wrinkled face

  • YouTube animator: Hmm. You know what. This cratoon of mine isn't very funny
  • YouTube animator: [draws millions of wrinkles on everyone's faces during every joke]
  • YouTube animator: That's better
Soon, you will have wrinkles on your face with grey hair and a hand that is not mine, for you to hold. By then, you will probably forget the look on my face when I first met you, and the smile I wore whenever I had the chance to see you. Perhaps by then, my name is all you can remember, and I will be alright with that. At least, you still remember one thing about me, even if it happens to be almost nothing.
—  Lukas W. // Almost nothing
5

App…

ifeelbetterer  asked:

Gotg prompt: how did Rocket learn to speak Groot?

“Repeat after me, Quill: I am Groot.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said dutifully. He felt like an idiot, but there were only a limited number of ways to while away quiet nights on the ship when neither of them could sleep. If it was him and Gamora, or him and Drax, they could spar, but he’d only tried sparring with Rocket once. It took weeks for the bite marks to heal.

Rocket’s oddly expressive – for a raccoon – face wrinkled in an expression of disgust. “Do you even hear yourself? That is nothing like what I just said.”

“Dude, that is exactly what you just said.”

“No, I said ‘I am Groot’ and you said ‘I am Groot’.”

“Which is … the same?”

Rocket stared at him for a long moment, then pointed at his snout. “Read my lips: I am Groot.”

“Was I supposed to repeat that, or …”

Rocket showed some teeth. Peter shut up. There was a moment of silence and Peter was just about to put his earbuds back in and quit with the language lessons when Rocket said suddenly, “Quill, if I say, 'I am Groot,’ just like that, what do you hear?”

“Is this a trick question? Especially the kind of trick question that’s gonna end in you pissing on my bed?”

“That was only once, and you had it coming –”

“Rocket –”

“No, for the love o’ cheese, it’s not a trick question. Just say 'I am Groot’.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said. “I feel like a complete jackass right now, in case that was your intent – hey, where are you going?”

“Jus’ need to get a thing!” Rocket’s voice trailed behind him.

Peter flopped back down in the chair in the mess and put his earbuds in. He was actually getting sleepy, and considering going back to bed, when Rocket jumped up onto the table in front of him with something clutched in his paws.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, sitting up. He palmed off the Zune and took off the earpieces. He had to hand it to Earth tech: the new music player was a lot more convenient to carry around than his late, lamented Walkman.

Rocket’s device was a thin, flat screen about the size of a hardback book; he had it clutched with a paw on each side while readouts rippled quickly across it.

“Okay, now say 'I am Groot’,” Rocket declared, studying the screen.

“Come on, man, do we really have to go through this again?”

“Humor me.”

Peter sighed and slouched in his chair. “I am Groot.”

Rocket’s ears pricked forward. “I am Groot,” he said, and tapped the display with his paw, causing the tiny, scrolling lines and numbers to freeze. “Did that sound the same to you?”

“Well … yeah?”

The flat pads of Rocket’s fingers danced across the display, and he laid the screen on the table between them. “Know what you’re lookin’ at?”

“Squiggly lines,” Peter said automatically.

“Did your mama drop you on the head a lot as a baby, Quill?”

“No, but Yondu did occasionally.” Peter rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. As much fun as it was to mess with Rocket, he did actually think he knew what the raccoon was getting at. “That wiggly line is some kind of … uh … noise – wiggle – curve, right?”

“That’s real precise.”

“I was abducted from Earth before we got to algebra in school. Cut me some slack here.”

“Excuses, excuses. I was raised in a cage and my mother had an IQ of 3.” Rocket touched the display, zooming in on it. “Point is, I don’t think it’s just that all a’ you two-legged bunch is too obtuse to understand perfectly clear speech –”

“Thanks.”

“– like I used to think. It’s more like, my ears hear at higher and lower frequencies than yours do, so I get different overtones. Put simply for the simple, I can hear things you can’t.”

Peter leaned forward, intrigued. “So, wait – you mean all this time, all his 'I am Groot’s sound different to you?”

He realized what he’d said as soon as the words left his mouth, and got the flat 'I am dealing with morons’ look from Rocket that he’d instantly realized he had coming. “How am I supposed to understand him if they don’t, Quill, I ask you?”

