anonymous asked:

hey there... thanks for answering! I guess at times jm wanna show whose older or maybe a sweeter reason 4 doin so. saw a couple of times that jm held his wrist (like today) drg final bow. Home Party too after jk made jm's sketch of him no.1. jk wanted to high-5 but he held his wrist.. and jk has a habit of holding jm thumb (uno game drg BTS Run & when jk touched the takoyaki machine that jm held drg a jap tv show. the vid actually slowed down at that part! i really thot it is fr original source.

part 2: lol… jm wrist vs jk thumb.. also, i realised ever since this leg of the jap tour, noone has uploaded the moments drg 21st CG… They have moved it to earlier part so i guess secutity must be more alert… but then again, there were so many photos of the boys at other parts… strange i think.. lol.. i heard so much abt intense jk/km moments at nagoya day 2. saw many anon posts wishin u well. hope u r ok! really appreciate ur hard work. Bless you!

right~! when i said jimin holding jungkook’s wrist could be an act of dominance i meant it the same way you did—a way to assert his position as “hyung.” if you look at the body language jimin uses w/kookie when he’s in this mode (grabbing his wrist, draping an arm around his shoulder, gently holding his fingers) it all screams possessive. but in an intimate way b/c these are places/ways of touching that are usually reserved for people you’re close to. it’s jimin’s subtle way of reaffirming his affection for jungkook. 

and like you pointed out, there are times kookie does it too~

and as for the lack of photos + fancams of those jikook moments so far in japan…lets hope fans just need some time to upload everything and we’ll get those receipts soon. c’:

One Step Ahead, Chapter 5: Pool Sticks and Road Trips

Rowan knew that letting Celaena out of his sight was not an option. If he lost her now, he’d most likely never be able to find her again. Not on his terms, at least. And he couldn’t go back to Maeve—or Arobynn, for that matter—empty handed. So after the golden haired assassin left the bakery, he waited sixty seconds before following her into the main streets of Rifthold. This part was easy. Now that he had her scent, Rowan could follow Celaena to the ends of the world. He was all but invisible, and would be harder to catch than the wind in one’s fingers. He stayed three cars behind at all times, and, when possible, two lanes to the left. He trailed her down street after street, his green eyes never wavering from his target. Celaena was slippery, he knew that first hand. He wasn’t going to let her slip away from him again.

Not taking his eyes off her generic blue car, Rowan pulled out his cell phone and called Vaughan. The white haired man knew when he needed help, and Vaughan was the best researcher in Erilea. He could dig up the dirt on anyone. Politicians hates him, lords of the underworld loved him, and Maeve owned him. Jaw twitching at the thought, Rowan waited patiently as the phone rang and rang. That wasn’t unusual for the dark haired man, though. Vaughan was a man of few words, and often screened his calls to limit social interaction. Eventually the ringing stopped and a female automated voice told him to leave a message, “Vaughan,” he greeted, merging into the right lane when he noticed Celaena heading towards the off ramp. “It’s me. I need help with some research. I need you to look into the Galathynius family—and their murders—ASAP. I need everything you can find. Thanks,” he hung up. Rowan wouldn’t consider himself a man of few words, especially not compared to Vaughan, but he wasn’t one to beat around the bush and waste his and Vaughan’s time, either. “Where are you going?” He wondered aloud to himself as he followed Celaena down Main Street, past the Rifthold police department, fire department, justice building … all the way down to city hall. The tall, imperious building was one of a kind, and almost entirely made of stained glass. The mayor had sanctioned the extremely expensive renovation of the building immediately after he won his first election several decades ago. Rowan shook his head the the monstrosity, wondering how much, exactly, it had cost the city to build.

The cleaner didn’t have time to put much more thought into the price of the building, though, when Celaena’s car pulled into city hall’s parking lot. Frowning, Rowan couldn’t for the life of him fathom why Adarlan’s Assassin would willingly walk into such a place. Instead of following her into the parking lot, the white haired male turned right and parked on the street two blocks away from his destination. Running his fingers through his hair, Rowan took in a deep breath before stepping out of his car and back tracking towards Celaena. Walking into city hall, Rowan found a security guard and asked, “Excuse me, my wife came in here just before me while I was parking the car, but I can’t seem to find her,” he furrowed his brow and scoffed good naturedly. “Women, right? You take your eye of them for one second and—” he trailed off, rolling his eyes for extra measure and the security guard chuckled.

“Yeah, know what you mean. What’s she look like?”

