#also his character twist is such a fun idea to play with

[yakool-foolio]

Am I really thinking of making a playlist for Ichinose?

...Yeah, I am. I'm deciding to be devious about it.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Pocky Game

SUMMARY: How would they react if you asked them to play Pocky with you? Do they already know the game? How do they act while playing? And who is the first to finish the biscuit stick and kiss the other?

CHARACTERS: All NRC students (except Ortho)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points; Kissing; suggestive?

WORD COUNT: An average of 310 words per character.

COMMENTS: I had this idea for some time but only now did I write it down. I don't know what else to tell to you other than: I hope you enjoy 😘

CONTEXT: The Pocky game is a party game played with Pocky, a Japanese chocolate- or candy-coated biscuit snack. Two participants place the Pocky between them “Lady and the Tramp” style, and try to be the last to hold onto the biscuit, often resulting in a kiss.

Since it's a game similar to the famous scene from "Lady and the Tramp" where they eat spaghetti, my headcanon is that this game exists in Twisted Wonderland.

How to play:

Pick a partner that you wouldn't mind kissing.

Face your partner and put a Pocky stick between you. Each partner takes an end of the Pocky stick in their mouth.

Each partner bites their end of the Pocky stick until their mouths meet in the middle. The first person to pull away loses!

Riddle has no idea what this game is, you'll have to explain it to him. “So, if I understand correctly, you lose if you pull away and you win if you keep eating the biscuit stick. Very well. It sounds simple. But is there any purpose to the game? Is it some kind of endurance test?” You say, in a way, it can be seen like that. He smiles.“I see. Are there any other rules I should be aware of before we begin?” You say no, that you already explained everything.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does so and you begin the game. The closer he gets to your face the more he will blush. Until he starts having difficulty looking you in the eye and diverts his attention to the biscuit stick, which makes him make a cute face.

When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn and he pulls away. “W-wait!” The only times he gets redder than he already is is when he's angry, but of course this was not the case. “You never said there was a possibility that neither of us would pull away. If we both continue eating the biscuit stick until the end, what happens? Because if we had continued...” He looks away, embarrassed.

You apologize because you thought finding out during the game would have been a fun surprise. But you didn't know he wouldn't like the idea of... kissing you.

“What? No, no! It's not that I don't like the idea, I actually really wish I had done it... it's just that... I didn't know that it was the objective and I didn't want to, you know, be ill-mannered in case you...” Then he gets slightly upset with you. “You should have warned me! You lied to me when you said there were no more rules.” He smirks confidently. “If you were a student of Heartslabyul, it would have been off with your head for this. But I will allow you to play again and if I consider the end of the game satisfactory, you will have my forgiveness.”

In the second round, even though it's his turn, he will stop and hesitate, he wants you to be the one to consent. So you take the last bite and kiss him. You feel his lips relax. And If you deepen the kiss, he will reciprocate and hug you, pulling you towards him by the waist.

Ace knows this game so well that it's not you who invites him to play, it's he who invites you. “You also bought a box? Ha ha ha, we thought the same thing. That's a good sign.” He winks at you and smirks. “What box do we start with?”

While you play, he looks you in the eyes with a mischievous and provocative look, to see when you will chicken out and lose. The longer this takes, the more he will smile and the more smug his look will become. His face reminds you of a sly cat.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops, to let you choose whether to kiss him or give up and lose, while he looks you in the eyes defiantly.

If you finish the game and kiss him, his eyes will widen in surprise, but soon after that he will close his eyes and you will feel his lips form a triumphant smile. He place a hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

He's the one who breaks the kiss with the most smug smile he's capable of. “Wow, chill out. We still have a lot of biscuit stick to play with.” There is a pause in which you reply. “What do you mean I was more excited than you?!” He blushes. “Lie! You were enjoying it as much as I was!... Wait! I mean...” He blushes even more. “You know what, let's play again to find out.” He smirks again.

The name of the game is not unfamiliar to Deuce, but you’ll have to remind him what kind of game it was. You explain the rules to him, that both players eat the biscuit stick from one side and the first one to pull away loses. “Okay, so whoever finishes the biscuit stick first wins?” He asks and you confirm.

“I see. So let's... wait! What happens if none of us pull away?” He asks innocently. You suggest that he finds it out while you play. And he trusts you, so he accepts the suggestion.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point for him to bite the other side. He does so, and as your faces get closer he begins to blush.

As the two of you take bites, it seems to bring out his competitive side, causing him to pay more attention to his bites of the cookie than to the fact that he's getting so close to you.

He's the one who takes the last bite and kisses you. But he'll quickly jump away and start apologizing. “Sorry, I didn't mean to- I mean I didn't think- expected-” He stammers, unable to finish a sentence and almost as red as when his Housewarden gets angry.

If he sees you looking sad or disappointed because it looks like he didn't want to kiss you, he'll immediately tell you that's not the case! Clumsily, and stumbling over his words.

“Wait... that... that's what you wanted? T-To kiss me?” The poor boy is a little slow. But now that he's realized this, he's going to try to muster up all the confidence he can and suggest that you try it again. And if you take out another biscuit stick to play again he'll be like: "Ah, yes! Try again the game, yes. That... that's what I meant, haha”

Cater was the one who had the idea. And it was probably trending on Magicam. He will ask you to play in the cutest way that only he knows how to ask. “Oh, you know this game too? So you can play with me right? Right, [Y/N]-chan~? You're not going to tell me that you've already played this with other people and you're not going to play it with me. You're going to make Cay-kun very sad, and a little jealy~.”

If you accept, he'll ask you if he can film you two playing. He promises not to post it on Magicam if you don't want him to, but the footage will be so cute that he'll at least want to keep it as a souvenir for himself. “Pretty please~?”

He will play like it's any other game, while looking sweetly into your eyes. Yes, he is taking the opportunity to flirt with you. If you get embarrassed, even just a little bit, he'll find it super cute.

He will let you take the last bite and decide whether to kiss him or not, while he looks at you seductively as a way to convince you to kiss him.

If you do, you'll feel his lips form a smile as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands on top of one of yours and the other on your cheek.

After the kiss, he will stay very close to you, wanting to hug you and with his forehead touching yours, laughing. Like those couples on social media.

Trey recognizes the name. “It's that game where two people eat the same biscuit stick until they meet in the middle, right?” He smiles awkwardly. “Isn't it usually played between crushes?”

If you answer yes in a way that makes him understand that that is exactly why you want to play with him, he'll give you that rare smirk of his, and chuckles. “Okay. I'll be happy to play with you.”

Even though he knows how the game works, he will let you have more control over the game. You'll take the first bite and he'll follow, as if the fun part for him was seeing you having fun and not the game itself.

He will be smiling sweetly the whole game, but when only the last bite is left, his smile turns into a smug as he looks into your eyes, and he kisses you, kindly and relaxedly. Then he'll pull away with that smug still on his face and he'll even lick his lip.

“Well, I guess we both won. That's what you wanted, right? Did I play well?” His expression is a mix of his gentle side with the rare cheeky side. “Oh,you would like I hadn't pull away so soon? Sorry, I'm still getting used to the rules of the game. I don't mind playing it again if you want. It was fun. With or without the biscuit stick.”

Yes, Leona knows what game this is, and he will tease you for wanting to play it. “Isn't that a cubs's play? How cute.” he says lying in the botanical garden, as always. “And why are you asking me to play? Do I look like someone who plays these games?”

You take that as a no (or at least as a 'try to convince me') So you say that if he doesn't want to, you'll find someone else to play with. Points if you say something like: "Maybe Tsunotarou would like to play with me."

“OI! I never said no! But if you want, you'll have to play with me lying down, because I'm not going to get up to make you that favour.”

He just straightens his head, resting it against the base of a tree before you begin. He opens his mouth for you to put the biscuit stick in his mouth. The only thing he'll do is bite that whenever it's his turn.

At first, his expression is neutral, almost bored. But every time your face gets a little closer to his, a smug smile forms on his lips. In the last bite, not only is he smiling, he's looking you in the eyes like a greedy predator.

He takes the last bite, attacking you with a kiss. He's been standing still the whole game, so when he does that you almost get a jump scare. Just like felines preparing to attack.

But he doesn't just attack you with the kiss. At the same time he puts his hands on your waist and makes you lie underneath him.

He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks at you to see your reaction with the most smug smile on his face. “As if this wasn't why you asked me to play with you. Now deal with the consequences.”

Jack doesn't know what game it is, but maybe he's heard the name somewhere. You'll have to explain it to him.

“Okay, it sounds like a simple game. And... You want to play it with me?” He says rubbing his neck. You say yes and if he wants too. “I... I think I don’t mind.” He says wagging his tail.

If you insist on knowing if he is really sure he wants to play with you, he will stop beating around the bush and tell you bluntly: “Yes. Yes, I would like to play it with you.” But blushing a liiittle bit.

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He will follow you. He'll be flattered the whole game. He's never played a game so... intense for him.

Whenever your eyes meet, he looks away and his ears lower.

When there's only one bite left he'll stop and let you decide whether you want your lips to meet or not.

If you kiss him, his ears will immediately stand up straight! And if you don't pull away, he will relax, his ears will go back down, and he’ll deepen the kiss.

And you might be surprised when that shy boy a minute ago, suddenly pulls you close to him by your waist and turns the kiss into a passionate one. His tail wagging like crazy, by the way.

And as suddenly as he brought you closer to him, he will pull away, embarrassed for having let himself be carried away.

He will start apologizing and if you want to keep the flame burning, the best option is to shut him up with another kiss. He will love that.

A game that involves eating? Sign Ruggie up! A game that involves sharing food? “Hum... In that case I should have something else for the halves I let you eat.” He bargains with you.

You can try to dissuade him with something like: “But it's just a silly game. And it's just a biscuit stick.” But he will respond with: “It could even be a freshly picked dandelion, I don't play with food.” He's telling the truth, but trying to appear playful.

You suggest giving him the entire box if he plays with you once. But play the game the way it should be played, not finding a way to play around the rules just so he can keep the box. “Shye hee hee. Don't worry, I have no reason to do that.”

You're the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and wait for Ruggie to start eating the other side. But he looked at you and the cookie with a mischievous look, came closer, opened his mouth and... ATE ALMOST THE ENTIRE THING IN ONE BITE! Leaving you just one bite away from placing your lips against his and ending the game. His gaze was cutely mischievous.

If you finish the game and kiss him, he will hold it for a second just to see if you don't pull away. And when he realizes that you are enjoying the kiss, he will grab you by the waist and deepen the kiss. And there is only one way to describe his kiss: Greedy

Azul doesn't recognize the name of the game, but when you explain it to him he realizes it's a land version of one that exists under the sea. And he'll ask you if he can see the box.

He glances at the front, but then turns it over to see the ingredients list on the back. He's counting the calories, isn't he? You try telling him something like, “Come on, it's just a silly game. Just a little biscuit stick.”

But to your surprise, he starts talking about how a game can be a brilliant marketing strategy, to wonder if he could incorporate those biscuit stick into a dessert on the Mostro Lounge menu and whether the students would be interested. You ask for his attention again.

“I’m deeply sorry for wandering off in thoughts while you were talking to me, but I heard everything you said, don't worry. And since you just gave me an idea for a special new item on the Mostro Lounge menu, the least I can do is accept your invitation to play. That might teach me more about this product. And... that way we’ll be even, correct?” He adjusts his glasses.

His confidence starts to slip as the game starts and he realizes how close your face is to his, and how close it will be by the end of the game. He tries his best to remain unmoved and maintain eye contact with you, but he can't stop the blush from appearing on his face.

When there's only one bite left, he stops so you can take the last one and decide whether the kiss happens or not.

If you do, you will feel the tension in his lips, but he will not break the kiss. And if you don't do it either, it will start to relax and deepen it. The tension turns into a smile and you feel his hands cupping your face.

Jade doesn't recognize the name of the game, and asks you if you could explain to him how to play and what it consists of. He recognizes the description as the land version of a game that also exists under the sea.

“Ah yes, I believe I understood how this game works.” Then he gives you that deceptive smile he does when his true intentions are suspicious but hard to tell. “And you chose me to play it with you? Well, I'm honored. I'm more than eager to partake in this land activity with you of all people.”

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He follows you with a calm smile. But the eyes, they're focused on yours, intensely.

He follows the instructions you explained at the beginning, imperturbably, as if he were truly just following the rules of a simple game. But that was just what he showed. From the look in his eyes you could tell there was much more behind this behaviour.

He always shows himself so passive that it almost came as a surprise to you when he took the last bite like an attacked to kiss you. But his eyes weren't completely closed, just half closed. As if he was observing you and studying you while enjoying the kiss.

And when you start to deepen the kiss, he pulls away, with a charming and dangerous smirk on his face. “It seems that we ended the game in a draw. That is not usually a very exciting outcome, is it. Perhaps we should play another round. And perhaps... make up some new rules of our own. Wouldn't that be interesting?”

Floyd doesn't recognize the game by the name you said, but if your description makes it seem fun in some way, he'll agree to play with you. The problem is that it seems boring to him. It's just eating a cookie. What's so special about that?

You decide to reveal to him that the real reason people play it is to get a kiss from their crush at the end. This makes him smile mischievously. “Aaaah~ So that's why you want to play with me, isn't it Koebi-chan~?” The smile becomes cute. “And what is my reward if I play?”

You say if he doesn't want to kiss you he can just not play. And he sulks. “Ehh? That's not what I said. I want to know what I gain by playing.” He smirks. “Because I don't need to play to get a kiss, do I?” He pauses for a moment to appreciate your reaction. His cute smile returns. “Ah! I know, why don't you give me the box of biscuit stick as payment?” And then he says in that deep voice through the sinister smile. “You're not going to play with anyone else, are you?”

If you accept he'll be like ‘YAY. Let's play then! :3’. You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in the mouth first and he follows with a relaxed look and smile. He follows the rules like you said, but it seems like he's more focused on you than the stick, as if he was amused watching your movements and reactions.

He leaves the last bite for you, watching you with mischievous eyes and an amused smile. If you take the last bite and kiss him, he won't move, not even return the kiss, to see how long you can hold out like that.

When you break the kiss disappointed he will say with a smirk: “Aww, Why so sad? Wasn't it the win you wanted? I told you the game was boring.” He takes the box from your hand, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close to him. “Now if you still want to make out, you should just do it you know? I'm in the mood so don't waste it.”

Kalim doesn't know what game it is but he accepts any invitation to play anything. He's like: “Of course I'll play with you! Hum... what game is that again?” And after you explain he will say with his big enthusiastic smile: “Sounds fun! I know I can't accept food from other people, but it's you, even Jamil says it's okay accepting things from you. So how do we start?”

You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in your mouth and points it to the other end for Kalim to bite. He does so with a cute, innocent smile.

He seems to be having fun playing. When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn, and he ends the game giving you an extremely loving kiss. Like a smooch.

He breaks the kiss with a huge happy smile on his face. “Ha ha! This is fun! Can we play again?”

He will make you play with him until the box is empty. And when he asks to play again and you say that the cookies are gone, he will say: “Ow, I was having so much fun. You too? That's great! We should buy more. I'll pay for all of them.”

When you go to the Mystery Shop to buy more and Kalim discovers that there are several flavours, he will buy ALL OF THEM! All of the ones that Sam has? Yes, because Sam, somehow and at that moment, has ALL OF THEM THAT EXIST!

Jamil knows the game because he's heard of it, If not from schoolmates, then from his sister or something. “Isn't that the game where two people eat a biscuit stick to kiss at the end?” He says this with a neutral face, but then he makes that smug face, with one eyebrow raised. “And you want to play it with me? *chuckle* Fine. I don't see why not. I just have one question: Will you allow me to finish the game however I want?”

You say that as long as you follow the basic rules, he can end the game however he wants. “In that case, don't forget that you were the one who allowed it.” He says.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth, but before he bites the other side, he puts a finger on your chin to tilt it a little and only then bites the biscuit stick.

He plays the whole game with that cocky smile. This is one of those rare moments where he lets his cheeky side show.

When there's only one bite left, he lets you decide how the game ends. The moment you touch your lips to his he will grab you and pull you towards him to deepen the kiss in the blink of an eye. Like a snake biting its prey in a single moment.

And then, he breaks the kiss, licking his lips, and still with his arms around your waist. “You're the one who said I could end it however I wanted as long as I followed the rules.” He says with a smirk and brings his lips closer to your ear. “I hope you haven't regret it.”

Yes, Vil knows this game. There was a time when it became very popular and he usually keeps up with those trends. Especially because sometimes they are incorporated into teen shows. “If I ever participated in one of those scene? No. No offence to the genre but I prefer to participate in films and genres that are less... melodramatic. That and IF I were cast in one of those shows there would be little chance of me getting the love interest role. I am perfectly aware that I’m more of a ‘mean girl’ type.” He says with a certain pride in both his voice and his face.

“And you want to play it with me?” He smirks charmingly. “My dear, you and probably all my fans. I hope you know that if I accept, firstly what a privilege and honor it is, and secondly, that this must remain between us. *chuckle* Well, if you understand that, then perhaps I can give you that pleasure.”

He lets you be the first to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and extend the other side to him, inviting him to bite. He does so with elegance and as if he were following some kind of etiquette for that game that you didn't even know could exist. That and he even places his index finger and thumb on your chin to adjust your posture while playing.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn. He closes his eyes and kisses you gently and delicately. He'll stay like that for a second before breaking the kiss, and lovely looking at you with a soft smile.

“I must admit it was more satisfying than I expected. Thank you for inviting me to play. I shall be the one inviting you next time.”

Epel's never heard of that game, mostly because he's never been interested in that kind of stuff. So you explain it to him. But he doesn't quite understand why that would be fun. “So two people eat a biscuit stick from each side until someone pull away? But what if no one pull away-... wait... Don't tell me the goal is to kiss at the end!?”

When you confirm, his surprised expression begins to turn red. “A-and you want to play it... WITH ME?! No, it's not that I don't want to. I mean...! Hum... you just caught me off guard. But... yes, I... would like to play with you too.” He ends up agreeing with a sweet smile.

He starts playing a little shyly, but as you two take bites he starts to see it as a real game and his competitive side gives him confidence. So much so that when the last bite arrives and he takes it, kissing you, he only realizes it too late.

He quickly pulls away, blushing profusely! He stumbles over his words as he apologizes, because at the same time he also remembers that that was the intention of the game.

