I'm back... I did this yesterday but I don't love both of them so I was putting off showing anyone, but here we are. (Also I had to use google drive to upload these bc tumblr's being mean about me uploading copyrighted stuff sorry)
So... what exactly was I thinking? I have no idea, I think I wasn't
Instead of just taking the entire kor song in the first verse then the entire eng in the second half, I tried to switch between korean and english lines and make it even that way and I tried to make sure each member had an even split of korean and english lines, and to also make sure the choruses were in both English and Korean somehow.
Buuuut why's there a "selfish version"?
Because as much as I wanted everything to be even and fairly split, there are just some members *cough* jungwon *cough* sunghoon *cough* jay *cough* who I love hearing them in english. And there are some lines I prefer in korean because I like the lyrics more.
ANYWAY, this is the sh*t i'm doing instead of actually writing and it's actually shi*t, thanks for putting up with me, i'm gonna go back to scrolling through tumblr fanfics for inspo and maybe someday finishing the NCT DJJ vampire fic i've had sitting in my drafts the last few years.
(Also I made a mixed version of Love Talk if anyone cares to see it kbye)
“Where’s the nearest bridge so I can throw myself off of it?”
Your boyfriend bolts upright at your question. You’ve been silent up until now and this being the first thing out of your mouth is definitely alarming. “What?”
You don’t realize you’d said it out loud. When you started studying for the night, you were already exhausted from another long day of classes and stressed about your upcoming exam, not to mention it’s only the middle of the week. Forcing yourself to miraculously take in more information after already stuffing it throughout the day without any real down time is just part of your daily soul-sucking routine.
At this point, your mind has caved into a place at the intersection of pent up fatigue, anxiety, and sleepiness just shy of delirium. In other words, this was probably your way of preventing a mental breakdown while also being tired at the end of a long day.
Your heavy, burning eyes slowly turn to your boyfriend. “Can you just casually… put a bullet through my head and end my suffering?”
“No no, we’re not doing any of that.” Kun leaps out of your bed and walks over to shut your laptop closed. He pulls your chair back before hoisting you up. “Come on, you’re going to bed. You need to quit for the night before you overload yourself.”
“I told myself to at least finish that powerpoint before I call it quits.” You make half-assed grabby motions at your haphazard desk. “I was so close to finishing, honest.”
He pauses halfway. “How many slides did you have left?”
“50?”
“Nope, you’re going to bed.”
You don’t bother groaning, submitting to Kun’s judgment. As soon as he lays you down, your body seems to relax for the first time all day, aching and sighing in relief at finally getting a chance to rest.
Kun snuggles up next to you and pulls the blanket up over both your bodies. He gives you his typical disappointed expression. “How are you gonna retain any information when you’re this tired?”
You settle into the pillow, your eyes already half closing as you mumble, “I broke the topics up into each day before the test. I can’t fall behind.”
“But that’s not quality studying, honey.” His calloused finger rub gently across your cheek. “Get some good rest, you had an especially long day today. Tomorrow when you’re better rested you can catch up.”
Today, that was enough convincing, his warmth and the soft mattress already calling you halfway to sleep. You don’t even have the energy to stress about making up my study time tomorrow.
You lean into him, eyes slipping closed. “Kay. Night babe…”
Your final sendoff into sleep is his angel kiss on your forehead.
---
This was sitting in the drafts for a while, have some crumbs while I'm bored at work I guess.
The window air conditioner barely does anything against the summer heat. You lean back against the headboard, nestling your head in a cooler spot of the pillow as you lay your laptop in front of you. It’s not the best weather to study in by far; constantly needing to adjust your position from heat is the worst distraction.
Near the foot of the bed is another distraction, although a welcome one. Your boyfriend had long since given up on studying in the summer heat. He’d traded his paperback book for his guitar, the light strumming and picking creating a sweet backdrop to your not-so-lazy summer day. He’d recently decided to try playing the instrument and he’s been learning to play anything between pop hits and classic soft rock. Your heart swells with pride whenever he tries new things. His perseverance and self-motivation are one of the many things you adore about him.
