Jeongguk placing a large silver bowl on the drying rack. 

“Jeon,”  Taehyung calls, earning an unintelligible noise in response. “We have to talk.” 

 He looks cozy in loose shorts and a big gray t-shirt with a Nike logo in the corner. His hair is shiny, fluffy but combed. Eyebrows resting naturally, lips in their usual pout. 

Taehyung can feel his eyes on him, studying the way his shirt slips to reveal some of his collarbone and his shorts are baggy around his knees. It’s a hot day and even with AC on, Taehyung is aiming for something breathable, just like Jeongguk is. Streams of sunlight illuminate the open area.

“Why?” He asks, wiping his hands using a white and blue striped dish towel. 

There’s a bit of sauce collected at the corner of his lips and Taehyung’s instinct is to get closer so he can wipe it off but before he can scold himself for even thinking that, Jeongguk’s tongue swipes it off quickly. 

“I think we need to discuss this relationship thing a little more.” Taehyung makes his way to the raised counter facing the sink, leaning an elbow on it. “You know, like how we met and stuff.” 

“Ooh yay, our backstory,” he cheers in a monotone before rounding the kitchen and plopping down on the couch. The air whooshes when he passes by, giving Taehyung a wave of his scent while he follows his moving body. Jeongguk huffs and his hair flies up with it, landing in a messier state than before. 

The conversation has lasted three seconds and he’s already annoyed. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Yeah, anyways, here’s what I’ve come up with.” He sits down on the barstool underneath the counter, facing him. “We’ve been dating for two weeks but we’ve known each other since we were kids because our moms are friends. We talked after a family lunch which turned into a few dates and here we are. Sounds good?”

He was hoping for a thumbs-up, expecting another half-hearted whatever, but instead, Taehyung gets something else. 

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling everyone we used to–” Jeongguk pauses, looking to the ground and licking his bottom lip before speaking up again with a strangely confused and murky look in his eyes, “that we knew each other as kids?” He says quietly, with seemingly less annoyance than before. 

Taehyung just shrugs. He already told Doeun so what’s the point in lying? “It’s the truth and if it helps people believe our story then yeah, fuck it.” If anything, people will find it cute. Everyone loves a friends to lovers trope after all.  “Do you have a problem with that?” He asks.  

The bitter notion that Jeongguk might be embarrassed by their friendship is a treacherous thought floating around Taehyung’s brain. It’s out of character for the Jeongguk that Taehyung remembers but it’s been years so maybe things have changed. 

He earns a glare from the younger. “It was a problem for you, remember? 11th grade? Mr. Moon’s class?” 

Taehyung’s jaw unhinges as his brain pulls a nasty memory from high school. One that he is now regretting. 

He was on top of the world thanks to a boost in followers and his successful model debut in his mother’s show. People were obsessed with him and Taehyung wanted to keep that up until the end of high school. That could only be done by hanging out with the coolest people to make sure his own following never dropped. People whose parents were famous actresses, singers, directors, owners of huge companies. Everything was going just as he planned and Taehyung could not be happier. 

 Lo and behold, on the 1st day of 11th grade, he walks into Chemistry class and sees Jeongguk sitting at a table close to the back. 

Taehyung remembers their eyes meeting awkwardly, how he sat at the table farthest from him and he remembers putting a note in Jeongguk’s locker asking him to pretend like they didn’t know each other. 

He knows why he did it. It was out of fear that Jeongguk would come up to him and ask why they stopped being friends in front of Taehyung’s new group. He didn’t want to take that chance so he slipped that note in and went on with his life.  

Eventually, this new friend group fell apart because it turns out that being friends with people for social media fame isn’t exactly the best way to form meaningful relationships! And he ended up finding Yoongi and Jimin who were high on the social ladder because of their family name but they were also sweet and good friends to him. 

It was such a stupid teenage decision that Taehyung cringes at now but what can he do? Go back in time? 

All he can do is try to fix it now. 

“So you don’t care if people know we used to be friends?” Taehyung asks incredulously. 

Jeongguk just shrugs, playing with the hem of his shirt. “It’s not like it really matters anymore.” 

It doesn’t. Because they aren’t friends anymore. 

Taehyung plays along, getting up from his seat as he speaks. “So you wouldn’t have cared if I told everyone about the Spiderman night light that you took to every sleepover and every trip and how hard you cried when the paint started peeling because you thought he wouldn’t be able to protect you from monsters?” He remembers having to hold him tight because Jeongguk couldn’t sleep for so long but Taehyung didn’t even mind. “Or what about that time your sister wanted to be a makeup artist and she practiced on you every night and turned you into Bibble from that Barbie movie because she said that was her least favorite character and you were annoying her?”

“I wouldn’t prefer it.” And for a second, Taehyung thinks he’s won against Jeongguk. 

But Jeongguk speaks up once more. “Then again, I could let everyone know about how you threw up on your 7th birthday after eating an entire tub of vanilla ice cream and trying to dance along to a 2ne1 song or the time you accidentally knocked a waiter down to grab a pitcher of water because there was a pepper in your food. It’s your choice,” Jeongguk replies, shrugging like it’s nothing. 

It’s no use trying to play this game against each other. They simply know way too much. All of the small details and the important ones. Each and every single embarrassing memory stored in an arsenal for future birthdays and weddings now being dusted in the inner caverns of their brains for this farce.

Taehyung wants to jab some more, pull up even more anecdotes to get Jeongguk blushing but nothing comes to mind, nothing good enough, and he wants to stop relying on their past as a way to hurt him.

It’s high time they move on from that, right? 

“Fine,” he decides. His teeth press together for a moment. “We won’t reveal such personal details but for the sake of our story, let’s say we were acquaintances as kids.” 

“Okay,” Jeongguk agrees surprisingly easily.  

“Great. Now, we have to keep up with this story in real life and on social media. That’s where it really counts.” It’s where most people will see them. “So, once a week we’re going on a date and we will post cute pictures and stories,” Taehyung steamrolls before Jeongguk can open his mouth to protest, “and you and I will go to each other’s games for support.”

Last year, Hoseok was briefly dating this girl and Taehyung recalls constantly seeing her in the stands, wearing his shirt. It drew more attention to their relationship and Hoseok reached 9 million followers after that. 

Of course, their breakup was super messy and public but that’s besides the point. 

“You want to go out each week?” Taehyung nods at him. “Like what? A movie and dinner?”

“No, I want you to buy a private jet and take me to Italy so I can eat vongole pasta and see the Sistine Chapel,” he shakes his head at the stupid question, eyes rolling. “Obviously, movies or dinner are fine. And you’re coming to my first tennis game. I don’t care,” Taehyung adds because Jeongguk never responded to that. 

“Jeez, you’re demanding,” he nearly shudders.  

“Well, that’s how relationships work.” Not that Taehyung would really know but he’s rolling with it. “Come on, don’t tell me you lost all of your knowledge on dating after that phony activist dumped you.” 

To Taehyung’s credit, his comment makes the smallest perk in Jeongguk’s lips only for a second. “I know how dating works but I don’t know how fake dating works. Jae never said I had to take him out every week.” He untucks his legs, spreading them out so he can get up and meet Taehyung’s stance. “Do I have to go to parties?”

Taehyung doesn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. There’s one tonight and we’re going to it.” 

“Ugh, why?” Jeongguk whines. His face screws up in discomfort and that right there is an expression that Taehyung so fondly remembers. Despite his face changing with age, most of his features combine to make the most recognizable expressions. 

“Don’t whine. I like going to parties.” And people are expecting them to be there together. 

“Okay and I don’t,” he says, like it’s common knowledge you could find online.  

Jeon Jeongguk: 20, Virgo, Blood type: A, major introvert. 

Taehyung clicks his tongue in annoyance. “This entire thing happened because we were both at a party,” he points out.  

“Yeah because Hobi forced me to go.” Jeongguk’s voice climbs a little. He steps closer to Taehyung, who is reminded that height and size cannot be used as points of intimidation against him. 

Jeongguk is just as tall as him, just as broad, maybe stronger than him. There’s no point in trying to appear all big and bad because Taehyung can’t compete. The playing fields have been leveled so he opts for something else to get Jeongguk to shut up for once. 

The kitchen, cold and already so large, feels like a small box when Jeongguk decreases the distance. Taehyung wants him to stay back. 

“Great and now so am I.” He retorts. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to.” His arms are crossed over his chest so protectively when he tries to walk back to his room for safety but Taehyung doesn’t allow it. 

“Jeon–”

Jeongguk cuts him off, already in defense mode. “You’ve decided literally everything so far and I’ve been okay with it because I’m trying to play fair but I’m not going to be your little plus one to these coke–infested shithole parties full of people who couldn’t give less of a fuck about me. I don’t care about parties or social status like you do,” he points a singular shaky finger at him.  

Taehyung tries not to twist the accusation in his mind. He likes social gatherings, he likes talking and meeting people, and he’s always been effortless in these kinds of settings by bringing out his charm and looks. 

Sure they can be tiring and sometimes he just wants to be alone, but he still loves it. 

How is that a bad thing? How does that make him a bad person? 

“People need to see us being in a relationship in order to think we’re together.” He tries to spell it out slowly for him. 