“Long blonde hair, white, about yay high,” he raised his hand to his shoulder before adding, “and gorgeous enough to make a model jealous.”

“A model, huh?” The guard scratched his chin, “Yeah, I saw someone that fit that description. Pretty little thing. She went down that way,” he jerked his thumb down the stair well. “Probably wanted to see the old vault—it’s open to visitors during business hours, y'know?”

“I didn’t know,” he did, but he decided he’d go with the wide eyed tourist look. “Thanks for you help.” Rowan headed down the stairs, smirking to himself. He knew it had been a gamble, parking so far away and giving Celaena such a head start in such a large building, but he also knew that nine out of ten secutity guards were men, and that Celaena was way too attractive to go anywhere without attracting the male gaze. That’s what she got, he supposed, for being hotter than the freaking sun. He stepped off the stair well and looked down the hall in the direction of the vault, then walked in the opposite direction. The vault—an empty one, especially—held no interest for the assassin. There must have been something else drawing her down here. The sound of barking laughter, just barely audible, made his ears twitch, and gave Rowan a direction to start his search. Just a few hundred yards away was a solid oak door, muffling the sound of a woman and two men. Not bothering to knock, Rowan swung the door open and narrowed his eyes on a strange sight. Celaena—Adarlan’s Assassin, Celaena—was standing off to the side of the room, a pool stick in her hand, looking for just a brief moment like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar before she quickly schooled her features. And on the other side of the pool table stood two men. Both looking at him with wide eyes and one with a mouth agape. Both whose presence was more shocking than the next. Closer to Celaena stood Chaol Westfall, son of the police commissioner and rising star of the police department, and closest to Rowan stood Dorian Havilliard, son of the mayor himself.

“Well, well, well,” Rowan growled, “what an interesting gathering of friends.”

Westfall moved fast—faster than Rowan would’ve given him credit for—and drew his gun, training it on the spot between Rowan’s eyes. “Hands on your head, Whitethorn,” he ordered.

Barring his teeth at the younger man, Rowan slowly began to raise his hands, acting the part of a submissive criminal, ready to give himself in. Chaol’s brown eyes stayed glued to his form, but he wasn’t infallible, Rowan knew that was true of everyone, and he had to blink sometime.


Rowan didn’t hesitate. Diving to the ground, he ducked into a somersault well beneath the gun’s range, and as he sprung out of his gymnastic movement, lunged for Westfall’s waist, tackling him to the ground. Placing one hand around the police officer’s neck, and the other around the wrist which held the gun, the Cleaner squeezed one and used the other to break the grip around the weapon. Forcing his knee into the man’s sternum, Rowan secured the gun and placed it against Westfall’s forehead. “Try that again,” he warned, leaning in, “and the next time you blink, your eyes will stay closed.”

Something hard and thin slapped against the side of his jaw. Flicking his eyes to his left, he saw Celaena standing over him, pool stick in hand and poised to strike. If it were anynone else, he’d have laughed outright—a pool stick, really?—but this was Adarlan’s Assassin. And if Rowan could think of at least three ways to kill someone with that pool stick, he knew without a doubt that she had already thought of five. And considering the hard line of her mouth, and the fire burning behind her eyes, the white haired man knew she also wouldn’t give him a second chance. “Put the rutting gun on the floor and get off my friend,” she hissed.

Running his tongue over his teeth, Rowan sighed and nodded. If it were anyone else, he thought. Or if he had just a bit more room between them. But it wasn’t and he didn’t, so he dropped the gun and peeled himself off the red faced police officer. “That’s what I get for being distracted by a gun … I should have gone after the real weapon first,” he said, raising a brow at the assassin and adding a charming smirk to complete the look. “Interesting company you keep, Celaena.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” she never took her eyes off him—never blinked, either, damn her—and kept the pool stick trained on his chest. Her brow rose, mirroring his, “Didn’t know you and Arobynn were so chummy.”

His smirk fell, “How’d you—?”

Her eyes glinted, “A little birdie told me. Now,” she finally relented and let the pool stick’s point fall to the floor. Rowan knew better than to assume that meant she let her guard down, she could still bring him to his knees in less than three moves if she wanted. Westfall coughed to the side of them, but neither of their gazes wavered. “Why are you following me?”

“I told you,” he shrugged, forcing his muscles to relax so as to seem casual. It wouldn’t work of Celaena, but if he could get one of the other two to let their guards down, step just a bit too close, the winds could easily change to his favor. “I need that ring.”