Your eyes trail off your laptop more distant to his figure. He’s been stumbling through the same phrase for about 10 minutes, the adoring pout of his lips growing with each passing moment accompanied by scrunching eyebrows. He tiptoes around it carefully, like a child sounding out a new word and repeating it until it comes more naturally before backtracking to incorporate it into the rest of the song. He lets out a frustrated huff and starts from the beginning.
Pushing your notes off to the side, you crawl over behind him, resting on your knees to envelop your arms around his torso. Behind your closed eyes, you see the faint melody of the song mapped out as he plays, stumbling every once in a while. A warmth still blooms in your chest as he perseveres. At your touch, his back muscles relax under you, helping him play a little smoother. Your nose buries itself in his neck, ear pressed against his hair.
Somewhere along the line, the song smoothly transitions into a song you know very well. You smile against his skin, lightly tapping a finger against him to keep time. It’s the first song he completed, specifically because he wanted to serenade you as his first accomplishment. You hum against his skin, coaxing him along. The memory of him performing the song for you replays behind your closed eyes as you recall how nervous he was despite his gummy smile.
As he finishes with a flourish, you peck his cheek. “You’ve gotten much better at that one.”
“Because I’ve played it so many times for you.” Yoongi cranes his neck to return the favor.
You trace circles on his abdomen. “Are you gonna learn a new one for my birthday?”
He fakes an exasperated expression. “Not another one.”
You giggle and pepper kisses along his neck and shoulder before moving to his side, cupping his face. “I’m proud of you. You’re my talented boy.”
His eyes brighten just the tiniest bit, a shy smile spreading across his face. He leans forward to kiss your nose. “And you’re the best audience.”
~~
This is what happens when I'm tired at work, I end up daydreaming instead of working.
summary: While you're going through some personal problems, your boyfriend offers you some advice to help you.
word count: 2,045
warnings: broken relationships, burning things, DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY
a/n: First fanfic post!! Well, not really, more like first one shot I guess? Bc I've done timestamps (But I don't really count those tbh oh well)... Anyway! Sorry the first one had to be angst, but this is also something for me to help process things, maybe you can relate? Enjoy! (Also there's a MHA version of this on my MHA fanfic blog, go read it!)
"Babe, what are you doing?"
I hear his shuffling footsteps behind me as I'm rolling a small lump of dough in my hands. Not that I’m surprised that he’s awake, more surprised he came out of his studio before morning broke. But I don't look at him, instead choosing to concentrate on getting just the right amount of dough into my hands. "I'm baking cookies," I answer simply.
He trudges toward the kitchen, rubbing his eyes from under his hood. "It's 4 AM. What are you doing awake?"
I hesitate placing the balled dough on my kitchen scale for a beat before returning to my rhythm. There are so many ways to answer that question, many of them would worry him. Hell, they worry me. So many answers that would require an unraveling of complex emotions that I'd rather not think about, nor would I prefer to visit right now because I don't feel like crying in the middle of the kitchen at this time of night. But at the same time, the fact that I am making cookies at a nocturnal time is cause for worry.
It means it's getting bad. Again.
I sigh, plopping the neatly rolled up ball onto the baking sheet next to me. "Because I've lost control of my life." That's not a bad way to start, I guess.
Namjoon stands next to me and examines my workstation. His soft gaze darts between the bowl of cookie dough, the parchment paper lined kitchen scale, and the baking sheet. Even as I continue portioning the dough carefully, I feel him studying me carefully. The next thing I hear is running water as he washes his hands before he wordlessly takes his place next to me.
We work in silence. Knowing him, the questions are turning in his head, but I'm pleased that he doesn't ask questions (yet). Still, I appreciate his company; it’s the little comforts he provides.
Once the cookies are in the oven baking, we set the timer and I slide them in the oven. As the door closes and I straighten, I feel his arms circle me from behind. His warmth under the sleeves of his hoodie envelopes me with his scent. “Are you okay?” he finally questions gently, leaning his chin on my shoulder.
I've been wondering how to tell him for a while. I knew he would ask eventually. He’s very patient, but concern tends to get in his way. My situation with someone else has nothing to do with him, but he's the closest person to me. He deserves to know at least what's going on, I just don't know how much I should tell him. There was a chance he'd think differently of me, knowing I have some ugly thoughts.
He hugs me tighter. "I’ve noticed, for the past few weeks, you've been more quiet, less talkative, you're spacing out more, you haven’t been going out on Sundays like you usually do.”
