Or just reasons to love him. (From the POV of a Yoongi stan)
raps faster than the speed of light. hella control over his voice
plays the piano
amazing on stage; in his element
his mixtape saved hiphop. saved lives. saved the world goddamn Yoongi
AGUSTD - Intro: Dt sugA (ft. DJ Friz) - AgustD - give it to me -skit -724148 -140503 at dawn -The Last -Tony Montana (ft. Yankie) -Interlude ; Dream, Reality -so far away (ft. Suran)
he produced the entire thing. it didn’t feel like individual tracks on an album. it felt very complete, in a way i’ve never seen before.
released this masterpiece to the world for free; on soundcloud, on a google drive, on mediafire, on spotify…
He had no problematic lyrics on his mixtape. He doesn’t imitate or glorify modern American hiphop. There are no meaningless lyrics, no misogyny, no materialism or racial slurs. Instead, he talks about himself and builds on that.
worked on his mixtape in between his schedule. sometimes while on the plane, sometimes while working on other music for BTS.
Has a polar bear protection bracelet. Really likes polar bears.
was the happiest person in the world when he met Kumamon it was all too adorable
Very socially aware. Wants to use his fame to shift people’s attention to global problems.
When he and Taehyung got sick and were rushed to the hospital, they ended up having to cancel the concert in Kobe. During his vacation time, he went to the stadium they were supposed to perform in by himself and wrote a post about it in the fancafe. He sat in the seats of the stadium and forced himself to imagine the fans’ emotions on the day that was supposed to be the concert. He wrote a long apology. He felt so guilty it kept him awake every night since the incident. He didn’t know what else to do. He promised never to let the fans down again and to work harder.
works from from 12 am - 6 am on music. even after a full day of training or concert preparation or filming. only to sleep for 2 or 3 hours or not at all to start the next day. sleeps whenever he gets the chance. gives the day’s events his full energy regardless.
when BTS had to pack for their backpacking trip through Europe, he was the one that remembered to pack medicine and first aid supplies. he cleaned up before leaving the hotel room. helped cook. was in charge of their budget.
wrote/composed/produced some of BTS’s best songs: -Tomorrow -Nevermind -Intro (HYYH pt. 1) -Dead Leaves -Fun Boyz -Just One Day -Let Me Know -Paldogangsan (with Hoseok & Namjoon) -Cypher pt 1, 2, & 3 (with Hoseok & Namjoon)
participates in the making of almost every BTS song
he looks gorgeous in every hair colour he’s literally so beautiful
once said he would sue Bighit if his hair started falling out lmao
his smile that shows his gums
laughs in 10 different ways
his voice sounds beautiful in Whalien52 aka one of my favourite songs
in the song “Move” he dedicated his section to his mom, who was sick after she gave birth to him
in “If I ruled the world” he dreams, if he could have anything, it would be to buy a house for his family
danced around his studio in the early hours of the morning when “Nevermind” was approved to be the intro of HYYH pt.2
really likes lamb skewers. Wants to open a lamb skewer restaurant with Jungkook
his only goal is to make music that gives people emotions (comfort). the root of his passion, goes back to when he started making music at the age of 13.
his dream was to perform at Olympic Gymnastics Arena. At the end of the concert, he looked for his parents and brother in the crowd. When he saw them, he smiled and got on the floor to do a deep bow, the kind where your forehead touches the ground. This is when he sobbed for the first time at a concert.
at fansigns, fans get to write them a question. “What’s more important? Face or body?” is asked a lot, not just to BTS but all Kpop groups. Yoongi is the only one that writes a third option, “Personality” and circles it and writes that it is the most important. He does this every time the question comes up.
When given the question, “What type of girl?” or “What type of style do you like in a girl?” He circles all of them.
his ideal type is someone who likes music and someone he can communicate with. there are never any other specifications.
when asked for the ideal weight in a girl, he writes a ridiculous number
when asked what age difference he would date, he wrote “81 years” lol
tells everyone to eat well and take care of themselves. loves his fans more than anything.
extremely open-minded person
when he and Namjoon were being disrespected by Bfree during an interview, he stayed calm and handled the situation well. Then proceeded to drAG THE HELL OUT OF HIM IN CYPHER PT. 2
the “S” in Suga stands for “Savage”
literally sarcastic all the time
“If we’re talking about regrets you should think of some of your past selcas” - to Jimin
king of “I meant to do that”
the time he and Hoseok reacted to a “Try not to laugh challenge” of their own members and Yoongi laughed so hard he choked
his existence is pretty much art in itself
the thing he does when his members are doing something embarrassing and he just curls up and covers his face
“Min Suga. Genius. Those two words should be enough. *shrugs*”
“I want to reincarnate and be a rock in my next lifetime”
“I’m Father Louis Williams Suga Adams the Third”
“I’m good at doing ugly stuff”
“I was destined to be taller, but there were some errors in my development.”
“I’d like to introduce you to my lover…this neckpillow"
“I’ve always wanted to nap in a different country”
on his first birthday after he debuted, he spent his own money to make small gifts for his fans and hand-wrote over 300 notes for the fans that were going to come to see him on his birthday. he spent a long time because he wanted to make each note different. at the event, he got embarrassed because “it’s not much but I hope you all like it”. he learned that instead of 300, 350 came and he made 50 more to send to them.
the next year, he made packages again but this time with transportation cards so the fans could use them when they came to see them. hand-written letters again, signed polaroids and ordered special envelopes.
gave Jimin his credit card to charge the passes with, and when Jimin jokingly said he’s going to spend his money on snacks, Yoongi unhesitatingly said “Okay”
he did something again this year, but just didn’t vlog about it.
took pictures of Jungkook at his graduation like he was a proud parent
the time when he and Hoseok lost a game and didn’t get dinner. Jimin brought them a crab from their table, and Yoongi let Hoseok have it. “Seeing my dongsaeng eat makes me feel full."
Bangtan love him. They say Yoongi takes care of them well, especially his dongsaengs. He’s the one that silently takes care of them all.
The time Yoongi took Jimin out to eat sushi, and while Jimin was tying his shoes, Yoongi paid and told him they could go. "Of course, I’m the hyung."
says his members are his closest friends. says Bighit is like a family
when Hoseok was celebrating New Years alone in the dorms, Yoongi left his family and showed up with chicken just so Hoseok wouldn’t have to spend new years by himself
Maschine mk2 review what a nerd
that time he tried to install a music editing software and ranted for 10 years on the fancafe because technology is problematic
that one time Yoongi got really passionate about coffee and said he needed 309 people to help him "catch” coffee
does reviews and gives insight on all of BTS’s albums
the time he sang his heart out with Hoseok for “I was able to eat well” and sounded terrible
the time they had a high note challenge and Yoongi sang so “high” that no noise came out
so extra. all the time.
