This is Where I Lose You~One-shot (Draco Malfoy)

A/N: Draco Malfoy is one of my fucking favourite characters of all time and I’m trying to figure out why I haven’t written for him before ‘cause seriously I love him so much 

Request: @tayrae515:  Hi love, Could you do one where you and Draco had a thing but you sided with Harry and when he gets picked up and taken to the Malfoy mansion like in deathly hollows part one it’s you who gets mudblood written in your skin instead of Hermonie and Draco puts a stop to it and saves all of you because he loves you? Bad description lol but I hope you get my idea! :) thank you! ♥️♥️

Pairing: Draco x reader

Word Count: 2934

Warnings: TORTURE SCENE, BLOOD, Bellatrix being the awful human being she is, STABBING, CUTTING, SCREAMING, MORE BLOOD, sadness, swearing


Originally posted by hogwartsthings13

Once upon a time, I had been the girlfriend of a one Draco Malfoy. We had been happy. Really happy. Of course, deep down I knew that it wouldn’t last. We were teenagers in the middle of world approaching a war and we were clearly on different sides. We never acknowledged it, but we both knew it. I wasn’t oblivious to Draco’s family history. He was related to people that were known death eaters and his father probably was one. He knew I didn’t share his opinions on muggle born witches and wizards, he knew I was close friends with Harry Potter and a number of other Gryffindors that he didn’t approve of, but we ignored all of it. A voice in the back of my mind told me that the heartbreak would only be worse the longer we stayed together.

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Don’t Do This...

Originally posted by destielonfire

Pairing: Mick Davies x Reader

Word Count: Just under 1500

Warnings: Super angsty, cursing.

Notes: This fic is an idea I had after listening to My Heart Takes Over by The Saturdays (Please listen to it is amazing and makes the fic sadder! ;). It hurt me to write so I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.

Dean dropped the colt onto the map table hard, his aggravation radiating from him. Frowning, you squeezed Mick’s hand instinctively.

“I’m really sorry, mate,” Mick apologised for the hundredth time. “I should have kept my wits about me better.”

Slamming his hands down on the table, Dean glared at Mick murderously. You and Sam shared a look of concern.

“You’re sorry?” Dean repeated, a dangerous edge to his voice. “You got caught by a damn witch’s coven and almost got Y/N killed when she decided she had to be a hero to save her precious Mick. God, dude. How long have you been hunting with us now? When are you gonna get it?”

Your face flushed angrily and you opened your mouth to yell at your brother until you felt Mick’s hand fall from yours. Turning to him, you were shocked to see how upset he was.

“Maybe I’m not cut out for this life.”

“What gave it away?!” Dean asked sarcastically, storming toward the kitchen. You jumped as the fridge door slammed shut with a bang.

Mick sighed in defeat and stalked off toward your shared room. Sam gestured for you go after him as he himself made his way to the kitchen to calm Dean down.

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Title: A Nightmare Come to Fruition
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Genre: Angst. All the angst.
Warnings: None
Request:None this time

Believe it or not, this was inspired by an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Enjoy!


We have a plate of fruit that sits in the middle of our small dining table. It’s a clear, glass plate topped with some of my favorite fruit, some of his favorite fruit, and some just for decoration. I take time to carefully organize it every weekend, because those are the days that Bucky takes us to the farmer’s market to replace the rotted ones. A layer of green apples on the bottom, then a layer of lemons, a layer of plums, and finally one strawberry that sits upside down on the top; the same purchase every time. I made this centerpiece new again every weekend, religiously. But right now I can’t seem to remember why. As I’m standing in front of it, it seems so stupid to take my time making something pretty that no one even pays attention to. I take the bowl of fruit and hurl it at Bucky’s face. He throws his hands up to block the colors flying at him, and I feel just the slightest bit satisfied to see red and purple juice running down his arms and the apples bruised on the floor .

He doesn’t say anything at first. He just sits there, letting the fruit stain his skin. “Okay. I deserve that.”

“You’re damn right you do, and so much more.” I’m speaking low and slow, because I know if I get any louder or faster, I’ll just cry.

“(Y/n), please, just let me-”

“No!” I stop him and close my eyes. This man knows how to work me, knows my weaknesses, and I’m not giving him the opportunity to get out of this one. “You don’t get to try and make me forgive you. This- this thing that you did- is the one thing that I told was completely unforgivable… and you did it anyway.” The last part came out breather and whinier than I intended it to.