“EH! Wait! This is what you wanted, isn't it? Why am I apologizing? Oi! Are you laughing at me? Fine! Let's play again!” He gives you that confident smirk. “And this time, I'm not pulling away! I'm warning you!”

The second time you play he is definitely more confident. And he keeps his word, as soon as you kiss again, he doesn't pull away. His lips start out tense, but they relax as he forgets about the game and enjoys the kiss.

Of course Rook knows this game! A fun excuse for two lovebirds to kiss? How would he not know something like that? “Oh, and would you like me to have the honor of being your playmate? Mais bien sûr, Trickster! It will be my greatest pleasure.” He smiles enthusiastically.

“May I have the honours?” He asks, holding out his hand for you to hand him the box. He takes one of the biscuit stick and puts it in his mouth, inviting you to bite the other side and start the game.

He plays with a big “innocent” smile on his face. But eventually, as your faces get closer, his eyes change to that hunter's gaze.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops and lets you decide whether to take the last bite or pull away, while he fixes his intense gaze on you, observing you. Yes, he likes to hunt, but part of hunting is also setting traps and waiting for the prey to fall into them.

If you finish the game and kiss him, you will feel the smile he already had grow and the kiss becoming sweeter and more passionate. His hands cupping your face, him bringing his body closer to yours, and then one of the hands slowly leaving your face to end at your lower back.

When he finally releases your lips, he's looking at you with desire. “Très bien Trickster. Your lips are sweeter than the chocolate in the biscuit stick.” He brings his lips closer to yours again. “And now, I so ache to taste that mixture of flavours again. Would you allow me to play this once more with you? There are some sensations I would like to introduce you to, as a token of my gratitude.”

Ooh, Idia knows very well what game you are talking about. Probably for the same reasons that you know it too. “Do you think you're in an Otome game or something?” He mocks you with that smug smile. “And even if you wanted to live that fantasy, why me?” he sulks. ”Do you think I would be the only one to fall for this ‘cause of the games I play? That's a bit mean, don't you think? Or did the association of one thing with the other make you feel pity for me? I'm sure any student with good taste would love to play this with you, you don't need to invite me just because no one would do it with me.”

You tell him, in the form of a scolding, that you want to play with HIM! Not out of pity, but because you like him. And maybe, just maybe, you expressed it quite bluntly because of the adrenaline of being upset with him at the moment.

“Y-y-you like me?! C'mon, why would you?” You two continue to argue until he says something like: “FINE! I'll play with you, but when you lose because you pull away at the first bite, don't blame me.”

He's the one who reaches into the box and takes out a biscuit stick to put in his mouth and points the other end at you with an almost annoyed look on his face. Which looks more like a pout.

You take a bite, he takes another and so on. As your faces get closer, to your surprise, he seems to become more confident. Do you really want to play? He'll show you how a game is won! The heat of competitiveness escalates because of the dangerous mix of stubbornness of the two involved.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn, and he's already so heated up by the game that he finishes it as if he were making the final strick. Turning your kiss into a surprisingly passionate attack.

But only for a second, until he opened his eyes in disbelief and immediately pulled away with his hair bursting pink, and the paleness of his face contrasting with his blush.

“I-I-I warned you!” He sees you smiling, and his smugness strikes with full force. “Oh! So you weren't just baiting, you really wanted it. Fine then. Next round! And this time I'm not going to chicken out in victory, you hear?”

Malleus is already beaming with joy that you invited him to something. The fact that it's a game only makes him even more excited. Even though he has no idea what game that is. You just explain the rules, that two people eat the same biscuit stick until someone pulls away and that person loses.

“I see. It seems like a simple game to play. But what happens if neither player pulls away?” You decide to respond with: ‘Why don't we play to find out?’ He laughs ans smirks. “Fearless as ever, Child of Man. Are you truly not concerned about what might happen if you withhold information from me? Fu fu. Very well. We shall see how our game ends.”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does it with a loving smile, and tries to take bites the same size as yours. He doesn't want to cheat without knowing it.

When there's only one bite left to finish, he stops, not knowing what to do. So you're the one who ends the game and kisses him.

He is surprised, but doesn't break the kiss, instead he maintains it and deepens it. He carefully puts his arms around you to bring you even closer to him. And then brings one of his hands to your cheek. You can feel him controlling his strength to make sure he doesn't hurt you, even though he wants to hug you tighter.

He breaks the kiss unexpectedly. “I am not hurting you, am I?” He asks slightly concerned. “I am learning to control my strength, but I am afraid I might run the risk of burning you with my breathe.” You say you weren't feeling hot at all, or at least not that kind. “That is other of my concerns. I may not hurt you at first, but if I let myself be carried away... I am not aware if the same thing happens to you, I hope so, but I feel the need to show you through actions like this how much I'm in love with you and that could be...”

You tell him that just as he learned to control his strength, he can learn to moderate other things. And perhaps the best way to do that is to continue training with you, little by little. Maybe with another round of that game?

Silver doesn't know this game, but if you’re willing to explain it to him he will be happy to play with you. You explain the rules except the part about what happens if neither player pulls away. But Silver doesn't remember to ask either and you start the game as soon as he understands the basic rules.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point to the other end for him to bite. He does so and plays as you had explained to him, taking a bite whenever it is his turn. His expression remains the same throughout the game... as always.

When there is only one bite left he stops, confused about what he should do and looks at you, or rather, into your eyes, looking for a hint or something like that. And you decide to be the one to end the game and kiss him.

He is surprised, but does not pull away. He just stays like that the whole time you do. Even though his lips are relaxed, it's as if he simply accepts it and does you the favor of staying there.

You're the one who has to break the kiss, probably disappointed that it seems like he didn't reciprocate.

“What's wrong?” He asks, with the same neutral face as always. “You look sad. Did I do something wrong while playing?” You explain to him, in your own way, that it seemed like the kiss was nothing to him, but he didn't pull away either, so you were confused.

“I failed to express myself again.” He says, now with a slightly disappointed expression. “I'm sorry. I... really enjoyed it.” He smiles for a second and then goes back to being disappointed with himself. “But I didn't know what to do, so I just... let you lead, I think. I understand now that I should have taken some kind of initiative. We could play again if you could give me a second chance? Would you be willing to tutor me in how to express myself to you through a kiss?” He smiles at you again. “I would be very grateful.”

Sebek doesn't even know what game you're talking about and he's already complaining about you wanting to play a silly game with him. But fine, he lets you at least explain the game and the rules.

“Just as I thought, a foolish human game. And it is not even productive as a sport to train the body or an intellectual one to train the brain. Why would I waste something as precious as time playing something like that with you? The game is simply two people eating a biscuit to see who can finish it the fastest. FOOLISH!”

You opened your mouth to correct him and say that that wasn't really the goal, but thinking about it, maybe it was a fun way to convince him to play. So you choose to insinuate that he is so slow at eating that he wouldn't be able to beat a mere human in such a competition.

“WHAT?! You believe you're up to my standards in any kind of physical competition? HA! That's what we're going to see, human.” He says smugly. “Pass me one of those biscuit stick, if you please.”

He's the first one to put the biscuit in his mouth, and he even crosses his arms looking at you with a defiant and cocky look.

You start playing, and quickly, without him noticing in time, he kisses you. But only for like half a second before pulling away in the blink of an eye. “AH! YOU DECEIVED ME!” He says with a serious and offended look but a blush on his face. “This is not a game, it's a trap! AND I FELL FOR IT!”

You ask if he didn't like it, and his blush only deepens. “Th-those weren't my words! Do not distort my speech!” So you ask, with a smirk, if he would play with you one more time. “Very well! We shall play again.” He smirks too. “ And this time I will not pull away! Be warned, human!”

As incredible as it may seem, Lilia doesn't know this game well, but he has heard of it. This is a recent thing for very young people, and as that phase of his life had already passed and Silver was never interested in those things, he ended up never having the opportunity to get to know the game.

You see his eyes light up with amusement and interest as you explain the game. “Khee hee hee, sounds like a simple but fun game.” Then, he smirk with a sly look. “I wonder what happens if neither of us pulls away. I assume you were inviting me to play because you are also interested in finding out? Fu fu. Let's play then. Will you do the honours?”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and Lilia bites the other side. He plays with a cute expression rather than a smug one, probably to make you more comfortable and confident playing. His red gaze can be too penetrating, at least for the first round of the game.

When there is only one bite left to finish, he stops, even if it’s his turn. He wants you to be the one to decide how the game ends.

You take the last bite and kiss him. And now you can feel from his lips that his cute expression has given way to smugness again. He cups your face and deepens the kiss. He is surprisingly (or not) very skilful, so much so that if the kiss were a dance he would certainly be the one guiding it.

And he's the one who breaks the kiss, gently, and gives you a cute smile. “I know I'm irresistible, but let us save some energy for the next rounds, shall we? How many biscuit stick are in the box?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[meatgrinder-0]

something that ive found myself thinking about a lot recently is the loss of autonomy that you have over your identity and what makes you "human" when you die.

(as has been said before by multiple different people) technically ford does not die when he goes through the portal, but as many have said at this point--in a metaphysical way when he goes through the portal he is dead in the eyes of his dimension, so i find in the narrative he experiences a similar loss of his humanity and in the same way that might've occurred with his death, his memory for any that have access to any form of it constructs him into an idea rather than a person.

and really anything can be said and done with him by the people who are still "alive" when this occurs. since he is in all aspects dead people can use him to justify their actions, as a figure in their concepts, and imagine him up to be whoever they want him to be for as long as he remains dead. the audience of course also partook in these same things prior to his reveal by theorizing about what type of person he was or how he might fit into the narrative as a person but to be more specific to examples of this idea in the show is how stan and dipper see ford as an idea.

due to being absent ford had no possible way to influence what stan thought he would want him to do about the portal outside of his existing warnings in his journals so stan is able to twist ford into a justification to work towards opening the portal, and during the length of his work on it according to alex's statements about stan "expecting ford to be weak and in need of help when he came out of the portal" (i feel the likely useless need to say whatever a creator says about their work is always only as canon as one wants it to be but this is worth mentioning here and i think it makes sense contextually within the text) the ford who comes back is so jarring because in his "death" he's become an ideal of what stan wants to see in him to play into his hero fantasy and hopes of earning back his appreciation

and of course as i think about a normal amount of times per day--the duration of the show presents the author as a figure that is wrapped up in a concept of ford while presenting him in a much more mythical format--another one of gravity falls' mysteries. pretty much every main character that isnt stan views him in this mystical light throughout the show with dipper being the prime example and uses the idea of "the author" as a driving force to pursue the questions that the town begs them to ask. there is something to be said about how creators of the show refer to journal 3 as "its own character" in a way that clearly separates it from it's author. even outside of the universe of the show itself, even in the show's own writing team ford--somehow despite being already being only a concept by virtue of being fictional--is stripped of humanity and becomes an even further abstracted concept.

but even to the ford who is alive the self who had gone through the portal is also a concept. i know this idea isnt explored much in canon if at all but bear with me here while i make shit up for fun--in a way, we ourselves the way we are now are dying near constantly. when we wake up each morning we of course have access to the same memories and the same body and the same experiences as the self we were before we fell asleep, but if we were to get existential, how can we be sure that we are the same consciousness that we were before?

even if this is a bit too absurd of a concept to be applying to a messy braindump "analysis" of a fictional character theres something about how extreme change in a person (often from trauma as ford has experienced for Obvious reasons) or even just the passage of time leaves the former self as nothing more but a memory to even the body that it once inhabited.

as i said theres not much to connect this to in the canon of the text, but i do believe that ford does see his past self who wrote the journals as an idea just as much as anyone else in his life did.

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

Christmas Day with You

Captain Curly

You and him baking sugar cookies in matching aprons? Peak domestic fluff His apron said "Sugar Daddy," and yours? "Daddy’s Sugary Snacc"

Yeah, that was all his idea. He couldn’t stop showing them off, grinning ear to ear, parading them around Walmart like it was a fashion show.

Meanwhile, you were just trying to hunt down all the ingredients in peace, but nope, he had to follow you around, flaunting those aprons.

After a war of flours, you successfully conjured up a decent batch

You had to use actual physical restraint to stop him from adding Vegemite to the cookies. The audacity. And when he ate one, took a full spoonful of it, and moaned?? Yeah, a monster

He’s obsessed with ski or any snow sport video game and always teases you for being a noob. But it’s all in good fun—he’s learned his lesson after the Mario Kart Incident that shall never be mentioned again

"Sweetheart, you’re gonna twist your joint with that posture—"

"Hush! You just wanna win gold again. Stop tempting me, you tall, handsome, bulky-ass demon"

Naturally, your competitive streak kicked in and, somehow, you ended up twisting your ankle

He played the role of nurse, cold compress in hand, sneaking kisses to your ankle because “it speeds up healing” (and also because he’s a shameless flirt who’ll use any excuse to be touchy)

You both gave up on the active stuff and just settled in for a holiday romcom. Of course, you both passed out halfway through

Nurse Anya

You made sure the fireplace was stacked to the brim with firewood because Anya + cozy fire = Christmas must

Your tradition? Her reading a book with her legs propped up on your thighs while you either watch your favorite YouTube videos or game

She’d be all serious about the book, but every now and then, she’d peek over at your screen, giggling at your reactions, but pretending like she was still super into the book

"What did he even trip on? Hell no, he deserved more than just getting skinned alive"

“Y/N, sweetie, natural selection. The weak always get eliminated”

"Mmm, makes sense"

When the clock hit a certain hour, it was handwritten letter time. Instead of gifts, you both wrote love letters to each other. This started when she told you how she re-read your first love letter whenever she got stuck on months long of hauls as a crew nurse

"Yeah, sorry, Anya. No letter this year"

"What? Bu—"

"Because you’re not getting back on that claustrophobic flying submarine this time"

Knowing how much she wanted to enter med school, you gave her the ultimate gift: fully paid tuition for a six-month medicine review center. You’d worked all year for it, and seeing her reaction made every second of it worth it

It was the first time you saw her cry. Anya, who’s always calm and composed, was sobbing in your arms, and it just wrecked you with love. You hugged her tighter, not sure who was more emotional at that point

"Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me"

Intern Daisuke

He planned the perfect Christmas adventure, complete with bullet points, timestamps, and color-coded charts. You had to give him credit for actually being organized for once—he really took his Christmas plans seriously

But, of course, the Christmas spirit was clearly not on his side this time. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong:

Alarm didn’t go off

There was a traffic jam due to a fender bender

Your favorite thrift store? Closed for maintenance

Even the skating rink shut down after some bizarre oil spill caused a dogpile (like, how does that even happen?)

By the end of the day, you weren’t mad at all, just hungry. And somehow, Daisuke turned every misfortune into something you both would be giggling about

You both bought GIGANTIC mugs at Walmart that read, “The Grinch pales at my naughtiness.” They were immediately used to create the world’s sickest hot chocolate, piled with as equally large marshmallows and a diabetes-inducing amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Daisuke was relentless in roasting the Grinch—he couldn’t stop hating on that movie.

“Who even hates Christmas? It’s the grand finale of the year! Absolute loser behavior.”

Mechanic Swansea

Christmas in the garage, for short, his sanctuary. The man thought of everything: fully insulated it, brought in a heater, all just to make sure you were warm and comfy while you both worked

Both of you had this wordless agreement to work on woodcrafts for Christmas. He taught you the basics of woodworking and you proved yourself to be a modern abstract Picasso. You improved throughout the years, tho. Your pieces? From abstract Picasso to expressionism Picasso

He loves carving because it gives him the perfect excuse to sit right behind you, guiding your hands with his. His big teddy bear frame is all around you, and something about that just hits him deeply. Like when he knows you’re safe and protected in his arms. And your eagerness to learn and follow his moves. He melts.

Naturally, you got a splinter, triggering his fierce Tsundere side

“What did I tell you about not rubbing fresh-cut wood? Keep this up, and I’ll just have you sit on my lap while I do your work for you.”

But underneath all that scolding, you could see his silent panic. He just hides behind transparent glass

"Stop smiling at me like that, you clumsy goof"

After crafting a spoon with a thirty-degree angled handle and an awkward head (he still called it perfect, of course), he whipped up his signature paella

Somehow, despite having eaten a thousand spoonfuls of it over the years, you still weren’t tired of it

Co-pilot Jimmy

Jimmy’s not really one for celebrating Christmas. Not bitter about it or anything, but he just treated it like any normal day. That all changed, though, when he realized that Christmas was your thing.

“Babe, why Christmas?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure. But you know how, when we were kids, there’s that feeling of excitement, like when Christmas is coming and you can’t stop smiling? It just brings all that back, and suddenly, you feel like a kid again. So I guess, it’s just nostalgia, huh?”

He never really thought about it that way before. After all, his goal as a kid was always to grow up faster than everyone else.

So, you took it upon yourself to share all your favorite Christmas traditions with him, hoping to bring a little of that magic into his world:

Decorating your tree? He suggested replacing the star with an angel figurine... with your printed face glued on it. (Naturally, he followed through after you both went to bed, sneaking up to do it.)

Making a gingerbread house? He blocked the chimney, and when you asked why… well, he said it best:

“I don’t want some fat bastard breaking in, he’d eat the entire damn house”

By Christmas Eve, looking around his once-bare apartment, now filled with colors he didn’t even know existed, he couldn’t stop that tugging in his heart. He didn’t even realize how much of his childhood was missing until now.

You were patching up his unhealed wounds with your bandaids, and he didn’t even notice until it was too late. He's down bad

a/n: I know it's late T.T, but here's the crew having some holiday break... future angst coming up with curly and you (sorry)

also p.s. english ain't my first language, so i kinda felt like my whole headcanon writing abilities were crap... but these somehow are the top liked posts soooo... future HCs comin' down your way

[kinardsevan]

What is your opinion on Tommy coming back or not? And in they case we see him again, do you think it’ll be just for closure (ex: Abby in season 3) or maybe for a BuckTommy second chance?

fun fact: i was considering doing an entire breakdown with a bunch of Oliver's interviews from the start of this arc until now to point to my opinion:

Tommy is coming back. The romcom theme is still in effect, and we're only about midway through the 3rd act.