“the director said it would only take 5 minutes. It’s been exactly 4 minutes and 58 seconds"
that time he had to introduce himself and pulled confetti out of his pocket and threw it over himself
but also unamused
he is a paradox
“I want to go baaaaaaaack”
easily put in his place by Jin, his hyung. But also ignores all of his jokes.
cannot dance for his life (literally flailing in DOPE) but is a really good dancer (FIRE ????)
he just works hard
unhesitatingly kicked Jimin in the balls when he started dancing over his legs while he was trying to sleep. didn’t even wake up.
that time Taehyung was really nervous on stage and kept stuttering and messing up his words. the members laughed and poked fun at him, but Yoongi shushed them and the audience and told Taehyung to breathe and relax and start again. This time Taehyung didn’t stutter
literally a deadass person at the awards show until Namjoon was up next to perform and Yoongi couldn’t stop being hyped and looking for him
makes fun of his members all the time but always makes sure they’re comfortable
witty but never crude
says he’s not always the best at expressing himself verbally, but wants everyone to know he is always thankful
kindest, bravest, strongest person to ever grace this earth. blesses the lives of everyone he touches
There are certain things I didn’t include in there, because they are a part of his mixtape and I think that speaks for itself.
Summary: Phil doesn’t like when hate preachers come to campus. They make him nervous and uncomfortable. But this time, Dan is there to help him through it in an unexpected, yet pleasant way. Word Count: 2,201 Warnings: homophobic slurs, hate speech, anxiety Title creds: Let the Flames Begin - Paramore A/N: Thank you to @snowbunnylester (as always) for prompting me this! I’ve been on a writing splurge lately and I honestly don’t know how I’m doing it. Lemme know it you like this!
There is an angry aura surrounding campus in the form of ignorant slurs and angry responses. This only happens on the occasion, but it makes Phil nervous each time, a pit in his stomach and his throat closing up as he tries to walk as fast as possible past the angry crowd.
There was a man, dressed in preacher’s clothes and holding a sign with a list of the types of people who were going to “go to hell”. Phil didn’t have to look to know that homosexuals and masturbators and adulterers were on the list. He swallowed and ducked his head, trying to move as fast as he could. Dan was ahead of him, probably shaking his head and scoffing as he does every time they passed by a preacher like this. Sometimes Phil thinks he’s more upset about this kind of thing than Phil is, despite being the heterosexual one in their friendship, just by the way he wasn’t afraid to shout his opinions right back.
Hiii the story you wrote about Andrew and Neil that I asked for awhile ago was awesome even though I know it was a hard one. I was wo dering if you can do 98 about Ronan and Adam?
(that is SWEET and also I bastardized your prompt a little >:))
98: “I want to thank you for putting up with me. I know that I’m not the easiest person to get along with.”
He’s locking up the repair shop with his arms full of backpack and keys clamped between his teeth when someone honks behind him. He startles so hard that everything landslides down onto springy wet grass.
“Sorry!” Gansey calls, head popped outside of what must be the pig, if Adam could see past the dizzy glare of the headlights. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. You’d better come sit down.”
Adam breathes deep, mentally slicing his evening into pieces like he always does when an expensive car rolls up and his name is called. He stoops over to gather the textbooks spilling out of his bag, the scatter of his few precious pens and his bike lock.
When he looks up, Gansey’s switched on his high beams to passive aggressively hurry him along. He slows down a little out of halfhearted spite.
Adam tucks his backpack through the headrests to the backseat and then leans into the front of the car to look at Gansey expectantly. He’s making a face that’s about as close to a grimace as a Gansey can get.
“Ronan ran away.”
Adam blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Gansey breathes. Adam feels his newborn worry ebb and blink out.
“Well he’s at home, then. He’s not going to run far from the Barns.”
“That’s what I’d imagined, but he’s nowhere on Lynch property. Blue and I went on a merry hunt all afternoon.”
Adam feels his chest kick and fight and try to make a scene. “And you didn’t tell me until now?” He hates that his voice sounds like the raw insides of undercooked meat, like he’s delicate and bloody.
“Well we thought it was fixable, and you were at work—“
“I’m always at work, Gansey, and it’s never deterred you before. If my— if Ronan really did disappear—“
“He did,” Gansey says emphatically, and Adam frowns.
“Knocked on my door at 6 am this morning holding this.” He produces a sheet of torn off looseleaf from his breast pocket and hands it to Adam gingerly.
Adam unfolds it.
Tell Adam I’m sorry.
He looks up, swallowing. Gansey’s watching him closely, obviously trying to gauge a response.
“At least he’s started apologizing,” he says weakly, a thin needle of hurt pinning his words together.
“It doesn’t seem like he’s starting anything,” Adam says, his anger and worry taking each other by the throat. “He’s giving up.”
“I think,” Gansey says, “that he’s very bad at grieving.”
“No one’s good at grieving. Not that you’ve ever had to know.”
Gansey recoils. He has a flighty look on his face like he would very much like to abandon this conversation if it weren’t taking place in his most prized possession. “I’m not the one that left, Adam,” he says pointedly, and Adam swears, apologizes, and climbs into the passenger seat.
“Take me to the Barns.”
Gansey looks at him sideways, and Adam would have the pity in his eyes for a punching bag. “He really isn’t there.”
“I know,” Adam says impatiently, “I’m going to steal his car.”
Hello! I've been really admiring your colored pencil work and was wondering if you had any tips or suggestions on how to blend colors? Or maybe any good references/tutorials I could look at? Thank you very much regardless, and I hope you have a good day!
Hi ! I hope you don’t mind me publishing this publicly, because I’ve been thinking about sharing some traditional art tips I’ve discovered over the years and this ask is the perfect occasion to do it.
Okay first of all I’m self-taught and never been to art school so maybe some the things I’m gonna say are actually bad ! Take it with a grain of salt and experiment yourself ! Also this is gonna be about coloured pencils only so… Yeah.
Okay so :
- I know the tool doesn’t make the artist but when it comes to coloured pencils it makes a great fucken difference whether your pencils are 1euro offbrand Rik et Rok at Auchan or… Better quality. If you’re really determined to work traditionally with pencils, you should think about getting some good pencils, where they have more pigment and a thicker consistence. I’m partial to Faber-Castell Polychromos but they’re very pricey so if you find another good brand that’s cheaper go for it (also hit me up ahah)
- Every brand is different. As I said, I primarily use Faber-Castell but recently my aunt gave me another brand that is a also “quality brand” (I don’t have the box at my flat so I don’t remember the name) but while the colours were really vibrant they also spread and smudged much more easily. I didn’t really like it, but if you’re used to it, I’m sure you can do great stuff !
- Also, use untextured paper. I don’t know why they say grainy paper is ideal for pencils ahah ^^ It gives a weird pixel effect when you scan it because of the tiny white holes you can’t fill with your pencil. I like smooth Canson paper better ! I use Exacompta paper but I mean there are a ton of brands who offer the same stuff.
- You can sketch with a mechanical pencil and everything but you shouldn’t keep graphite pencil on your page when you colour, otherwise your colours are going to get a weird greyish colour and it’s just Ugly. For me it’s the hard part of drawing digitally: I sketch with a mechanical pencil, then I take a coloured pencil and erase every line to trace over it with the coloured pencil. It’s boring and hard but it’s for the greater good.