I look down at the floor and grip his arms for support. "I've... had a lot on my mind lately." It's not a complete lie.
He nuzzles his head into mine. "I’m worried about you."
The care in his voice tugs sharply at me, releasing a wave of melancholy chaos so brutal I start trembling. A fresh wave of sobs threatens to come out as I cover my mouth.
"Oh sh- Babe, I’m-"
"No, it's fine," I manage out shakily, my voice already higher and cracking.
Namjoon leads me to the living room couch to sit me down, handing me the box of tissues. I take one to rub my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat. "I needed to tell you sometime and I've been neglecting you, I'm sorry."
He scoots closer to me. “No, I wanted you to take your time. I’m here to listen.”
I tell him everything. Every detail of my slow burn argument that lasted almost a whole week, starting from inciting events weeks ago to the climactic end last week. All my regrets, my mistakes, my anger, my insults, my self-doubt, my regrets, all the unspoken words I've kept to myself. Everything rushed out of me to the point where I was sobbing and shaking, my boyfriend cradling me in his arms. I thought I would've been able to handle it, pushing it down for me to deal with and process later, but later never came because I was trying to delay facing them. My fear of showing him the innermost darkest and broken parts of me that I thought would push him away. I realize I'm more of a mess than I thought I was; I let it build up by myself until I became a sobbing mess.
Namjoon stays silent, running his warm hands up and down my back and listening to everything I had to say, even if they weren't exactly coherent from the sobs.
"I'm proud of you, you know. You've been trying to dig yourself out of a dark place for weeks, and I'm so proud you're trying. But there's nothing wrong with asking for help, it doesn't make you weak. I know, it’s hard dealing with dark thoughts, especially since you’re the nicest person I’ve met. We all have our dark side, but it comes from a place of hurt and it's a genuine feeling. It doesn't make you a bad person just because you have them. It makes you human. I had to learn that too." He pulls back to look at me and wipe the tear trails off my face. He offers a gentle smile. "I still love you. I'm here for you, I won't leave just because you want to insult someone who hurt you. I don’t think of you any differently. You’re still my angel."
I slam into his body, clutching him like a lifeline. How does he always know just what to say?
His large hand rhythmically thumps against my back. “I'm sorry you're feeling this way. I'll do anything I can to help you, if you'll let me. I know how hard it was to tell me."
I let his comforting warmth wash over me as my sobs calm down, leaning against him and tracing the veins on the back of his hands. “I didn't want to think about my feelings for so long. I wanted to ignore them as much as I could because I thought they were bad. I thought ignoring them meant being able to move on. I ran away from them until I was baking cookies at 4 am just to distract myself. I just... want to face them and be done with them."
A few heartbeats pass before he says, "Well, why don’t you burn them?"
I stop. "What?"
"Burn them. Write them down and then burn the paper." When I give him a confused expression, he explains, “You're the kind of person who needs to get things off your chest to relieve your feelings and be done with them. I know there are things you don't want to or have to tell me that you want to say to spare someone's feelings. The only way you can be honest with yourself is to write down how you feel, exactly how you’re thinking it. And then, once it's out of your system, you burn it. No one else has to know how you really feel."
The idea sounds perfect. A chance to face my feelings and let them out without anyone knowing. And maybe some of my anger will be quelled by some form of destruction, I guess.
"Wait, have you done this before? Won’t it be dangerous?”
Guilt spreads across his features. “Well, I mean, my therapist recommended it once.”
“...Can I borrow your therapist?”
A week later, Namjoon and I stood outside in a park on a concrete clearing in the dark night. There was no wind to bother the fire or make a sound. I huddle close to him, looking at the inked looseleaf in my hand.
The night I wrote these words, I was angry and vulnerable. Hesitant to start at first, I couldn’t stop myself after the first sentence. My thoughts barely echoed in my mind as they were reproduced on paper. The experience was in a limbo between autopilot robotic reproduction and furious out-of-body possession. The only thing I vaguely remember is how rhythmic the words flowed out of me and the red-tinted vision of me screaming them out into an abyss without consequence. I couldn't even recall anything I'd written, despite the same insults dangling behind my tongue for days. I felt lighter, freed, but afraid of what I might've said. I tucked the paper away without reading it for days.