Long story short (and without sources right now), I think that the interviews were actuallly pointing in this direction with the wording for a hot second. We have OS telling us that he thinks the best relationships have a "will they, won't they" bit where the audience and the characters are pining. We've seen this play out on the show. And we also have to remember that Oli knew during this interview that the breakup was coming. We also have the interview (I believe it was the Decider one I linked last week) where he mentions choosing to fight for the relationship or not. I feel like a lot of people have taken the context of that and twisted it into "they didn't do it right away, so they're not going to". Except, there's ANOTHER quote of relevance, which is Oliver talking about how Buck's queerness isn't tied to Tommy or Eddie, and only to himself.

Obviously, there have been things said since 806 that would point towards me being delulu, except, here's the issue: TM, OS and LFJr are NOT going to tell us that Tommy is coming back if that's the intention. It would spoil the surprise of it all, and the win of it all. What fun is there in that? What TM has said is that Tommy is Buck's romantic past but that doesn't mean he won't turn up again in the future (all relevant and true facts which do not shut down a reconciliation). Lou never out-and-out said he was done with the show. He's said time and time again that he wants to come back. TM has mentioned Tommy coming around again. OS literally said in an interview "they may run into each other on scene and have it be awkward".

Now obviously we don't actually have the full story with how things went down and the show decided to go with splitting the boys up. I think the fact that Lou has called out the bullying but says he wants to come back suggests that it wasn't him saying it was too much. I have two theories that could honestly run concurrent with one another:

Evan and Tommy break up in 806 at the end of the episode. With 911 having 18 episode seasons, this quite literally only makes up the first third of the season. It set up the beginning of the year for us. We're now two episodes into the second part of the season with a pretty clear idea of where the next three will go and suggestions (by fans, nothing official) that the "soonest" we could see LFJr again is 812. This is reasonable, as it would be the end of the middle of the season. Knowing that TM has suggested he might do a multi-episode season finale, pushing LFJr back into the show in 812 (or even the end of 811 if we go with my theory that Eddie could possibly leave around this time and Tommy helps them pack up/his and Buck's first time spending time around each other again), there would still likely be something around this time period that would be around when they would open the doors to this. As it is, we know that 809 and 810 go together, and then we'd have 811 to really flesh out the end of Buck's fling. I think there's even more possibility of LFJr being in this episode as well because if the plan is to bring them back together (which everything has been suggested so far ON screen in terms of keeping Tommy "in" the story), three-episode arc gives us several things: a. it allows the show to make the point that Buck's queerness is not intrinsically attached to Tommy; that his interest in men is as equal as he know his interest in women is. b. it gives them the ability to also show that his feelings for Tommy are not based in Tommy being his "first", or Evan needing to "discover" more about himself. They're in love with each other, and the show has given us the pieces for that. LFJr has acknowledged it in an interview, Tommy loves Buck. We also know that Tommy's line to Evan is "you'd end up breaking my heart, and I don't think I could deal with that". When I hear that sentence, what I'm actually hearing is "I'm already in love with you, and if I let myself fall more in love with you by being with you every day all the time and this ends, I won't survive it". By relation, we have Josh ask Buck if he loves Tommy and Buck waffles, but I think this has more to do with his lack of understanding of what a healthy love is in a relationship, given his past relationships. He never got to tell Abby. Ali left. and saying I love you to Taylor wasn't about the core of actually being in love with her, which I think is another important piece for BuckTommy: they don't just love each other, they're in love with each other. Still, sometimes it's hard to quantify that feeling, and I think (as I've referenced before), for Evan it was easier to ask Tommy to share a living space with him than to share how he feels about him because historically, things haven't worked out well for him when he's been in love outwardly. Further, the questions Josh asks Evan are directly correlated with loving someone, and Evan answers yes to all of them. (I don't think I need to add this, but he also sees a future with Tommy, talks about being engaged or married. He's serious about Tommy in a way he never has been before.)

There's also the theory that the breakup happened because of scheduling conflicts. Now obviously the show could've found other ways to work around LFJr's scheduling issues by having Tommy go on a trip or what-have-you, but let's remember OTHER things that have been said by OS in prior interviews: a. back in June, he did an interview where he stated that he wanted and hoped that BuckTommy would go through issues that couples normally go through in their first year together. He wanted normal issues. This storyline IS normal. b. he didn't want to repeat Tarlos. By the very definition of what the show is doing right now, we're not. Tarlos and BuckTommy are their own things with their own reasonings.

One of the other things I also keep being pulled back to is these issues: first of all, we know how LFJr plays with the 911 demo, given that they got to see it last season. It's why he was written into more episodes after his initial four episode arc and brought back. ABC has also used BuckTommy in their own adverts, which suggests that they are very supportive of the relationship continuing because it draws in viewers. Truly giving that up for good feels like dousing yourself in gasoline and then considering striking a match. Second, people also keep calling out that TM only plans a few weeks in advance. I believe this is true with story beats. We know that the writers room has a general idea on character arcs, thanks to some of the discussion on the cheese page post-806. I really struggle to believe that TM didn't know going into going forward with the breakup whether or not he wanted to bring LFJr back. We know he waffled back and forth on the idea of the breakup, meaning he probably had other solutions on his mind for whatever LFJr's schedule needed adjusting for, and this is what he decided on. Also, even if 8b hasn't been broken down yet (we know it hasn't), they would still know at this point what they do or don't want, what their ideas might be. Solidification for why Tommy should be brought back is directly shown in the reaction by the GA and the fandom to the breakup. They may not know exactly how that reunion happens yet, but what they have suggested is that Buck's new relationship will be short-lived. That he's using it to cope. We also know he's still processing the break-up and still misses Tommy. These are all things that point to the story not being over. Plus, I feel (once again), if the story really was over and they didn't have plans to continue this in 8b, LFJr wouldn't be talking about wanting to go back. It be far more "yeah that sucked, but it's over now and what can you do? I'm off to this new show and I'll never be back." (I've commented also on the fact that the fangirlish interview comment about his "i'm going here, doing this, have some opportunities" statement is very run-of-the-mill. Obvs I could mean something. Or it could literally just be a canned answer.) (This might feel a little off-center, but I think his commentary on trusting TM and knowing what he's doing in one of his post-806 interviews directly suggests that he believes the story is going to be handled properly.)

I realize at the end of the day, all of what I'm piecing together could mean zilch and Tommy could possibly never come back. They could truly just drop the story and never circle back around, set fire to a beautiful arc and lose thousands (possibly millions) of viewers. I've certainly suggested myself being one of them. But I don't see BuckTommy only getting an Abby fix for two reasons. LFJr wants to come back and continue the story, and Connie Britton only ever intended to do one season. Also, the fling has been called out as being planned to be short-lived. Why bother mentioning that if you don't have other plans for the story.

The last thing I'll leave you with is my commentary from the interview Oli and Aisha did with the guy from Chicago. That reporter obviously liked the BuckTommy storyline and said he's choosing to believe that the relationship is paused, not over. By relation, we had Oliver say three things: (1 and 2) Buck is still looking for love, both in himself and with another person. (3)The season is only half over. Circle that back to 806-808. Buck is finding love in himself by dealing with it in a healthy way (so far) with the baking. We've also seen the "cracks" Oli mentioned with his continued urge to want to text Tommy, as well as him fighting it off by baking (referencing the "pendulum swinging"). Looking for love in others will likely be this arc where he tries to deal/move on. I feel like we collectively watched the end of 806, and then 807 and 808 yelling at the TV "you're in love with him, piece it together already!" (or maybe that was just me???). But truly, whether it's a fling, his therapist, or Bobby/Maddie/Eddie who finally spells it out of or him, I think there will be a point at which we see that come to fruition. The seeds were sewn in for it in the scene with Josh. Now it's just about watching those seeds sprout.

Final note: we've had a good run up to this point with these two. Did we truly thing that the honeymoon phase would last forever? (I didn't. Conflict and the pink bubble popping have to happen eventually.) If we really want to suggest that what BuckTommy has is real, they have to go through this and come out the other side. I think everyone is justifiably frustrated due to the 4 month wait on new episodes (I personally would not have left people hanging quite like this, but that's just me), but the narrative does lead us toward what the show is doing with the suggestion that it does have a natural (and good) conclusion. (Possibly with a helicopter/truck/jeep crash?!)

And just as my singularly LAST note, here's my other thing: Evan and Tommy both have abandonment issues. (Tommy's are clear based on the break up and we know Buck's.) By that correlation, when these two finally get back together, they're never going to fucking let the other go.

(This was so much longer than I intended it to be, but that's my answer 😂😂😂😂😂😂)

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch9

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: SMUT! profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity, smut, m!masturbation, jungkooks prince charming live look ! mentions of military service :(, he pulls a dick move and hes selfish ngl. silly dramatic nari as always :) bts involved in this one yall. jungkook is really into oc its so sweet :( we get an insight of jungkooks pov for this oke guys:)

smut warnings: m!masturbation, detailed description of what he imagines, edging, he imagines fucking oc raw.

wc: idk guys sorry i aint checking HAHA

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020

a/n: can someone tell me if wc is important? or if theres any quick way of checking lmao. anyways! they will fuck soon i promise 😔😔 but i need that extra tension. AS ALWAYS TY FOR READING MY LOVES AND CMNT WHAT U THINK !! also i genuinely hate writing fics where theres like the whole of bts, its so confusing so im sorry if this is shit (specifically when they come into play)

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The second Nari picks up the call, you regret it.

“Don’t tell me—” She cuts herself off, then gasps. “Oh my God.”

You frown, shifting under your blanket. “What?”

“You’re calling me first thing in the morning,” she accuses. “That means something happened. Something.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s a reach.”

“No, it’s called knowing you,” she retorts. “And you sound weird.”

You pause. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know. Suspicious. Like you’re hiding something.”

Your stomach twists. “I’m not.”

Nari hums. “Okay. So you’re telling me nothing happened after I left?”

You freeze.

She gasps so loudly you nearly drop your phone.

“NO FUCKING WAY.”

You wince. “Nari—”

“You’re telling me I left you alone with Jeon Jungkook and something happened?!”

You grip your blanket tighter. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t deny it!” She shrieks. “WHAT HAPPENED?”

You hesitate, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “Nothing crazy—”

She gasps again. “OH MY GOD. DID YOU FINALLY KISS?!”

Your breath hitches.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU KISSED.”

“Nari, please—”

“NO, DON’T ‘NARI’ ME. YOU MEAN TO TELL ME I WENT HOME THINKING YOU TWO JUST HAD A FUN LITTLE DRINKING SESSION AND MEANWHILE YOU WERE OUT HERE—” She stops. Then gasps again. “WAIT.”

Your stomach flips.

“DID HE SLEEP OVER?”

You freeze.

“NO.” Nari’s voice drops an octave. “No fucking way. You’re lying. You have to be lying.”

You press your lips together.

“HE STAYED OVER?!”

You groan, flopping back onto your pillow. “Nari—”

“I CAN’T BREATHE.” She’s full-on wheezing. “JEON JUNGKOOK STAYED OVER AT YOUR APARTMENT AND I HAD NO IDEA?”

“You were gone!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!”

“You were gone! And i didn’t wanna disrupt your beauty sleep, you would’ve shouted at me over the phone!” you repeat, exasperated.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m okay.”

You don’t believe her.

“…Did you…cuddle?”

You want to hang up the phone.

Your silence makes Nari gasp dramatically again.

“YOU FUCKING CUDDLED?!”

“Okay, chill,” you groan, rubbing your temple. “Can I talk now?”

“Oh, please do. I’m dying over here.”

You exhale, sinking into your pillow. “I don’t even know how it happened,” you mumble. “Like, I just… I fell asleep after i showered. And at some point, I felt him move, like—adjusting me or something. And then next thing I know, I wake up, and I’m like face to face with him.”

Nari gasps again. “Like REAL CLOSE?! Chest to chest?!”

You make a strangled noise. “Yes, Nari.”

“Oh my God.” She sounds like she might pass out. “And he let you stay there?”

“…I- he pulled me on top of him, actually.”

A scream. A full-blown, ear-shattering scream.

“Nari, what the fuck?!”

“I CAN’T HELP IT!” she yells. “HE PULLED YOU ON HIS LAP?”

You sigh. “I guess?”

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD—”

“Okay, but that’s not the point,” you say quickly before she combusts again.

“Not the point? Not the point?!”

You ignore her. “I, um…” You hesitate, voice dropping. “After- We did stuff-.”

Silence. Then—

“…stuff?” Nari repeats, suddenly way too serious.

You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

Her breathing stutters. “…Wait. Wait. Are you telling me—YOU FUCKED?!”

“NO- WE DIDN’T LIKE- We didnt fuck fuck- Ugh! I’m not telling you anything.”

“OH MY GOD.”

You groan. “It wasn’t—”

“NO, SHUT UP, DON’T DOWNPLAY THIS.” She takes a shaky breath. “You mean to tell me HE ATE YOU OUT?!”

“Nari, I swear to God,” you hiss.

She lets out a wheezy laugh. “Oh, you nasty bitch.”

You bury your face in your hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me,” she sings. “So? How was it?”

You nearly throw your phone across the room. “I am not talking about this.”

“Ugh, fine,” she whines. “But holy shit, I cannot believe this. I go home for a few hours and you have a whole-ass wattpadd moment.”

You groan, but your lips twitch slightly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she suddenly cuts in. “So he stayed the whole night? And then you fell asleep, and then he… ate you out in the morning?”

You pause. “Yeah.”

Another gasp. “OH MY GOD?”

“I mean, I fell asleep again, after- y’know.” you admit. “And then when I woke up, he was still there.”

Nari sounds breathless. “What was he doing?”

“…Making breakfast.”

Dead silence.

Then— “I need to sit down.”

“You are sitting down.”

“I NEED TO SIT DOWN.”

You chuckle. “He made toast.”

A groan. “Of course he did.”

You bite your lip. “And coffee.”

“Stop.”

“…And eggs.”

“STOP.”

You grin. “And—”

You laugh. “Okay, okay.”

Nari lets out a strangled noise. “I hate you.”

You smile. “No, you love me.”

You’re still smiling when something clicks in your mind. Your brows furrow as you glance at your clock.

“…Wait a second.”

“What?” Nari sounds way too innocent.

Your eyes narrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Silence.

“…About that.”

You sit up. “Nari.”

She groans. “I was too hungover, okay?”

You snort. “Seriously?”

“Listen, I woke up feeling like I got run over by a truck,” she whines. “I texted our boss and said I had food poisoning or something.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so irresponsible.”

“Says the girl who spent the night wrapped around Jeon Jungkook,” she fires back.

Your face burns. “That is not the same thing.”

She hums. “Still. I bet you’re glad I left, though.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Nari gasps. “OH MY GOD, YOU ARE!”

You groan, falling back against your pillows. “Shut up.”

“I knew it!” she cackles. “You were probably praying for me to go.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I was totally thinking about you while Jungkook was—”

She screeches.

You grin. “That’s what I thought.”

——

The car hums beneath his hands as he grips the steering wheel, parked along the edge of a quiet field just outside the city. It’s tucked away, the kind of place only locals really know about, where the noise of Seoul fades into something softer. The air is crisp, the last remnants of summer clinging to the wind, but the sky is clear.

He rolls the window down, just enough to let the fresh air seep in. The scent of damp earth, of grass still waking up from the cold, fills his lungs. For a while, he just sits there, one hand resting against his lips, thumb idly brushing over his lower lip as he watches the world move without him.

A few people are out—an old couple sitting on a bench, their hands intertwined, sharing a quiet conversation. A man in a business suit walks by with a coffee in hand, talking on the phone. A little kid, bundled up in a puffy jacket, tugs at his mother’s sleeve, pointing excitedly at a stray cat slinking across the pavement.

Jungkook watches it all, soaking in the normalcy, the way life just happens when no one’s watching.

It reminds him of you.

Being with you felt like this. Uncomplicated. Quiet, but not empty. Like he could exist without having to perform. He’d always loved moments like this—quiet drives, empty streets at night, the peace of being alone—but now, for the first time in a long time, he finds himself wanting someone in that space with him.

His fingers drum against the steering wheel. He doesn’t want to leave just yet, but time keeps moving, the sun blazing brighter than ever, pulling him back into reality.

With a sigh, he finally starts the engine and heads home.

It’s nearly 1 PM when Jungkook finally steps into his apartment. The place is still, save for the soft sound of Bam’s tail thumping against the floor as he trots over to greet him.

“Hey, bamie,” Jungkook murmurs, crouching to scratch behind his ears. Bam sniffs at his jacket like he’s checking where he’s been, then huffs as if unimpressed.

From the couch, there’s a groan. “You’re finally home?”

Jungkook glances up to see Taehyung sprawled out across the cushions, blanket half-draped over his legs, hair sticking up in every direction. His eyes are barely open, like he’s debating whether it’s worth waking up or not.

“You still here?” Jungkook counters, kicking off his shoes. Jungkook feels bad, not expecting Taehyung to have stayed the whole night, he thinks he might have even stayed up until the morning, but he also knows he might’ve got carried away with some random documentary on his phone.

Taehyung grunts. “You left me with your child. He’s needy.”

Jungkook scoffs, rubbing Bam’s head before standing. “You love him.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taehyung finally sits up, stretching with a yawn. “You look suspiciously happy for someone who made me do unpaid babysitting at stupid time- AM.” He squints at Jungkook. “Should I even ask?”

Jungkook hesitates, then sighs, plopping down beside him. “I really like her, hyung.”

Taehyung raises a brow, suddenly more awake. “Oh?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… different. She’s different.” Jungkook rubs his neck, looking down at his hands. “It’s not like before.”

Taehyung hums, studying him. “Different how?”

Jungkook exhales, leaning back. His mind flickers to you—the warmth of your skin against his last night, the way you’d looked half-asleep in the morning, the way you didn’t treat him like he was anything more than just a guy you liked being around.

“I don’t feel like I have to—pretend, you know?” He admits.

Taehyung nods slowly. Then, after a beat, he tilts his head. “That’s great, im happy for you, but… you know how this goes.”

Jungkook frowns. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Just—be careful. You get caught up in things fast, and—”

“She’s not like that,” Jungkook cuts in, voice firmer than he intended.

Taehyung blinks, then raises his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t saying she was.”

Jungkook exhales, shaking his head. “I know. Sorry. I just—” He sighs. “She’s really not like that, I promise.”

Taehyung watches him for a second, then smirks. “Damn. You’re in deep, huh?”

Jungkook groans, rubbing his face.

Taehyung laughs, standing up. “Alright, loverboy. One day, everyone’s gonna have to meet this mystery girl.”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes as Taehyung grabs his jacket.