- When you line with the coloured pencil, take an “in between colour”, like that’s what I call some colours that blend well with everything ? Because lines will smudge so you want to avoid clashes. Dark colours such as purple or black I tend to avoid because huge dark smudges aren’t a good look, unless you’re going for something in that colour palette. Same for all other colours, especially blues (cause the SECOND you use yellow it’s Over - be super careful with yellow and blue I’m warning you so you can avoid my fate). I usually take a deep pink (magenta) because pink is the ideal blend colour since it’s between warm and cool tones. Sometimes when I want to go for a more natural look I use browns that blend well too.
- Also once you’re done colouring reline everything because smudged/less clear/less vibrant lines
- I tend to line everything with the same colour so there is continuity within the drawing. I use other colours for when I want a certain item to pop up.
- Pink is your ultimate best friend. Want to make that gradient between yellow and blue ? Use pink in the middle. It works for everything. I love pink.
- The trick is, go lightly at first, then add more and more layers. Think a bit like digital layers ? You do your flats first (rough colours, you don’t even have to fill it all properly like you can leave some white), then you put a layer of another colour (usually with the strokes in another direction like if your first colour has vertical strokes then go horizontally or diagonally), then another, then another again, and you refine that shit until it looks good.
- If you go on my earliest art pages you’ll see that my art wasn’t as well coloured as it is right now. Shit was LIGHT AS FUCK (and I kept complaining that I wasn’t able to get deep colours ahah). As with all shit, it’s gonna take a while to get it right.
- I hate colouring clothes so my Bullshit Secret Technique is horizontal or kinda wavy/following the movement of the clothing crosshatching with a lot of colours until it makes a decent gradient (see all of my drawings in April 2016)
- Single coloured flats are hard. Get one colour, then get another colour and draw over your flat. Okay it won’t be all the same colour but 1) nuances are good 2it’s easier for some reason. Maybe it’s just in your head ? I don’t know.
- If you can get one of these small eraser pens like pens but they’re erasers, get them, especially to erase your sketch, it saves lives. At least it saved mine. It’s so much easier to erase one line at a time than erase everything then lose track of where was what.
- Get a white gel ink pen for highlights and tiny sparkling stuff - Know where the light parts of your drawing are going to be beforehand because there’s no way to get them back once they’re gone.
- Get a tablet and draw digitally. You can do much more stuff much more easily. Patterns ? Highlights ? Fluorescence ? Ctrl-Z ? Flats ? Resizing ? Last-minute glow in the dark ? Can’t do that traditionally. It’s too late for me cause I’d have to relearn everything and I’m lazy but if you’re getting started draw digitally.
Aaand here ! I don’t know if that really helped you, I’ve said it before but I draw really instinctively so it’s hard to explain what I do ^^’ Thanks for the compliments though, and have a nice day too !
Jungkook was lying motionless in bed, staring at the ceiling. The clock on his bedside table was entirely too loud for him to think properly and it was beginning to annoy him. He could hear the gentle hum of traffic in downtown Seoul through the window, left slightly ajar to try and combat the sweltering heat that summer brought. His arms were behind his head, and he didn’t blink; he just stared at the ceiling as if it would offer some kind of solace, some kind of answer, some kind of… Anything. He didn’t care what he got, he just needed something more than the cracked plaster.
He knew they were talking about him. He knew that the half-assed lies, the furtive looks, the gentle treatment was because of what Jungkook had told Yoongi. Of course they would treat him differently and of course Yoongi would tell the others: he was hearing the voice of a girl who was lying comatose in a hospital bed a few miles away. He was becoming insane.
Was it because he was guilty? Because it was him, all him and the words that came out of his mouth, that caused you to run away from him and go flying down those stairs like you were nothing more than a doll. Was it because he missed you? Because he did. If somebody could turn the sheer magnitude of the agony he was in into something that could be contained within mere language, then he would use it. Jungkook had originally thought that so much pain would be enough to kill a man. Apparently not, as much as he wished it would.
Perhaps the others would tell some higher authority. Maybe they were scared of him, and what was going to happen to his mind. Maybe, just maybe, they were talking about him behind his back and discussing how much of a freak he was. Perhaps they were going to send him to a hospital, or a therapist, or someone to talk to.
Imagine if the press found out that the youngest of one of their favourite boybands was having a psychotic break? And because of a freak accident he caused, to a best friend they didn’t know he had? It’d be a field day, and Jungkook’s reputation would never be the same again.
He sighed, turning over slightly so he was staring at the wall instead of the ceiling. He decided, ultimately, that he didn’t care what the others thought or what the press thought or what the fans thought. He was okay, and he knew he was okay. Maybe the voices were just memories that he couldn’t get his mind out of because they were his happiest moments, with you. Maybe it was just his subconscious reminding him of you, and the pain he was in without you. He wished it wouldn’t. He wished his subconscious would fuck off and leave him to die.
“Jungkook, I’m right here.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and clasped his hands over his ears. Tears, tears he didn’t even know were falling, fell. He was sobbing, gasping, desperately clawing at himself and whatever he could reach to try and bore a hole into his skull and make the voices escape, disappear, leave him alone forever.
He didn’t know what was going on, but he was okay. He was okay.
He was fine.
You were fine.
You were right there with him.
You sighed in frustration, glaring down at the boy crying on his bed. Your heart ached for him, wanting nothing more than to reach out and stroke his greasy hair out of his face, to smooth your thumb over his cheek to wipe his tears. Nevertheless, you couldn’t deny that you were annoyed; you had made contact with Jungkook several times, and instead, he ignored you. He didn’t try and contact you back, and he didn’t bother looking for where the voice was. He just told his hyung and wrote your voice off as a mental disorder.
Perhaps it was, in all honesty.
You did everything you could to try and get his attention on you. Maybe him acknowledging you were there would put you back into your body somehow? You drew on steamed up mirrors and windows, you moved his things, you put things that had connections to you in front of him. But all he did was stare at them with the same bloodshot, tired eyes that he had for this entire time, and then moved it, wiped it away, ignored it.
You didn’t know what else you could do. You had tried you damned hardest to get him to realise that you were there, that you were literally right next to him, standing over him. In return, he was just trying to push you away, forcing you out of his heart and closing himself down from you. It hurt, admittedly, that your best friend was trying so hard to shut your existence out entirely, but you supposed that you couldn’t blame him.
It had been several months since you were last conscious, and Jungkook only visited you once a week now. Your hair had grown to little over a fuzz, like that of a newborn baby, but the lack of care was apparent in your skin and body. You had lost too much weight to be considered healthy, and your skin looked like it could do with a good cleanse.
It was one of those days that he visited you, sitting next to your bed with his feet up on it, lounging in his chair and filling you in on all the things that had happened even though you were present for all of it.
It was beginning to pass into autumn now, the leaves turning golden and orange, the air developing a harsh bite that you couldn’t even feel. Jungkook had started dressing warmer, though still the kind of casual that would have made his mother scold him.
It was mid-anecdote that Jungkook was interrupted by the door bursting open and a bundle of balloons and assorted gifts that were obviously purchased from the hospital gift shop came hurtling into the room, all carried by a girl that was obviously out of breath.