“Okay – point – but … so why does it sound like 'I am Groot’ to the rest of us?”

“It sounds like 'I am Groot’ to me too.” When Peter glowered at him, Rocket held up a paw. “No, I ain’t messin’ with ya. This time. No, that’s what the translation unit picks up, 'cause it ain’t so smart about some of the less humanoid languages. It’s just, I hear it like …” He hesitated and waggled his paw. “It’s like your music, right? All those up and down tones at the same time. Groot can do that. Your throat, my throat, can’t.”

“Singing?” Peter said after a minute. “Groot’s singing?”

“I refer you back to the part about bein’ dropped on your head.” Rocket pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle, making Peter jump – there was still some part of him that couldn’t quite hear whistling and not expect a death arrow to follow an instant later. And he might not be the only one, because Rocket stopped abruptly, closed his mouth, and then said, “Quill, do this,” and hummed softly.

It wasn’t really a tune. “You just want me to hum?” Peter asked. “Like, generic humming?”

Rocket curled his lip and the hum became more of a snarl.

“Right, humming,” Peter said hastily.

The funny thing was, the instant his soft hum of response hit the right harmonics with the note Rocket was humming (and the raccoon did have a good sense of pitch; Peter had always suspected so) he understood exactly what Rocket was getting at.

“Ohhhhh. When Groot talks, it’s like a symphony. Is that what you mean? And the 'I am Groot’ part is the part in the human audible range.”

Rocket’s ears and tail went up cheerfully. “Yeah, ezzactly. He’s tryin’ to communicate, it’s just he didn’t get any farther than 'I am Groot’ when he was learning. It’s as hard for him to do the talkin’ part for the translators as it is for you and me to do his kind of talk. He can hear us just fine, though. Actually to him, understanding our talk is dead easy.”

“So how do we understand him?” Peter asked. “Can you, I dunno, juice up the translator so it picks up a higher range of frequencies, or something?”

“I dunno. That’s not a bad idea.” Rocket tapped his claw against his teeth before picking up the screen thing and hopping off the table. “Have to think on it. Don’t wanna explode your heads or anything.”

“Yeah, well, on that lovely note, I’m goin’ to bed.” He actually was tired enough now to fall asleep in spite of the inevitable nightmares (the bitter cold and darkness of space; Ego’s face dissolving in his hands; his friends crushed by rocks or blown apart). The music helped as it always had, a melodic bulwark against the dark, wrapped gently around his heart – but it could only do so much.

Rocket grunted absently as he trotted off, already engrossed in figuring out the problem.

The thought occurred to Peter as he wandered back to his quarters, thumbing idly through the songs on the Zune, that these sorts of mechanical puzzles served the same purpose for Rocket as his music did for him: something to make his mind go quiet.

The music did that … and so did letting Gamora beat the stuffing out of him in the ship’s small exercise area. Or getting language lessons from Rocket. Or –

“I am Groot?”

Peter jumped as small hands grabbed hold of his pants leg. Groot shimmied quickly up to perch on his shoulder.

“Hey, little buddy.” Peter opened the door to his quarters and left it open so Groot could come and go as he wanted. Or so he could hear if anybody got into a fight or whatever. He flopped wearily on his unmade bed, careful not to dislodge Groot. “You know, I’m not sure how much of this you can understand right now, but Rocket’s teaching me to speak your language.”

“I am Groot?”

“Well, to understand you more than speak it, I guess I should say.” He was lying on his back now and he couldn’t really see Groot except out of the corner of his eye, but he could feel the little tree shifting around in the hollow where the collar of his sweatshirt rested against his neck.

“I am Groot,” Groot said insistently, almost in his ear. Small hands patted at the side of his face and his earlobe.

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter pinched one earbud between two fingers and held it where Groot could get at it. The little hands took it out of his fingers. Peter settled himself comfortably as Groot squirmed somewhat ticklishly against his neck, and sorted through the songs. “How 'bout Elton John tonight, buddy?”

“I am Groot,” came the sleepy answer.