“Later,” Taehyung calls before heading out.

The apartment is quiet again.

Jungkook lets out a breath, staring at the door Taehyung just left through. After a second, he looks down at Bam, who’s sitting patiently at his feet, ears perked up.

“What?” Jungkook mutters.

Bam blinks.

Jungkook sighs, ruffling his fur. “I know, I know. I should’ve just said thanks and shut up. But he doesn’t get it, okay?”

Bam tilts his head.

Jungkook groans, flopping onto the couch. “I can’t believe I’m explaining myself to you.”

Bam licks his knee.

Jungkook sighs again, rubbing his temples. “This is humiliating.”

His phone buzzes.

A message from Taehyung: btw we have a meeting in like 2 hrs lmao good luck

Jungkook groans, dropping his head back against the couch. He types out a quick reply—fuck im so tired i completely forgot—before opening your chat.

This time, he doesn’t hesitate.

Jungkook: im home. hru, tired?

He barely locks his phone before it vibrates in his hand again.

Y/N: im good, so tired tho. u should sleep

Jungkook huffs out a quiet laugh. He could reply, could tease you about how fast you answered, but he knows himself—if he starts texting you now, he won’t stop.

And he actually has shit to do.

So instead, he pockets his phone and drags himself up. He’s got about two hours before the meeting, and he still needs to shower and change before he inevitably gets lectured for something.

Jungkook’s body feels sore from a grueling workout session that ran longer than he expected. His apartment’s little gym is nothing fancy, but it gets the job done. The weights clinked, the elliptical hummed quietly, and before he knew it, he’d spent the last hour and a half completely absorbed, working his muscles until they burned. He barely noticed the time ticking by as he focused on the reps, each one pushing him a little further. But now, as he stands in front of the bathroom mirror, it’s clear—he’s running late.

Cursing under his breath, he hops into the shower, the hot water almost making him forget his rush. He’s still fighting the fog in his head as he throws on a clean outfit and grabs his keys. The high-rise building where the meeting is being held is only a short drive away, but the clock is ticking, and the last thing he wants is to be the guy who keeps everyone waiting.

Driving through the city, the streets blur as his mind drifts briefly to other things—like you. He can’t quite shake the feeling of what it’s like when you’re together, the way you look at him with that honest, unassuming gaze. He wonders how much you know about him, about everything he’s caught up in. And as much as he’d love to reminisce about you all day, there’s no time for that right now.

He pulls into the parking garage with only minutes to spare. As he walks into the building, he hears the buzz of conversation coming from the conference room, his members already waiting. The manager hasn’t arrived yet, and everyone seems in a rare moment of peace.

His steps were brisk as he made his way through the halls, past glass-walled offices where staff were busy with their own schedules. The sound of his sneakers against the polished floor was barely noticeable under the hum of quiet conversations, ringing phones, and the occasional clack of keyboards.

He was late. Not by much, maybe five minutes, but enough that he felt a twinge of guilt as he approached the meeting room. He should’ve left earlier.

But time had slipped through his fingers.

As he reached for the handle, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out and saw your name on the screen—no new message, just the last one you had sent earlier:

You: im good, so tired tho. u should sleep

Jungkook hesitated for a second before finally typing out a reply.

Jungkook: Can’t sleep in the middle of the day for some reason, but im on the way to a meeting now :)”

His thumb hovered over the keyboard, and without thinking, he started to type—

Jungkook: Are you free tonight?

He paused. Then, with a quiet sigh, he deletes the last part and hits send.

Maybe you had plans with Nari. Maybe he was overstepping. He didn’t want to be too much.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he took a breath and finally stepped inside.

The room was loud.

Not in a chaotic way—just in the way that happened whenever they were all together. Conversations overlapped, laughter sparked in different corners, and there was an easy kind of energy that made it feel like they hadn’t been apart for weeks.

Jungkook’s arrival didn’t go unnoticed.

“Look who finally decided to show up.”

He barely had time to sit before Jin made a show of checking his nonexistent watch. Across from him, J-Hope grinned, nudging Jimin, who snickered into his palm.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, dropping into his seat. “Hyung, you don’t even wear a watch.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re late,” Jin shot back, smirking.

Taehyung, seated beside him, simply raised a brow. “Long gym session?”

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he reached for a bottle of water from the table. “Something like that.”

He twisted the cap off, taking a sip just as Yoongi—who had been quiet up until now—spoke up without looking up from his phone.

“Was it really the gym,” he mused, voice dry, “or were you occupied with something else?”

That earned a few oooh’s from around the table. Jungkook nearly choked on his water.

“Oh, come on,” Jimin laughed, leaning his chin in his hand. “It’s been weeks since we’ve all been together, and we’re just now hearing about this?”

Jungkook groaned. “There’s nothing to hear about.”

“That’s a lie,” Taehyung said casually.

Jungkook snapped his head toward him, eyes narrowing. “Hyung.”

But Taehyung just blinked at him innocently, stirring his iced Americano with the straw.

“What? It’s not my fault you told me and no one else.”

“Oh, so Tae knows, but not us?” J-Hope gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. Okay. I see how it is.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, leave him alone. Let’s get started before—”

The door opened again.

Their manager walked in.

Just like that, the teasing stopped.

The energy in the room shifted as the meeting began.

The manager placed a folder down on the table, flipping through it before glancing up. “Alright. Let’s go over schedules.”

One by one, he listed their upcoming projects. Solo albums. Endorsements. Events.

Jungkook listened, though not entirely. His focus drifted slightly, fingers idly pressing against the condensation on his water bottle.

Then— “And Jungkook.”

His attention snapped back.

The manager’s expression was unreadable. “We were supposed to have a meeting about your album’s design a few nights ago. Where were you?”

Jungkook blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

“…What?”

“The meeting,” the manager repeated, tone sharper. “You didn’t show.”

Jungkook frowned, realization hitting him all at once. Shit. He had completely forgotten about that.

“Oh… I don’t know,” he muttered, adjusting his grip on the bottle. “I missed it. Sorry.”

The manager’s jaw tightened. “Seriously?” He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Jungkook, this isn’t the time to be messing around.”

Jungkook felt the shift in the air.

“If this is about something- someone,” the manager continued, voice clipped, “then you need to get your head straight. This is going to be the peak of your career. And after that, you have military service.” His stomach dropped.

The words hit differently this time.

It wasn’t like he had forgotten. He knew what was coming. But hearing it out loud, so bluntly, in a setting like this—

And worst of all—

You didn’t know.

His fingers curled slightly, grip tightening on the water bottle. His jaw clenched, but he kept his face neutral.

“I know what I’m doing,” he said, voice even.

The manager didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push further. The meeting wrapped up soon after, leaving a strange, awkward silence in its wake.

Jungkook didn’t wait around. He pushed his chair back and left the room.

The cool air outside the meeting room felt like a relief.

Jungkook exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. His chest felt tight, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Footsteps approached.

“Mind if I join?”

Jungkook glanced up to see Namjoon.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Go ahead.”

Namjoon leaned against the wall beside him, crossing his arms. He didn’t speak right away, just looked ahead.

Then, finally— “I get where he’s coming from, but I know how this must all feel for you.”

Jungkook scoffed lightly. “Of course you do.”

Namjoon smiled slightly, but his tone was serious. “You do need to be careful, though.”

Jungkook sighed. “I know.”

A pause.

Then—

“Does she know?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Know what?”

Namjoon turned his head toward him. “That you’ll be away for a long time soon, enlistment?”

Jungkook’s chest tightened. His fingers curled slightly. “No.”

Namjoon hummed, then said, “You need to tell her.”

Jungkook looked down. His voice was quiet.

“I don’t know how.”

A moment passed. Then, finally—

“I don’t want risk losing what we have.”

“It’s better to risk, than to hurt someone.”

And that was the part that scared him the most.

Dinner stretches on longer than Jungkook expected, everyone having opted for a small ramen place near the building where noone really goes, but he doesn’t mind. It’s been a while since they’ve all sat down together like this, eating, catching up, letting conversations weave in and out naturally. The private room they’re in feels comfortable, tucked away from the world outside. The restaurant is dimly lit, warm with the scent of food and the occasional hum of quiet chatter from other customers outside.

Plates are scattered across the table now, half-empty bowls and used utensils sitting between them, but nobody seems in a rush to leave. The night has been filled with laughter—mostly from Jin’s endless teasing and Hoseok’s dramatic storytelling. Yoongi is quiet as always, listening more than speaking, and Namjoon occasionally chimes in with something insightful that makes them all pause for a second before someone cracks a joke to lighten the mood again.

And then, naturally, the conversation shifts to him.

It starts small. Jimin makes a passing comment about how Jungkook has been glued to his phone more than usual, and Hoseok is quick to add in something about his suspiciously frequent disappearances from the studio.

“Come on, we all see it,” Jin says, grinning as he gestures toward him with his chopsticks. “Our maknae’s been busy with something—or that someone.”

Jungkook groans, leaning back in his seat as Taehyung smirks knowingly. It was bound to come up at some point. And honestly, he doesn’t really mind. Maybe a few years ago, he would’ve deflected more, kept everything to himself, but things are different now.

So, he tells them. Not everything, not every little detail, but enough for them to understand that there’s someone. Someone special.

Taehyung already knows, of course, but the rest of them listen intently. Jimin leans in slightly, a small smile playing on his lips, while Namjoon nods along, his expression thoughtful. Hoseok looks outright excited, and Jin, predictably, looks like he’s about to start grilling him for information.

“She’s just… different,” Jungkook says finally, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Different how?” Jin presses, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

Jungkook hesitates for a second, then shrugs. “She doesn’t treat me like everyone else does, you guys would really love her.”

That seems to be enough of an answer for most of them. Namjoon hums knowingly, and Yoongi, who’s been quiet this whole time, finally speaks. “That’s good,” he says simply, nodding in approval.

There are a few more teasing remarks, a couple of playful warnings about being careful, but overall, it’s nothing but support. And it makes Jungkook feel… good. Warm. Like a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying has been lifted just a little.

By the time they finally leave the restaurant, it’s late. The night air is cool against his skin as they step outside, lingering near the entrance as they say their goodbyes. Jungkook pulls out his phone while waiting for the valet to bring his car around, and his chest tightens when he sees your name at the top of his notifications.

Y/N: thats sad, i couldnt imagine not napping during the day.

Y/N: what was your meeting about? was it all good? had fun?

His thumb hovers over the keyboard as he leans against his car, jaw tightening slightly.

The meeting.

It wasn’t just about schedules or the album. It was a stupid reminder about his enlistment.

His stomach twists. He should tell you. You deserve to know. But not now. Not like this. Not when he isn’t even sure how to say it.

He exhales sharply, then types back: Just boring stuff, schedules, touring, to be honest. How was your day?

The night was quiet as he made his way back to his apartment, the only sound coming from the soft hum of his car engine. He didn’t have much else to do—his mind kept drifting back to you. He had seen your messages, and even though his heart had briefly dropped when he read your text, he decided against telling you everything. He’d need time to figure it all out, and he wasn’t sure how to explain the looming shadow of his military service.

Arriving at his place, he tossed his keys onto the table, quickly changing into something comfortable. He sank into his couch, trying to relax. As the night passed, he found himself playing with a few unfinished songs, but his focus wasn’t there. The chords felt distant, detached. His thoughts wandered back to you, to the way you’d looked when you smiled at him, to the moment you’d shared that morning… The playful banter, the warmth, everything felt too real. He never thought he’d get this far with someone like you. He wasn’t expecting to feel this way.

His phone buzzes, pulling him out of his thoughts. He quickly glanced at it—there it was, another message from you. You sent a cute little selfie of you cooking, smiling brightly at the camera. His heart softened as he looked at it. It was simple, but to him, it was everything. His day’s mood shifted in an instant, just like that. Your smile, your warmth—it made everything feel… right.

He opens it without thinking, and his heart immediately softens.

It’s you, standing in your kitchen, a gentle smile on your lips as you stir something over the stove. The caption reads: should’ve been hired as a chef rather than a waitress tbh

Jungkook huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as warmth spreads through his chest.

God, you’re cute.

The stress from earlier, the weight of the meeting, the pressure of everything he hasn’t told you—it all fades, just for a moment. And he lets himself enjoy it.

It was strange, how quickly everything had changed between the two of you. He’d been trying to keep it light, but it was clear now—it wasn’t just a fling, at least not for him. He liked you. He liked you a lot.

He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in his mind. The moments—small, but so significant. The touch of your hand, the way you laughed, the way his heart had raced when you’d kissed. He thought back to the morning—how natural it had felt, how his body had instinctively responded to yours. The way you fit against him, the quiet intimacy. He hadn’t expected things to get so… deep. But it did. And he was glad it did.

But with every passing moment, the truth loomed in the back of his mind: he had to tell you. The military service was coming, and he couldn’t keep running from it. But for now, he needed to focus on you, on what this was.

Was he ready for all that came with it? Would you be? You’d had conversations mentioning this topic, but he’s not entirely sure of it all.

With a sigh, he sends a quick reply, trying to act normal, but his heart was pounding in his chest.

Jungkook: you look pretty

Jungkook: should cook for me soon

He couldn’t help but smile at his own words.

He laid back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling once again, lost in thought. He really couldn’t wait to see you again.

Jungkook’s basically doing nothing. Trying to unwind after a long day, scrolling through stuff on his phone, but his mind cant help but replay the events from the other night - when he had tasted you for the first time.

The way you pulled his hair, the sweet moans and pleas spilling from your lips...it was seared into his memory. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling a growing hardness in his sweatpants.

With a sigh, he reached down and palmed himself through the fabric, a wave of guilt washing over him at the thought of jerking off to you. But the desire was too strong to resist.

He pulled out his now hard cock, the tip is slippery from all of the precum that’s accumulated, he gasps, stroking it slowly as he replayed the scene in his mind. His other hand reached for his phone, pulling up your selfie.

You’re in the kitchen, pouting at the camera as you prepared dinner, a few strands of hair escaping your ponytail. Jungkook's hand moved faster, picturing you bent over the counter, your shirt hiked up as he fucks his fingers into you from behind.

He imagines the steam from the your sweat fogging up the windows of his apartment, putting on a lewd show for all to see despite the secrecy of…everything.

His balls tightened, the pleasure building in his groin. He closed his eyes, recalling the memory of your underwear drawer from when you had asked him for clothes. A particular pair of light yellow polka dot panties stood out in his mind, and he pictured you wearing them, the fabric stretched taut over your plump ass as he gripped it tightly, leaving red fingerprints in his wake. With a groan, Jungkook grips his cock tighter, edging himself closer to the brink of ecstasy, using your selfie as an aid.

He stroked himself faster, imagining your cries of pleasure echoing in his ears as he fucked you hard against the counter, your tits bouncing with each thrust. The thought of the whole world seeing his every move only heightened his arousal.

He pictured fucking your throat, watching you gag and drool around his thick cock as he pumped in and out of your mouth. The image of you bent over every surface in his apartment, getting fucked raw in every room, sent him over the edge.

With a final gasp, Jungkook came hard, painting his abs with thick ropes of pearly white cum. He collapsed back against the pillows, catching his breath as the waves of pleasure subsided. For now, his craving for you was sated. But he knew it wouldn't be long before he needed another fix.

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, his heartbeat finally steady again, but his body feels too wired for sleep. He sighs, dragging a hand through his messy hair, quickly cleaning up after himself. There’s no way he’s going to be able to fall asleep now—not after everything that just ran through his head.

So he gets up.

The apartment is quiet as he walks out of his bedroom, his feet light against the hardwood floors. He doesn’t bother turning on all the lights, just the warm glow of his purple light on his dining table as he moves to the kitchen. A glass, a bottle of whiskey. He pours himself a drink, the amber liquid catching the dim light as he leans against the counter. The ice clinks when he swirls it around, taking a slow sip, his fingers tapping idly against the side of the glass.

The faint reflection in the window catches his attention. His hair is tousled, the strands falling just right, and the loose white button-up he threw on hangs open slightly at the top, exposing a bit of collarbone. He smirks to himself.

The thought makes him laugh under his breath, shaking his head. He doesn’t even know why he bothered throwing on a shirt—maybe he just didn’t want to feel like a complete mess. The whiskey burns pleasantly in his throat as he makes his way to the dining table, setting the glass down with a quiet thunk.

And then, his phone rings.

Your name flashes on the screen.

His brows lift slightly, caught off guard. You never call first. The corner of his lips twitches as he picks up.

“Hello?” His voice is low, slightly raspy from how little he’s spoken tonight.

“You sound tired,” you note.

He hums, stretching his legs out beneath the table. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

There’s a pause, then you say, “Wait, where are you right now?”

Jungkook glances around his dimly lit apartment. “Dining room. Why?”

“I don’t know, you sound different. Like, echoey or something,” you say. “What are you doing?”

He eyes his whiskey glass before answering, “Just having a drink.”

“Ooh, fancy,” you tease. “Are we celebrating something?”

Jungkook smirks. “Should we be?”

You laugh, and he finds himself leaning into the sound. “Turn your camera on,” you say.

He hesitates for a second before pressing the button, and a moment later, his face fills your screen. His hair is tousled, framing his face in that unfairly perfect way, and the white button-up he’s wearing is undone just enough to be distracting. He’s leaning back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, whiskey glass in hand.

Your eyes narrow. “Jungkook.”

“What?” He raises an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his drink.

“You’re dressed up.”

He snorts. “I’m not dressed up.”

“Yes, you are,” you insist. “White button-up, unbuttoned. Hair all messy but in a way that somehow makes you look better. What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “This is just what I was wearing.”

“Yeah, okay,” you deadpan. “Where’s the lucky lady?”

His smirk falters for a second before he scoffs. “Shut up.”

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s heard all night.

“Turn yours on, wanna see you” he says suddenly, already tapping to the screen of the call.

A second later, your face appears on his screen. You’re curled up on your couch in a hoodie and shorts, your hair slightly messy, like you just woke up.

“You look cozy,” he comments, tilting his head as he studies you.

“Yeah, ‘cause I literally just woke up from a nap,” you say, stretching your arms over your head with a yawn. “That’s why I haven’t replied to you.”

Jungkook exhales, resting his elbow on the table as he props his chin on his hand. “Was wondering where you went,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

Your expression softens for a second before you smirk. “Aw, did you miss me?”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “No.”

“Liar.”

Before he can argue, a movement catches your attention. Your eyes widen. “Wait—is that Bam?”