Jungkook didn’t move from his position, staring at the intruder in bewilderment, and even you furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t recognise her, and it seemed that Jungkook didn’t either, so you had no idea why she had come running into your room with such urgency.
“I’m so, so sorry that I’m so late, I swear this time it was traffic for sure, I-” The girl stopped upon noticing who was in the bed, realising that it was not whoever she had come to visit. Her eyes widened, then crossed to Jungkook’s bewildered form and her cheeks lit up in embarrassment, eyes sliding shut and groaning in a perfectly frustrated way. “This isn’t my Mom’s room.”
“No, it isn’t,” Jungkook said, vague amusement apparent in his tone. You glanced at him and were almost floored by the slight tilt of a smile pulling up the right side of his mouth. Jungkook hadn’t smiled once since your accident, and the appearance of this seemingly discombobulated girl had managed to light up his features slightly?
You couldn’t suppress the flare of some kind of unidentified ugly emotion that shot through you, though you quickly stifled it back down again.
“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry- I didn’t see the room number- She must be next door, oh God, I seriously- This always happens,” she took a deep breath, the colour of her embarrassment still apparent in her cheeks. “I am so very sorry, sir, I wasn’t able to see the door numbers over all this,” she gestured to the assortment of items laden in her arms.
Jungkook shrugged lightly, still focused on her and the same half-smile present on his face.
“It’s okay, people make mistakes,” he said, leaning back in his chair again and running a hand through his hair that he had finally washed this morning. Upon realising that she was staring at him, obviously shocked by his appearance - you couldn’t blame her, having admired him plenty of times throughout your entire friendship - Jungkook cocked his head to one side and adopted a carefully innocent voice. “Isn’t your Mom next door?”
Cheeks flaring up brilliantly again, she floundered around to gather her thoughts and gaped her mouth several times, trying to say something but failing to collect the words.
“Right, yeah, so sorry, I just- I’ll just be going now, um, it was nice to meet you!” she informed him of her name and he repeated it slowly, his eyes scanning her entire body.
You placed your hands on your hip as his shameless ogling, the same emotion striking through you again, but this time you didn’t bother to quash it.
“I’m Jungkook,” he told her and she nodded. “Your mom might be waiting for you. Good luck.”
Then, he returned his focus back to you and she nodded, yet again, and stumbled out of the door, repeating apology after apology until the door shut behind her.
“She reminds me of you a little bit.”
“What the hell was that?” you demanded, ignoring what he said completely and watching his smile drop immediately at your tone of voice. “Jeon Jungkook, do you think you’re cool or something?”
He sighed, rubbing his hands over his temples again. Knowing that he could hear you, you was incensed that he was ignoring you again.
“Jungkook, don’t ignore me! I saw you then, staring at her like that! Was that flirting or something?”
Still, he was silent.
You grew enraged, sick of the constant silence. You were sick of being confused about this whole situation. You wanted answers, you wanted him to acknowledge that you were there and that he was listening. You wanted to wake up and throttle him.
You froze at the sound of his voice, saying your name in a way that it was obvious he was addressing you directly. Immediately, your body erupted into excitement, fingers beginning to tremble at the magnitude of the situation.
Jungkook was addressing you! Jungkook was finally saying something to you, not just speaking to your body that was lying in the hospital bed. Jungkook was talking to you!
“I- I don’t know why I can hear you… And I don’t think I want to know why. Just… Can you tell me, whatever you are, why- Why Y/N isn’t waking up?”
You were floored again.
You were silent, staring at him as he stared at your unresponsive face. He was silent too, chewing on his bottom lip, and you couldn’t think of a single thing to say back to him.
You had no idea why you weren’t waking up, and it was as frustrating to you as it must be for him.
“I… I don’t know.” He sighed at that, slumping back in his seat again.
“Then how can I be sure that it’s your voice I’m hearing, and not some weird mental problem happening in my brain?”
You were stumped again. He was throwing out the big questions today.
“I suppose I’d have to tell you something that only I know. That even you don’t know about me.”
“Are you suggesting there’s something I don’t know about Y/N? I’m her best friend, get lost.”
“I’m serious! Are you telling me that I know every single thing about you? There’s absolutely nothing I don’t know about you?”
He sighed, rubbing his temples again, muttering quietly to himself. You couldn’t quite pick up on what he was saying, but spoke again.
“So… You should go to my apartment, and- And in my wardrobe, on the right side at the bottom underneath all my shoes, there’s a box. You’ll be interested to see what’s in there.”
Jungkook couldn’t believe what he was doing. Was he seriously following orders from some phantom voice that happened to sound like you? Was his brain really trying to trick him like this?
Nevertheless, he was seated on the bus, right at the back with his earphones, the very same bus he took to your apartment when he couldn’t be bothered to walk to yours, or he had to get to yours quickly.
He hadn’t been to your apartment since the accident, and he was almost apprehensive. He was nervous to be surrounded by so much… You. He was nervous that if he checked the bottom of your wardrobe, he would find that box and would find something that he didn’t know about you.
That would mean that this “phantom voice” was actually you and your spirit or whatever had been following him around all this time.
Was that a good thing? Would he feel less lonely? Would he feel that you were still with him?
But if you weren’t… in your body, didn’t that mean that you weren’t going to survive? Were you already actually dead but your heart still beating?
Jungkook’s mind was buzzing with questions as he hopped off the bus and followed the same steps to your apartment that he had taken countless times before. He made it to the front door, clumping up the stairs as he had done millions of times before. Like the thousands of times before then, he reached up for the key on top of the doorframe. It had been there for so long that it had developed a blanket of dust, so thick it was like armour, and Jungkook had to wipe the thing on his jeans before he could cram it into the lock.
Opening the door, Jungkook was struck by how empty the apartment felt. Usually it was light, and warm, signs of life there. But the entire place was abandoned now, left to stand there, an empty husk of what it once was.
Of course all of your things were still there, but they were left untouched and unmoved from the months that you had been comatose. Everything seemed to be frozen in time, and he felt like an intruder, coming into somewhere that had once felt like a second home to him.
He moved quickly to your bedroom, not wanting to stay in this suffocating place for any longer than he needed to. He crossed the room to your wardrobe, noting that the bed was still unmade like you always left it and there was a book lying open on your bedside table, unfinished and abandoned. Some dirty laundry was still lying around the room, but Jungkook didn’t move it to the laundry basket in your bathroom as he may have done once upon a time.
He pulled the wardrobe door open, crouching down and shifting all of your shoes out of the way, his heart falling out of his chest at the sight of a relatively large cardboard box that he had never seen before. He pulled it out of its place, noting that you had painted it a teal colour and had painted ‘Jungkook and Y/N’ across the top in perfect calligraphy.
He lifted the lid gently, and tears immediately welled in his eyes at what he found.
Old photographs, little drawings, notes, ticket stubs, tiny gifts that he had given you from around the room, jewellery, stuffed toys, pebbles from the beaches you had been to together. Everything was all in here, all the small things collected from your entire friendship together, from childhood to where the two of you were now; him, sitting and crying on your bedroom floor, and you lying comatose in a hospital bed.