“Oh please,” Jeongguk scoffs. “Jimin doesn’t force his boyfriend to go anywhere and everyone is fine with them. People can believe what they want from what we give them, we don’t have to go the extra mile just to prove it. It would seem like we’re trying too hard anyways.” 

Nice move, bringing up Jimin and Yoongi but the stark difference between them is that their relationship is real. It doesn’t matter if people aren’t around to see them being all couple-y because their relationship is for them and only them. 

Taehyung and Jeongguk have something to prove here. 

“People should be jealous of us.” Jae should be jealous, he wants to say. He should regret hurting you.  

Jeongguk should be happy. Taehyung came up with this plan to get back at Jae. Doesn’t he know how satisfying would it be to turn into this sociable ideal boyfriend with the person his ex hates the most? 

Jeongguk’s arms drop, slapping his thighs. His eyes sparkle with something that Taehyung cannot fully process. “Why do you care so much about what people think?” He shoots back, clearly tired of fending for himself. “Is external validation that important where you feel like you have to whore yourself out at every social event possible?” 

Taehyung pulls back a little. Each word combined to strike right at a deep rooted insecurity of his until he’s overcome with hurt. He feels himself become a little smaller, turning away from Jeongguk’s sharp gaze. The hard marble of the countertop presses against his back, grounding him, as whatever he was going to say next leaves his mind. 

Whore.  

He’s long decided that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be liked. He’s someone who has been in the public eye for years now and he knows that there were people that were never going to like him but he learned that people could be swayed easily. Basking in likes, follows, cameras, magazine covers, horny men and attention is a good feeling. Reading comments about his good qualities, articles about his features, having men clamber to have a chance to spend one night with him, he loves it. It reminds him of all of his good, enviable, marketable qualities. 

That’s not whoring himself out. That’s just being a normal person. 

And he is sick and tired of other people weaponizing it. Just because they are bitter and lonely and sad. 

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Taehyung spits out. His tone has lost all of its strength, leaving a vituperative, sad, deep one. “Just because I like going to parties doesn’t mean I’m whoring myself out for people.” His head turns away again. He does not want to give Jeongguk the pleasure of seeing his face. “Parties are fun.”

Whore. It’s been a while since someone has called him that. Most of the time it doesn’t bother him, especially because it’s coming from some loser he just had sex with who was mad they won’t get another chance. 

But from Jeongguk? Yeah, it fucking stings. 

A few seconds go by with Jeongguk going quiet. Taehyung hopes he’s forming the perfect words for an apology so that they can move on from this and go to this stupid party where everyone is expecting him. 

Fuck, he doesn’t even want to go anymore thanks to Jeongguk’s little comment. 

“People can get enough of us on Instagram. I’m not about to make myself uncomfortable for something that isn’t even real,” he mumbles, tucking some hair out of his face. 

Taehyung scoffs.The hurt returns but this time in the form of petty anger. “So you’d do this for Jae, then? For a real relationship?” He doesn’t know why the thought bothers him so much but it does. 

“He’d never make me,” Jeongguk argues back. 

“What would you two do then?” Taehyung doesn’t actually care about the guy but he wants to know what Jeongguk did with him that makes him comfortable. It could just be a matter of getting him used to stuff. Then again, he isn’t much of a party-goer to begin with. 

Jeongguk groans softly. “Like play video games, go to movies, make dinner together, take walks, I don’t know. We did the same shit I did with my friends,” he lists out.   

Taehyung doesn’t think. He knows that these are actually pretty great ideas for their fake dates and that going to parties as a couple doesn’t really have to be one of them. But there’s anger rushing in his veins and he doesn’t care to think logically at the moment. His brain runs fully on petty irritation. “Yeah, no wonder you barely have any of those,” he mumbles under his breath. 

Even if it’s the smallest bit, Taehyung wants Jeongguk to feel the pain he just felt after being called a whore. So he hits as below the belt as he can reach, to see if he can get a reaction, if he can hurt too. 

“Excuse me?” He barks. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, trying to play it off. Jeongguk doesn’t let him. 

His shoulders widen and his face changes in a way that Taehyung is not used to. Furrowed brows with something dark brewing in his usually soft eyes. His gaze is almost lazy and demeaning, like he doesn’t even have the time to deal with Taehyung’s bullshit.  

“No, you can say it out loud.” He’s inviting a fight that Taehyung doesn’t really want to participate in. “I don’t have any friends because I do boring shit, right? Cause I don’t go out and get shit-faced at every party I hear about.” Taehyung takes a step back again, turning away from Jeongguk’s heavy eyes. “Well, you didn’t seem so bored of me back then so what’s changed?”

His heart plummets down to his heels. Is it time? Are they finally going to talk about their friendship ending? 

Is Taehyung finally going to explain what happened? 

“Things have changed,” he dismisses it. This isn’t the time to be talking about this. 

Taehyung turns away, specifically to his side to go back to his room, order delivery food and then hide under his covers for the rest of the day. But Jeongguk is hot on his trail, getting closer and closer. Taehyung can hear his steps padding on the floor until he is inches away from him but he doesn’t dare reach for his shoulder to turn him around. 

“What changed?” His voice drops to a strained murmur. “One moment, we’re doing everything together then you’re dodging my calls and lying to me and ignoring me at parties. That can’t happen for no reason.” 

 Taehyung turns his head to the side, just enough to catch Jeongguk’s eyes. “I’m not talking about this right now,” the second attempt at brushing it off. 

“Then when do we talk about it?” Jeongguk’s resolve finally breaks. “How long are we going to put off this conversation?” His eyes flash and change with his emotions, as Taehyung poked and prodded and demanded a reaction from him and he is regretting that decision greatly. “Do you have any idea how much it hurt? You were my best friend, we did everything together and then you just stopped talking to me. I don’t get it. What did I do wrong?”

His voice breaks and it becomes apparent to Taehyung just how much this split hurt him. 

Which is precisely why he can’t tell him why he had to end their friendship. 

He turns around fully to find Jeongguk staring at him with pleading and open eyes, begging for the truth.

“You don’t know what was happening at that time.”

“You never talked to me about it so how could I?” Taehyung watches his hands clench into fists in the pockets of his shorts and he cannot help but wonder if he is shoving his hands there to stop himself from pushing him.  

“Just let it go. We were 13. There was no guarantee that we’d be having sleepovers forever. Things happen, people grow and change. Childhood friendships aren’t supposed to last,” he goes on. 

“Yeah, because you squashed that chance.”  

Taehyung swallows shakily. He can’t talk about this anymore. It’s bringing up all sorts of weird feelings mixed with nauseating guilt and it’s too much right now. He didn’t come out here to tell Jeongguk all of this. He came here to tell him about the party. 

“Just tell me the truth.” Jeongguk’s voice goes back to that soft decibel and it’s getting harder for Taehyung to hold himself together. “You owe me that. If you’re gonna stay here with me, just tell me the truth now and I can finally move on from it and I won’t bring it up anymore..” 

Taehyung doesn’t want to spill it out. What could he say? That Jeongguk did nothing wrong but it was his own fears driving his actions? That the thought of everyone leaving him like his father did still scars him? 

It's so stupid and Taehyung isn’t ready to say it out loud. 

To this day he still doesn’t get that close with people. Jimin and Yoongi know him but not as well as they could. Taehyung has different ways of acting around people and he’s been okay with that for a while now. Only he can protect himself and he’s the only person that really knows him. He doesn’t want to change everything because Jeongguk, the one person who really knew him, has now wormed his way back into his life. 

Friendships end and sometimes, they don’t have to be rekindled. Taehyung and Jeongguk haven’t spoken in years. 

And Taehyung is going to make sure it stays that way, thanks to that conversation he had with Doeun a few days ago. 

“You were just–You were too much, okay! You were too needy.” He exasperates. The lie sits heavy in his mouth and it feels terribly wrong when he says it. Taehyung looks at the wall behind him so it’s less painful to say. “Always hanging around me and following me around like some pathetic little duckling. It was too much for me and I needed space so I cut you off,” lies, that’s not at all what happened, he keeps on lying. The worst version of him comes out and nips this stupid backstory right in the bud. “I wanted to do cooler things. I wanted to go out and actually have fun, not sit in your bedroom and play Legend of Zelda and eat your mom’s cookies all the time.”

Sure, he made new friends and he hung out with them all the time but Taehyung quickly learned those people weren’t Jeongguk. They were fun and more mature than him but they didn’t talk, they weren’t there for him, and they didn’t really care about him. 

Not like Jeongguk did. 

But it didn’t matter. It’s done. He and Jeongguk are done and by the time this three month fake relationship is over, they’ll go back to pretending like the other person doesn’t exist till the end of time. 

Taehyung exhales shakily and focuses his eyes back on Jeongguk. His fingernails dig into his palm at the sight of Jeongguk’s glassy eyes, casted downwards, and how his entire frame which was just standing so proudly, collapses inwards like a wilting flower. 

What have I done? What have I done?

“Thanks for being honest,” he mutters, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. 

The air was just zinging with fiery tension and now it’s completely bare. Even as the sun shines and the sounds of people flutter in from the window, the apartment feels cold and empty and desolate. 