“You know, little guy,” Peter murmured, as the first strains of the music began to play and Groot snuggled comfortably against his neck, “whether or not Rocket can get his new gadget working, I think we understand each other just fine, don’t we?”

“I am Groot!”

Title: Armor Crafted by My Own Hand

Pairing: Prince Sidon / Link

Rating: General 

Tags: biting, kissing, fluff, confession scene, fish person loving a blondie, sweetness with a bit of bite

Summary: On a rainy, cold day, Sidon confesses his love to Link

Continue reading here or check out on AO3! Comments, reblogs, and kudos are much appreciated!

-

Lounging atop one of the watchtowers that sat at the end of the Inogo Bridge, Sidon gazed glumly at the rocky path that led away from the bridge and up into the mountains. Overhead, the sky was as grey as his mood. From that veil of grey, a heavy rain fell, turning the world into a blurred wash of blues and greens. The air was chilly but nothing his thick skin couldn’t handle. Though to anyone without tough Zora skin, it was a probably bundle yourself up and stay inside kind of temperature.

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Life is a bloody battle between your mind and your body; Sometimes a life long war.

Two entities contradicting one another, a struggle of profound passion,

Your heart caught in the crossfire.

Your mind endeavouring to convince you that your body is unloveable, undesirable, unworthy.

Your mind is not rotten it has simply been poisoned by a world of people who profit off of your ability to find beauty in them but not within yourself.

Through the struggle-some process of learning how to love yourself,

You must remember the way your body fought for you even whilst you tried to destroy it.

The way your heart continued to beat even when you wished deeply that it wouldn’t.

The way your skin covered your bones like a blanket when you wished it would simply disappear.

The way your body acted as a shell, protecting your mind, your heart and your soul while you singlehandedly tried to break it.

Let the scars that you bare serve as a medal; you have overcome the struggle to self destruct.

The wrinkles on your face a reminder that you have endured years of this battle and yet here you stand.

There will come a time that you will realize you are on the same team, an armistice proclaimed; a total ceasefire.

You will listen to your heart beating within the walls of your chest,

You will realize that it is the anthem of your existence,

You will take a deep breath and sing along to it.

There is nothing more natural on this earth than a human being, simply… being.

—  indieluhv 
Rowaelin’s daughter x Feysand’s son fic Part III

Thank you guys for loving my hc’s just as much as I do! I’ve listened to you guys say you want a fic, so instead of hc’s I’ve taken the dot points out so it flows better. We’re about 3/5 of the way through!

Check out Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V.

Seraphine

This is the most ugliest creature she has ever seen, Seraphine thought. She glances at Fen beside her, wincing at the sharp pain caused from the movement of her shoulder. Her wolf was growling at the creature in front of them. It was feakishly tall, wearing a dark, ragged, old cloak, it’s face wrinkled like a prune.
Taking note of the creatures’ eyes, like deep, deep pits of nothing, Seraphine couldn’t help but wonder who this creature is.
The air feels static until it answers out loud for her.
“The Suriel,” it says.
Seraphine tried to hide her surprise, tried to hide the fact that she had no weapons, not even a pathetic stick to defend herself—besides Fen who was already injured himself.
“Are you the one who brought me here?” she asks the Suriel boldly, because there was no other way to face a creature weaponless and injured.
The Suriel raises it’s eyebrows like it knows Seraphine’s secrets—she shivers at the thought of a creature like the one in front of her knowing her deepest secrets.
“I meant here,” she clears her dry throat and gestures at the camp. “Did you save me?”
The Suriel gives her a simple shake of it’s head.
“You and I are more alike than you think, Seraphine. Funny, what fate can do.” He gives her the most devilish smile. “Find the ancient one. She can—” The Suriel suddenly stops, and sniffs the air. “I have to go, your m—”
A dagger was now pressed against the Suriel’s throat from behind.
Seraphine recognised that dark hair, those midnight blue eyes staring right at her—through her, into her soul.