He sifted through everything for hours, sometimes laughing at a particularly fond memory (“Jungkook did you seriously buy me a stuffed crocodile toy?” “Listen, it’s soft but pointy. Like you, no?”) and crying at the more sentimental ones (“I know that you’ve been having a really shitty time recently with training, so I had a fight with Bang PD and now we have a whole day to do fun things. I’m taking you to the amusement park, let’s go!”)
Throughout the entire day, Jungkook sat on your floor, going through all of the memories of your friendship that you had preserved. Most of these Jungkook had forgotten about, but you had kept them and stored them like they were precious to you. And they were; they were the most important things in the world to you.
Wiping his eyes and carefully placing everything back inside the box, Jungkook sighed heavily before leaning against your bed.
“Y/N?” he tried tentatively, still feeling slightly dumb to be talking to seemingly nothing.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“C’mon, hyung! Surely you can do this last step, right?” Jungkook jeered, watching Suga sweat profusely, spewing endless amounts of swear words in the maknaes direction. Jungkook merely laughed, putting his hand back inside the bag of chips, bringing some up and shovelling them into his mouth.
“Y’know what, Jungkook,” Yoongi gasped, bracing himself on his knees. “You can go fuck yourself, you chipper brat.”
“Hyung, I wouldn’t let Jin hyung hear you say that.” Jungkook laughed lightly, sniggering when Yoongi flipped him the bird.
“I don’t give a shit what Jin says, I’m sweating into a puddle here,”
Jungkook stood carefully, wiping the crumbs off his jeans and coming to join the elder in the middle of the dance room.
“Seriously, it’s not that hard, watch me carefully-” Jungkook slowly performed the very last step that Yoongi kept stumbling on, explaining where Yoongi was going wrong and why he was overbalancing. “You’re putting too much weight on your right leg, and that’s causing you to sway and panic. Try to keep your weight balanced and you should be able to pull it off.”
“Brat.” Yoongi muttered before following the younger’s advice and slowly but surely managing it. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I was messing up on purpose to test your teaching skills.”
The two of them returned to the couch in the corner, Yoongi collapsing onto it and refusing to speak for a few moments until his lungs and throat weren’t so sore.
“Poor thing.” you said, and Jungkook hummed in agreement, laughing when the elder smacked him gently.
“What are you humming at?”
“Nothing! Why did you hit me?” he whined, dramatically grabbing at his arm and falling to the floor, pretending to faint.
“You’re an idiot,” Yoongi said, but not denying the smile that spread across his face at the youngers restored jubilance for life.
He had no idea what had happened to make Jungkook so happy again, when you were still trapped in the hospital, but he was glad. Yoongi hoped that whatever was working continued to happen.
Strangely, for some reason, Yoongi figured it had something to do with what Jungkook had told him about being able to hear you, but he didn’t voice these thoughts to anybody. Not even Jungkook.
Not even to himself.
“Why are you so happy suddenly? Even Tae can barely keep up with your sudden burst of energy.”
Jungkook smiled, leaning back on his hands with his legs extended in front of him. He rocked his right foot from side to side, watching the movement with a tender expression that Yoongi rarely ever saw on his face.
“I dunno,” the younger said, obviously knowing very well why his happiness was restored. “I think it was just the realisation that everything is going to be okay in the end.”
Yoongi couldn’t argue with that at all, and only smiled at the younger who returned the gesture with his own blinding grin.
Of course though, everything came crashing down with Jimin sprinting into the practise room with Jungkook’s phone being crushed in his grip and tears falling down his face.
“Jungkook- Y/N- You should go- Something’s happened- Go!”
Yoongi was up in a flash, bringing the younger with him as he stared at Jimin with his huge doe eyes, feet stumbling over each other and looking around in a daze.
What was this about you? Something happening? What was going on?
Suddenly, his body took charge and he was hurtling out of the practise room in some kind of sick moment of déjà vu of the last time he had run out of the room with such intent.
don't mind me asking but could you tell me how do you colour eyewitness? or could you share your psd?
Hi! I thought I would make you a tutorial because everyone knows eyewitness is a pain in the ass to color. It’s very shadow-y and washed out with not a lot of color so I thought I would demonstrate how I do this:
Summary: When Dan was born, they knew he was different. Born
into this world, but without emotion, he always felt different. Now,
grown up and a master of magic and potions, he has made life in his
little town and has been content. That is, until the day he comes across
a potion that has a promise of making him finally feel. (Wizard AU)
Based on the prompt by @writing-prompt-s: You are born without emotions; to compensate
this, you started a donation box where people could donate their
unwanted emotions. You’ve lived a life filled with sadness, fear and
regret until one day, someone donates happiness.
A/N: This is just a little inspired by the Burberry ad, the fact I gotta prepare a Jane Austen lecture for year 9s and a
little inspired by the fact I’ve been binge-watching Anne of Green Gables, and
I’ve always wanted to write for my favourite Weasley General. Can you
tell I’ve been binge watching Anne of Green Gables? Ya know, because I’m gonna
die alone COVERED IN CAT PISS IT’S HONESTLY FINE. Also, please, please send through some requests, I would really love some :)
Title: Logic Tags: Anne of Green Gables inspired, childhood friends Rating: T (i mean I swear a bit but like…) Words: 2800+ Prompt List:here Master List:here
It was common knowledge to the first families of Arkanis that they
1) A dwindling number. Many married off-planet
and the unfortunately irreversible laws of primogeniture-based titles left the clever
daughters without their rightful inheritances. Many movements of parliament had attempted to repeal the legislation, however there were always obstacles that the women of Arkanis hoped would die of a heart attack sooner rather than later.
2) Bastard sons were so large common that they
were -more often than not-recognised as heirs.
3) Every marriage on Arkanis is chosen.
Now that third piece of knowledge was certainly uncommon practise for
aristocratic families of the inner-rim planets. Royal families of Naboo, Mandalore
and even Alderaan, often resorted to arrangements created by parents via
misinterpreted holomessages and Jedi negotiations of peace. Yet these
arrangements were often loveless, careless and while it did provide the
inner-rim planets the political power they required; what was the logic in that
for an upstart outer-rim planet like Arkanis?
Arkanis was after all, a military planet and nowhere near as ancient as
the inner-rim worlds. They prided themselves on their decorum and their
modernity. The first families of Arkanis were the families of Admirals and
Commadants and Generals and Colonels. Those who gained power as the Empire came
into fruition and those who skilfully navigated the minefield of politics
during that time.
Power on Arkanis, was to be gained by might -war and intellect-
not through something as private and delicate as the tempestuous state of marriage.
The man’s voice was distant but you detected sadness and worry in his tone. Not able to open your eyes yet, you concentrated on the feeling of fingers running through your hair and the heavy aching feeling in your body. You recognized his voice at least; Wonho, the gorgeous guy you met not so long ago. The last thing you could remember was running with Wonho down a tunnel, hearing loud gun shots and feeling terrified for your life.