He was standing now too, walking around the table to me. “It was a dare! It was supposed to be a simple kiss. It’s not like I meant for it to go anywhere! It’s not like I went out that night looking for someone to sleep with!”

My hands flew up to my face, and I just doubled over at the pang in my chest as he was finally explaining to me what the hell was going through his head the day he shattered my heart. I paced the kitchen, face to the to the tile floor. “Oh my god,” I whispered to myself. “You destroyed me over a dare…”

“Now that’s not fair.”

Oh, hell no. I stood still, straightened myself back up, and just stared at him in complete and total disbelief. “Fair? You wanna talk to me about… fair??” My voice was shaking too much now, exposing the show of strength that I tried to put on. I grabbed the stack of paper on the counter and chucked it at him. Not a single sheet hit him; instead they all scattered in different directions, floating in the space between us and then skirting across the floor. “Is it fair that I just wasted three years of my life on someone, only for them to turn their back on me?” My voice grew steadier and louder as I moved around the kitchen to grab anything within arms reach. He didn’t even put up his hands anymore, letting me attack him with words and and anything I could get my hands on. The can opener went flying at him next. “Is it fair that for those three years I went out of my way to make you happy, because I loved nothing more than seeing you happy, and this is how you thank me??” The tears started to burn in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, blinking them back as I snatched up the spice rack. He didn’t even flinch when I threw it at his chest. The bottles flew out of the metal rings that held them and next thing I knew I was avoiding shards of glass on the floor as I paced. “Is it fair that you ruined our future just to have sex with a girl whose name I bet you can’t even remember??” I stood back and examined the green and red and brown powder that littered Bucky’s hair and the floor of our shared apartment. My chest was heaving, a mixture of the aftermath of my yelling and the tearless sobs I was unsuccessfully trying to hold in. I closed my eyes again, and turned to face the microwave instead of him.

I heard him sniffle because of what I assumed was paprika or cayenne pepper in his nose. I felt his hand come to rest on my shoulder, and for a second I let him stay there, almost leaning into it out of habit. Until I remembered that the man I sought comfort from for all those years was not the same man standing behind me today. I jerked my shoulder away from him and rested my hands on the countertop in front of me. I finally let the tears go and the numbers on the microwave grew blurry.

He sighed and threw his hands up, letting them fall back to his sides. I didn’t even have to see him to know that’s what he did. It’s what he always did when he frustrated that something wasnt going his way: a mission, an argument, even a goddamn recipe. You learn someone’s habits like that after three years. “I don’t know what else to say. I said I was sorry, I promised it was just that one time, and I promised I would never do it again.” He paused for a minute. I don’t know if he was waiting for me to interject, or if he was trying to collect himself, or what, but the whole apartment felt tense and unnaturally quiet. “Whatever you want me to say, I’ll say it. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. Just please, please don’t end this.” He was crying now too. He was speaking through his teeth. He always did that when he didn’t want me to know he was crying.

I wiped the area under my eyes with the dish rag that hung on the oven door handle. I waited for the involuntary sniffles to get far enough apart so I could be strong about what I said next. I turned back to him and almost broke down again when I took in his appearance. His eyes were red and glossy. His bottom lip was slightly swollen from where he had been chewing on it. His cheeks were flushed. His eyelashes were damp and clumped. His jaw was clenching and unclenching. His hair was messy from running his hands through it over and over again. Not the same man, not the same man, not the same man, I reminded myself. I took a deep, shaky breath and made sure to look him dead in the eye as I spoke. “I would say that we should start seeing other people, but it looks like you took the the liberty of doing that yourself.”

His eyes fell slowly and looked like he wanted to just fall to the floor in tears. He walked over to me and grasped my shoulders tightly in his hands, shaking his head back and forth. He took a deep breath before letting it out as a heart-wrenching sob as he crouched down to the floor at my feet.

I kept myself still as stone, not letting myself move at all for fear that my heart would take over and bring me right down to the floor with him.

“Please, please, please,” he mumbled over and over again. “Please, please, please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us.”

“I didn’t do this to us. You did this to us,” I whispered.

He wrapped his arms around my ankles and leaned his head on the spot just below my knees. I could feel warm spots turning cold on my feet as his tears landed on my skin. He began to pepper kisses up and down my shins. I bit my lip and started to shift my legs. “Get off me, Buck.” I cringed a little at the casual use of his nickname. I pushed at his head and tried to step out of his hands. He kept a firm grip where he could and reached out further with every shift of my feet. “Come on James, let go.” I pushed at his shoulders and stumbled out of his arms. “Don’t touch me!” I cried.