“You asked for it.” Taehyung tries to reason despite the reasonable voice in his head screaming in frustration that he’s just worsening it with every word that drops out of his mouth. 

Jeongguk shakes his hair out his eyes. “I know, I did.” His shoulders rise and then sag with an exhale. He was carrying so much tension just now and it’s all gone and replaced with something else. 

This isn’t what Taehyung wanted. 

“Look if this is going to affect the deal–”

Jeongguk cuts him off. “It won’t. It’s fine. I’m over it.” Quickly, he turns around before Taehyung can say anything else. 

His footsteps pound against the floor and it’s the last thing Taehyung gets to hear before the door slams shut. Then he is accompanied by nothing else but the eerie silence of their apartment along with the fading smell of the candle.

And he immediately regrets everything he just did.

#taekookfanfic #soperatic

[jacepicableme]

Entry #10: Check your privilege.

We argued over a bottle of shampoo.

Silly, I know, but it goes deeper. At least for me, maybe for her, too.

For the record, I didn't want to write this down because this can be more personal than poignant. I'm not sure if I'm lighting a fire to a torchlight or just inadvertently setting the whole town on fire with this entry. Nonetheless, the one-way discussions with my own head didn't really improve anything, so here goes, I guess.

2024 arrived with a bang... and shot us all dead probably. No, seriously. I'm seeing a pattern where everyone seems to lament that the year opened with such a profound impact, similar to getting hit by a baseball bat right in the jaw, or in the crotch, whichever hurts more in a gender-blind situation. But while I think the year hit me hard, I'm a first-hand witness to how it hit my partner, @worthleslie, harder.

We started January hopeful with the prospect of her transitioning to a better career: better hours, better salary. We planned to buy a car, move into a better living space since we can finally afford a condo unit then, start a business, and other money-festing meanderings. But by mid-month, we've been informed that her application may be pushed to March, or probably even as late as April. It was disappointing, but we thought we could still hold out until then. Should be easy, right? Wrong. It had just been the first week of February when we really got kicked to the shins (me) and the groin (Alyssa).

We suddenly received the news that her mom had to be rushed to the hospital after experiencing some complications in her eye. We sorted that out somehow, and barely. And when we thought we could catch some breath, it was the same scenario the following week, only this time the affected part was her mother's only working eye.

The pressure of her mother losing her eyesight already pinned Alyssa down months before, but she thought that there was still time to remedy it or that the blindness will come at a much later date. So she was pretty nonchalant for the most part. This emergency was, ironically for her, an eye-opener. After the realization of her mom losing her eyesight much sooner than later, the realization of mounting hospital and medical bills followed and pile-drove her with a pressure comparable to a military-grade hydraulic press.

All throughout the process, I watched as she scrambled for options desperately while I tried to provide action-plans as if this is one of those strategy-planning sessions at my work.

She dismissed every single idea I brought up, which were either already done, impossible, or last-resort-embarrassing. I don't know what tugged me at the time to think that she wasn't being efficient. Was it my ego getting stepped on and retaliating after she blew off all my suggestions? Was it my sheer disappointment and disbelief that she was not responsible enough to prepare for this way back then despite knowing all along this was bound to happen? Or was it because I'm the one really blind and oblivious to the situation?

I let the thought simmer inside me. I started the bad habit of assessing how come my partner's so bad at handling her finances in a comparative sense without addressing the circumstantial difference. Why can't she be independent like me? I paid all the bills, the groceries, and she even borrows a small amount from time to time, so how come she can't save up? Where is her money going? Why doesn't she have savings?

These thoughts festered inside me and grew like a tumor that if I hadn't caught on sooner, it might have made me resent my partner. Instead of asking myself about her shortcomings as if it reflects her capacity, the questions I should be asking myself should be somewhere along the lines of "why am I thinking like this? Where do I get these ideas? Why am I being an asshole to someone who's already having a really hard time and slaving away at work but still couldn't get a break because the system is shit and unkind to people who aren't born with a silver spoon?"

To give you a brief background, I come from a family that somehow never runs out of money. No, I'm not saying we're rich, but we somehow always have enough to afford emergencies. I was raised on the idea of contingencies and having plans A-Z. And I may barely acknowledge it, but I have a safety net that ensures I wouldn't starve should I fail in my endeavors.

I bring this up because I thought about a random quote I chanced upon one day that emulates the message that your first thoughts aren't your own but rather what you were conditioned to think, and the second thought is actually your humanity speaking to you. So maybe that should explain why I was initially asking insensitive questions to the tune of, had I been born richer, "why are you buying iced coffee instead of investing in real estates?" Ironic, again, since I loathed that boomer mindset when all along I was preaching the middle-class version of the narrative.

It's funny that I got in a health industry line of career because I once wrote an essay about free healthcare. My superior back then told me that I was a close candidate but something about the empathy and understanding for the underprivileged written all over the lines in my essay made them consider despite the fact I was just a dumb 19-year-old against 15 candidates, some of which looked like industry veterans. They said I understood the systemic problem of poverty and the goal of uplifting those from below. So I wonder now how come I've somehow forgotten those core values as soon as I started earning five digits every cut off instead of the usual four.

I stared at the shampoo bottle, again. I thought to myself just a few years ago I would opt to buy only a few sachets since they were cheaper. Now, I could afford a shampoo bottle like it was nothing, but my stingy ass would still accuse my struggling partner of using it all up in a tasteless joke.

What price do you pay to lose sight of what's important? For a staunch advocate of fair opportunities and a person who would literally throw a Molotov in congress to fight for the oppressed, how did I become part of the system?

I think I'll go touch some grass now.

[rourhksapocolypse]

alright, time for a tale.

A few days ago, I noticed the battery light on my dashboard blinking, complete with a Check Engine light on. A quick bit of Google-Fu later, and I'm thinknig it's the top result: A bad Alternator.

this concerned me, but i wasn't going to just go to the store and check the warning code; breaking a habit like "Go straight home" is hard to do. It's a repetitive motion where you stop thinking until after it's done without a reminder - at which point, you can't alter the habit because you've already done it, so it'll wait until tomorrow or necessity.

Add a few more days to a week. Today, I go, get gas for my empty tank, prepare to turn on the car - nothing.

No reaction whatsoever.

Car is dead in the water.

Welp.

So I wait an hour, end up helping an old lady after buying dinner and a set of jumper cables, then the old lady helps me by jumping my car. No Check Engine, full tank, but not sure if problem is gone yet.

So I go to the nearby O'Reilly's, yep, second diagnosis says bad alternator. Could buy one there, but it would have to be shipped to Colo Spgs from Denver, and it'd be $150.

Apprehensive,jpg

In the end, I don't buy the alternator there. So I wander, and with help I get some fuel system cleaner (soot build up can hurt milleage, might as well clean that up) and fresh window wipers, since I'd probably partially trashed the ones I had because I'd only replaced one and used both on ice before my heat was fixed.

Got that squared away, nice since it's the rainy season.

Get on the highway, no check engine light, but confirmed that the battery light flickering at 3 thousand rpms was still there. Almost home, turned in towards home, glance at my pphone and realize/remember: I was supposed to go to NAPA nearby. that was the plan I made with mom.

Tires will wait till tomorrow anyway.

So I turn three times, go towards napa, realize there's an O'Reillys next to NAPA and the new-ish Dairy Queen that's popped up in the last two years (rural Colorado, this is still kinda unexpected, but it's not like we don't have the space out there), so I turn into O'Reillys.

I already know that if it's not in stock like at the Colo Spgs store, they can order it from Denver, whereas NAPA was unknown. So I go in, get the alternator and an extra belt because I don't know what state mine's in and an extra isn't a bad idea anyway, proceed to stare at my alternator.

I am bad at being a Guy, because I don't have tools. How am I going to fix this?

then the other counter guy, Ivan, comes out, we talk, there's a battery / alternator tester box we try, everything checks out, then power cuts as me and mom communicate and confuse each other because I can only juggle three things at a time and there's more than three things happening. Also my phone is being unhelpful, because Phone app isn't working right.

First we think it's the starter, then she asks her friend for help and there's more communication and confusion, Ivan notices my hand job with the wiring on the battery from two years ago as he's cleaning off built up battery acid on the positive end of the battery.

Red wire is just fine. Black wire is loose and missing the tightening nut.

Cue instant problem solving.

In the end, the solution is simple: Tighten Black Wire connection and put on new nut.

When I got home, I remembered episode 1 of House M.D. At the very end, after 30 minutes of troubles, the solution is just 2 pills. Same kind of feeling of simplicity and relief as this one missing nut.

God used his plans of making me confident enough to make decisions for myself to skip out on a semi-irreversible purchase, getting other necessities, a new utility knife to replace my old belt knife (after some happy teasing drama about "that is a shiny knife I want it," "Do you even need a knife?" "No, I have plenty and lost more but it's Shiny, I want it!" did not buy that super shiny and probably sharp ten dollar knife), and a simple fix to a simple problem.