Jungkook turns slightly, spotting his dog trotting into the frame, tail wagging. He grins. “Yeah, he just woke up, too.”

Bam jumps up, resting his head on Jungkook’s lap. You watch the way Jungkook absentmindedly scratches behind his ears, his expression softening.

“He’s so cute,” you sigh.

Jungkook glances at you through the screen. “You wanna meet him?”

You hesitate. He can see the flicker of contemplation in your eyes, like the thought of going to his apartment wasn’t something you’d really considered before. Your lips part slightly, but you don’t answer right away.

Jungkook watches you carefully. “You don’t have to,” he says after a beat, voice softer.

“No, I just…” You clear your throat. “I guess I never thought about it.”

He nods, letting the subject drop, but he doesn’t miss the way your gaze lingers for a moment longer, like maybe, just maybe, you’re thinking about it now.

And for some reason, that thought makes his chest feel strangely warm.

The conversation shifts naturally into the usual late-night rambling—little stories from your day, his half-teasing but genuine responses. He doesn’t even know what you’re talking about half the time, but he doesn’t care. You could be talking about absolutely nothing, and he’d still want to hear it.

And for the first time that night, he feels at peace.

[joons-cinnamon-bun]

The holiday pretense -1-

Summary: Namjoon has never been a fan of the holidays. In fact, he could list more things that sucked about ‘The most wonderful time of the year’, than things that brought him joy. Yet, beneath his cynicism, a flicker of hope appeared this year, as the faint scent of homesickness hung in the air.

Unfortunately, there’s one tiny little thing that keeps him from calling home- his lack of a girlfriend.

But fear not; this holiday season, Namjoon’s smart mouth gets him in a situation where he has no choice but to approach you- his longtime friend and roommate- with an unexpected request.

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: fake-dating, friends to lovers/roommates to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: every single trope in the book; but with a twist. Dialogue heavy. OC is really bad at lying, anddd… I didn’t write in literal years so yeah, this is gonna be fun. And I know I am literally that meme rn, the: summer is over-skips straight to Christmas. But do you have any idea just how slow I write? Yes. It is a warning. Smut warnings: to be added~ Word count: Chapter 1-9k Credits: this was literally one of those ‘if no one is going to write this, I will’ because there are not enough friends-to-lovers Namjoon fics out there. And none (that I know of) where the main character feels bad for lying to his family when pretending to date him. This work would not have been possible without the very kind and patient @callmenoona25, who not only helped me beta-read but also served as a guiding light during those moments when I wanted to rage-delete everything. Thank you for all your help! (and please keep helping me coz idk what I’d do without your constant encouragement) Author's note: again, I didn't write in 8-ish years, so this is very very scary. Add in a dash of 'English is not my first language' and you get whatever this is. enjoy. Merry Christmas. part 1: reading, part 2: here , part 3: here , part 4: here

Ah winter, the most wonderful time of the year.

The season when the air is crisp, and the city gets blanketed in thick, white snowfall. When the satisfying sound of crunching snow accompanies every step and every word transforms into nothing more than a puff of steam dancing through the chilly air.

When Mariah Carey’s voice echoes in literally every store for an obnoxious 24/7, as if she has some kind of personal vendetta against silence…

When the heating bill increases by 37%, and it takes an extra 15 minutes for the heater to kick in and for the hot water to grace the showerhead. Ergo, Namjoon now has to wake up half an hour early if he wants to take a shower and not freeze half to death during the day, because the landlord was adamant that there was nothing to be done about the situation.

But it wasn’t all bad.

Sure, Namjoon was never one to possess the so-called Christmas spirit. In fact, he was known to be a bit of a grinch among his friends.

Jin, in particular, enjoyed telling anyone who would listen about their first Christmas at college, when Namjoon adamantly refused to help him decorate the tree after begrudgingly lugging it to their shared apartment.

And most years Namjoon’s lack of enthusiasm for the season was palpable. While his friends reveled in the cheerful atmosphere, he somehow managed to remain detached and aloof, his grinch-like demeanor becoming a defining characteristic, much to the amusement of his companions.

However, there were still aspects of the holiday that Namjoon couldn’t help but secretly enjoy. The food, for instance, was undeniably good. Although the movies were mediocre and the music overplayed, he still found himself humming along to Winter Wonderland whenever it played. And the energetic buzz that seized his friends was no doubt contagious;

This year, before he could even process it, he was dubbed designated fairy-light fixer, the judge of the ugly sweater contest (solely because he had the audacity to show up wearing a black hoodie) and somehow promised Jungkook to help him pick up gifts for his mom, his cousin, and girlfriend.

And now, with the holidays looming just around the corner, and the entire city buzzing with chatter about family feasts, romantic rendezvous, and the art of gift-giving, Namjoon couldn't help but feel a little pang of longing. It had been a solid two years since he last set foot in his hometown, and the melancholic urge to return home seemed like the only logical response to it all.

Or maybe he just needed a vacation…

But there was just one thing that kept Namjoon, a logical being, from making that phone call home.

He knew that part of the reason behind his mother’s question was for organizational purposes, yet he couldn’t help but notice the mischievous twinkle in her voice each time she sweetly asked:

“And are you coming alone?”

Few things managed to irk him as much that specific question in that specific context. And even with countless nights analyzing the emotions it stirred within him, Namjoon found himself very stupidly replying with:

“Uhm, no actually-” despite being painfully single, and fully aware of it.

Following that, the hope of regaining any sensible thought was gone as a chorus of ecstatic comments erupted form his mother’s end of the phone. With a hurried, “Can’t wait to see you, yeah, love you too,” he was left in the suffocating silence of his bedroom, with a new predicament he needed to solve.

Now, let’s not forget, Namjoon is no ordinary man. He possesses a brain that could rival Einstein’s, and he knows all too well that he could simply call back and clarify that his plus one is as real as Santa Claus.

But Namjoon doesn’t half-ass anything. He full-asses it.

That and showing up alone would undoubtedly result in his mom’s attempts to play matchmaker. And if he were to show up alone, after lying about it, well, he might as well prepare for an arranged marriage.

Namjoon sighed as he looked at his phone. He couldn’t understand why his mother had this new found obsession with his relationship status. Especially after she witnessed just how bad his last one ended. Now sure, he may have taken the whole ‘healing-era’ to a bit of an extreme, seeing as he had no relationship, no situationship and no inclination to entertain any romantic thoughts whatsoever. But this was getting ridiculous. Lying to his own mother?

Perhaps he could ask his assistant to pretend to be his girlfriend for the week? No, that wouldn’t work. She mentioned she was hosting the Christmas dinner this year. And it would involve more explanations to HR than it’s worth…

And he couldn’t overlook the fact that her fiancé would most certainly not be amused by that idea.

Just as he was about give up and plunge into another rabbit hole of despair, the solution to his problem came accompanied by the familiar sound of glass smashing in the kitchen.

You.

You would be perfect.

Most people already assumed you two were dating, seeing how seamlessly you fit yourself into his life after moving in.

And last he checked you couldn’t make it home because of some pesky law-jargon issues that required your presence at the office. And changing your flight to a few days later cost you an arm and a leg, while changing it to January was completely free.

And last he checked; you were just as chronically single as he was. (He knew because your last date was so disastrous that he had to abandon his gaming night and rescue you from the restaurant).  

Another crash in the kitchen summoned him back into action. Swiftly snatching his hoodie from the designated clothes chair and making his way to you, detouring only to retrieve the medical kit from the bathroom.

He was quick to spot you, still clad in your work attire, crouched besides the counter, diligently sweeping the stray glass shards of what used to be an ugly mug. His eyes involuntarily wondering towards your ass, once again marveling at how flawlessly you wore that office skirt before snapping himself out of it.

“And I believe that evens out the score, seeing as I only broke a plate, and you killed two mugs this season” he declares, ensuring you weren’t bleeding before abandoning the first aid kit on the counter to fetch the trusty vacuum cleaner.

It was standard procedure by now.

“You also managed to break the microwave, so the title remains yours,” you grumble as you rose to your feet, a smile unconsciously tugging at your lips when you caught sight of his charming dimpled face. “Hey there.”

“Hello,” he replied, giving you a swift once-over in case he missed any hidden hemorrhages “what happened?”

“It just jumped out of the cupboard when I opened it,” you gestured towards the dust pan, as if to prove the cup suddenly acquired acrobatic skills before its untimely demise, causing him to break into a grin “I’ll get you a new one.”

“No worries, it was a gift form an ex, and it was hideous anyway.”

As he vacuumed the area, you disposed of the glass, making sure it wouldn’t slice through the trash bag like last time.

Once the kitchen was safe again, you returned to your previous task, grabbing a new cup and casually turning your back to him.

" Do you want to try an unreasonably expensive hot chocolate with me?" you playfully suggested, catching his eye as he noticed the purple tin on the counter, adorned with a big red bow, alongside a very generic Christmas card.

"Secret Santa?" he inquired back, picking up the card, already aware of the answer to your question.

Unconsciously, he began mentally listing reasons why you would make a good fake girlfriend. Topping the list was your uncanny ability to understand him without lengthy explanations. And it was all quite digestible, wasn't it? Two long-time friends and roommates, thrown together by chance, suddenly discovering hidden feelings for each other?

All his friends seemed to have unanimously agreed that the two of you would make a splendid pair, back when you met, when his roommate, Jin, started dating your roommate, Myeong.

 On their inaugural date, Myeong, in a fit of paranoia, asked you to tag along, in case her potential lover turned out to be a serial killer. And Jin, ever the considerate soul, felt compelled to invite Namjoon, not only to spare you the agony of being the third wheel, but also in the hope of pulling Namjoon out of his dating slump. Not that you would ever notice, as you were knee-deep in exam session, sleep deprived and buried in a mountain of law books.

Poor Namjoon somehow ended up carrying the weight of being third and fourth wheel simultaneously.

But you eventually made up for it, once your exams were over and had a proper 18 hours of sleep.

In no time you wiggled your way into his heart, transforming those awkward double dates into enjoyable hangouts. You’d spend countless hours discussing everything from books to the latest plot twists in popular dramas, to sharing dreams, fears and hopes.

As Myeong and Jin’s relationship blossomed, they gradually faded into the background of your outings, until they were eventually excluded all together. And neither of you seemed to mind, as you found it easier to focus on your conversations without their constant chatter.

That and they couldn’t be quiet in movie theatres like decent human beings.

It was during one of these outings that Namjoon realized just how alluring he found you. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed at one of his jokes made his heart race. Your sharp mind and wit were a match made in heaven for him. And your ability to render him speechless was both infuriating and exhilarating.

But Namjoon also knew that you were deeply committed to your studies, and he didn't want to do anything to distract you from your goals. So, he held back, admiring you from a distance and hoping that someday things might be different.

And as time passed, and he graduated, he came to terms with the fact that you two would never be more than casual friends.

Little did he know that the universe had its own wicked sense of humor. When fate decided to play its sly hand and leave you virtually homeless, because your respective roommates decided to take the next step in their relationship and move in together.

It was only logical, then, for the two of you to shack up as well. After all, you were friends, both neat freaks, and most of all, desperately in need of a roommate.

“The roommate switch”, as Jimin so eloquently put it.

And thus began the most wonderful living arrangement Namjoon ever experienced. Not that he would never tell Jin that.

Suddenly, his bathroom cabinet resembled a Bath and Body works store, and your pink pots and pans had taken over his kitchen. But he wouldn’t mind, seeing that the cooking interdiction was extended, once Jin started recounting all the times Namjoon almost turned their previous apartment into a bonfire during your housewarming bash.

However, you never scolded him for his butterfingers because, truth be told, you had your own healthy dose of clumsiness, (the cup chilling in the trash an indisputable witness to it).

It was quite refreshing to find someone who shared his knack for dropping things.

And he made up for all the free meals by taking care of the dishes. He even went above and beyond by meticulously following the odd care instructions for your fancy pots.

And the rest of your household chores fell into perfect harmony.

 He willingly handled all the ironing, including your own, simply because you couldn’t be bothered. In return, you would dutifully clean the lint tray in the dryer, even when it was his turn to do the laundry, because he found it absolutely disgusting, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to gross him out.

It suddenly dawned on him why all his friends were convinced that you two were together. He was smitten with you, after all.

But again, time has worked its magic! His infatuation had been long departed, so he could proceed with his plan and not let it affect your friendship in any way, shape or form!

“You know, I never quite understood the purpose of Secret Santa,” you confessed, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I mean, sure, it makes sense in a small group where you can actually get to know the person and buy them something nice. But in a corporate setting, where you’re thrown together with people from different departments, it makes absolutely no sense!” you spoke with passion, even stirring the milk a little harder, causing an impish smile to dance across his face.

“Because you end up with situations like this, where creepy Greg from the watercooler suddenly feels the need to win my graces and splurge on stupidly expensive hot chocolate.”

Namjoon was familiar with your HR endeavors involving Greg, especially after he hit on one of your colleagues.

“Do you want to know how much this monstrosity costs?” you asked, trying to contain your amusement at the sheer absurdity of it all. Pouring the cocoa into the milk and placing the mugs in front of him, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Surprise me,” Namjoon took a sip, which he regretted because he choked once you answered,

“Sixty dollars!”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous” he coughed, once he regained control of his lungs.

The hot chocolate was nice, but nowhere close to justifying the hefty price tag. For all he knew, it could have been dollar store cocoa. But your contagious laugh made it all worthwhile, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe Greg deserved to lose his Christmas bonus on overpriced cocoa that you both would mock.

“Tastes like cardboard” you concluded after a mouthful, “maybe it was meant for that hideous mug your ex gave you,” you teased, earning a puzzled look. “This has horrible taste,” you tack on, noticing his raised eyebrow “just like your exes.”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended by that,” he replied, feigning offense.

“Well, they did break up with you, so clearly their taste is questionable,” You ruffled his hair as you walked past him, your cocoa abandoned on the table.

This wasn’t uncommon in your friendship. Afterall, you were his biggest supporter, as he was yours. But now, with the odd favor he was about to ask you; he couldn’t help but ponder your words for longer than usual. Until he heard the door to your room close and he realized he was left alone in the kitchen.

“Any updates on that flight of yours?” he asked, shooting a glance towards your door. Perhaps the universe would take pity on him and spare him the embarrassment he was dreading.

“Still in January!” you hollered back, your voice muffled by the commotion in your room.

“Ah, cool, cool…” he muttered under his breath, more to psych himself up and gather the courage needed to go over and make a complete fool of himself.  

“Are you still planning on heading home?” your voice was barely audible amidst the movement, so he walked over and propped himself against your door to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” He replied absentmindedly massaging the back of his neck.

Not unless he can find a girlfriend for the week.  “Hey,” he continued, his voice devoid of any moisture, “can I ask you a favor?”

The door swung open, almost causing him to stumble, to reveal you, wearing pajama bottoms and a black tank top, clutching one of his sweaters.

“Depends.” You answered flatly. “Mind if I borrow this?” you gestured towards the sweater, awaiting his nod of approval before slipping it on and sauntering past him to claim your usual spot on the couch. With your feet cozily tucked under the cushion, you scrolled through your phone, probably looking up another horrible movie you’d force him to watch. Oblivious to the fact that you ticked off another item on his mental checklist: looking damn good in his clothes.

“Okay” he took a deep breath and settled down beside you, his posture impeccable and his gaze fixed on the blank tv screen. You glanced over intrigued by his sudden shift in behavior.

“This is going to be weird, and you can tell me to fuck off any moment this makes you uncomfortable. And I promise I’ll never bring it up again, and we can pretend this never happened,” he stumbled over his words, a stark contrast to his usually calmed and composed demeanor.

Your mind raced, conjuring up the worst-case scenarios as you slowly set aside your phone, captivated by every word leaving his mouth.   

Was he about to kick you out?

That only seemed to aggravate whatever Namjoon was on, as he continued to mumble, insisting that you didn’t have to agree to it if you didn’t want to. Which didn’t make any sense, because if he was going to kick you out, he should at least have the balls to tell you straight forward.

You gently collected his hands, causing him to halt abruptly. His wide eyes finally locked with yours as you softly uttered “Just tell me.” You peered up at him, bracing yourself for the worst, and completely unprepared for what was to follow.

“Will you please do me a solid and pretend to be my girlfriend for a week?” he stammered, unable to maintain eye contact, his voice fading into a whisper towards the end.

“What?”

“I might have told my mom I’m in a relationship, and now I desperately need a stand-in girlfriend for the next few days” he confessed sheepishly, quickly adding, “But seriously, if you’re uncomfortable with this, just say the word and we can erase this whole conversation from existence.”

“Oh my goodness, Namjoon,” you breathed out in relief, a laugh escaping your lips as you rested your head on his lap, leaving him even more perplexed. “I thought you were kicking me out.”

“What?” he chuckled, watching you raise a few seconds later, rubbing your eyes before fixing your gaze on him, contemplating his request.

“How can you be so brilliant and so dumb at the same time? Just call your mom back…”

“No, you don’t get it. I can’t do that. If I do, she’ll set me up with the neighbor’s daughter again” Namjoon explained, clearly not in the right mindset to entertain that idea again.

“You want me to lie to your mother?” you asked incredulously.

“Please don’t phrase it like that.” he covered his face, deflating completely besides you.

“This is essentially what you are asking me to do... I don’t know how that makes me feel. Your mom, by the way, is an absolute sweetheart…” you trailed off, observing him intently as he brushed away the hair in his eyes.

You didn’t get to know her too well, but the last time she visited she made sure to stock up your whole fridge with homecooked meals. And to top it off, she even baked cookies especially for you once Namjoon mentioned he had a new roommate.

The discussion, however, took a bit of an unexpected turn when she realized the roommate was you. A girl and not another frat guy. But she quickly developed a fondness for you. Or at least, that’s what you believed when she gave you the tightest hug goodbye.

“I know. It’s a stupid idea.” He muttered, rubbing his face a bit harder than necessary. Then he locked eyes with you and continued. “I am well aware of how dumb this is. And that is exactly why I need you there with me.” His statement left you dumbfounded, completely unable to find any words. “I just want to go home and relish in the fact that I am there without constantly worrying about being single.” he took a shaky breath before continuing,

 “I can’t comprehend why my mom is so fixated on this matter.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I just need someone to navigate this absurdity with me for the holidays, and then we never mention it again.” 

His little speech left you stunned, and before you knew it, you were actually considering his proposal.