He looked at me. Just looked. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. “Oh my god,” he finally said, “you’re serious.” I nodded. He looked at the floor, looked back at me, then back at the floor.

“You hurt me, James. You hurt me. I never thought you would, is the thing. That’s what makes it hurt even more.”

“I love you so much (y/n), you know that. I tell you every day, all the time, you know it.” He was desperate, he was begging.

“Telling me is different than showing me. You did show me you loved me for a long time. But you showed me that you didn’t care anymore the second your eyes landed on another woman.”

“Come on, please, (y/n). I am so in love with you… it hurts. It hurts like hell. And I know you love me too, you tell me all the time, you show me. That’s hard to find, two people that love each other as much as we do.”

“Obviously not as much as I thought.” I walked past his crumpled form on the floor, past the powder and the paper and the fruit and the table. Past the the pictures of us together on the side tables and in the hallway. Past the grocery bags of fruit I had yet to set up. I walked past the door that we walked through together the day we bought the place, and past the door of the room I imagined would house our first kid. I walked past the phone on the dresser that contained the ‘I had fun the other night ;)’ message that ruined everything, and I shut the door to our my room.


***Bonus epilogue:***

We decided it would would be best if he stayed with Steve from now on until we could figure out what we wanted to do with the apartment.

That night I got a call from Bucky. My phone sat there on my nightstand buzzing for what felt like an eternity as I watched his squinted eyes and bright smile stare at me from behind the screen. The ‘missed call’ notification replaced his face, and was followed by a voicemail. I sat still for a second, unsure of whether I wanted to hear his voice right now, of whether I wanted to hear his argument without being able to interrupt.

I figured I would never get any rest with the notification just waiting for me, and I would have to open it eventually. I tapped the screen, punched in my password, and held the phone up to my ear.

“You have one unheard message. First unheard message…

“Well, I didn’t exactly expect you to pick up. This is probably better anyway… Listen… I love you. And I will always love you. This doesn’t change that. It just makes it hard for me because I will never get to show that I love you again. I won’t get to kiss you for no reason, or make your favorite pancakes for breakfast, or brush your hair out of your eyes in the morning… but I’ll always be thinking about it. I will never forgive myself for ruining this. You deserve better than what I gave you… Goodbye.”

“End of message. To delete, press 7. To save, press 3, to…”

I brought the phone away from my ear, my face stoic. The screen lit up again with my movement. I took a minute to think before I heard the robotic woman’s voice again.

“Are you still there? To delete, press 7. To save, press 3, to…”

I swallowed. “Goodbye, Bucky.” I tapped the number 7.

Teach Me To Feel

@musical-crayon requested a ReidxReader in which the reader plays piano, and Spencer is in awe of how fast her fingers move, so a he teaches him a song.