And that's my drama for today. Thanks for listening! :}

#life rambles #life is funny that way sometimes #pieces of my life #thank you God #God moves in mysterious ways #Big panic over little dumb problem #my own fault #but God always has a plan

[metalheadcowboy]

Petition for me to take this grumpy boy home,,,

#Tyler Talks #Tyler wants a kitten 😭 #My parents would kill be BUT- #I already have one car and my mom is dead set on that being enough #but I’m not 😭

[sinner-as-saint]

I saw you and I knew.

Biker!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to. 

Themes: smut, fluff, 

a/n: remember this Bucky? Yeah, me too. 

The moment you stepped into the bar, you felt all eyes on you. 

Not in a bad way, more like in an intrigued way. 

A couple of steps in and you realized why; there was no one but bikers in this club. Large, built, mean looking men. But judging by the sound of laughter and the bouncers scattered around the room, you felt oddly safe in the environment. 

You went up to the counter and ordered yourself a drink. Once you found a seat in the less crowded area of the bar, you settled in next to the large window pane; looking out at the passing cars while sipping on your drink. The sun would set soon so the sky was all pink, and-

You felt a tap on your shoulder. “This seat taken?” A male voice spoke up behind you. 

You placed your bottle down and turned to face him. You were aware that you did stare at him for a while. How could you not? Dark, slightly long hair, worn out leather jacket, and tattoos… a lot of them, peeking through his collar and around his wrists. And a perfect face. He gave you a slight smirk when he noticed that you were checking him out but you soon recovered, your heart racing. 

“No, it’s not.” You gestured to the seat across from you, which he then walked over to. 

You watched him, how he moved so confidently. You kept watching as he placed his own beer down, and took his leather jacket off to reveal a loose, ripped t-shirt underneath, as well as his muscular arms; one of them metal and glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar. He folded the jacket carelessly into a ball and placed it down on the table before taking a seat in front of you, leaning back and placing his muscular, tattooed arm over the seat of the booth. You noticed his pierced ears then. 

It almost felt like a strip show. He had barely said enough to you and you were already feeling a little hot, with him staring at you. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He said, and something about his ease, and the softness of his tone, despite his rather mean and dangerous appearance, chased away the little bit of awkwardness which was forming in between you too. It soon vanished. 

You licked your lips and answered, “It’s my first time here actually.” You gave him a polite smile which he returned, giving you the same look that everyone gave you for the first nanoseconds you walked in - an intrigued look. 

He leaned forward, and gently toyed with your car keys laying on the table top. You got a whiff of his scent. You expected him to smell like cigarettes but he smelt like some fading, strong and expensive cologne. Very manly. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at him slightly, not minding the nickname. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckled, and the sound echoed in your head. He sounded so boyish when he laughed, it warmed your heart for some reasons. Something about him screamed trouble, and recklessness and danger. 

“You drive a Benz which no one here does, you’re drinking a martini while everyone is having cheap beers and you’re dressed like a classy lady in a place filled with leather and chains. So tell me, am I right?” He pointed out, his tone cocky and confident like one would expect. 

You leaned back into your seat as well. “You’re judging me.” You pointed out. Funny, you thought you were somewhat blending in here with your little black dress - but clearly not. 

He laughed again, making you crack a little smile. “Princess, look around. You don’t belong here. So tell me, what’s your story? How did you end up in a place like this?” 

You sighed. “I was just… driving around, and I ran out of fuel not far from here. So I called for my chauffeur and didn’t want to wait by the side of the road until he arrived so I figured I could get a drink while waiting.” 

He looked you dead in the eyes while you talked. Nodding at each bit of information. “I meant your real story, Princess. You drove a long way, why? I see it in your eyes. Something’s bothering you. What is it?” 

He was reading you like you were his favorite book. And you found that quite… interesting because no one was ever able to do that normally. It felt intimate. 

“And why should I tell you?” 

“Because you want to. You need a friend, and I’m not half bad, am I?” Cocky, as expected. 

You chuckled. “You won’t get it.” 

He raised an eyebrow. A warning. “What is it? Your conservative and rich father won’t give you your pocket money in thousands this month?” 

Despite the words, he managed to get yet another laugh out of you. “I earn my own money, thank you.” 

“I’ll believe you. Then what is it? Your snobbish, rich playboy boyfriend is acting up?” 

And yet another chuckle left your lips. “You seem to have issues with people who are well-off.” 

He smirked. “Trust me, I don’t. I just want to figure you out.” 

“Why?” 

“Because your eyes are telling me that you’re sad. And that you’ve been contained for too long. You want to be freed. Am I wrong?” 

Your lips parted at the accuracy of his words. “No, you’re not.” You lowered your eyes to the table, but he was quick to reach out with his metal arm and grab you gently by the chin. He tilted your head just enough so you could look at him. 

“What is it, angel?” He asked softly. 

“I… I don’t want to go home.” You whispered, your voice tired and low. 

“Okay. Parents?” He spoke like he could relate. 

You nodded and he gently let go of your face. “Parents.” You confirmed. “They want me to marry one of their friend’s son because according to them it’ll be good for the both of us. And you know, for each of the families’ businesses.” 

He frowned. “You don’t like him, I assume.” 

You sighed. “I don’t know him. He’s a good man according to my mother, who also hasn’t seen him since we were kids. Apparently I met him once or twice but I was too young back then to remember…” you sighed again, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, picking up your glass and taking yet another sip. “ Whoever he is, I can’t say no.” 

He scoffed. “Yes you can.” 

You chuckled, dryly. “You don’t understand. My dad will make my life a living hell if-,”

“Who cares what he thinks? He married the one he loved, didn’t he? Then why not let you find love on your own as well?” He did make sense. 

You smiled sadly, thinking of your parents and their marriage. “I don’t think so.” 

He stopped midway through picking his beer bottle up. “What?” he asked, then went back to picking it up again, bringing it to his pink lips. 

“My dad. I don’t think he married out of love.” You let out a quiet scoff, “I don’t think my mom did either. They just realized that that would be the best for the both of them, I suppose. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they ever truly loved each other at any point.” You tilted your head while looking out at the passing cars out the window. “Mom always told me that marriage isn’t always about love, it’s about convenience.” 

He let out a shameless chuckle. “I’m sorry, but what a bunch of bullshit! You believe her?” He asked in disbelief. 

“It’s all I’ve ever been told all my life. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice anymore, might as well.” 

He frowned at you, setting his bottle down to give you his full attention. “Come on, Princess. You can’t be serious. You can’t give up on love just because your parents did.” 

That earned him a smile from you. “You sound like you know a lot about love.” You leaned forward, placing your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your fist. “It’s your turn, tell me, who has you under their unescapable love spell?” It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him. Almost felt like you had known him all your life. 

He laughed again, that same boyish look on his face. “Nah, none of that. But I do know what it’s like to be contained, and I also know what it’s like to be finally free, with no worries about family pressure or expectations and let me tell you, Princess, it’s the best feeling in the world.” 

That sounded exquisite. It sounded like… like everything you wanted right there and then. To not bother about what mom and dad might think and live for yourself for however long you wanted to. 

“And what gives you that freedom? Riding down the highway at full speed on your mean bike?” You sassed. 

You watched how his eyes lit up. “You’re right. And that’s exactly what you need, Princess. Come on, let’s go!” 

Before you could process anything, he grabbed your hand and stood up. All you could do was quickly grab your purse and keys and you went along with him. You only realized what you were doing once you stepped outside. 

“Wait! I- I…” You were stumbling over your words. A million thoughts rushing through your head all at once. And the piercing pair of blue eyes staring deep into yours weren’t helping at all. 

He walked up to you. “It’s your life. They can’t tell you how to live it. You have every right to find love on your own, and if you don’t want to marry what’s his face then don’t. Parent or not, they can’t do that to you. Come on, let’s go before some old, broody chauffeur gets here.” 

He tugged on your arm gently, walking towards the many bikes which were parked outside the bar. 

“But, I- I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, to see the guy. I’m… I can’t just disappear. Where are we even going? I just met you and I- I don’t even know your name. Besides, you had alcohol. You can’t-,”

“Apple juice.” He stopped, and turned around to look at you. He repeated, “Apple juice. Don’t tell anyone.” 

You looked at him like he was speaking another language. “What?”

“The bartender is a cool guy, I told him I don’t consume alcohol when I ride so he poured apple juice in beer bottles for me so that I can mingle with the crowd but also get home safe.” He explained. 

You giggled uncontrollably at his answer and he lowered his blushing face. “That was funny, but I don’t believe you at all, I-,” you cut yourself off as you laughed; quite unladylike. 

Without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you into him, and his lips were on yours in less than a second. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Still gentle, but passionately. He held you by the neck with his metal hand and you melted in his embrace. You kissed him back and you heard a little moan escape his lips - sending shivers down your spine and making your heart flutter, and other places throb. He teased you by biting down on your lip, making you gasp as his tongue soothed it right after. He pulled you closer, pressing you against him even more, kissing you deeper if that was possible. 

Your hands found themselves around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair. He chuckled against your lips once he noticed that you were getting a little breathless. “Now tell me. What do I taste like, Princess?” He whispered against your lips, his voice sending shivers throughout your body. 

Your face felt really hot at his question and only then did you realize that he did in fact taste tangy, and sweet. “Apple.” 

He smiled against your lips before kissing you deeply again. “Told you. Now come on, trust me and let’s go. You can go home later tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll drop you wherever you wanna go. But right now, come with me.” 