Kastiel

“Before you leave, old friend,” Kastiel whispers into the Suriel’s ear, “I’ll make you a bargain.”
Kastiel’s eyes are still on the girl, she was so thin, so pale and helpless, that he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to help her. Why is there such a feeling in his heart—the need to protect someone he has even yet to talk to?
“Make no mistake,” the Suriel replied back. “I am only a relative of the Suriel your mother knew—and maybe I’m not as friendly.”
Kastiel takes his eyes off the girl and turns toward the Suriel. He had no time for games. “I’ll give you the ruby, in exchange for healing the girl fully—no tricks.
Ignoring the girl’s sharp intake of breath, her mortal heart beating faster and louder in his fae ears, Kastiel awaits for the Suriel’s reply.
“Fen too,” the girl suddenly blurts out, gesturing to her wolf. “I want him healed,” she says, adding a quiet please that made Kastiel’s heart squeeze. Her voice sounded awful. Kastiel hadn’t even talked to his team about the possibilities of returning without the ruby, but whatever their punishment was, he wouldn’t allow it to happen—he was willing to take all the blame for this, so long as he helps the girl now.
“And what, Prince of the Night, would I do with a ruby that big? Where would I even put it?” the Suriel asks. “In my pockets?” he gestures at his tattered, old cloak, shrugging.
Kastiel didn’t care what the Suriel wanted at this point. There was nothing in this world that he owned that was more worth it than the girls’ back, patched up and healed.
The Suriel shares a knowing look with Kastiel, his eyes glinting. “I want your cloak, prince.”
“Done,” Kastiel says, already feeling the burn of the tattoo etching on his upper forearm.

Seraphine

Seraphine’s breath was knocked out of her—feeling her body heal itself from her cuts and bruises, her malnourishment from the long, long days on the road slipping away. The Suriel gives her one last look, a strange one, before it disappears from her view.
“Are you alright?” the boy—no prince says to her. Now that she can see him better in the daylight, Seraphine notices his broad shoulders, his tan complexion and the way his full mouth curves up, in a secret smile. There is no doubt in her mind that he is the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. He takes a small step towards her, but Fen is already growling before the prince could say anything further.
“Oh, hush Fen,” she orders her silly wolf. Seraphine looks at the unusual group in front of her—two girls, one with beautiful long red curls, and a pale complexion, another with dark hair and skin; and three boys— all tan with dark hair. But the one in front of her has the most beautiful blue eyes. “I know I should be scared, but isn’t it odd to feel safe with a company of strangers.”
The air suddenly feels heavy between them.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, reaching for her hand.
“Yes,” she answers, without any inkling of doubts, and reaches towards him too.

Kastiel

“My name is Kastiel, and this is my team—Grigor, Ariadne, Lilia and Zephyr,” he says into Seraphine’s ear, smelling the sweet smell of her silver hair.
Kastiel clears his throat and shifts his arms under her weight, which was too light for his liking. He didn’t want to think of the possibility of dropping her, remembering how her body fell from the sky earlier. Kastiel hadn’t mentioned the black pit to her either. He didn’t want her to feel caged in his arms, with no where to turn when he asks her about it.
“Seraphine,” she suddenly says slowly, not taking her eyes away from the sky ahead.
As they make their way home, the mist preventing Kastiel’s magic is slowly thinning. He could already feel his own magic returning.
Kastiel sends a message into his father’s mind.
“Father, we’re on our way back.”
There was slight static before his father replies.
“Hurry home, Kastiel, your uncle is getting anxious,” his father says with humour in his voice, making Kastiel feel warm from the sound. There was a pause before his father asks, “did you get the jewel?”
“Yes father, but something strange has happened—”
“Something strange,” his father interrupts, “in the magical forest that is no-man’s land?”
“Father please, be serious. There’s a girl–”
But before Kastiel could continue, an awful scream tear from his mouth. He felt pure, painful agony from his chest and arms.
He looks down at the sight of Seraphine covered in flames around him.
She too was screaming, trying to contain whatever powers she had into herself. The smell of burnt flesh invaded his nose.
Kastiel uses the water powers inherited from his mother to douse the flames in hands and on her body, but he couldn’t concentrate on holding her up and making sure they were still in the air.
He could already feel her slipping through his arms.
Kastiel’s team tried to help, before strong familiar arms wrapped around him. Kastiel closed his eyes, swallowing another scream coming out of him. He still couldn’t get used to the feel of winnowing, especially when it was for longer distances, but he thanked the God’s that his father and uncles were there.
Finally, for what felt like an eternity, Kastiel and Seraphine land with a loud thud in his house in Velaris.