 Your Christmas plan was already ruined, and agreeing would mean that you would not be confined to your couch, enduring cheesy Hallmark movies and crying alone on Christmas eve.

Moreover, you were convinced that you had moved on from the little crush you had on him back when you met. Refusing still to admit that you’ve always had a soft spot for the gentle giant that slowly became a staple in your life, and that spending the holidays with him would be the best scenario that could ever happen.

But could you make it through this without getting your heart trampled and your friendship going up in smoke? As these thoughts started to swirl in your mind, your eyes began to wander aimlessly. From his eyes to his chiseled cheekbones and strong jawline, down to his neck and collarbone, and finally to his impressively muscular chest that seemed to only have grown since he started attending the gym religiously with Jungkook. And not to mention those arms that give the most incredible bear hugs. It was strange to allow yourself to notice his physicality in such detail, as if you had been willfully blind to his newfound buffness until now.

“Forget it, I’m sorry I asked,” he said, sensing your hesitation and preparing to end his suffering. But you stopped him in his tracks.

“If we are going to do this, we need a plan.” His eyes light up, color returning to his cheeks, before he squeezed you in a tight embrace “and just so you know, you owe me,” you laughed once he released you.

“Yes, yes, of course, whatever you want.”

“You take out the trash for a month,” he was too quick to nod “and I want you to take me to that bakery you and Jin always rave about.”

“Ajumeoni’s bakery?” he smiled at your request. That was the bakery Namjoon visited with his sister every Friday as a child, and every other day with Jin, on their way to school, because the milk bread was to die for. “Of course. It’s already part of the commute, so consider it done.”

“Good. We have a deal then,” you extended your hand as if sealing a business agreement, instead of setting yourselves up for a disaster. He reciprocated with a firm shake, and you swiftly retrieved your notepad from the coffee table. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, let’s establish a few key details about us. We need to become well-acquainted with each other’s personal preferences, so it doesn’t come across like we are just… pretending” he looked over at you as you scribbled.

“I mean, it’s a digestible story already. Two oblivious roommates, suddenly realizing they have feelings for one another after living together for years.” You mused, only to be met with his response.

“And once this is all over, we can simply tell everyone that we figured out we were better off as friends than lovers,” he pondered aloud.

“Right,” you replied, looking up from your notebook “How long have we been dating?”

“Anywhere from three to six months” he promptly answered and you jot it down before firing off your next question.

“And why haven’t we told any of our friends and family?”

“To avoid the inevitable ‘I knew it!’ and because we like the trill of keeping a secret.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled “So, how did we get together?”

“You finally realized how charming I am and just couldn’t contain yourself?” he flashed a cheeky smile and you playfully deflect by giving his chest a gentle push.

“How about your birthday party?” you offered “We were both buzzed enough to share a kiss and then you confessed?”

“Why do I confess?” he whined, peering over at your notebook page where you already wrote down your version of events.

“Because I’m shy about that kind of stuff” you mumble, burying your face in the cozy confines of his sweater, avoiding any potential eye contact.

 “That’s adorable,”

“Shut up.” You chuckle “Alright, is there anything I should know about you?”

“I’m not a big fan of PDA, especially when we’re out and about, so don’t expect me to be all over you.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But since we’re going home and pretending to be a couple, what level of affection are you comfortable with?”

“Well, I’m comfortable with you,” you cleared your throat, that bit of information being more truthful than intended “we can hold hands, and do normal couple stuff.”

“How do you feel about kissing?”

“Well, yeah, sure,” you responded nonchalantly, eyes fixating on the notepad in your hands.

A mischievous grin played on his lips as he teased, “Good, because I happen to be quite fond of leaving hickeys.” That broke you out of your little spiral, rolling your eyes at his poor attempt.

As if you weren’t already aware of this tidbit from his past conquests during your college days, before you two became roommates.

“You do know this is all pretend, right?” you retorted, refusing to take the bait.

“Oh, but baby, we’ve got to make it feel real,” he insisted, his tone dripping with charm. However, it did nothing to sway your logical approach to it.

“Right, ‘baby’” -you said it as if it was a legal term, “any preferences for pet names?”

Your serious charade did little to detour him. “Just promise me that our interactions won’t be like Jin and Myeong’s.”  He smiles, eyes twinkling with mischief.  “And surprise me, I’ll be putty in your hands.”

“So, you are not set on honorifics. I can call you Oppa if you want,” little did you know, your innocent suggestion struck a hidden chord within him. A new kink that needed further assessment later on, preferably after this week was over.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, clearing his throat and reclining against the couch. “Anything I should know about you?”

You pondered his question for a few seconds, allowing a sly smile to play your lips. “I don’t like feet.”

“No duh!” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, before regaining his composure. With a meticulous air, he went over all the details once more. “Ah, you need a new background on your phone.”

 Swiftly, he snatched your phone form the coffee table, catching you off guard, and planted a quick kiss on your cheek before snapping a selfie. “Perfect,” he declared, a proud smile spreading across his face as he set the picture as your home screen and background, leaving you to gather your frenzied thoughts.

“But wait, you also need a new photo,” You retorted, only to find him already one step ahead, pulling out his phone from his pajama bottoms and scrolling through his camera roll.

“Done.” He announced, turning his phone towards you to reveal the horrendous picture he had chosen as his own home screen. 

 A candid shot he took during your last year at college, on one of those late-night noodles runs to the local shop next to the library. You were draped in an oversized hoodie, greedily slurping a mouthful of noodles. With eyes blissfully shut, you savored every bite, as it was your first meal of that day, completely oblivious to his hidden photography skills.

It wasn’t until you accidentally stumbled upon your caller ID that you saw it and naturally, grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him, demanding an immediate change. But he stood his ground, claiming it was his favorite photo of you.

Claim proven yet again as now it was Namjoon’s home screen.

“I hate that photo.”

“I know.” He gave a smile, before safely tucking his phone back in his pocket, and rose to his feet, stretching leisurely. “I think we are good to go, girlfriend,” he said it in such a way that sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “I’ll go book our train tickets, and you better start packing soon,” he playfully pointed at you, before gracefully disappearing into his room to retrieve his laptop.

“Oh, wait, I need to get a present for your mom!”

~~~

Before the train even arrived in the station, the sky was threatening to unleash upon you. The air filled with delicate snowflakes, determined to bury you, Namjoon, and your luggage.  But it was yesterday’s conversation that still lingered in the atmosphere, weighing heavy on both your minds.

The darkness of the night had given you both time to process what was about to unfold. Your only anchor on reality being Namjoon’s surprisingly warm hand clasping your freezing one, and tucking it away in his warm coat pocket.

And the fact that he looked like he just strolled out of the latest winter Vogue edition for men didn’t help. While you attempted to make a lasting impression, donning a cream knitted dress, black stockings and boots, topped off with a cream coat, that was far too flimsy for the weather, Namjoon effortlessly sported a navy-blue hoodie, snug jeans and a stylish black trench coat, and even a matching beanie that made his hair look absolutely flawless.

But beyond his impeccable fashion sense, he also proved to be quite the gentleman. Not that you ever doubted it, but now he seemed determined to showcase his chivalry. He wouldn’t even let you lock the door to your own apartment. It was a miracle he allowed you to carry the bottle of Chardonnay you insisted on getting his family, despite his protests that it wasn't necessary. You slightly regretted it now, seeing as your other hand was enduring the elements, instead of being intertwined with his.

“You have snow in your hair,” you pointed out, stating the obvious with the brilliance of a water-is-wet revelation.

“As do you.” he looked up from his phone, where he was engrossed in checking the train’s schedule for any potential delays. “And your lips are blue.” with a swift motion, he untangled his scarf and gently draped it around your freezing form. Something he had done many a time before, anytime he saw you slightly cold, but never before had you considered this gesture to be more than your friend looking out for you.

But today, things were different. Today you were pretending to be his girlfriend.

The sudden surge of warmth that enveloped you left you wondering if it was due to all your blood rushing to your cheeks or his scarf possessing some sort of magical heating abilities.

“It says here that the snow storm shouldn’t intervene with the scheduling, so the train will be here in a few minutes.” He looked up again, a cheerful grin appearing across his features as he caught sight of your pink face. “Aw you’re blushing again,”

“Shut up.” you retorted with the quick-wittedness of a third-grader.

“If I would have known it was this easy to make you flush, I would have made my fictional moves much sooner.” His voice did that thing again, where it went slightly deeper and, only the look in his eyes ticking you off to his teasing.

Your only response was to nervously nibble on your lip. Again, the realization that you are about to deceive not only his mother, but his entire family nestle in your chest, squeezing at your heart like a snake wrapped around it.

“Namjoon, I’m not sure about this.” you confessed, pulling the scarf closer to your face. It was a bit late to be getting cold feet, but this was your last opportunity to speak your mind before embarking on this little ordeal. “I don’t think I can pull this off.”

“Come on now, aren’t you an intern at a law firm?” he raised a playful eyebrow, attempting to ease the tension, but you only glared at him.

“I can’t lie.” You stated firmly “I’m the absolute worse at it. That is why I always find alternative ways of convey the truth. That’s what lawyers do. We don’t resort to lies.”

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he quickly apologized, before falling silent for a few seconds to ponder a solution. "Okay, listen. You don’t have to say anything."

"What do you mean?" you looked up at him, a hint of skepticism in your voice.

"I can take care of all the relationship talk, and I won’t say anything unless prompted.” he replied, trying to inject a touch of wit into his response. “Afterall, you are just my friend that just happens to be a girl.” He playfully wiggled his eyebrows at you “And I want you to spend Christmas with me and my family instead of being alone at home.” Namjoon gave you a sincere smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the grip on your heart slightly loosen.

“Okay,” you gave a small nod “Thank you Joon.”

The nickname slipped by unnoticed, but you noticed the way Namjoon reacted, rekindling your burning cheeks.

“So, no Oppa?”

When your train arrived, Namjoon swiftly took charge, effortlessly carrying all the bags to your seats, settling in comfortably for the four-hour journey ahead.

He had come prepared, armed with at least three books to keep himself entertained, while you had grand plans of getting a head start on your work, perhaps even sneaking in a personal lecture and a quick power nap. However, much to your surprise, the allure of a nap quickly surpassed all other ambitions, your head found a cozy resting place on Namjoon’s shoulder, and you drifted off into a blissful slumber for the remainder of the journey. A sleepless night imagining what it would be like pretending to date your roommate could do that to you.

Only stirring awake when you were less than a few minutes away, because Namjoon was constantly shifting in his seat, half of his body numb from your weight on him.

“Oh hey,” he whispered, swiftly stretching his legs as soon as you moved off him. “I just spoke to Minhi, she said she’d come pick us up from the train station,”

“Oh, that’s nice.” you yawned, rubbing away any remnants of sleep from your eyes “You could have told me to move, you know.”

“Yes, but you looked so peaceful. It felt almost wrong to disturb you.” He grinned, fully aware that he also indulged in a little nap, using your head as a pillow just half an hour ago.

“Shut up,” you whispered, poking his thigh and retrieving your makeup bag to quickly fix your face before the train pulled up in the station.

The frigid air pierced through your very bones, sending an instant shiver cascading down your spine as you stepped into the snow filled air. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, trying to ward off the cold as you looked around for Minhi, seeing as Namjoon was on luggage duty again.

However, before you could spot her, Minhi’s voice sliced through the chilly air,

“Kim Namjoon, you have got to be kidding me.”

Namjoon’s little sister, all bundled up in a thick winter coat had fixed you two with a piercing stare, her hands on her hips in a classic display of sibling disapproval. 

Namjoon’s wonky smile did nothing to deter her piercing gaze, or calm any of your fraying nerves. “It’s good to see you too?”

You feel your heart drop as Minhi's gaze shifts from her brother to you, her expression a mix of confusion and suspicion. Your worst fears are confirmed - she's figured you out and you haven’t even been off the train for 5 minutes. Now Namjoon will be married off to some rich middle-aged woman and you'll never be able to look him in the eye again.

 You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you look away, silently praying that the snow beneath your boots doesn’t melt into a puddle while she stares.

But then, unexpectedly, Minhi starts to laugh. At first, it's a quiet chuckle, but soon it grows into a full-blown laugh. She laughs so hard that she has to hold her stomach, and at the end she wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye.

“You two are perfect for each other,” she says still chuckling “Fine, I’ll play along. How did you two end up together?”

“Got drunk one night.” Namjoon casually replied, rubbing the back of his neck before wrapping his arm around you, “Turns out all I had to do was say something, because she was all over me the next second.” 

Minhi raised her eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right,” She hugged Namjoon tightly, and then turned to you, surprising you with a warm embrace. She muttered something about Namjoon never confessing his feelings in your coat, but you were too busy drowning in a whirlwind of confusion and relief to register it.

“We'll talk more later about how inappropriate this is." She added cheerfully, beckoning you to follow her towards her little yellow jeep, bright against the snowy backdrop.

You look back at Namjoon just in time to catch him winking in your direction and giving you a thumbs-up that sent your heart whirling in your chest.

 The car ride was over faster than you would have wanted. Minhi navigated the snow-laden road while she and Namjoon chatted away about mundane topics—work, rent, the best coffee in town. You sank deeper into the backseat, overwhelmed and lost in your thoughts. Because What the hell was that and If this was how you were kicking things off you might as well turn around now. Was it just fear of ruining the friendship or was an old crush budding again? The way he ‘claimed’ you in front of Minhi clearly ignited something in your chest that was not appropriate for friends or roommates or roommate-friends pretending to be dating.

As if sensing your turmoil from the front, Namjoon caught your eyes, giving you a gentle, reassuring smile before the car came to a halt. He gallantly opened the door for you, his hand grasping yours and squeezing it tightly.  

 “I got you, baby,” he says, teasingly, but the poorly-timed joke earns him an immediate glare and an elbow to the ribs.  

“Oh, come on. They are lovely people.” Minhi interrupts before Namjoon can retaliate, “You should’ve seen the way mom was dancing around the kitchen once she heard Namjoon was bringing someone over.”

You just blink at her, your breath misting in the air as you unconsciously step closer to Namjoon, giving him a small nod of support. His presence radiates warmth, his fingers tightening around yours as you walked towards the small house that looms in front of you. Minhi ambles ahead, dropping her bag near the entrance, while you could practically feel Namjoon vibrating with excitement.

“Someone’s in trouble” She whispers dramatically, letting you both into the warmth of the household, where laughter and the mouthwatering scent of home-cooked food intertwine. You follow her into the kitchen and you see the older couple husting about, half-focused on a pot bubbling over the stove and half on each other.

“Mom! Dad! Look who I’ve brought!” she announces, and the couple turned, smiles blooming as they spotted you and Namjoon.

For a fleeting moment, you felt exposed. Like an exhibit at a museum, thrust into the spotlight. Your breath hitched as Namjoon gently nudged you forward, a gesture both comforting and terrifying, but steeling yourself, you bravely stepped ahead, bowing as a sign of respect.

“I knew it!” The affectionate glow sweeping across Mrs. Kim face relaxed your nerves considerably, “I’m so glad you could make it!” her eyes sparkled with genuine delight, and you suddenly realized that Namjoon inherited his dimples from her. But the thought was quickly squeezed out of you as she enveloped you in that bone-crushing hug.

Namjoon’s father, a tall elderly man with kind eyes, patted him on the back. His approval apparent, before he turned his attention to you, “Welcome to our home,” he said warmly.

“I’m honored to be here.” You managed to respond, your voice quacking slightly but laced with sincerity. You heard Minhi groaning in the background but did your best to ignore her exaggerations and focus only on Namjoon’s parents, as you exchanged the required pleasantries.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Mrs. Kim said, bustling around the kitchen with effortless grace. The contrast between her elegant movements and Namjoon’s clumsy demeanour in the kitchen made you smile inwardly “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Yes, we didn’t get a chance to eat today,” Namjoon added quickly, casually leaning against the counter and stealing a taste from the simmering pot.

“I’ll call you over once it’s done. Go show our guest to your room until then,” Mrs. Kim commanded, expertly shooing him away from the stove and passing plates to Minhi.

“My room?” Namjoon echoed, his eyes widening as if the concept had floored him.

“Yes, dear. I know we are old-fashioned, but we are not under any illusions that you two don’t already share a room.” Mrs. Kim replied, stirring the bubbling pot without sparing him a glance.

Minhi shot you a look that was equal parts amusement and something you couldn’t quite place—sympathy, perhaps? Or pity?

“Yes- No. I just thought that it would be more appropriate to let her have the guest room,” Namjoon articulated, his voice half-hearted in its conviction.

Mrs. Kim merely cooed, waved away his protests with a flick of the wrist. “Minhi and Jackson are staying in the guest room. You can have your room.”

“Come on, Namjoon. You always make everything so complicated,” Minhi chimed in, her voice laced with mischief. “Just accept it. You guys will have an entire night to sort things out, right?”

“Right.” he grumbled, shooting her a glare that softened as he turned his gaze back to you “Let’s get you settled in,” he gestured for you to follow him.

The moment you step into Namjoon's room, a charged silence enveloped you- like the kind that proceeds a brewing storm. The room was exactly as you imagined, a blend of cooler minimalist décor and hints of his personal touch, a few pieces of art and pictures hung up on the wall, all whispering tales of youth, friendship and moments you yearned to know more about.

But all those sweet memories fade into the background as the reality settled in: there was only one bed.

“So, let me get this straight,” you began, the awkwardness hanging heavily in the air “You thought about everything, including phone wallpapers, but forgot you only have one bed in your room?”

“No, of course not.” He lied, that endearing grin spreading across his face. “I just thought it would be polite to let you have the bed… since you’re my guest.” He seemed genuinely proud of the excuse, but that pride melted when you teased,

“Before or after you plan for the guest room fell through?”

“After.” He admitted at last, glancing away, as if the walls held all the explanations he could not muster.

“Don’t tell me you planned on sleeping on the floor too,” for a brief moment the ridiculous image of him curled up on the hardwood floor, blankets draped haphazardly around him pops into your mind, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“No.” He smiles, “I knew you’d take pity on my lower back,” his dimples deepened and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Very strategic Mr. Kim,” you laugh, walking further into the room and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. The playful banter creating a familiar atmosphere, dissolving any lingering tension. A part of you almost couldn't believe you were in Namjoon’s personal space, taking your sweet time admiring the various little parts of him decorating the room, while another part was acutely aware of his gaze on you, observing you as if he were trying to read your thoughts.

He stepped closer, his expression sincere, drawing you in gently as he took your hands in his. “Are you sure?” The tentative nature of his voice hinted at a deeper question—he was about to add an ‘I was only joking’—but you quickly shushed him.

“Yes, of course.”

There were a few past occurrences where the two of you ended up falling asleep together on the couch, limbs tangled under the fuzzy throw blanket, with a movie playing in the background. Without fail, one of you would wake up in the morning to find the other wrapped around them, as the night was chilly and body heat was a rare luxury. Most of the time it was Namjoon that dozed off first, his head lolling in an awkward position until you gently nudged him into a more comfortable posture, knowing he’d whine about neck and/or shoulder pain come morning time if you didn’t. But his lug of a body was always warm, so you didn’t mind snuggling closer to him when it mattered.

This was more of the same. Just in a bed.

You swallow drily, eyes flickering away for a quick second, “I told you, I’m comfortable with you.”

“Come on, lovebirds!” Minhi’s voice rang through the door, breaking the spell. “Dinner’s ready!”

You shared a hurried glance, perspectives shifting as the familiar nervousness rushed back to you.

“Ready?” he asked, his smile spreading across his face, deepening the dimples in his cheeks as he tugged you up to your feet. You nodded, suddenly buoyed by a sense of belonging.

To your surprise, dinner goes by without a hitch. You may have gone a little overboard on the kimchi, but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t recover from. However, the warmth of Namjoon’s hand resting softly on your thigh might etch itself into your memory for all time.

Halfway through the meal, Jackson showed up, and you got to observe with amusement as Minhi transformed in his presence, her demeanor shifting from the laid-back hostess to a giddy schoolgirl. The way she playfully nudged Jackson, her eyes sparkling each time she teased him, be it about his late arrival or some inside joke, was a refreshing sight. And you couldn’t help but snicker each time Mrs. Kim would chastise them, before dotting lovingly on anything you and Namjoon did together.

As the lively conversation flowed around you, you leaned into Namjoon’s warmth. It felt easy, and so right to nestle beside him, to let your fingers brush against his with familiarity, each touch igniting tiny sparks. You stole a glance at him, watching as he engaged wholeheartedly in the conversation, his contagious laughter filling the room.

After dinner, you offered to help Mrs. Kim clear up the table, even if it was to get a second to clear your thoughts, but to your surprise, Mr. Kim placed a soft hand on your shoulder, smiling, as he gently guided you back to your seat.

“You’ve done enough, dear,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring “We appreciate your help, but tonight is for you and Namjoon to enjoy.” He gave you a kind nod, and you felt your cheeks warm.

“Yeah, there will be dishes tomorrow too,” Minhi interrupted, getting a heartfelt laughter from her father before he left the room, to join his wife in the kitchen.

You shared a sheepish glance with Namjoon, who watched the exchange with an amused smile. His eyes twinkling in the soft light of the dining room, and you felt your heart pick-up the pace in your chest again. You really needed to get away, perhaps splash some cold water on your face. But just as you felt the urge to excuse yourself, you overheard Jackson's whispered confusion.

“Wait, so they’re not actually dating?” His voice was muted, and laced with confusion as he looked between you and Namjoon, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

“Kyung Min!” Namjoon called Minhi by her full name, which made her owlishly blink up at him.

“What? He asked how long you two have been dating for,” she defended.

“And you couldn’t just say three months, like a normal person?” Namjoon shot back, half laughing, half exasperated and watched as her brows knitted.

“No! He deserves to know.” She persisted, glaring at her brother, and you felt the heat crawl up your neck, trying desperately to remain inconspicuous under Jackson’s incredulous stare.

“So how exactly does this work?” Jackson asked, stopping the siblings from their bickering “Is it like friends with benefits or-?” just when you thought it couldn’t get any more awkward, the sip of water you took ended up going down the wrong way, making you choke and sputter.

“No! it’s nothing like that.”  You stammered, trying to form a coherent thought, but all you could manage was a mangled mess of words.

“No babe, they don’t even kiss,” Minhi added, placing her hand over his as if she were breaking some bad news.

But Namjoon reacted with the prove-your-sibling-wrong part of the brain, making you stare at him in disbelief.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we do.”  

And your pulse picked up again when you saw him leaning in, the implication clear in your mind. You steeled yourself, closing your eyes. But to your astonishment, he didn’t press his lips against yours as you had envisioned. Instead, they grazed the curve of your cheek, followed by a loud, exaggerated kiss.

“I’m confused.” Jackson mumbled, looking over at Minhi as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re not the only one.”