Fuck it. 

“Yes.” You agreed. He gave you a big smile and tugged you along once again. You spoke up again. “And if you plan on killing me, just make it quick. Please. And don’t do weird things to me after I’m dead. Definitely do not feed me to animals, or humans for that matter. And don’t-”  

He cut you off with another kiss once you reached his bike. “Shh.” He laughed. “I won’t do any of that. Now come on, put these on.” He handed you his jacket from earlier and a helmet. 

You put those on quickly, not giving yourself the chance to overthink and prevent yourself from living a little. Once you climbed onto his bike, you realized that you would be pressed up against his back quite a bit. You didn’t mind it, it just made your heart race a little. His leather jacket felt nice and cool against your skin. 

“Hold on tight, Princess. It won’t be that long of a ride. But it’ll be great, trust me.” 

You nodded, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked with his huge, black helmet on. “Don’t kill us.” 

“I won’t, angel.” 

He kicked the engine to life. It roared so loudly that you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush already. You giggled as he drove off, away from the pub, away from where you had left your car, away from where your chauffeur was supposed to pick you up. Away. 

You felt the wind against your bare legs and parts of your face. Cold, rushing - making you forget. You wrapped your arms tight around his waist and tipped your head a little, looking up at the saturated, pink sky, the stars had started showing faintly and suddenly you realized how much of your life you had missed while chasing the dreams your parents had assigned you to chase. 

Your friends would often talk of reckless nights back in university, but you never got to experience those because you were always busy studying to make sure your parents remained proud of you. 

But you were now. You were on a mean bike with a drop dead gorgeous man, riding down the highway while the sun set in the background. You felt alive. Slowly, you loosened your arms from around his waist, lifting them away from his body. You lifted your arms upwards, feeling your hands tear through the icy winds and you let out a genuine laugh. 

You noticed he slowed down a little when you did so. You let your arms up for some more time before you lowered them and wrapped them around his waist again. You inched closer and pressed your chest to his back, feeling his warmth seep through the many layers of clothing. 

“Thank you.” You whispered close to his ear. You knew he heard you even if he didn’t respond right away. 

“Wanna see the sunset better?” he asked, barely a second later. 

“Yes, please!” 

About ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of what seemed like a motel. You got off the bike once he came to a stop and he did too. He helped you take the helmet off and immediately grabbed your hand and ran towards the motel. 

You followed, giggling like a kid. “Where are we going?” 

“The roof. Come on, quick.” 

He answered and led both of you to what seemed to be some sort of fire escape. You climbed the metal stairs as fast as you could, not more than a few steps behind him until you reached the roof. It was filled with empty cans, cigarette butts and what not but it also gave you a view to die for. 

The sky had turned orangish by now, the sun was halfway down the horizon and you were mesmerized. You couldn’t look away. The sky darkened with each second, and you felt too much at the same time. You wanted to run. And never come back. You wanted bike rides everyday. You wanted to take the time and admire each sunset like this. You wanted to not worry about anything for a while. 

You felt strong arms wrap around you from behind. Then he placed his chin on your shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry, angel.” Only then did you realize that you had a tear slowly falling down your cheek. 

You wiped it away and kept staring at the sky, watched it change colors. Your racing heart calmed down and a certain body heat wrapped around you, comforting you better than any blanket ever could. 

You turned in his arms, facing him once the sky turned a darker shade of blue when the sun had set completely. Another tear escaped your eye. He caught this one before it fell down your cheek. He looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes. It almost made your heart hurt. 

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want any of it.” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his neck, admiring his tattoos through your teary eyes. You couldn’t tell what they were just yet, but they looked incredible on his tan skin. 

“Then don’t.” He answered, easily. “Don’t go home right away. Don’t marry him if you don’t want to. Stay.” He whispered the last bit, his metal arm reaching up to cup your face. “You might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You giggled through the tears. “So this is where you bring all the girls?” You asked, your tone much more playful and teasing. 

He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I don’t. I don’t even live in this town. I have a family thing I need to attend in a day or two, so I was just passing by. I got a room for a couple of nights and boom, now here we are.” 

You nodded slowly. “Here we are.” You whispered back, your eyes flicking down to his lips a couple of times before looking back up into his eyes. 

He gave you a faint smile before leaning in for a kiss again, sighing once his lips touched yours like he had been craving it. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back. He kissed you recklessly, tugging and biting your lip, allowing his hands to slide up and down your side and he tilted your head to the side, stroking deeper into your mouth with his tongue. 

“Let’s go.” He murmured against your lips before kissing them again. 

“Where?” 

“Downstairs.” He kissed along your jaw until his mouth reached your ear. He gave you a kiss and you visibly trembled in his arms. “It’s my turn to see what you taste like.” He whispered, blunt and hot. 

Your face felt really hot, again. And when he pulled away, he had a handsome smirk on his pretty face. You got over the shyness and leaned in to kiss him again, aggressively. He chuckled into your mouth and pulled away before tugging you along as he took the stairs again, leading the two of you downstairs. 

The night was properly dark by the time you got to the front of the motel, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other, stopping multiple times to push one another against the wall and make out like there’s no tomorrow. 

There were not many people in sight. You could hear murmurs of muffled conversations coming from the restaurant which was attached to the motel, and a group of bikers were having a chat and smoking out in the parking lot but that was all. 

He led you to his room, unlocked the door and pulled you inside, both of you giggling and moaning as you kissed like horny teenagers. 

He pulled away again, “Oh and, my name’s Bucky. Remember that when you’re moaning later.” He whispered breathlessly against your lips as he slammed the door shut behind the two of you and wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you closer as though he needed you like he needed air. 

“I’m Y/N. You remember that too.” You moaned into the kiss and shrugged his leather jacket off as quickly as possible, eager to feel his skin on yours. You helped him take his shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. You briefly let your hands roam around his torso, feeling each indent and firm muscle, your heart racing with each inch of skin you explored. 

He unzipped your dress while walking the two of you backwards, and by the time you made it to the queen sized bed you were both left in just your underwear. 

Bucky pushed you down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. He was on top of you not even a second later. You whined when he moved to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. You wrapped your legs around him, moving your hips against him slowly, grinding on him out of desperation and he chuckled against your skin. “Eager, are we?” he whispered and peppered your neck with soft kisses.

You moaned when his hands reached up to wrap around your breasts, fondling and teasing you through the lacy bra. He moaned against your skin as your fingers slid through his hair and tugged at his roots. 

“Bucky…” You dragged his name out, squirming under him as he took his sweet time kissing down your body. 

“Hmm?” He acted oblivious as he took your underwear off and tossed them on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs properly. His handsome, perfect face just inches away from your dripping core. 

You whined. “I want you, please…” 

He chuckled, kissing your inner thighs. “I know, angel. I know.” His warm breath fanned your sensitive skin as he spoke, and he noticed the way the goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He looked up at you for a quick second, scanning your face. 

You held your upper body up on your elbows by now, looking down at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth. He sent you a shameless wink before leaning in and kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He teased your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier. 

A pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “You taste better than I imagined…” Bucky chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. 

He grinned to himself, glad that he was the one bringing you such pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your wet folds, making you whine as he tasted you. His touch was slow, pleasurably agonizing. “Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “But I’m not quite done, so don’t you come yet angel.” He whispered against your wet skin. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you, one drop at a time. But Bucky didn’t let none of it go to waste, he leaned in and latched his mouth onto your core, sucking and licking and teasing you. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit. 

He watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. He had you coming undone all over his mouth in no time. 

“That’s a good girl… cum for me, Princess.” 

You were gasping for air in no time, your body squirming under his. Bucky kissed his way up your body again. He gave you a brief kiss on the lips then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his underwear and grab a condom from the drawer and put it on. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again. 

Bucky’s body settled in between your legs comfortably again, and he leaned in to kiss you on the nose and then down to your lips. You smiled through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his thick and hard cock resting against your thighs. He touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. 

You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around. He stared into your eyes, his face still dangerously close to yours. “You okay, angel?” he asked. His voice strained and deep, gravelly with lust.

“Yes… please, I need you.” You whispered against his mouth. You were burning up under him. 

Bucky pushed his tongue into past your lips while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You immediately lifted your legs up to wrap them around his waist like earlier. You moaned quietly as he pushed into you. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and gave you a couple of seconds to adjust. He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down on the bed, above your head. 

He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to keep quiet. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. “It’s okay, angel. Let me hear you.” He whispered, groaning by the end and let go of your hands to hold your body. 

He gripped your waist and pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed you, bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. 

Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you, and in the daze he was in, he mumbled right in your ear about how good you felt. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine. 

Never in a million years did you ever think that you would find yourself in a motel room, having mind blowing sex with a hottie you met about an hour ago, but here you were. And you loved each moment. Your back arched off the bed as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any loud noises while he fucked you. He was relentless. And you loved it.

“Cum for me, angel. Come all over my cock…” 

Your moans got louder as your walls clenched violently around him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped, trying to calm your racing heart but he wasn’t done with you yet. Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck.  

“More.” He growled against your skin and pushed your face down against the pillows, making your ass stick out for him. He gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed his cock into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up again; your butt cheeks pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you.