move like you want | (m)

Originally posted by heavenly-minds

pairing: kim taehyung x reader
genre/warnings: smut, explicit descriptions of sex, fingering, oral, dirty talk
words: 7,960
summary: where you meet the gaze of an incredibly attractive red head at a music bar and one thing leads to another…

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What Happens In Vegas: Part 15

A Bucky x Reader / AU drabble series

Master List

A/N: SO sorry this took so long. I was procrastinating big time and also life got in my way. There’s only one part left after this and an epilogue, so I really hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think! ♥

Word Count: 2,184
(I know this is not a drab, and this is the longest part to date :O)

Warnings:
- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

Bucky was sleeping peacefully beside you the next morning, after spending hours the night before trying to get him to fall asleep. His nerves were getting the best of him, and rightfully so. You’d spent most of the night coming up with a court summons for Peggy, so that you could finally find out whom Charlotte’s true father was. You pushed his hair off of his forehead and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. The love you had for him swelled in your chest and, in that moment, you vowed to find the truth for him, to give him inner peace. Even though this was his own personal struggle, it would bring peace to you and your relationship with him as well. Maybe, just maybe, it would also mend his and Steve’s lifelong friendship.

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bad | 02

 He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by whyparkjimin

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader (ft. kim taehyung)

GENRE: romance, smutish, fluff

WORDS: 4 589

WARNINGS: badboy!jungkook, badboy!taehyung, cussing, mature

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07coming soon ↠ 

A/N: you people wanted more, so I’m here to give you more. this is not the last part. again, tell me if you want it to continue. I don’t wanna keep writing if no one cares. and tHANKS FOR 500

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When somebody asks me how life is going, I always have the same answers: It’s okay, it’s fine.

What I really want to say is that my mother’s growing old and I’m scared. The wrinkles that form her face when she frowns have gotten deeper and her finger nails that she used to keep colored a dark shade of red are bare.

My little sister is learning to become a number at school. She received her first report card with all straight 90’s, but the girl who sits behind her had all straight 95’s. She clearly didn’t try hard enough, she believes.

My brother just entered high school, but he’s already stressed about what he’s going to do after college.

My father’s footsteps sound heavier on the wooden stairs of our house when he comes home from work now and his body looks tired.

My friends go to bed feeling empty and twist and turn in their sheets before they fall asleep from complete exhaustion and wake up restless.

I operate like a robot and have absolutely no control over time. It seems to be slipping from my fingers like the wind and I can’t trail behind it.

That is the way it is for most people.
We live in a constant cycle that repeats every day and the color of our lives becomes duller as we grow.

One day we’ll wake up being seventy and think, “Where did my life go?”

It went a little like this:

When you were born, you were born with curiosity burning in your veins. The sound of it was heard loud and clear when you giggled as a toddler and it slowly became inaudible when you became a teenager. In fact, the fire nearly burned out completely when you reached adulthood.

But it’s not out yet.
It doesn’t blow out until your heart stops working.
As long as your lungs expand and deflate, stardust production continues in your blood.

You can’t change the past.
You can’t correct the errors you made or pretend they’ve never occurred.

You can never find true happiness if you are always looking for it.

Live now.
Live in this very minute.
Damn it, don’t think about what happens next. What happened before.
If somebody broke your heart, tell them.
Kiss the hell out of the one that makes you happy.
Call up that relative you swore you hated but haven’t heard from in a while and ask them how they are.
Take out that shirt from your closet that you bought because it was pretty and wear it, even if you think it doesn’t look great on you.
Drink more water in the day even if you don’t feel thirsty.
Put down your phone and step outside for a few minutes and just breathe.
Stare at the moon, the stars, the clouds as they drift onwards.
Watch the sunrise and the sunset by yourself and listen to soft music when you do it.
Take long showers and touch yourself gently.
Stop believing that a low grade defines your intelligence and learn to appreciate your hard work when you’ve put it in.
Make sure to give yourself a break when you need it.
Hug your friends for a minute longer and remind them that you love them.
Change your vocabulary from “I can’t” to “I can”.
Be open to pain and letting go of it.
Scream at the top of your lungs when the world is sitting on your shoulders.
Set fire to the dreams you couldn’t achieve and with the ashes form a new path.