I had been playing the piano so intently and with so much passion that I hadn’t heard the sound of footsteps as they approached me. I’m usually very observant, but not when it comes to piano. When it comes to piano, I lose sight of everything else around me and I can only see the keys. The black and white, the feel of the porcelain under my fingertips, the elegance of the movement, the sound itself of the straining notes that flow together to form something that touches people. Something that pulls at a person’s heart and reaches their emotions in a way that nothing else on the face of the earth does. Piano is my escape. So I didn’t hear Spencer Reid walk up behind me, which is why I jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. I stopped playing and turned to find him staring at my hands as if they were entirely foreign to him.
“Wow,” he breathed.
“What?” I asked, slightly uncomfortable at the feeling of being scrutinized by a man who has an IQ of 187.
“You’re…amazing,” he said.
“I am?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve never seen anyone play piano like that.”
“Like what, exactly?” I inquired. “So fast and precise,” he said. “You never miss a single note and your fingers move so quickly that I can’t even keep up with which keys you’re playing,” he said. “It’s incredible.” I smiled slightly at his description of my piano skills.
“Thank you, Spencer,” I replied quietly. “I could teach you a song, if you wanted me to,” I offered, and couldn’t help but smile as his face lit up.
“Really?” He asked and I nodded, happily moving over to give him some space on the piano bench.
“Have you ever played before?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I have a keyboard at home. It’s mostly just math, actually, because if you calculate the position of-”
I interrupted him mid-sentence, shaking my head.
“No, no, Spencer,” I said gently, causing him to trail off and look at me questioningly. “It’s not math,” I told him, reaching over to place my hands on the keys and playing a simple set of scales.
“It’s art,” I explained. “And art requires something that math oftentimes lacks. When you play piano, you can’t let it be about calculations and figures, or even posture and poise. Those things have to come secondary to the most important part of making music.”
“Which is?” He asked and I smiled gently at him.
“Passion,” I whispered. “Music is ardent and emotional. You have to feel the keys under your fingers and let the notes become a part of you. Put that big brain of yours to rest for a bit, Dr.Reid. Learn to let your heart be your guiding force instead.”
“Okay,” he said cautiously, and I laughed at his wary tone.
“Here, watch me,” I said, and I let my fingers linger on the keys for a moment as I closed my eyes and did exactly what I had just advised Spencer to do, and let my heart take over. My fingers began to move, flying across the black and white keys to the sounds of “Eidleweiss” from The Sound of Music. I played the first verse and then smiled at Spencer.
“You try,” I said encouragingly, knowing he would be able to replicate my movements. He placed his fingers where mine had been and began to play. The sound was essentially the same, but I knew he was lacking the element of my music that had given him pause in the first place. So I stood up and came to stop behind him. He stopped playing and craned his neck to look at me.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Put your hands back on the keys,” I instructed. He did, and I brought my hands around to cover his eyes.
“Wait, (Y/N), I can’t see the keys,” he complained, and I laughed, which made him smile, a smile that I could feel under my hands.
“I know,” I said. “You have to feel it, Spence. You smiled when I laughed, and I knew that not because I saw you smile, but because I felt you smile. The key is to focus on the music, not the keyboard. Remember where your hands took you, but remember it with your ears and your fingers and with your heart. Not your eyes, and not your brain. Go on, try again.”
This time, his fingers moved more hesitantly at first, but as the music filled the room, it became louder and more confident, and I could feel the difference. Judging by the away he reacted to the sound, he could feel it too, and he continued to play as I removed my hands from his eyes and stepped away to watch him. The intense concentration was gone from his face, replaced by a peaceful sort of focus. When the song ended, he trailed off beautifully, giving the impression that as the music faded, it was merely an interlude rather than a finale. When he finally moved his fingers off of the keys, he looked at me and smiled.
“Feels different that way, doesn’t it?” I asked, and he nodded.
“You know, I like feeling things with my heart,” he told me. I smiled gently at him and leaned forward.
“Want to feel something else?” I asked. He nodded slowly and I leaned in to press my lips to his. When I pulled back, he was smiling and his eyes were still closed.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Perfect. I’m still feeling,” he replied, and I laughed.
Best piano lesson ever.

I Like It - Cimorelli

We’re in a room full of people but you’re talking to me
And I know you gotta go but you don’t wanna leave
Look at me like I’m the most amazing thing that you’ve ever seen and I like it
Yeah I like it

And I didn’t know running your hands through your hair could look so good
But the way you do it you got me hooked I’ll admit
I’m hoping you don’t see what it does to me
When you say my name randomly
And I can’t compete with my heart beat
You’re taking over me
I surrender

Just breathe in that nighttime air
You got me wide eyed, messy hair
Don’t know what I’m saying but I just don’t care
And I just can’t take this feeling right here
But I like it
I like it
Yeah I like it

You say goodbye for today and I know what that means
You’ll reach out to me now put your arms around me
And for a couple seconds I don’t think I can breathe but I like it
Yeah I like it

And I didn’t know seeing your name on my phone could look so good
But the way you say hello you got me hooked don’t you know
I’m hoping you don’t see what it does to me
When you wear that tee with those jeans
And I can’t compete with my heartbeat
you’re taking over me
I surrender

Just breathe in that nighttime air
You got me wide eyed, messy hair
Don’t know what I’m saying but I just don’t care
And I just can’t take this feeling right here
But I like it
I like it
Yeah I like it

iiiiiiiiii I can’t compete with my heart beat
iiiiiiiii I can’t compete with my heartbeat

Just breathe in that nighttime air
You got me wide eyed, messy hair
Don’t know what I’m saying but I just don’t care
And I just can’t take this feeling right here
But I like it
I like it
Yeah I like it

Cameron Dallas Imagine for Rosie

Can I get a Cameron imagine where we fight and then like years/months we see eachother and get back together? My name is Rosie

I’ve had it Cameron! I haven’t seen you in a whole fucking month, and now that I am here, all you do is hang out with the boys and leave me alone in the hotel room! You act like you don’t give a crap about me!" 