It wasn't until a few hours earlier that I decided to revisit them. The person's voice was furious, almost like they were never allowed to speak before, but now they had free reign. This person was a prisoner standing on their field to be executed and desperate to have their last words heard before they croaked. Honestly, I would've been repulsed, only pitying them for their terrible decisions and upbringing that led them here. But these were mine. I'm the villain who had to take accountability.
I wish I could say I didn't mean them, but I wrote them, my intent is obvious. At least I can say I'm not proud of them. I said what I needed to say, now no one needs to see them. I'm going to let that side of me go.
Namjoon takes the paper from my hand. "Okay, first time we’re willingly destroying something.”
I raise an eyebrow. "Why does this sound like something the guys would do?"
He opens his mouth to object, but then closes it. "It does sound like something Jungkook would do if we left him alone for too long.” He reaches into his pocket. “Taehyung let me borrow his lighter." Giving me a final glance of support, he asks, "You ready?"
I nod, bracing myself.
The moment the lighter turns on, the bottom of the paper erupts into a single brilliant flame, sending my heart into a frenzy at my instant danger reflex. My body tenses being this close to fire, but I relax as I focus on the bigger, beautiful picture. A weak halo surrounding us and illuminating the pavement, the spotless paper being consumed quickly, the flames ascending up and leaving charr in its place, the gradient of a blue base bleeding into blinding yellow and white outlined by an orange border. I watch as my messily scrawled words disappear like a dark curtain sweeping across it, rendering it useless as only the smell of smoke and ash take its place.
I embrace his free arm. Words wouldn't be enough to describe how grateful I am for him standing by me this entire time, supporting me, being available for me to open up to him, being my safe space, witnessing this with me.
The timeless moment bitterly ends as only a little piece of paper remains and Namjoon releases it into a waiting bucket of water, the last of the paper chars to black, the flame fizzling out into blue until only dark grey smoke remains in the darkness. I follow the trail up into the night sky as if hoping to catch a glimpse of my words flying away.
"You okay?" Namjoon whispers, not wanting to disturb the stillness.
I let my body relax. My chest feels strangely lighter but filled with a newfound relief. Is this what spiritual cleansing feels like? The darkness around me is almost dreamlike. "Yeah," I breathe, allowing myself a moment to come back down. "I feel much better." I embrace Namjoon in a tight hug. "Thank you for this."
My boyfriend plants a kiss on top of my forehead. "It's the least I can do to help."
As we finally drag ourselves inside, I imagine the paper that's just burned in front of me, the inked words on it already forgotten. I'm satisfied with letting them go, knowing they can't hurt anyone else and I wasn't attached to them enough to be sad.
Whatever I wrote will be a secret that even I don't know, a secret I set free.
my biggest gripe with sm this entire perfume era is that they dressed doie like a whole SLUT and even gave a lil sexiness to jaehyun and they kept jungwoo all covered up in double layers
yall KNOW what he has under there JUST LET HIM SHOW ITTTT
but the best fits so far in the lives have to be inkigayo
The sudden urge to leave my study group for a stroll in the brisk, autumn air has my legs carrying me down the campus walkway. Their anxiety over every knit-picking detail overwhelms and frustrates me enough to need escape. Tomorrow is an exam in a class I’m not doing particularly well in, and my classmates can say the same. I’ve repressed my stress enough so it’s not conscious anymore, but the semi-conscious manifestations are still there. My mind has been conditioned to want one person and one person only in this situation. Ever since before the first exam when he offered a mind-clearing walk to me in the wake of a silent meltdown, it’s become a sort of ritual I’d like to keep.
“Hey, are you busy right now?”
It’s a simple message that my fingers typed and sent without much thought. I’m already within range of the library where he’s most likely studying. Even though it won’t hurt to ask, the answer might hurt.
I’m at the door to the building when Jungkook’s reply comes: “In the lib with the guys, what’s up?”
Unfortunately, he’s also too popular to be bothered with my problems at this time. Although expected, my heart doesn’t fail to sink the slightest. I stop in my tracks, deflated at the answer.
“Ah, nvm then.”
My feet remain planted in front of the doorway, debating my next step. My stress definitely has me craving chocolate as well, and since there’s a vending machine inside, I might as well create a purpose for walking all the way here. I enter and navigate the lobby for my indulgent treat.