Make your life one that is worth being proud of.
That you can feel satisfied with once you are taking your last breaths.

You have always been making choices on your own—It is up to you to make the best ones.

—  LIVE LIKE YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TOMORROW 

anonymous asked:

omg plz do an imagine about the missus being out in public with her and Harrys teenage son school clothes shopping and the cashier or someone thinks that the missus is his girlfriend lmao i think Harry would laugh so hard but yet be protective even tho its their son

Sorry for holding up the request for too long. Talk to me about Harry!!!

“Ma this one?” Noah asked pulling out a plain white clad tee from the rack. He was 18, yet dragged you along always for shopping. Just like his dad who currently was busy in searching through clothes for himself.

Noah wasn’t a huge fan of fashion unlike his dad. He liked to keep it all simple and sober.

“Hm don’t you think it’s way too simple Noah?” You asked resting your hands on your hips looking out for some more good tee.

“No mum. I like it. Plus its summers so yeah cool cool” he said leaning in to kiss your cheek. Lanky and tall again like Harry. You smiled and nodded.

“Anything else bub? Or shall we pay?” You asked him gathering the tees and shorts he already tried on. Noah shook his head and held your hand as your both walked to the cash counter to pay.

You put all the clothes on the shelf as Noah pulled out his Wallet to pay. Noah was one of a handsome boy. He was 6ft tall already an had beautiful chest nut straight hair, his eyes were beautiful with your eye colour.

“Shopping huh?” The old cashier asked as Noah nodded wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“You both look beautiful together. Make a lovely couple. God bless you.” He said smiling. The wrinkles on his face showing up with it.

“You go’ it wrong man. She is my wife and this handsome’s mother” Harry said laughing as he came up from behind and pulling you to him. Noah on the other side was laughing.

“Oh my god. My apologies” the man said being embarrassed. Harry chuckled and rubbed the old man’s arm in a soothing way.

“It’s okay. I know she’s still young” Harry said making the man chuckle. You all paid and walked out the store with Noah still laughing behind you two.

“Stop now Noah! ” you said with a laugh as he kissed your cheek.

“I know I have maintained myself” you said with a smirk.

“Yes you do mum” Noah said holding your hand. He winced when Harry hit the back of his head.

“Wha’ was that fo’ dad?” Noah said in his thick accent as he rubbed the back of his head.

“She’s still my wife aye? Ge’ away!” Harry said. He playfully nudged Noah away and held your hand.

You giggled as Noah held the other.

“And she’s still my mum and we make a good couple. Bette’ couple than you dad. Because yeh have a lot of wrinkles on yeh face!” Noah said sticking his tongue out as you laughed.

“Yeh’re grounded man!”

Purple Jewels (M) 01

Word Count: 6,494
Member: Jimin x Reader x Jungkook
Genre: Smut, (Supernatural????) Eventual fluffyness & Slight angst

Genie!Jimin ⇢ Part One | Part Two | Ongoing

When you fall in love with Jungkook and he isn’t there to catch you, a sudden surprise shows up to give you a little bit of help.

cr.

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Peanut Butter - m.

Requested.

member: Jeon Jungkook

genre: Smut, Fluff, Dogboy!au

warnings: Nsfw, Mature Content, Hybrid Smut, Don’t eat peanut butter while reading this!

↠  words: 2.1k

Originally posted by apgujeon

You threw your drenched backpack, filled with the school books that have drowned a couple of time, in the corner of the apartment door. The small, homely apartment that you shared with your boyfriend. Both of you and Jungkook were college students and juggled with a part-time job to afford the rent together. Since you and him didn’t want to live among the crowded students in the University’s dorm. 

The apartment was placed nearby the sea, making the rents much more expensive. However, the clear view over the Busan sea was unforgettable. Although they forbid pets especially dogs. There’s a big red sign right outside of the door with no dogs allowed. Of course, Jungkook being Jungkook got quite offended by that.

At the same time, no one can know what Jungkook really is. It’s best to keep it as a secret.

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