"Well I’m sorry I have friends Rosie, maybe if you actually went out and made some of your own friends, this wouldn’t be a problem!”

“All I’m asking for is for you to spend a little bit of time with me! Is that too much to ask? I have seen you for about an hour in the past week and we share a room together!”

“When did you become so clingy, god. Get off my back and just leave me alone!”

“Leave you alone? Fine, I’ll leave you alone, for good. Goodbye asshole.” Pushing past Cameron, I slam the door to the hotel room, quickly sending a text to Nick asking him to book me a flight back home. Glancing back at the hotel room, i realize that this is it, this is the end, this is goodbye.


It has been 6 months since Cam and I broke up. I wasn’t as shaken up as I thought I’d be, I got over it quite fast. But standing here, in the same room as Cam was making my heart hurt. All the memories came flooding back to me like a tidal wave, I was drowning. I thought I’d be okay coming to Magcon, but it seems like I was wrong. “Rosie, you coming?” My friend says. Snapping back to reality, i realize that the lines moved up and behind me is a swarm of angry girls telling me to ‘move my ass’.

The queue to meet the boys was huge. It felt kinda weird to be waiting in line to meet boys I used to be friends with. My heart skips a beat when I catch a glimpse of Cam. “I can’t believe I let you guys drag me here.” I whisper-shout to my friend.

“Oh, come on Rosie, stop being a baby. Have you even seen Cam since you broke up?” I sigh.

“Guys, the point of the break up was so I didn’t have to see Cam again, or did that slip your minds?”

“I think it’ll be good for you to see him. It’ll give you a kind of closure, ya know?”

“Closure? I broke up with him guys, I don’t need 'closure’, I’m fine.”

My friend rolls her eyes. “We all know you still like him Rosie.”

“I do not still like Cameron.”

“Hmm, yea sure. If you don’t like him, why are you still talking about him?” She says, smirking, successfully shutting me up.

“I, well. I don’t know.” I mumble. She gives me the 'I told you so’ look and i give her a glare in return.

The security guard screams 'Next’ and before I know it, I am face to face with Shawn. “Hey Rosie, long time no see.” He says.

“Yea, it’s been a while.” Aside from Cam, Shawn and I were the closet. I was able to tell him anything and vice versa, if i missed anyone, it would be Shawn.

“How you been?” He says, picking up my shirt to sign.

“Pretty good, we should catch up later.” I say, smiling as I pick up my shirt. 

“Definitely.” He responds and I move up in the line.

The conversation basically replays itself with each boy, until I reach Cameron. The closer i get to him, the more my palms begin to sweat and the faster my hearts beats. Fuck, I should not feel this way. I don’t like him, or do I?

“Hey Cam.” I say softly and he looks up at me, looking purely shocked.

“Oh, hey Rosie. Can we talk, later I mean?” He suggests, his voice quiet.

I glance up at him, making eye contact for the first time in ages. My brain is telling me to say no, but my brain is no longer in control as my heart takes over. I nod my head softly and he smiles, clearly pleased with my answer. “I’ll see you later Rosie.”

I nod again, afraid that if I speak I will say something I will forever regret. Sighing, I think about what I just got myself into. 

I wait around the venue, waiting for Magcon to finish. I play around on my phone until I hear my name being called. “Hey Rosie.” Cam says, jogging up to me, slightly breathless.

“What did you want to talk about?” I say, refusing to make eye contact, knowing that if I do, I’ll break.

“I want to talk about us Rosie.” He says, sitting down beside me.

“There is no 'us’ Cameron, 'us’ ended months ago.” I say coldly.

“It doesn’t have to be like that. Come on Rosie, I missed you.”

“It doesn’t have to be like anything Cam, I want it to be like that! You should’ve thought about this when you kept ditching me for your friends.” You stand up, wanting to end the conversation.

“I’m not letting you walk away again.” He says, grabbing onto my wrist and pulling me into him. 

I begin to relax in his arms, immediately feeling safe in his all too familiar arms. “Let me go Cam.” I mumble into his chest. 

“I’m not letting you go. Take me back. I need you Rosie, I am sorry. I am so sorry. I was and I am an idiot. Letting you go was so stupid of me and when you left, I realized that you were right. I should have spent more time with you and I shouldn’t have let you go so easily.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea Cam.”