You felt him quicken his pace. “Fuck…” he moaned. 

You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you could barely hold back anymore. His other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. 

“Bucky… please,” You moaned, craving more and more of him.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded. You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. 

His soft kisses are the last thing you remember feeling before you snuggled up to his warm body under the sheets and drifted off to sleep without a single care in the world for the first time in a long time. 

--- 

You laid your head on his bare chest, a thin white sheet barely covering either of you properly. The sun was coming up and you could tell that your phone would be blowing up by now if you hadn’t turned it off the night before. You quickly chased those thoughts away, you didn’t want to think about anyone this morning. 

Just Bucky. 

You lifted your head up slowly so as not to disturb him but when you looked up you found him staring down at you with a soft smile on his face. “Hi.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained. 

He chuckled, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Hey angel. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He asked, concern written all over his face for a moment. 

You shook your head. “I’m okay.” You lowered your head again, placing your ear right on top of his heart. You let out a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape your family forever and your father will track you down and you would have to explain yourself, possibly even marry whoever they ask you to but this right now, last night and this morning - you would cherish that forever. 

You lazily ran your fingers up and down Bucky’s tattooed arm wishing for a different reality, while he played with your hair. You gently traced the lines and curves of ink on his skin, some were hard to decipher because they overlapped with the others. Some words you could make out, some you couldn’t. A few of the discreet, smaller tattoos looked like he had done them himself, and their messiness made you giggle. Like the poorly done smiley face on the inside of his wrist, and the fading initials next to them: j.b.b. 

You froze. Hang on… 

“Bucky?” You felt like you would explode with the amount of emotions and thoughts which rushed inside your head. 

“Yes Princess?” You could hear the sleep in his voice. 

“What’s your last name?” You asked, anticipation building inside of you and almost choking you. It couldn’t be… could it? 

“Barnes. Why?” He answered, looking down at you with confusion all over his face meanwhile you looked like you had seen a ghost. 

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Let me guess, your real name is James. And your father has a very close friend and fellow businessman named Y/L/N?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Yes. How did you-,”

You got up and straddled him, pinning him down under you. He didn’t mind the nudity, quite the contrary actually. “Bucky! You’re the guy I’m supposed to marry! You’re James Buchanan Barnes!” You went on to tell him your full name and you watched how the realization hit him just as hard as it hit you. 

“Oh…” His smirk faded for a moment as he processed what you had just said, before it formed again. “Well in that case…” He flipped the two of you around and pinned you down under him just like he had last night. “It’s nice to finally meet you, future wife.” He leaned in for another kiss. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 12) - Not So Sweet Home

Summary: Jensen is fed up with his parents ignoring Y/N all day and when he gets a moment alone, blows up on them like never before. The reader sees how upset Jensen is over what’s happening and does her best to defend him while still trying to salvage a relationship with them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, major family angst, mention of a dead parent

A/N: Eek! If you like angst this part is for you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was late, the kids asleep in the guest bedroom, Jensen’s siblings and their families gone home for the evening aside from his brother. He made some half ass excuse about wanting to hang out with Jensen more but you knew he could sense what you did. Jensen was getting close to popping after a whole day of politeness on his part and his parents ignoring you on theirs.

Jensen was bouncing his knee like crazy as he sipped on his beer around a gas fire pit, suddenly stopping when you shifted in your seat.

“Maybe you ought to cool it with the alcohol tonight,” said his dad. Jensen set his empty bottle down on the grass and breathed deeply through his nose. “Your legs been-”

“Y/N, would you get me another beer please?” asked Jensen. You took the opportunity to get out of there, surprised when the back door opened quickly after you, his brother closing it behind him.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a drink. 

“I know,” he said, glancing out the dark window. “Jensen asked me to make sure you don’t come back out there.”

“He’s gonna go off on them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. You guys can crash at my place if you want. We don’t have a guest room but we have an air mattress we can put in the family room.”

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Then why are we in here talking about this when we should be out there making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets in the morning.”

“You might hear things you can’t unhear,” he said. 

“Right now my concern isn’t if my feelings get hurt. He’s really upset and I need him to be okay.”

“You know that’s why the rest of us like you, don’t you? You care about him, the kids. You’re in love with him.”

“Yes I am,” you said as he nodded.

“You call me if either of you ever need anything,” he said, going back to the door. You nodded and took a deep breath, following him outside and already hearing raised voices.

“She’s half your age, Jensen,” said his mom. “She was your nanny. Sweetie you have to know what’s going on here.”

“You’re getting played,” said his father, catching you walking out with Josh.

“She is not half my age. She’s thirty fucking years old! She’s a goddamn adult and been through more shit then both of you put together! She’s not after fucking money,” snapped Jensen who was already out of his seat.

“You’re engaged to the girl after five months!” said his father. “It took you years to propose the first time around!”

“Because I was a nervous kid that was away working constantly. I didn’t want to make Dee stay if it was gonna make her unhappy. I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore because I feel the same about her as I do Dee and I’m not wasting my time so I can stick to your socially acceptable schedule,” said Jensen. “I love her and she’s gonna be part of this family whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

“You need a prenup,” said his dad.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You’ve known the girl for not even six months!”

“She’s not up to anything!” shouted Jensen.

“Son-”

“Have you ever lost your wife? Have you ever been in the car and almost die yourself while you watch her breathe for the last time? Where she’s hurt and you can’t do a thing to fix it? Have you ever had to tell your children their mother is dead and she’s not coming back? You have no idea, no idea, what that does to you, how much it hurts and how much it hurts when you’re still so fucked up and your parents start making comments behind closed doors about you and you have to pretend you’re better when you’re really not. When you don’t even care about yourself anymore, when you pretend for everyone’s sake so they stop treating you like a child, when you don’t know how to tell your kids it’s okay because it’s not. It’s not. Until you go through that, until you know how bad it hurts, don’t assume a damn thing about her. She’s my best friend and she makes me feel like my old self again. I laugh and smile and have fun and when I get scared or feel guilty or freak out she makes me feel better. I don’t give a fuck how old she is or what her job was. She’s kind and good and she deserves better than you two. Danneel’s parents like her. Jared’s parents like her. Her old foster dad’s family likes her. Our family likes her except for you two. Get your heads out of your asses or you can not even bother letting me know you exist anymore. I’m done with things hurting the women I care about. I couldn’t stop what happened to Dee but I can sure as hell keep Y/N away from the two of you,” said Jensen. He huffed and walked off, Josh running off after him. 

“Well congratulations. You got your hooks in him deep, don’t you,” said his father. You rolled your eyes and his mother scoffed.

“You can take care of someone without treating them like a child you know. He’s an incredibly strong person. If you don’t like me fine. But don’t call him stupid or easily manipulated or imply that it’s wrong to know you love someone after only a certain amount of time. I love your son.”

“You love his money,” said his mom.

“I do just fine on my own,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight. We’ll pick up the kids in the morning.”

“He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine in the morning,” said his dad. You crossed your arms and leaned your head back. “He’ll be fine.”

“You two don’t know a thing about me and you assume I want money because of my age and my former career. Don’t assume your son will be fine and get over it.”

“We’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He’ll get over it after a night’s rest.”

“You may have known him longer and I’m sure in some regards you do know him better but not the ones that matter. If you did, you would have seen how much he would have loved for the two of you to like me. I would have taken some respect and been happy because trust me, I get how this looks to everyone else. I understand you have fears and I’m not mad you have them. I’m mad you assume those are facts when all they are is a story you made up in your head you don’t want to change. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere. The difference between him and me though is that I’ll stay out here all damn night with the two of you until you get it through your heads that I’m not here to fuck him over. I love him. I don’t have family, not really. Things have always been screwed up for me pretty much until I met him and he didn’t have to say it for me to know that he was hoping he could share the two of you with me. Maybe I was hoping for that too. But right now I’ll take some goddamn respect and an apology to your son to start and we can go from there.”

“You’re gonna curse at us and expect an apology?” said his mom. “We know you took him when he was at his low and tricked him into trusting you so you could get exactly what you wanted.”

“You know what I want? What I’ve always wanted and somehow always seems to get ripped away? A family. A stupid fucking family. Being a nanny? That let me feel like part of the family. I could pretend I was like all of those people I worked for. Nice and normal and like people gave a shit. Some kindness and a family is all I’ve ever wanted. You two...you wouldn’t have survived a day in my childhood. In my adulthood with the shitty ex boyfriend and the crappy friends and I picked myself over all of them because my mom told me to stand up for myself. Even when she couldn’t be there and I wanted her to. So I stand up for myself and now I stand up for him and those three kids to anyone and I mean anyone, that hurts them. He’s my family and those kids are my family. I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do but I guarantee the only thing I will do is tell you two where to shove it and to leave him the hell alone.”