“No, what’s up?”
“It’s nothing lol, don’t worry”
It would be rude of me to interrupt his studying with his friends for him to comfort and listen to my irrational insecurities. Even if he said to text him whenever and that I’m not bothering him, he’s probably just being polite, he doesn’t actually mean it. Besides, he’s just as stressed as I am, I shouldn’t add babysitting me to his list of issues, nor should I deprive him of critical study time.
I sigh and take my chocolate bar from the machine, fiddling with the crunching wrapper. I’ll just find a seat outside just to be alone with my thoughts for a while.
“Y/n?”
My head snaps up at my name and his voice. In his neutral expression holds a hint of concern in his raised eyebrow. He saunters over to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to know where you were studying.” I muster my best fake smile.
He doesn’t look too convinced, eyes surveying me. I focus my attention down on the stubborn plastic that refuses to open. “Here, give me.” He takes it out of my hands, cracks it open without issue, and returns it before stuffing his hands in his jogger pockets. “Let’s take a walk, we haven’t talked in a while, have we?” His playful grin lights up his features.
I blink and I can’t help but smile back. “Sure.” I did come down for a break after all.
It’s comforting just being with him. He never pressures me to talk about what’s bothering me and he has this infectious positive energy constantly radiating outwards. One week at the beginning of the semester on our first walk together, I asked him how he’s always so positive all the time, and he simply replied, “You just gotta go with the flow. Do whatever you can with the amount of time you have, don’t try to push yourself too hard and have fun. That’s what my hyungs say.”
As an anxious person at the brink of a panic attack, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but after chewing on his words a little, I realized it might benefit me to be more relaxed rather than wound up all the time.
Jungkook and I step outside into the brisk wind. I zip up my windbreaker and bury my hands in the pockets. “How’s the studying coming along?” I ask.
I notice he’s biting his fingers again, but pulls away when he wants to answer. “You know, same as everyone else. I’m nervous about it, but I’m trying as hard as I can, putting enough effort in.” He turns to look at me. “What about you?”
I take in how the longer strands of his hair frame his features, the rest of the dark locks tied up in his endearing bouncy ponytail. I offer a grim, tight lipped excuse of a smile. “I might be a little overwhelmed I guess. I just couldn’t sit and study anymore when I’ve been doing it all day.” I sound light hearted about it, but it’s how I really felt. “My study mates are pouring over every single word in the powerpoint and it’s not doing me any favors.”
“Yeah, I could tell you needed a break,” he chuckles. “It takes a lot for you to ask me for a walk. You seem to have it all together most of the time.”
I snort at that. “Yeah, when in reality I’m having a meltdown, but what else can you do? No one has time to spare on a breakdown when there’s like 400 slides of material to cover, so you gotta schedule that in for afterwards.”
“But after the exam, you won’t need the breakdown?”
“That’s the point I guess?”
His dorky throaty laughter bursts out of his lips. “Not the healthiest thing, but okay.”
“Oh, and drinking a nitro cold brew at almost 4 pm is?” I prod back at him.
“We don’t talk about that.” He lightly bumps my shoulder with his before plopping his hand on my shoulder, stopping me in our tracks. “You’re a strong person, and you’re smart. How else would you have gotten this far?”
I want to ignore the stir his words give me. “I dunno, dumb luck and all-nighters I guess?”
He shakes his head, his stare boring into mine, forcing me to internalize his words. “There are so many other people who can put in the same amount of work as you and they still can’t get to where you are. Be proud of yourself and how much you’ve accomplished. Obviously, whatever you’re doing so far works. You’ll get through this.” He cracks another goofy smile. “Besides, if we all do bad, he’ll have to curve the exam, right?”
I can’t help but laugh at his last statement. “You’re right, maybe we should all just automatically fail so he can give back half the exam.” We continue walking in silence, observing the change in the leaves on the trees. “Such a shame that we’re stuck studying and we can’t properly appreciate what’s around us.”
“Yeah, I wish I brought my camera with me, maybe I’d enjoy it more. Mental cameras still work though!” He holds his hands up and pretends to click his images on his imaginary camera.
Gosh, he’s such a dork, I think fondly. “You have no business sounding that wise, it’s not fair.”