~~~

Why didn’t he just kiss you?

The thought still lingered stubbornly at the edge of consciousness, even as the icy water from the shower jolted you into the present. You fumbled with the knobs, trying to figure out the right temperature, but your mind was elsewhere.

That scene kept on replaying on a constant loop in your head, each time leaving you just as stumped.

What stopped him?

You talked about this- he brought it up! And you agreed, so what was the hold-up? Was he really so uninterested that the mere thought of kissing you sent him into retreat mode?

Frustration bubbled up alongside the steam, and you invertedly cringed at the image of his nervous smile that still haunted you, his eyes darting away. Scrubbing harder at your skin, you wish the shame and embarrassment would simply wash away with the suds.

And the absurdity of getting worked over your friend not kissing you was not lost on you, but at least if he had gone for it, you might have been able to push that nagging question aside ~What would it be like to kiss Namjoon?  

His lips looked so soft, like they were meant for more than just talking…

You violently shook that thought away, and with a resigned sigh, you turned the water back to cold in an attempt to wash away your sins. Friends don’t kiss!

And he clearly wasn’t interested, so the sooner you silence these thoughts, the sooner you could go back to being normal. Just four more days of pretending to be his girlfriend. You could manage that. And after, you promised yourself you’d lock yourself in your room and avoid human interaction for rest of your miserable life.

As the water continued its relentless pour, you felt your fingertips start to wrinkle, a reminder that perhaps it was time to step out of this session of self-pity. With one last shudder, you turned the water off, determined to face the world- if only for a little while longer.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the soft glow of a lamp illuminated the room. Namjoon was already tucked into bed, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he quietly looked over the pages of a book. Only, in reality he hadn’t been able to absorb a single word in the past fifteen minutes, his gaze lost in a world of his own.

Silently, you made your way to your side, wrapping yourself in the blanket and turning your back to him. A slight shiver coursed through you as you felt the warmth envelop you, the little tremor alerting Namjoon to your presence.

“Why are you so cold?” he asked softly, shifting slightly closer to you.

Your heart thudded at the caring tone, and for a moment, all the questions crowd your mind again.

Instead of answering, you huffed in frustration and turned to face him.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” the words blurted out before you could stop them, surprising you both with their boldness, but your face flushed when you met his gaze.

Namjoon’s eyes widened, and he froze, the book forgotten on his lap. “I-I don’t know.” He stuttered, his hand running though his tousled hair, the soft strands falling back in place but not hiding the flush creeping up his neck. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense, eyes averted again in a way that tightened your stomach.

“It would’ve convinced Minhi sooner,” your added, your words hanging heavy in the air. Namjoon chuckled awkwardly, running that same hand down his face.

“You want me to kiss you?”

You hesitated, the corners of your mind fanatically searching for a safe answer

“I’m just saying it would’ve made things easier,” you deflected, avoiding his question much like he had done moments before.

He studied you for a moment, gears visibly turning in his mind before his lips curved into a small, daring smile. “Because I can kiss you if you want.”

Your breath caught in your throat, surprised by the sudden shift in tension.

“Now?” you breathed.

“Why not?” he shrugged “We’re both clearly anxious about it, so why not just get it over with?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, lost for words, staring up at him. All the courage from before evaporating into thin air. You quickly searched his features, seeking the playful glint, the laughter behind his eyes, but instead, his eyes just flickered from yours to your lips.

“Do you want to kiss me?” you finally found the words, and his eyes snapped back to your own.

“I think it would make things easier going forward,” he replied, his voice low and earnest.

A heavy silence settled between you, stretching like an elastic ready to snap at any moment, as snowflakes continued to drift outside, dressing the world in white.

You took a deep breath, “Fine.” Ultimately you mumbled, sitting up against the headboard and turning to face him.

“Are you sure?”, The way he phrased it made your stomach flop, as if he were validating a choice that seemed both reckless and somehow still challenged you.

“Yes, now stop talking and just-” The words were lost as the space between you disappeared. But now you knew; his lips were soft, warm and tentative against yours. It felt wonderful, and sent tingles shooting through your veins while your heart tried erratically to catch up. He hesitated for a heartbeat- less than a fraction of a second- before he leaned further in, deepening the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. And you soften against him, all the tension melting away. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping lightly as if anchoring yourself amidst the storm of emotions that released once you tasted his mint toothpaste.

When he finally pulled back, both of you gasping for breath, the world resumed its muted noised- the quiet hum of the heater, the faint sound of voices downstairs, Namjoon’s breath against your lips. You could hardly meet his eyes, until you heard the first thing that left his lips.

“I just kissed you.”

Your eyebrow arched, blinking at him as if waiting for the punchline that never came.

“I know. I- was there too.” You replied, a little smile creeping on your face despite the rapid thump of your heart. Namjoon laughed softly; his cheeks still tinged with a shade of pink. “You’re a good kisser.” You added after a few beats of silence, before chewing on your lip, and unintentionally drawing his attention back to them.

“You too,” He gave a curt nod, remembering he has a book on his lap and fumbling to bookmark and put it away.

Another moment of silence followed once he settled back, and your eyes desperately scanned the walls for something, anything to say.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” you settled on the worst option, slightly cringing.

“No!” he answered louder than he anticipated, slightly shocking you which in return startled him. “I mean-” he let out an exasperated breath, “Friends kiss all the time.”

He didn’t believe it. And neither did you. But you still nodded in agreement.

[overly-distressed-mouse]

Okay I'm now home from watching the Barbie movie, so I have to bestow some knowledge upon you fuckers (aka me infodumping actual Barbie lore because there were a lot of references there).

So, first and foremost, in one scene, we see "Earring Ken" and "Growing up Skipper" (very short scene, don't worry if you missed it). But these were actual Barbie dolls released by Mattel way back whenever (See pictures below)

So, "Earring Ken" was actually "Earring Magic Ken". His whole thing was Mattel wanted to be cool and hip with the kids or whatever, so they created him. Except their idea of going out and finding inspiration and information as to what was "hip with the kids", was gay bars. And raves. As you can imagine, Earring Magic Ken did not stay on shelves too long (about 6 months) (though he did sell actually really well and I believe is still one of their most sold despite only being available for such a short time). I'm pretty sure his necklace charm could be swapped out too and also worn as actual earrings. HOWEVER, the part about Earring Magic Ken that kills me, is that because they went to gay bars, not only did they give him a mesh shirt and shit (as seen above), but the charm on his necklace? Is a cock ring. Did Mattel realize this? Probably the fuck not, but that's what it was💕

Growing up Skipper was also an actual doll, and just like in the movie, if you twisted her arm, she grew boobs. She also grew like an inch taller or something. I'm pretty sure she also was not on the shelf long, but she was introduced in the 1970s. So that's fun

Next up, Midge and Allan (who both play slightly bigger roles in the film but here's pictures anyways)

So Midge was Barbie's best friend, and was released specifically because Mattel found themselves faced with high demand for a pregnant Barbie doll. But of course, Barbie can never get married or be pregnant or have kids, because it ages her, and obviously seeming a little older means Barbie is suddenly worthless and unappealing (Woo patriarchy!). So their solution was Midge, who, ironically, ended up being everything Barbie couldn't (which is kind of funny since she's supposed to be able to be any and everything ever). So, them making her only personality trait in the movie her pregnancy, is kind of spot on. She did have actual dolls initially but then seemed to disappear for a while, having been replaced with other "Barbie's best friend!"'s. Actually they also replaced Barbie's siblings several times but that's another post. Midge did eventually return though in Life in the Dreamhouse (See below)

One thing they never mentioned in the movie, however, is that Allan was actually Midge's boyfriend. I don't have too much on him besides that but I think it's worth mentioning.

Anywho, there's my rant on some of the characters in the Barbie movie, if you made it this far, thanks :))

[solxamber]

WOAH CAN I REQUEST LILIA X AN NPC THAT HE GROWS ATTRACTED TO (romantic) AND THOUGHT SOME USE OF MAGIC THEY GET TO HIS WORLD?! AND THEY GET TOGETHER? PLEASE

Lilia Vanrouge x NPC! Reader

thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

Lilia Vanrouge is an old fae who has seen many things in his long life. He has fought in wars, ruled lands, and babysat a dragon prince. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the strange obsession that takes over him the moment he picks up a copy of the hottest new game in Twisted Wonderland: "Kingdoms & Chaos: Celestial Knight's Quest."

It starts innocently enough. A little late-night entertainment to pass the time while Silver is napping (read: fainted from exhaustion), Malleus is out being mysterious, and Sebek is… well, Sebek-ing somewhere.

But then you appear.

As the Commander of the Celestial Knights—an NPC of all things—you steal Lilia’s heart without even trying. Not only are you charming and competent, but you also manage to dish out some fantastic one-liners as you lead the virtual army across the battlefield with a grace that’s almost unmatched.

"Ah, what a lovely evening," Lilia hums, as the glow of his screen reflects off his ever-youthful face. “So peaceful, so quiet… Oh look, an army of marauding orcs attacking the village!” he says gleefully, mashing buttons with expert skill.

Then you arrive on the screen. Your character, standing tall, sword drawn, voice commanding: “We shall protect this land at all costs!”

Lilia gasps softly. He’s heard you say this line a dozen times, but for some reason, tonight it hits different. You’re so determined… so strong… and that armor—why, it looks splendid on you!

“How intriguing” he muses to himself with a teasing grin. “If only you were real, darling Commander. I’d have such fun seeing how well you could lead in the real world… Imagine, conquering lands by my side…”

Suddenly, an idea forms in Lilia’s mischievous brain.

Never one to back down from a challenge (even if it’s entirely self-imposed and objectively absurd), Lilia decides to play around with some light magical experimentation. After all, what could possibly go wrong with trying to summon a fictional character into reality?

"Just a harmless spell," Lilia assures himself as he draws up a complicated sigil on the floor of his room. He’s chanting in ancient fae tongue, eyes gleaming with excitement.

For a brief moment, nothing happens.

Lilia huffs. “How disappointing… Perhaps I’ve—"

POOF!

Before him stands… you. Armor and all.

You blink in confusion. One moment, you were standing on the battleground, barking orders at your troops in a rather intense cutscene. The next moment, you find yourself standing in what appears to be someone’s bedroom, staring at a very smug-looking man with fangs.

“Where am I? What is this place?!” You exclaim, grabbing for your sword instinctively.

Lilia claps his hands together, delight shining in his eyes. “Welcome to my world, darling! Oh, I knew that spell would work eventually. You’re even more dazzling in person!”

You gape at him. “What… how did I—what kind of magic is this?!”

“Oh, just a little something I whipped up,” he says nonchalantly. “It’s all very simple, really. Though, now that you’re here, I suppose I should give you a tour of the place! Maybe a drink? A lovely stroll under the moonlight?”

You eye him suspiciously. “You… summoned me? But I’m just a—”

“NPC?” Lilia interrupts with a smirk. “Not anymore! You’re free to do as you wish here. Consider yourself the main character now, hm?”

You lower your sword slightly, starting to process what just happened. This man is utterly insane…

And yet, there’s something oddly intriguing about his carefree attitude. And he’s undeniably… attractive?

Adjusting to life outside of a game isn’t easy. For one thing, you have to deal with all these strange, non-player characters called “people,” who seem to have minds of their own. You no longer have the comfort of pre-determined dialogue options either, which is quite jarring.

The most bizarre thing, though, is that Lilia keeps flirting with you.

At first, you try to ignore it, chalking it up to the fact that he’s just messing with you. But it’s hard to ignore when he leans in close to you with a teasing smile every time you so much as yawn.

“Tired, Commander?” Lilia whispers in your ear one evening, his breath tickling your skin. “You should rest… After all, we wouldn’t want you collapsing in battle.”

Your cheeks flush red as you stammer out a response. “I-I’m not tired! And there’s no battle! This isn’t the game!”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying how flustered you’ve become. “But of course! How silly of me. Though, you should know… you’ve already won this battle.”

“What battle?!”

“The battle for my heart,” Lilia says smoothly, winking at you.

Your face burns hotter, and you try to hide behind a pillow. “What kind of nonsense are you even talking about?!”

Lilia just grins and pats your head fondly. “You’ll understand soon enough, my dear Commander.”

Days turn into weeks, and while you initially found Lilia’s antics annoying, you start to realize that he genuinely cares for you. He’s always looking out for you, guiding you through this strange new world with a patience you never expected from someone so chaotic.

One night, while you’re sitting outside under the stars, you find yourself staring at him longer than usual. He’s so carefree and confident, yet there’s a softness to him when he talks to you.

And that’s when it hits you.

*Oh no… I’m falling for him.*

Lilia notices your staring and smirks. “What’s this? Are you finally seeing my charm, darling Commander?”

You groan and cover your face. “Why must you always be so insufferably smug?”

“I can’t help it if I’m irresistible,” Lilia teases, leaning in closer. “Tell me, do I make your heart race?”

You try to deny it, but you know it’s true. Your heart is racing, and it’s all because of him.

Finally, after a long pause, you sigh in defeat. “Alright, fine… maybe you do make my heart race a little.”

Lilia’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before a genuine smile crosses his lips. “Is that so? Well then, I suppose I should reward you for your honesty.”

Before you can respond, Lilia leans in and presses his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It’s nothing grand or dramatic—just simple and sincere.

When he pulls away, you’re left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Well,” you mumble, still dazed. “I suppose this means I’ve won.”

Lilia chuckles softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Perhaps… But you’re not the only one who’s victorious tonight, darling.”

Masterlist

[himbohysterectomy]

clinical trial (game) spoilers

firstly before anyone gets mad at me for policing their enjoyment/engagement with a piece of media this is NOT the intention here, do whatever you want forever and have fun ok? keep doing what you're doing so long as you aren't hurting anybody.

Also this is mostly about fanart cause I don't really read fic so idk how applicable it is over there but it still might be, idk.