“Please Rosie, give me a second chance!” He looks me in the eyes, his brown eyes watering every so lightly.

Sighing, I let my heart take over my mind again. “One more chance Dallas, just don’t fuck it up.”

Hope you liked it Rosie :)

Street Racer!Namjoon

So the street racer series is still going, I may start another series before I finish this one and have them going on at the same time (I’m thinking of doing the college AU finally) so let me know what you guys think of that, would you prefer one series at a time or having a couple going at once, now it is time for our amazing leader, my lowkey spirit animal, someone who’s really fucking nice like do you ever just look at someone and go w o w or like you see a really good picture and it’s just like thank you to whoever took that I’ve been blessed, Kim Namjoon aka Rap Monster aka joon

  • This features a tiny hint of bookstore owner!joon (here)
  • Visuals are up first bc I love this part it’s so interesting to me
  • I gotta bring in pink!joon bc it was just such a look
  • Okay so my favorite hair on joon is personally that blue purple look he had for 0.2 seconds that I still cri over but the pink hair ranks pretty damn high too
  • He just has this ability to pull off pretty much any hair color and it’s confusing as shit bc how can he make bright ass red look niCe and then turn around and have black hair and still look just as nice and then have blonde hair and look incredible like how the fuck
  • I have way too many choices for this AU like I had to stop and think about this bc blonde!joon is a thing and it’s a v v nice thing but then red hair I saw some pictures of it and it was also really nice but then there’s the blue/purple hair so in the end I chose the pink bc I just really liked it and I don’t think I use it enough in AUs bc oh wow that is some nice hair I wanna braid it
  • He has a half sleeve on his right arm that he’s still working on slowly but surely
  • So the boys all have a tattoo related to Bangtan right well Namjoon’s is on the back of his middle finger he’s got the signature “B” written on it
  • Okay real quick, this is lowkey a canon look bc if you guys think back to the jacketbook for Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 2, where joon has the pink hair, he’s got the hand tattoos that’s street racer!joon entirely
  • So head canon time 
  • During the day, joon’s just this super cute bookstore owner with this smol store next to the cafe owned by Jin and they do deals all the time like buy a book from joon, get a free pastry, buy a coffee get a free book (my Namjin heart is taking over gotTA GO)
  • So during the day, he’s all cardigans and these adorable ass glasses bc have you seen joon in glasses that is some good shit right there and he’s also always got a cup of tea in his hand and he’s just so aesthetic like the entire shop is just really pleasing
  • But then the second that shop closes, out comes badass!joon in all black and he’s tall as fuck and broad and the tattoos are being shown off and it’s just like uh hi are you still the same person I bought the Harry Potter books from
  • Namjoon does a lot of racing but he prefers to handle the finances and the bets and it’s his job to help the boys pick out which bets to make
  • Each of the boys have their strengths so joon knows that if Jin races a long distance race against someone who’s specialty is long distance, chances are it won’t end well for Jin bc he does best at the short distance races and that’s more of what his car is tailored for
  • So joon really helps them out but he’s also a really talented driver
  • He’s got this older car that’s a lil more on the used side and it definitely isn’t as flashy as some of the other cars but then he drives it and everyone is just like well daMN
  • Bc joon let it look a bit more rustic but he had Yoongi help him totally replace the engine with top of the line highest quality you can get parts and that entire car is just designed for speed
  • Namjoon is another long distance racer, he thrives in the fact that his opponent is thinking that this old ass car with the “librarian” driving it won’t catch up to him but then it’s just o h shit
  • Bc the second they get to that halfway point, joon’s just casually driving past them with his middle finger up to “showcase the tattoo”
  • You find out pretty quickly that joon is a racer, he’s not very good at keeping secrets especially from you bc when it’s time for pillow talk, all of his walls are down and he can’t remember what he’s supposed to keep hush
  • You’re not super on board until you see how happy it makes him
  • He’s got this smile on his face when he talks about it and his eyes light up and he’s just so excited about it he almost forgets how tired he is
  • And when you actually see him drive, you figure another year or so of this wouldn’t hurt, he seems so happy and excited he’s laughing the entire time and he’s showing you what all of the buttons do
  • “Joon I know what a gas pedal is”
  • “But this one is special it-”
  • “Speeds the car up?”
  • “…quickly, it speeds the car up quickly”