“Why would we believe anything you say? At all?” his dad asked. “It’s probably the same sad story you told him to get him on the line. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a million dollar book deal. I’ve worked rent free for a lot of rich people since I was eighteen years old. Do I sound like someone who needs his money?” you said. You put your hands on your hips and shook your head. “What is it? You want me to sign a prenup? I would but he doesn’t want one. He trusts me and for a guy that lost his wife and had to work through falling in love with another person, I respect that. He knows what he wants and he’s not wasting time. This is scary for him. It’s scary for me. But when Dee’s parents gave me open arms and kindness and their blessing, the last people I ever expected to disapprove were you two. If you’re going to stand there and keeping calling me a liar, I’m going to find your sons and I’m going take care of Jensen instead of wasting my time here.”

“We don’t disapprove of him moving on and marrying again,” said his mom as you turned to walk away.

“Could have fooled me,” you said. 

“He’s going too fast and he doesn’t know you either, not well enough to make a decision like that,” said his dad. You turned around and smiled.

“He knows my favorite color. He knows what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. He knows why I have nightmares and he knows how to make me forget them in the first place. I’m sorry we aren’t doing things on your schedule but it’s his life. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, whether that’s me or somebody else. For the record, he knows me just fine. Oh and if this is how you plan on speaking to him again in the morning, I’ll pick up the kids myself.”

“We’re looking out for his best interest,” said his dad.

“No, you think you’re looking at his wallet for him. See money? People think that’s important and it is but best interest? It ain’t that shit,” you said as you started to leave.

“Well what do you assume his best interest is then?” said his mom. 

“Treating him like an adult. He is smart and strong and the most emotionally healthy man I’ve ever met which considering all the fucked up shit he’s been through and felt the past year is really saying something. He’s your child but he’s not a child. He found someone he loves and all he wanted to do was share me with you. This was his worst nightmare and I couldn’t stop it. So if you’re not gonna even try with me, then I’m gonna protect him from you.”

“He doesn’t need protecting from us,” he said.

“You call him stupid and that he can’t take care of himself, that he can be fooled and that the person he thinks is his best friend really only wants him for his money. He knows none of those things are true but it’s what you said to him when you said that about me. For a man who went through what he did, it wasn’t mean. It was cruel. I’m gonna go fix what I can of your relationship with him because despite all that, I know you guys love each other and I’m not letting that get fucked up because you think whatever the hell you think about me.”

You stormed off around the house and found Josh’s truck still there but neither man in sight. You looked around and heard a sniffle, your head going up to the roof. You saw the lattice work on the side and climbed up, peeking your head up to spot the two of them sat on the roof.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jensen wouldn’t look at you, Josh rubbing his back. 

“Careful,” he said as you climbed up and slowly walked over. You took a seat on your bottom, spotting the window behind them. “That was my room. Jensen used to sneak out this way. I was always too nervous of getting caught to try myself. You landed the bad boy of the family.”

“Oh yeah, such a bad boy,” you said. You scooted closer on your butt to him, Jensen resting his head on his knees. “Hey. Before you even think about it don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath but looked up, looking fairly normal aside from a slightly pink nose. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nobody was,” said Josh. “I’ll give you guys a minute. I’ll be in my car when you’re ready.”

“You should go home,” said Jensen. “Staying in a different house won’t change anything.”

“That was kinda fucked up what they said.” Jensen raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I don’t always agree with them. If you guys want to stay, that’s your choice but I’m not going home without telling them what a mistake they’re making.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re my little brother and I like her. Even if I didn’t, they’re being assholes and she doesn’t deserve that. You don’t. Alright?”

Jensen nodded and Josh walked off to the lattice and climbed down while you scooted next to Jensen. 

“You thought your siblings weren’t gonna like me,” you said.

“He’s a good person. He’s never told off our parents before so...I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not.”

“He’s a good big brother,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t love you for your family though. I don’t care if your parents don’t like me. I’ll deal with it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I still like your dad so much better than mine,” you said.

“Yours is a monster to be fair.”

“Yeah, he is. Yours love you and I don’t agree with them but in their minds, they’re protecting you and I don’t have a problem with anyone trying to do that.”

“How are you so fucking kind to them after they basically said you’re with their dumbass son because of money?”

“Like you said, I know monsters. I know toxic and bad. They aren’t it. They raised you and I really, really like you. Good people can be stupid and still be good. In the morning we’ll try again.”

“What if I can’t get them to change their minds?” he said quietly. 

“Jensen,” you said, moving to squat down in front of him. You grabbed his cheeks and he stared at you. “You don’t have to pick anybody over anybody. Maybe I won’t be close with them but that’s okay. It’s so okay. We’ll respect each other or just won’t talk to each other and we’ll figure it out but we don’t have to do it all tonight.”

“I think what bothers me the most is they’ve already made up their minds about you based on your age when they don’t even realize who you are. They don’t see that this is the kind of person you are, kind and supportive and I heard you not taking their bullshit. You’re a stronger person than I am and I wish they could see that the reason I’m not freaking out over this is cause I know you’re my partner and you got my back like I got yours. I’m just having a hard time understanding why they won’t even listen to us.”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes darting to the window when you caught some movement inside. You narrowed them and glanced down, spotting the crack between the windowsill and frame. “I’m a little cool. I’m gonna get my sweatshirt if that’s okay.”

“Careful climbing in,” he said, turning on his bottom and pushing the window up. You kissed his cheek and climbed inside, the room empty as far as you could tell. You stepped out to the hall and into his old room, getting your hoodie, his old hoodie. You pulled it on but went downstairs, catching his parents in the kitchen with Josh.

“Josh may I speak to your parents in private,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m done here. I’ll be over for brunch, okay?” he said. He walked past you and caught your arm. “Call me if you need me back.” You nodded and he kissed your temple before he went out. 

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We went to tell him to get off the roof. We could see him from the backyard up there,” said his mom, putting her back to you as she mixed up something in a mug. “But we heard the three of you talking and then the two of you. We didn’t mean-”

“We are all on the same side. His side. We should get along. It shouldn’t be this difficult and I don’t appreciate private conversations being listened in on. But I hope you understand that you hurt your son. I know you didn’t mean to and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do to him. But you did. So please try to help me fix this. This isn’t easy for me to accept that you don’t like me either but you’re gonna respect me. If we can respect each other, then he’s not going to worry as much at least. Please promise that we can agree to that,” you said. His parents looked at each other and you sighed. “You have to be kidding me. What do you want me to do? Go away? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“That’s not...Jensen called your father a monster up there,” he said. 

“I thought it was a sob story according to you ten minutes ago.”

“You said you don’t have parents. He said your father is alive.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Please enlighten me.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to tell different stories,” he said. 

“You can’t even give me the benefit of the doubt that I love your son. Why the fuck would I tell you things only he knows, things so few people know about. Why would I trust you with the worst parts of my life when you don’t accept the best ones. For your information, my birth mother is dead. My adoptive mother is dead. I wish my son of a bitch father was dead. The only glimmer of a parent I have maybe, maybe was my foster father. That was until last weekend. I met some parents. I met Dee’s. I met Jared’s. I got the same message from all of them. Let us know if you ever need anything. Oh the way he looks at you. You must be pretty special. Anything at all, you give us a call. People that don’t even have an obligation to look in my direction treated me like I was their kid. So maybe he and I both got our hopes up with you two and that was on us. If you want to pick apart what I’ve said and call me a liar…” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Your shut your eyes and breathed deeply, turning around. “I don’t care if you have to pretend to respect me. Just do it for his sake and the kids sakes, alright?”

A tissue appeared over your shoulder and you took it, blowing your nose and stepping away. 

“When did your mother’s pass?” you heard behind you. You threw your head back and took a deep breath.

“When I was born and when I was sixteen,” you said, turning around and swallowing. “Why does that matter?”

“When were you adopted?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“Please.”

“I was eight,” you said.

“So you only had your mother for eight years then,” he said. 

“Yeah. She got sick when I was fourteen. I stayed with her boyfriend until I moved out for my first nanny job at eighteen. It was all very sad and angsty,” you said.

“Who made the first move?” 

“I’m done with this interrogation,” you said. You started to leave but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to know who made the first move, you or Jensen.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off. “We had a fight. I told him I didn’t want him to be my friend anymore, he was just my boss and that was it. We couldn’t hang out at night and stuff anymore.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to hurt me,” you said quietly. “I didn’t fit with his life. I’m not a pretty actress. I’m not smart. I’m the younger nanny and that’s all I was gonna be until I became an older nanny and that was supposed to be my life. I didn’t ask for…”

“For what?” asked his mother, carrying over her mug and setting it down on the end table.

“I didn’t ask for him to love me. But he did and I don’t know why but I trusted him not to hurt me. It’s not fairytales and roses all day every day but I like having a best friend and I never would have submitted those books to a publisher without him encouraging me and I need him to feel better. He can’t catch a break lately and I hate seeing him upset. It makes me sick to my stomach and I really, really need him to be okay so please stop doing this. Just stop. Please. I don’t care if we have to pretend the rest of our lives but please, I can’t keep seeing him take hit after hit anymore and not being able to stop it.”

You weren’t expecting the hug from his father or to bury your face in his chest for a brief moment. His mom guided you to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket around you. She handed you the mug and you saw it was hot chocolate, your eyes darting back and forth between them.

“This isn’t about to be like a lifetime movie where you murder me, right?” you said. 

“No,” said his mom as she sat next to you. “We hurt you quite deeply today, didn’t we.”

You stared at the mug, holding it in your hands. 