‘Am I dead?’
You thought to yourself before trying to open your eyes. The first thing you noticed was that you had absolutely no clue where you were. It was a plain camel brown room with a few pictures of himself and what could have been his friends on the walls, a floor length mirror, a simple wooden dressing table and some book shelves. Laying on an unfamiliar bed, you were feeling groggy; hoping to god you weren’t being held captive.
“Oh thank god you’re awake!”
Wonho cried in relief. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with red rimmed eyes like he’d been crying. As you opened your mouth to speak, you noticed the lack of moisture in your mouth, making your throat feel like a desert.
“I need some water.”
You croaked, slowly sitting up on the bed. Instantly, Wonho jumped up and ran to get you some. Shortly, he returned with a pint glass of water in his hand and a sorry expression on his face. The cold water felt like heaven as it trickled down your throat, helping you get your voice back.
You asked, needing an explanation to stop you from feeling like you were going insane. Wonho sighed deeply, his head falling in to his hands in a sense of despair.
“You fainted when we were running away. I picked you up and carried you here, to my place. We’re on the other side of the wall now…”
Nodding your head slowly, it all seemed to be coming back to you. Suddenly, he grabbed your hands, his puppy dog eyes tearing up before droplets began to fall from his eyes.
“I’m so sorry (Y/N). I should have fucking left you alone. I’ve put you in so much danger and now you can’t go back home because they’re waiting for us to try and sneak back in and I can’t let you get hurt, I just can’t!”
Wonho balled, feeling immensely guilty for the situation he had put you in but for some reason, you didn’t really care about not being able to go home, all you cared about was making Wonho happy again. It felt like a stab to your heart to see him cry. Although you didn’t know what your status was like with Wonho, you couldn’t resist throwing your arms around him.
“Hey now, don’t be upset. It’s okay, honestly, it’s okay.”
You uttered softly, running your hand up and down his back to try and calm him.
“I’ll figure out a way to get you home I promise! I won’t let you get hurt!”
You let out a little smile with the way he was so insistent on not letting you get hurt.
“I know, I know. Please don’t cry Wonho. I have nothing waiting for me at home anyway.”
Wonho wiped away his tears with his sleeve and nodded his head.
“Sorry. I just feel…protective over you. When you fainted…I could have had a heart attack. Damn, if anything happened to you I don’t know what I’d do.”
After a few sweet moments of hugging him, he finally put on a brave face, looking at you with such warmth and care. You noticed how you might be starting to smell in the clothes you’d been wearing for almost two days, your hands trying to smooth out the creases of your shirt so you didn’t look ugly to him.
“Oh yeah, we’ll probably need to get you some more clothes and some essentials. I’ve never lived alone before, I only have one tooth brush.”
Wonho smiled widely, his eyes twinkling. You hadn’t thought of it as living together but you certainly didn’t dislike the idea. Being cute and attentive, he wrote down your clothes size and all the things you’d need to stay with him. Bringing up feminine hygiene products definitely wasn’t easy. Both of your cheeks blushed bright red and they blushed even more when he had to ask for your bra size. When he left to go to the store, you fell back on the soft bed, sprawling out and stretching your limbs, thinking about the idea of living with a guy; it wasn’t something you were used to either. Although you were worried and scared about how or if you were ever going to return home, the prospect of living with Wonho was exciting, new and fresh. Through the danger, you hoped there were great times to come.
That evening, you were sitting downstairs with Wonho, watching a comedy on the small TV that he had. Wonho didn’t have a lot but you noticed that what he did have, he didn’t mind sharing with you at all. The clothes he had bought you were basic and all neutral colours like grey, black and nude. He explained that he was afraid to buy you colourful things in case it brought more attention to you. However, he did buy you something colourful which you were confused about. It was a blonde wig with a hot pink ombre.
“Wear this if you ever need to go outside. A lot of people have different hair colours here. It’s the only way we can really express ourselves.”
He instructed. It explained the colourful hair he rocked so well. Suddenly, Wonho’s front door swung open and you heard loud, enthusiastic voices. You grabbed on to Wonho’s arm, expecting the worst when he chuckled at you.
“Relax, they’re my friends.”
He eased your worry and soon enough, Jooheon, Minhyuk, I.M, Hyungwon, Kihyun and Shownu were introducing themselves to you and shaking your hand. The guys were so fun and bursting with energy, it was infectious. You couldn’t help but giggle around them; you understood why Wonho liked them so much.
“Damn boy, you said she was beautiful but you didn’t say she was this beautiful!”
Jooheon said to Wonho, making Wonho playfully hit him in the stomach.
“Yah! Don’t embarrass me, you’re supposed to be my friend!”
Wonho replied, pouting with his plump, soft lips.
‘Does Wonho really think I’m beautiful?’
You thought, hoping it was true. The way Wonho seemed so embarrassed hinted that he really did tell his friends you were beautiful. Wonho’s friends visiting really did seem to cheer him up. His smile and the sound of his laughter gave you a great sense of relief and it calmed you from the stressful couple of days you’d had.
“But Wonho! I’m not tired!”
You whined as he set up an air mattress on the floor in his room to sleep in, giving the bed to you. He told you that he wanted to be near you at all times in case something happened during the night.
“But I’m very tired so go to sleep. You need to rest.”
He replied. You could see the sleepiness in his eyes. He looked so cute when he was tired.
“But Wonho! Can’t we stay awake for just a…”
You were stopped by Wonho placing his finger softly upon your lips. Though he was tired, he still gazed so deep in to your eyes with the same sparkle he always had. Your heart began to race, adrenaline pumping through your body as his lips started to move closer to yours. Parting your lips, you prepared them for the kiss you thought you were going to get. You wanted to throw your arms around him and his him so hard your lips would get sore but as his lips got closer and his gaze got more seductive, he changed his mind and placed a sweet, long kiss on your forehead.
Request: Safari is the internet lol and YESS you should do a lucifer fluffy/smut one shot where your like another angel archangel to be exact and your lucifer’s mate/wife and Chloe meets you for the first time and your like lucifer but more kind and sweet and you love kids and that and Chloe is really surprised and you’ve been teasing lucifer all day and when you get back to lucifer’s apartment he can’t take the teasing anymore and it leads to very steamy smut in the end and it’s the lucifer from fox lol - @icharleecongreve
“Hey where are you going?” You
asked Lucifer as you saw his naked butt waddling away from the bed. He turned
and smiled at you. “I need to meet Chloe about a case. Want to come by?” He
asked as he put his underwear back on. “Sure. Let me get a quick shower. Want
to join?” You teased. He rolled his eyes and smirked.
“It wouldn’t kill me to join.” As
he paced forward you closed the door and let out a laugh. “You little devil.”
The irony made you laugh harder as you were an archangel. Your father was furious
but you made up your mind and marry the devil himself. He was kind to you not
like people described him; vicious, merciless and ugly. He was quite handsome
and sure he’s a devil in the bed.
You got out of the shower and
walked down to the kitchen and saw Lucifer drinking some scotch. Tea wasn’t his
thing. “You ready?” He asked. You put on your black leather jacket and tied
your shoe laces. “Only when you are.” You winked and he swallowed hard.