“It’s all Namjoon, not me, I don’t take any credit for that,” he smiles with his bunny teeth.
I can’t help the amount of serotonin coursing through my veins. There’s something satisfying about finishing and passing an exam you thought you were definitely going to fail. All the nervous energy you built up, absolutely overwhelmed by unease wildly preparing for the exam, convinced that you could study until you were blue in the face but still keeping the irrational fear that you’re just going to fail for no real reason. Even taking the test, the nervous energy evolves into tense anxiety. Hovering your finger over the button to submit the exam, everything peaks when you force your finger to click, your heart stops as the automated score loads, the moments lasts for more than a second. Finally, seeing the score pop up green releases all that built up tension, leaving you thinking that maybe all that stress might’ve been worth it.
I practically bounce out of the classroom with my belongings. I passed with a higher score than I’d imagined and that was enough to have me fist-pumping all the way outside the building.
“Someone’s awfully energetic,” one of my classmates chuckles as I enter the field outside the building. The rest of the students who’d finished earlier were gathered in groups. “I guess you did pretty well?” His eyebrow cocks up to match a good-natured smirk.
“Yup!” All the late night studying for the past week has paid off. “I can’t wait to take a well-deserved mini-break later today.”
“Yeah, me too.” Doyoung’s smirk widens into a toothy beam. He’s pretty friendly, and his smile reminds me of a bunny. I don’t talk to many of the students in our class, but there’s something openly friendly about him and he’s chill. He glances down at his phone. “We don’t have class for another hour, you wanna grab some coffee? We’re gonna be here the rest of the day, might as well recharge.”
My empty stomach flips. I didn’t eat much this morning because I was too nervous for the exam and I’d gotten up early to review. Coffee and a breakfast sandwich would hit the spot right about now.
“Great-!” His eyes flicker behind me briefly.
Before I can ask what’s wrong, a familiar arm and scent wrap around me, accompanied by a kiss to my temple. “Hi babe, how was your test?”
I rest my head against his chest. “Great! What’re you doing here?”
Taeyong's hand remains on my waist, pulling me into his leather jacket and flashing his ever-precious smile. “I figured you’d finish your test early, so we could get breakfast before your next class.” He grips me tighter, almost tickling my sides as he buries his nose in my neck. “And I know you didn’t eat much this morning, so I’m gonna spoil you.”
“Baby,” I whine in embarrassment, noticing Doyoung’s obvious discomfort with our PDA. “We’re in public.”
And just like that, Taeyong's goofy demeanor does a 180 when he straightens up, completely serious and intimidating as he gives the other man a subtle once-over. “Sorry about that.” With that face, I know he isn’t.
I squeeze the hand still possessively holding my body. “This is Doyoung, he’s one of my classmates."
The confused boy offers an awkward smile, probably regretting that he saw our little exchange. “Nice to meet you.”
My boyfriend's lips relax just enough to fake a tight smile and nod. "(Y/n)'s told me about you, thanks for keeping them company, they’re not the best at making friends in new situations." He squeezes me tighter and chuckles. I can tell, he's trying so hard to keep his jealous side back. "But we're headed out now, we'll be back before class starts again." WIth that, he quickly leads me away from Doyoung.
“See you later, (Y/n)!” the boy calls back to me.
I have to laugh at Taeyong’s reactionary groan under his breath. He hurries us along faster, sticking his hand in my jacket pocket, probably a possessive move. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, Yongie.”
"You didn't tell me Doyoung's handsome," he pouts, and I can't resist him. The way his eyes still sparkle even when he's upset weakens me.
I’d tease him about it, but his puppy dog eyes beg me not to. I grip his hand in my pocket and rub his knuckles. “I couldn’t tell, there’s an even more handsome boy occupying my thoughts all day.”
His galaxy eyes shine at the stroke to his ego, cheeks dusting rosy pink. “You’re just saying that.”
Just to fluster him more, I kiss his nose. “Thanks for taking me out to brunch, sweet boy.”
His heartwarming grin sends a flash of soft electricity through me. “It’s my pleasure, dear. Let’s go fill your belly, you’ve worked hard.”
~~~
Basically I took an exam I thought I was gonna fail and next thing I knew I wanted a hypothetical boyfriend to feed my stressed belly