“You were looking forward to meeting us,” said his dad as he sat down on your other side.

“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is him.”

“I don’t think he’d be very happy with you laying down for a semblance of normalcy for him,” he said.

“Just spit out whatever the fuck you want,” you said. You gripped the mug and shut your eyes.

“I’d like you to stop swearing please,” he said. “In exchange, maybe we can have a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?” you said dryly.

“At meeting our son’s fiance.” You lifted your head and stared at him, catching a bashful look you saw in Jensen every so often. “We understand, as well as we can, he was hurt after Danneel. We can’t fix those problems like when he would scrape his knees. We knew he was in a vulnerable position and things between the two of you seemed so fast for how in pain he was. We thought of the worst of you before knowing you and that wasn’t right of us. We were trying to protect him. But like you said, we all try to do that. So if you’ll let us, give us a second chance.”

“For him, I will give you both a second chance,” you said. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but this sort of thing isn’t going to go away just like that, for him or for me.”

“Is there anything…” said his mom as you shook your head. “We are sorry for before. Truly.”

“I know. Trust is difficult for me on a normal day. You guys kinda tore through the safety nets I thought I had with you. I need to build them up again is all.”

“That was you that said that, people have safety nets,” she said. You raised and eyebrow and she sighed. “Jensen, months back, he told us his therapist told him that, put things in perspective.”

“I guess couple’s are kinda each other’s therapists,” you said. “Sometimes they just need to vent to each other too.”

“Before you said...has he ever been to one?” asked his dad.

“Last weekend was...intense. I went to one as a child and he talked to him for a little while, helped him put things in perspective,” you said.

“Intense? Did you fight?” she asked.

“He and JJ got stung by a scorpion. It was a little serious. We went out the next night and I made a comment and he took it a different way and he got upset thinking I thought of myself as being less in his eyes than Dee was. I know it’s not true, it’s just different. He’s been having a really great week aside from today.”

You took a sip of the hot chocolate and went back for more, drinking half the mug down. 

“We screwed up,” said his dad with a sigh, sitting back against the couch. 

“Yeah but he’ll forgive you,” you said. “This is really good Mrs. Ackles.”

“Thank you sweetie and call me Donna. I made it for Jensen. He’s always liked it when he was living here and having a bad day.”

“Why do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked his dad as Donna got up.

“Because he’s Jensen. He’s not an angry man. Angry in moments but he doesn’t hold onto anger. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. So I know he’ll forgive you. When I’m not sure of but it won’t be forever.”

“Have you two ever fought badly?” he asked.

“We’ve had a few fights. Mostly small and when we’re both tired or hungry. We had a big one a few weeks ago when he got home but we talked about why it happened and how to make sure it doesn’t again,” you said. Donna carried over a kettle and poured more hot chocolate in your mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don't ask about fights Alan. It’s not our business. We should let them tell us what they want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

“They probably should have had a big fight at least once to know if they can work through those things and it sounds like they have,” he said when he turned to you. “I know you’re probably love struck but marriage? That’s a lifetime of putting in the work.”

“Alan if I didn’t care about putting in the work I wouldn’t be down here right now. I know I don’t know everything I’m signing up for and no one really does but I know him and the kids and that’s worth the parts I have to work at.”

“You sound older than you look.”

“Age doesn’t always equal life experience,” you said.

“I suppose not,” he said. He stood and took a deep breath. “I do apologize for thinking the worst of you and not giving you a fair chance upfront.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m going to bring this up and check on him.”

“Can I ask one last thing?” asked his dad. You nodded and he looked over to Donna who gave him a short nod. “Josh said you really love him.”

“I do.”

“Do you think he loves you the same way?”

“I know he does,” you said.

“How are you so sure?”

“How are you so sure your wife loves you?” you said. “Goodnight Alan.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his mom catching up with you in the foyer where the stairs were. You gave her a tired smile and she nodded.

“If I told you something, would you keep it a secret from Jensen?” she asked.

“No,” you said with a smile. 

“I had to try,” she said. “We’re not like this by nature. Something happened he doesn’t know about when he was recovering that put us off to you. A woman. A young woman at his physical therapy.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly. She took a seat on a step and you sat beside her. “If someone tried to take advantage of him, you should have told me and him. He thinks you guys have gone nuts, no offense.”

“You’ll find with time you’d rather have your child safe and upset at you than the other way around,” she said. 

“What happened?”

“We moved down to the house for a few months to help Jensen. He went to physical therapy. A very good place. A family friend works there and got him in and he regained a lot of strength in his leg quickly because of it. There were nurses that often helped and he worked with a few regularly and they develop a relationship and all that. It’s good for morale and healing we were told. One of these girls was about your age and our family friend overheard her gossiping to a friend on the phone during a lunch break.”

“Gossiping about…” you said. “Jensen?”

“They saw an opportunity to manipulate him. He is smart, smarter than the both of us together, but he was going through the motions that first month. She made him smile a bit. She flirted with him. Our friend told us what she’d said and we realized, he could be hurt again. Taken advantage of for what he has, what he can offer. His sudden shift in mood this year, introducing you as a fiance, made us think we’d failed to protect him this time.”

“Why not tell him that?” you asked.

“And tell him he was being manipulated back then? He’s so adamant that it can’t happen to him but we know different.”

“I think you should tell him, Donna. It makes your reaction today seem not so…” you said, her head shaking.

“Ma,” you both heard. You looked over your shoulders, Jensen sat against the wall at the top of the landing. “Mom. Jerry told me why I got a new nurse when it happened. She was nice, or was pretending to be, I don’t know. But I didn’t like her. I never got manipulated and I was never going to.”

“How long-” you said, Jensen rubbing the back of his neck. “You heard everything.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p, his dad coming over to the bottom of the stairs and staring up. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. Y/N, I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Accept their apology Jensen. You can hash out the rest of this in the morning but accept that they know they were in the wrong,” you said. 

“Why should I?” he asked, cocking his head.

“We both got hurt out of their love for you. They are not monsters and I know the difference,” you said. “You know too.”

“Will you two ever look at me the same again,” said Jensen, staring at the landing. 

“Honey it was a fight. It’ll be alright,” said his mom, his head shaking.

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you two look at me like I’m a kid. Like I’m weak and defenseless. But I’m not. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and this whole day could have been avoided if you treated me like your adult son, not the kid who fell off his bike and cries over a cut. I needed you two to take over, I did, I honestly did after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone the kids. But you haven’t stopped thinking I can take care of me again. I can. I do. I know I’m your kid but let me be an adult again. Trust me. Please.”

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand. He slid down the steps and you stood up and aside, letting him get a hug from his mom and then dad. 

“We’re sorry,” said his dad.

“I know,” said Jensen quietly. “Never do something like that again. Ever.”

“We won’t,” he said. You leaned against the wall and sipped on the hot chocolate, Jensen’s nose twitching.

“That’s my cocoa,” he said, turning his head up at you.

“I just Jerry Springer’ed ya’ll. I get the cocoa. Get your own,” you said. He smiled and you gave it right back, his parents pulling off and bringing him to his feet. 

“Come here,” said his dad as his mom dragged him off towards the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate. You stepped down until you were about his height and took a drink, licking your lips when you finished. “How do you just let that go? You were so angry before.”

“I’ve been to therapy. I have good diffusing skills,” you said. 

“Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” you said with a smile. “You made a mistake because you love him. I’m gonna make mistakes because I love him. So when I screw up, now you owe me one, deal?”

“I know it’s getting late but would you be willing to stay up a while longer, maybe find out that favorite color?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, stepping down.

“Depends on the day,” said Jensen, stepping out with a mug of his own.

“He’s right,” you said. “You okay to stay up a bit?”

He nodded and walked back to the family room, taking your hand. 

“Better?” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. Not all the way but definitely better honey.”

It was warm when you woke up the next morning. You peeled open an eye and caught Jensen laying awake, staring at his ceiling. You kicked off the blankets and he reached an arm out, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you mumbled, eyes shutting again.

“There’s a box covering the vent,” he said, dancing his fingers lazily over your bare arm. “It’s almost noon.”

“Seriously?” you said into his chest, nuzzling against his soft skin.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re out back with the kids,” he said. You nodded and felt him move his fingers all over you, soft and light, absentmindedly tracing patterns every so often.

“Still upset?” you asked, his head nodding. “They’re human. They fuck up.”

“Are you angry?”

“I was. Not anymore. I kinda like ‘em actually.”

“Why would you give them a second chance?” he asked. 

“When I got adopted I didn’t like, instantly love my mom. I was scared of her at first. I don’t know, I get that you can not like someone at first and then love them unconditionally, you know? It’s weird but your opinions can change once you get to know someone.”

“I don’t do a very good job of protecting you from things,” he said, tilting his head, moving a few hairs behind your ear. You looked up at him, his fingers playing in your hair behind you. 

“Honey you went off on your parents last night. I bet you’ve never done that to them. You were trying to protect me and you did. No one has ever protected me the way you do,” you said. “Today is a new day and I’d like to get to know my new family some more.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll follow your lead.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

#supernatural #spn #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

**

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

**

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

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[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon #is this dramatic enough #hope it isn't too messy n_n'