“Tease.” He walked past you and got out to his car. You both got in the car and
drove to Chloe’s place. “Now I warn you, there is this little demon.” He said
in a terrified voice.
“Don’t worry. I married one.”
Your hand landed on his knee and slowly slid it up his thigh. He let out a
heavy breath. “You’re playing with fire Y/N.” His voice trembled as he parked
the car. You smirked and let out a light chuckle. Lucifer knocked on the door
and a lady answered it. “Hi Lucifer.” She made way for us to go in. as we went
in, a small girl ran over to Lucifer and hugged his legs. “Lucifer!” She
squealed. Lucifer tried to shake her off but she held on tight. She began
laughing until her mother pulled her away. “HI I’m Chloe.” She shook your hand.
“I’m Y/N, Lucifer’s wife.” She had a surprised look on her face. “This
is my daughter, Trixie.”
“Hi.” She hid behind her mother and waved.
“Hello sweetie.” You smiled. She got out from behind her mother’s
figure and walked towards you. “I like your eyes, they’re beautiful.” You felt
yourself blush a bit, even though she’s just a child. “Want to see my dolls?”
“I’d love to.” She took you by
the hand and pulled you to her room. You looked back at Lucifer and smiled.
“I didn’t know Lucifer was
married. I thought he was going to be a loner all his life.” You laughed at
Trixie’s comment. You sat down on her bed as she handed you her dolls. “So how
long have you and Lucifer been married?” She asked as she waddled her way to
the bed. “I bet you looked very pretty in your white dress.”
“Thank you Trixie. Well tomorrow
will be our 3 year anniversary.” Her eyes widened. Lucifer called you from the
kitchen. “You go, I have to do something.” Trixie said as she grabbed a piece
of paper and some colours.
“Hey, what’s up?” You asked.
Chloe opened her file and a butt load of papers flew out of it. She grabbed one
of them and showed it to me. “We need your help finding this man. He is accused
of murder, theft and abuse. Can you help us please?” She asked politely. You
nodded. “Great, so tomorrow at 7:30 am.”
As you were about to leave with
Lucifer, Trixie ran over to you. “Y/N! I made this for you.” She handed you a
paper with a drawing on it. It had Lucifer who had horns and a tail and there were
you with a pair of white wings and a halo. You smiled and showed it Lucifer. You
opened the paper and on it was scribbled ‘Happy anniversary’. You felt your
heart melt. “Thank you so much Trixie.” You gave her a hug. “Let me guess? I’m
the one with the horns?” Lucifer chuckled.
You plopped down on the bed in
your bra and underwear. You looked at Lucifer who was getting out of the
bathroom. You removed the sheets off of you and smirked. “Lucy.” You sang his
name. He laid next to you, naked. Your hand cascaded down his clavicle and his
toned chest. You straddled him and slowly grinded on him. “Too bad you don’t
have that tail. You could do some tricks with it.” You sucked on his neck as he
let out a groan. He quickly switched places and looked you in the eyes. “You’ve
been teasing me all day. Now it’s time that I have some fun.” You underwear
disappeared and Lucifer sank between your legs. His tongue glided up and down
your wet core. You let out a moan and you felt you stomach clench at the
feeling. His tongue found your clit and he licked it and grabbed it between his
teeth while two fingers slid inside you. “Don’t you dare come!” He said between
his clenched teeth.
You let out a wanton moan as he
moved his fingers in and out of you; you threw your head back in ecstasy and
closed your eyes shut. “I can’t!” You groaned as your hands found his hair and
pulled on it sending him groaning and moaning. You clenched hard around his
fingers but he quickly backed off and slid inside you. “This is your punishment
my little angel.” He started out with slow thrusts. His thrusts got sloppier
and faster, increasing the friction between you and you orgasm grew stronger. Your
skins slapped against each other and your breaths got heavier. He got rid of
your bra and he sucked on you breasts. “Lucifer!” You moaned out loudly.
He looked at you and put on his devilish
smirk and red eyes. “Come baby.” Your body trembled as your orgasm shook your
body hard. Lucifer soon followed as he shot his seed inside you. He held you
tightly as you scratched his back as your orgasm slowly faded away. “My devil.”
Summary: All it took was one look. One look and nothing else mattered. The city lights and bustle of a single night in Hong Kong disappeared around you. Smut.
(AN: wanted to try out a different style here. it’s actually very different. kinda short compared to what i normally write and idek. cheesy title too. just suit hoshi and delayed mama feels and eternal no f.u.n feels. also those gifs. also don’t be an idiot like the people in this piece of fiction and have unprotected sex. also smut warning. lemme know what you think? -Tanisha<3)
A dark night sky, distinctly void of stars because of the city lights
glaring up at it. The bustle of cars and trains and pedestrians showing that
nightfall did not signify a period of rest. Hong Kong seemed busier than ever
on this night, filled with the best and brightest of the industry’s k-pop stars
and spectators, all gathered for the Mnet Asian Music Awards.
The sun was shining on the white marble tiles, only trees giving it slight protection. If you didn’t know better you’d think you were staying at the royal palace or something; corintic tall pillars surrounding the whole place and with paintings gracing the walls inside you could see only if you pass the big tall doors, “Mr. Do,” you called him.
*snicker*. I had the sudden mental image of Chancellor Kenobi putting one of 'Qui-Gon's' potted plants to his office and staring very sternly at anyone who questions it. The rumor mill promptly goes crazy trying to figure out what's so special about this seemingly innocuous plant - Obi-Wan face-palms at some of the more wild speculation.
Not quite what you talked about, but close enough, amirite? I just thought Obi-Wan deserves something nice, lol.
It’s very common—tradition almost—for the Supreme Chancellor to accept gifts from Senators who wish to show their appreciation. It’s not meant to gain the Senators any favours—officially, at any rate.
Former Chancellor Palpatine was easy to please. The man had a taste for old artefacts with history tied to them—especially if there were rumours of Sith or Jedi in said history. If one did not have something like that, anything expensive in gold would do superbly.
Most of all What I desire Is absolution And one more try To make things right.
It was a sunless day. Not one moment did it appear, nor did it feign much effort, though if it did it would have been unnoticed by those beneath the low, squashing ceiling of clouds. The river breathed hot and steady, creating a steam against the clouds so it seemed as if there was no clear designation between both areas. The streets whistled every few hours with steam seeping through cracks and holes. It was too early to call it such, but even in their denial, the city understood that with the night of the first dusting, the first insignificant amount of snow, came winter.
warnings: negative thoughts, infertility, a/o sex, sexxx… i think that’s it tbh, message me if i missed anything
word count: 3,503 (loVE ME)
A/N: Yo, hope you like it :) (also i may continue this so pleasedo tell me if you want a part two)
When Dan Howell was in year 7 of school he had been taught that one of the sole purposes of omegas was to carry and birth their alpha’s children. That was no shock to him - of course it wasn’t - he’d seen it everywhere. Omegas with litters of children, sometimes nine or ten. His mother had had six children and was pregnant with another when his father had expressed his desire for another one. He knew that his purpose was to carry Phil’s children, to raise them, to give him as many as he desires. Maybe that was why he felt like a failure.