“Oh, yes,” her upper lip curled, “for Maeve.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” a gentle voice called from behind Rowan and both criminals blinked. Then, continued their silent conversation from before.

Truce? Celaena’s eyes asked warily.

Rowan nodded slowly, Truce.

“Or, well, actually I do,” that voice continued, much more forcefully and with a bit of bite than Rowan hadn’t expected from the mayor’s son. Both Rowan and Celaena turned to give the dark haired man their full attention. “Forgive me Celaena,” Dorian said in a tone that was not at all apologetic. “but will you be needing Chaol or my assistance now that our game has been interrupted? Or are we free to leave?”

Scoffing, Celaena rolled her eyes and cocked her hip, “Shut up, Dorian.” She said it like it answered his question. Her eyes flickered to Wesfall, whose neck was slowly turning a dark shade of purple, and her eyes softened. Rowan’s nostrils flared dangerously, and he suddenly felt the impulse to throttle him all over again. Swallowing down the sudden rush of anger, Rowan tuned back in to the conversation. “Get out of here, you two. I’ll call you both later.”

Dorian nodded, and took a step towards the door, the paused and took a deep breath before looking into Rowan’s green eyes. “Just so you know,” he said in a low voice, “Celeana borrowed a book from me, and if anything happens to her and I never see that book again … I’ll be very put out.” Havilliard turned heel and walked out of the room with his chin held high. Rowan supposed that was how politicians delivered threats. How strange. Westfall was more direct, though less articulate, as he left the room, making sure to check the white haired man’s shoulder on his way out.

Once the door closed behind them, Rowan turned back around to find Aelin staring at him with her tongue sticking out. Snorting, Rowan shook his head, “That’s attractive.”

Shrugging, she replied, “I know.” Rolling her neck, she tossed the pool stick onto the velvety green table top and sighed, “You’re never going to give up on this ring thing, are you?” Rowan raised a brow. He didn’t need to justify that question with an actual answer. Glaring at him, Celaena growled out, “Fine. I’ll give it to you.” Rowan felt his shoulder slump in relief, but then she started talking again and all the tension that just bled out of him was drawn back, “On one condition.”

Holding back a groan, the Cleaner asked, “Which is?” He was really getting tired of doing everyone’s dirty work. First the ring, then the necklace—which he still hadn’t brought up to her—now this. His life was turning into a joke.

Smiling coyly at him, Celaena took a step closer and placed a hand on his chest, making his heart stutter traitorously, “Come away with me.”

“What?” He breathed out, sure he had heard her incorrectly.

“Come away with me. I’m going out of town for a few days and I want you to come along.”

All Rowan could think to ask was, “Why?”

“You’re easy on the eyes,” she shrugged. He leveled her with a look and she grinned mischievously, “And I find road trips boring.”

“So bring one of your law abiding friends,” he jerked his chin towards the door that Westfall and Havilliard exited out of just minutes ago. “Or someone less likely to kill you in your sleep.”

“See? You’re making things more exciting already,” she poked his chest, as if that settled everything. Then she held out her hand, “So, what do you say? We have a deal?”

“A few days on the road with you, and you’ll willingly hand over the ring? No trickery?” Rowan clarified. Celaena nodded, her smile never wavering. Sighing and realizing this would be the path with least resistance, he nodded and shook his head. “Fine, we have a deal.”

OKAY. so lets forget/ignore how ugly as fuck that “edit” looks (is that even an edit? i just put text omf) and lets get down to it! As it may be very obvious, im doing this follow forever for my 17th birthday which is either today or tomorrow depending on when this goes up!! As most of u may know i deleted my blog two/three months ago and so if any one i use to follow isnt on here, pleasse lemme know because i use to follow 900+ blogs and i currently only follow 400 because ive either forgotten ur url, or u may have changed ur url while i was gone and so therefor i got no clue who u are!! so if we use to be mutual please lemme know. but basically i cant tell you how many amazing people ive met through tumblr. i started here when i was 15 and now im 17. every single person on this list either fills my dash with beautiful amazing edits, or their own presence brings me nothing but happiness. If you’re reading this and you’ve in ANY way talked to me, made me smile. defended me, helped me, or have just been there for me i want to thank you so so much. But enough of the sappy teary stuff, lets get down to it shall we? The blogs in bold are some of my faves. if ur on here at all consider yourself the love of my life p.s if i followed u like 2 hours ago and ur in this follow forever thinking to urself  wtf, its most likely because i followed u before i deleted and i was looking through tags and found ur blog, recognized it, and refollowed.




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