This one made me sad to write, I’m not going to lie about that. Poor Jiyong.
Is this what heartbreak feels like?
Jiyong sighed, eyes tracing the patterns of the wallpaper for the millionth time. As many times as he had scanned it, nothing had changed - it was still the same, dull beige colour. Food still tasted the same, the world still revolved the same direction, everybody lived on.
So why couldn’t he?
He could have sworn that he hated you. He had said it enough times, to both the people around you and directly to your face. He had made you cry and he had made you angry. So, why were his thoughts only on you?
The whole room was silent. Everybody, apart from Jiyong, was dressed in full black. His members were sat in a small huddle, not even looking at each other. Even Youngbae’s eyes seemed slightly wetter than usual, although Jiyong couldn’t fathom why. They had all said to him that they didn’t like you either, so why were they upset?
Jiyong wasn’t sat with anybody, not his members, or the workers that did so much to make the music videos as good as they were. He was on his own, leant against the wall at the back of the room, staring at the picture of you on the screen at the front of the room. You were nothing special to look at, that was for sure. When he had first worked with your crew, you had blended so effortlessly into the background. He didn’t notice you for the first few weeks at all. You weren’t ugly, but you certainly weren’t beautiful either. You were completely average throughout your entire life. So why did he feel like a piece of his heart was missing?
He was G-Dragon. He had worked with thousands of people, had entire crews working on him and him alone. Not one of them stood out to him. So why was he staring at the picture of you with tears in his eyes? Why did it feel like his chest was caving in? Why did it feel like his heart had been forcefully removed and crushed?
“Jiyong.” a hoarse voice said to the left and they cleared their throat, trying again “Jiyong.”
Jiyong turned his head slowly to look at Daesung whose eyes were red-rimmed. “We have to go. Make sure that you thank everybody for the hard work they put in.”
Jiyong nodded absentmindedly. Right, he had to go. He had to fly back to Korea, where he lived. Right…
Daesung shuffled awkwardly before leaving the room, leaving Jiyong alone with the crew. Some of them were crying, making Jiyong slightly uncomfortable, but the rest were merely looking sombre. He couldn’t blame them, really - you had worked with them for years and suddenly, you were gone. He knew that he would have cried too, had he liked you at all.
But he didn’t, he knew he didn’t. So what was this weird, empty feeling? Perhaps was it because he had become accustomed to the feeling of your hand resting on his cheekbone as you drew his eyeliner on so precisely? Or the way you would hold his head in your hand as you titled it so you could get an specific area of his face better? Or was it the way your fingers felt as they raked through his hair to achieve the perfect, messy look? Jiyong didn’t know why or what is was about you that he missed but he didn’t like the feeling. He wanted you to come back, just for a few moments, so he could say goodbye for the last time.
Maybe that’s why he was hurting so much. He didn’t get to say goodbye to you at all and now he never would again.
The picture of you on the screen at the front changed suddenly, to another one of you. His stomach jolted as he realised it was a picture of you working on him. Your left hand was resting just under his jaw and you were holding a brush coated in eyeliner in your right, painting right over his eye. Jiyong remembered being so stubborn that he refused to close his eyes during that, but you had merely worked around him and done an amazing job despite him being difficult.
Jiyong’s throat suddenly felt tight, so he thanked all of the crew quickly, leaving the room. To exit the building, he was meant to turn left and head towards the door at the end of the hallway, but he automatically turned right without really thinking. He walked exactly twenty three paces before coming to an unmarked door which was almost agonizingly familiar.
He opened the door slowly, switching the light on and walking in, eyes scanning the entire room. Nothing had changed from when you had both left it the day before, except there was a piece of paper on the table. Other than that, nothing was different. He almost expected you to come running through the door, apologising hurriedly that you were late and pushing him into the chair, beginning to add hundreds of different products to his face. But you didn’t.
He walked slowly around the room, grazing his fingers over almost everything, pausing at the small array of pictures you had pinned to a corkboard. Some of them were of your friends and family, there were a few of his face before and after makeup was complete, but there was only one of you. It looked like something taken on a polaroid and it was, again, taken by somebody else. You were grinning at the camera, eyes filled with joy. Your hair was long around your face, with a single flower hair clip in it, but still Jiyong smiled at it sadly. Suddenly it made its way from the corkboard to his front pocket. Nobody would notice.
He continued on his adventure around your room, stopping at things that had slight sentimental value and smiling at the memories. He finally finished his round of the room and sat down heavily in the chair he had sat in countless times before. He could almost feel you bustling around him, making small adjustments to his makeup here and there, He would always watch you working in the mirror, just so that he had something to look at. He wished that he had appreciated it back then. That he could really look at you instead of just see you. If he had known, he would have made sure to have made more of an effort with you.
If he had known…
His eyes fell on the piece of paper on the table again and his curiosity was piqued. He stood up and picked the paper up, reading it quickly.
“Jiyong, I’m going to apologise in advance if I’m late again! But can you please jump in the shower and give your hair a quick shampoo? I need to make it fluffier this time. I’m really sorry if you’ve already washed your hair today! If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I’m sure I can make it work :) -Y/N”
He smiled again, examining your writing. He liked the little flicks in your writing here and there, the way that everything was so neat and perfect. The letter found its way to his front pocket too.
He scanned the room again, resting his hand on the door handle. His eyes landed on a small bracelet on the dressing table and he basically ran to it, picking it up quickly, thinking back to all the times he had seen you wear it. In fact, when had he not seen you wear it? You wore it every single day, without fail. So why weren’t you wearing it now? Why had you taken it off?
It was a basic thing, just a thick strip of leather with her star sign constellation cut into it. He only knew that because he had asked her once, out of boredom. He had originally thought that the bracelet was ugly and he had told you so, but now, as he was holding it in his hands, he didn’t think he had ever held anything so precious. He slipped the bracelet around his right wrist, the wrist you always wore it on, and smiled.
How could he have successfully tricked himself into thinking he didn’t like you? Well, he was certainly right. He didn’t like you. He loved you.
And you were dead.
His lip trembled at the thought and tears escaped his eyes, making him rub them furiously. This is stupid, he thought. She’s just a makeup artist, move on and get a fucking grip.
He couldn’t even go to your funeral. He couldn’t say goodbye properly. He couldn’t sit with your friends and family and he couldn’t tell them all the wonderful things you had created and all the brilliant things you had ever said to him. He couldn’t tell anybody how much you made him want to get to work early or how much the looked forward to seeing what kind of thing you would do to him that day. He couldn’t tell anyone that strange little flutter that his guts did every time you smiled, or the crushing agony whenever you teared up slightly at a particularly mean comment from him. He couldn’t tell anybody how much you meant to him, because they wouldn’t understand.
“Goodbye.” he said to the empty room, half expecting a reply. He didn’t get one, of course. You were gone. You were really gone and he didn’t get to say goodbye.