_

I have noticed an overwhelming amount of sappy flowery fanart of lee and angel from clinical trial just being cute and lovey and it is strange to me. it feels to me like glossing over the actually interesting substance of the game in favour of generic wholesome content instead.

like i 100% understand the appeal stemming from that desire to be wanted and desired so intensely or even obsessively as well as that desire to feel protected by someone, and in turn wanting it to end up being healthy and wholesome and working out for the both of them. but I feel like what that ends up with in most of the fanart i see is just like. a normal ass couple?

of course we are set up to see the characters and their interactions as very cute and wholesome. and they are! it works wonderfully for setting up that gut-punch of a twist towards the end of the game. they spend a very long time building up to it and it works very well and is well worth the wait.

but like. hello. did we all forget the horror elements of this cute little horror game?

lee is obsessed with angel. he kept angels gum. angels blood. angels hair (which btw, when/where did he acquire that much hair?? lol). he made a doll of angel (which to be fair to him when you actually hear him out it is probably the most reasonable and wholesome part of that whole shrine). he for sure fucked that jacket. he took multiple pictures of angel out and about, meaning that be absolutely, undoubtedly stalked angel. he killed for angel and did not regret it one bit even when he was confronted about it.

him keeping the gum from the week 2 appointment means that at the very latest he became obsessed with angel the second time that they ever saw each other. we have no idea how long he was stalking angel for.

there is zero chance in my mind that their relationship would be healthy and wholesome, at least not all the time. even if they work on shit together and lee actually seeks therapy they're not gonna just... fix each other with the power of love.

frankly lee is unwell and does not know how to form healthy relationships. he could mask that side of himself pretty well during their appointments but even still not perfectly. if they move in together it's going to be a lot more difficult to keep himself in check all of the time and not be Kinda Weird about angel sometimes. there were already some red flags when they only saw each other once a week.

ultimately, it isn't that i want people to stop drawing wholesome and sweet accept ending fanart of clinical trial. of course not!

what i'm getting at is that i wanna see more freak shit!!! get fucky with it!!! draw them being obsessive and unhealthy! if you're gonna fantasize about this fucked up couple at least do it the justice of depicting it in the way that it was set up to be sometimes! they didn't take the time to set up that wonderful twist for it to just be ignored!!

draw lee struggling to not be obsessive or possessive or overprotective! draw lee secretly still keeping things that angel throws away, or stealing small things that he thinks angel wont miss! draw angel having to keep him in check and scolding him like a dog!

give that man his red flags back or so help me god!!! they're what make him interesting as a character - without them he's just Some Guy.

the art that actually got me to play clinical trial was this wonderful piece by @ glimfag/hecctwo. it is absolutely amazing and symbolic and perfect. it leans into the idea of angel also being kind of a freak like that, and why not!! in the accept ending angel knows everything that lee did and is capable of and chooses to be with him regardless.

maybe angel's kinda into it!! maybe angel's drawn to this idea of being the prey of a stalker! maybe angel wants a man that can be kept on a leash! maybe angel likes being the center of his whole universe because angel likes to have that power over him, especially after what angel has been through! maybe angel wants a guard dog! maybe angel likes knowing that he would absolutely kill again if angel asked him to!!

by all means keep drawing wholesome shit all day long but please don't shy away from showing the unhealthy side of their relationship, especially on lee's end! i promise that you're allowed to enjoy "problematic" things - you're capable of critical thought, so have fun with it!!!!!

[freyito]

ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ! ⨟ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ in which: he celebrates halloween with you.

✧ a/n: i wanna do a nice little short series for a select few characters for halloween... basically the idea is . trick is the silly and annoying things they'd do on halloween and treat is the stupidly sweet and sappy things theyd do on halloween. no promise on which characters will be a part of this series! it could range from twisted wonderland to elden ring el oh el

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

→ trick or treat masterlist

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :P, DAD BOOTHILL!!!, not proofread

✎ wc: 610

Trick

Boothill is a little shit during Halloween. If he’s able to settle down with you, you’re in for a lot of stupid scares. If you’re afraid of horror but still in the mood for some scary movies, he’s making sure you’ve got nothing to hold on to aside from him. He’s poking at your sides, trying to make you take your hands away from your eyes or look at the screen when a particularly scary scene plays. Ain’t no fun in watchin’ it alone!

He’ll find a way to drag you off to some sort of haunted house, or festival with scare actors. He’s seen so much, a few actors jumping out at him and screaming doesn’t get to him. But if it makes you flinch, even a little bit, you’re subjected to such torture. He laughs whenever you jump or swear or cover your mouth, and it makes you want to punch him in the gut right then and there. Don’t think about trying to wiggle your way out of it, he acts all sad and defeated if you don’t go out with him.

At home, he is equally annoying. Hiding around corners, staring at you from said corners until you notice, cackling when you scream, and many more. One time you woke up to him standing over you, his eye emitting an eerie red hue. Though, you still don’t know if it was because he was charging, or if he was actually messing with you.

Treat

With all that being said… if you were to scold him for all he’s done, he’s genuinely remorseful. Boothill sulks a little, but his apology is genuine. He does all the chores he can before he sets off, even takes you out to a nice dinner before Halloween, maybe a couple of drinks (but those are mainly for him). The unfortunate thing is it happens every year, but the pay off (the pampering) is just wonderful.

On Halloween night, he’s absolutely jubilant. He can’t sit still for a minute. He’s practically waiting at the door like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. He’s practically begging you for him to be the one to pass out candy to the kids. He just adores them dressed up in their little costumes, it’s like he’s a whole new man when he closes the door. All mushy over the little pirate who took one too many pieces of candy, or the princess who did a little bow before she left.

If you two have kids, he’s dressing up with them, no questions asked. Even if he ends up as a tree or a trash bag, he could care less. He loves it. He makes you take a couple photos with your phone, then like a thousand more on an old polaroid camera, so he can at least keep one with him. He also makes sure to hit all the houses. Twice. Doesn’t matter if the people at the door recognize them, Boothill’s got a way of persuasion none can beat. If he knows there’s any house giving out full-sized candy bars, he’s probably raided the bowl. He’ll leave some extra for other kids of course (while he adores his own, he’s not cruel), but his kiddos deserve the best, so they’re getting the best.

Even though exhaustion is non-existent to him now, by the end of the night, he’s all tuckered out. Crashed on the couch with your kids, a few stray wrappers he forgot to pick up before ushering the kids off to bed. Trick or treating is hard work, you know! Don’t be mad when he’s tired, he worked his behind off!

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[thewertsearch]

Anonymous asked: i really love how all the ancestors have 8 letter titles which is so clearly just because our Primary Source on them is mindfang. like she absolutely did that on purpose. you know already that homestuck plays around with metanarrative and stuff, and i just love how many characters in homestuck we can learn about through the way they tell stories/serve as an author, either in small ways or large ways. like… vriska trying to Retroactively Make Herself More Important by Inserting Herself Into Various Important Moments is a way of trying to "be the author of her own story" right? but at the same time, she's largely trying to follow imitate mindfang, who she only knows about through the way SHE told stories, so she can't try to imitate what mindfang was really LIKE in life even if she wanted to, she can only imitate the way she AUTHORED that. and because vriska (unlike us) doesn't have the luxury of experiencing her own life as a story, i think thats part of what makes her so prone to Bad decisions, because things that seem The Most Dramatic in stories (like how mindfang wrote her own story down, likely embellishing for flair) aren't actually great decisions in real life.

Marquise

Orphaner

Summoner

Redglare

Sufferer

Expatri8 (Expatriate)

Looking at the Ancestors who've been namedropped so far, it really does feel like Mindfang deliberately twisted Zahhak's title into an eight-letter word. If she did have some sort of system, though, it seems to have fallen apart when naming the highbloods. Neither the Empress nor the Grand Highblood have any known eight-letter titles.

Edit, because I can't count: The Condesce does, in fact, have an eight-letter title. The Highblood, I believe, does not.

Also, that's such an interesting take on why Vriska's Like That. She's modelling herself off an embellished version of Mindfang - in other words, a completely fictional character.

And here she is, looking down on Tavros for trying to imitate Rufio. Glass houses, Vriska!

@manorinthewoods asked: On the subject of the Radio Troll… Communer, Conveyor, Observer, and on the names front, Hermitia or Voxcraft? Can't come up with any more, sorry. ~LOSS (10/9/24) Anonymous asked: The hostess is such a cool name :0 There's so many doc scratch parallels you could do with it. Well, like, anti-parallels. Perpendiculars? We'll workshop that one. You get what I mean

Right - in light of the eight-letter Ancestor titles, should the Hostess have a different name? It seems like more of a general trend than a hard rule. Maybe I'll come up with one later.

I am fond of the Reporter, but I'm not sure if I prefer it to the Hostess. I didn't even think about drawing parallels between her and Scratch, but that's an idea with real potential.

@ben-guy asked: Very exciting to finally see you reach the ancestor introductions! Fun fact: The English VA for Deku was once well known in the HS voice acting community if I'm remembering correctly. His most well known contributions are still spoilers as of me writing this, but I will say it involves the ancestors!

Wait, really? It's always wild when I hear about any real-life celebrities who are in any way involved in Homestuck. I'm still reeling about the fact that Zuko's voice actor is a fan.

[an-albino-pinetree]

A friend requested that I combine BOTH Freakshow TADC AUs

@hootbon ‘s Freakshow AU Jax

and

And my version of @kookydoodleky ‘s Freakshow AU Jax

anyways- we got this freak, and I kinda went ham n’ got carried away with my ideas for him, even if they really have nothing to do with either AU—

UNDER THE CUT you will find my bullshit ✨ WARNINGS: Potentially disturbing/triggering content mentions, dark horror elements, discussion of mild torture, injury, blood, sadistic tendency, knives, cuts, bruises, all that fun stuff that I like but some people don’t and that’s okay sdjhjh

Character and game route mechanic bullet points ✨🎡 (Boy howdy do I love myself a horror visual novel weeee!) :

Blending the two AUs was easy, all it had to be, was the mythical circus animals, from Kooky’s AU, but if they were severely mistreated.

-The Jackalope’s clown costume barely fits him anymore, and if one of the bells punched through his ears, for atheistic purposes by the ringmaster, catches on something, the wounds reopen, and they start to bleed again. This happens often.

-The physical pain and mental suffering, being a part of this circus has caused its attractions, has affected each one in a drastically different way.

The Jackalope:

-The Jackalope is a sadist.

-The Jackalope has eaten people.

-The Jackalope’s ear is bent due to a mild deformity

-The Jackalope has a strong obsession with games. Particularly card games.

-The Jackalope carries a deck of cards in his overalls pocket.

-In-Game, regardless of what dialogue choices you pick for The Jackalope, he will ask you if you want to play cards, at the end of every conversation.

-Do not take him up on his offer.

-He will ask you every time you interact with him. He may get increasingly pushy about the invite, but you will never be forced into a game.

-A strange rule of respect he won’t change? Worried his urgency to get you to play, will give away sinister intentions? We might never know the true reason.

-Although he will play fairly (until he starts to lose) he is brag-worthy good, and there are painful, sadistic, prices to pay, if you lose to him.

-He won’t kill you. It being “over” is not fun to him. But he will do just about anything that won’t kill you.

- He will also let you run away, after a few rounds/a few losing punishments, and will be surprised yet thrilled, if you choose to return to him for another game. (You need to do this to unlock a special ending and achievement)

Card Punishment Levels:

-If he’s damaging your body, he likes you. In his twisted head, that’s light punishment.

-If he’s damaging your hands in any way (aka, the things you need to play cards with him, and do just about any other life task easily, but that doesn’t mean as much to him) you’ve done something to make him really dislike you.

In-Game Violence Warnings and Injury Descriptions:

Knives

Cutting

Blood

Bruises

Broken bones

Wrist injury

Hand injury

Severing of fingers

Biting

Biting off fingers

Burning

[REDACTED]

[maxdibert]

Hi, regarding your "People who defend James’s stripping Severus in front of the entire school" Post. I am struggling with this from time to time, but I also like to ponder and discuss so:

I really like the fandom version of the Marauders, and I honestly do not really care for Snape because in the fics and art I interact with he is usually not part of. (I also read a lot of Muggle AU etc.. And I think another huge part is that I never really thought about how young he technically still was as a teacher because of Alan Rickman´s age. As a child I simply disliked him and never had an opinion on the Marauders as they appear so little in the movies. I guess it´s hard to move on from that?) What the Marauders did in Canon to Severus, and probably other students, was horrible. I agree. I also think Snape has his faults too, but the abuse against him shouldn´t be excused "because he was mean too". If you abuse and abuser, it´s still abuse.

I guess my question is what´s your opinion on the take to like the fanon version but not the canon version?

"The lengths some people go to twist facts and canon to conveniently excuse their favourite characters’ actions because they can’t accept them as they were is honestly incredible. Or maybe they just need to tell themselves they’re not fans of a couple of rich, abusive bullies because deep down they’d feel terrible about it—who knows."

To take the potential the Marauders have, the idea of a tight friend group in a magical school, explore different family dynamics... I like to play around with that and what was made of it. I think I can do that while acknowledging that what they did in canon was bad. It´s why I struggle with canon compliant stories, like their behaviour sucked. If I only knew the canon version I would not like them because I wouldn´t like "rich, abusive bullies". But changing the characters and their actions is, to me, part of what makes fanfics fun?

And of course I could do the same for Snape. But I didn´t and there is probably a lot to unpack on why I mostly ignore him. But. ultimately, to like him I would have to change him a lot from canon too. What the Marauders did as kids might have actually been worse (?) but how he became later makes me dislike him and for the Marauders we have more freedom to interpret how they turned out as adults. (Even though I just said changing the story is part of fandom and I could just make Snape nice... There are so many contradictions in all my thoughts on this topic)

Okay, this got really long and aybe a bit all over the place. You don´t have to answer this. But if you have any thought´s I´d be interested in hearing them :) This is also my first ever anon ask and I really don´t want to fight on this topic I just have a lot of thoughts.

My problem is precisely that the characters this new generation of the fandom has invented are unbearably boring. A bunch of normie kids who dress like Zendaya and her friends in Euphoria and have average teen drama issues that seem straight out of a cheap Netflix series. I mean, where’s the appeal in that? Where’s the appeal in turning Sirius into a whiny twink who just goes around pining for Remus Lupin—who, by the way, has suddenly become some sort of sassy alpha male—when their canon dynamic is way more interesting? When Sirius in canon is a guy with temper issues who thinks that just because he went to Gryffindor and has the “right ideas,” he’s managed to shake off the stigma of being a Black, yet remains as arrogant and violent as the rest of his family? When he has good intentions but has never really confronted who he is, where he comes from, and how ignoring that won’t make his behavior any less problematic? When he’s willing to do anything for James but simultaneously capable of deliberately ignoring Remus’s well-being? When he’s a rebel but still falls into the same abusive, hegemonic behaviors he was raised in? When it seems like his opposition to his family is a conscious choice, but it’s actually just the result of his mommy issues? He’s an incredibly complex character in canon, full of contradictions, and there’s so much interesting psychological exploration to be done with him. And you’re seriously telling me you prefer an OC with his name invented by the fandom who just cries over his non-canon boyfriend and feels validated because he paints his nails? Seriously???

Are you seriously telling me that James from the fandom—the goofy puppy dog protagonist pulled straight out of every cliché teen movie—is more interesting than canon James Potter, who is blessed with the wonderful depth of class hypocrisy for analysis and exploration? Are you really saying that a flat, soap-opera-level stereotype is better to write or develop than a rich kid who had every reason to be a Cedric Diggory but chose to be a Draco Malfoy? Are you really telling me it’s more interesting to write about the feminist girlboss icon of the 21st century that you’ve turned Lily Evans into rather than a complex, contradictory female character like the one in canon: a girl from a working-class town, spoiled and adored by her parents, who finds herself for the first time in a world that makes her feel even more special but where she doesn’t quite fit because of her background? Someone who, in her effort to fit in and be recognized, creates an image of herself as moralistic and perfect, yet in truth doesn’t stand up for or care about anything unless it directly affects her? The bullies target Mary Macdonald, and she doesn’t lift a finger or say a word until it suits her to end her friendship with Severus. She’s supposedly Severus’s best friend, but at the same time, she downplays the bullying he endures and even flirts with his abuser. She’s supposedly the epitome of morality, yet she marries a bully. Do you know how much room there is to flesh out those gaps? The things that aren’t clear? The sheer depth you can draw from that? And you seriously prefer a character ripped out of a 2012 Taylor Swift song over that? Is that honestly more interesting to you?

Do you really think that the sassy alpha-male version of Remus Lupin, full of quick-witted one-liners, is more compelling than the kid who disapproved of his friends’ actions but stayed silent out of desperation to preserve the safe space they represented for him? Who felt consistently left out of the bond James and Sirius shared? Who, even when what they did seemed utterly immoral, stepped aside because deep down he was so afraid of rejection that it made him a coward and a hypocrite? Who eventually drifted away from his entire group of friends because of his inferiority complex to the point that they even thought he was a traitor? One of his supposed friends nearly used him as a weapon to commit murder, and he forgave him without a word because he knew that standing up to him might mean losing everything. Are you really telling me that the cheap romantic drama version is more interesting than all of that in terms of exploring a character and the dynamics of dysfunctional friendships within that group? Really? Are you seriously saying you’d rather pretend Peter was just “there” than delve into how they treated him like a pet because he went along with all their mischief and they underestimated him so much they never realized they had a sadist among them? You prefer a convenient, nice Peter over a dark, deeply flawed one? Really?

Yes, the dynamic among the Marauders is fascinating, but it’s fascinating because it’s dysfunctional, full of power imbalances, clear differences in the relationships within the group, and a ton of things that don’t make sense unless you provide a coherent and in-depth explanation. It’s in that dysfunction where the intrigue, the plot, and the character exploration lie—not in creating an idyllic, problem-free group of friends whose drama arises from stereotypical romantic relationships. Not in creating OCs with canon names who bear no resemblance to the actual characters and have the depth of a sheet of paper. Sorry, but no.

And sorry, but I’m not buying the argument that the Marauders are “easier to explore” just because Sirius and Remus made it to adulthood, and Thewlis and Oldman were already in their 40s when they played their characters, making them middle-aged like Rickman. And Snape was their same age and spent the same school years with them.

So yeah, it’s fine if you’re not interested in a character, but the excuse is always, “I haven’t seen much of that character to be interested in them.” Well, if you only move in your own echo chamber, and that chamber happens to be full of haters, obviously you’re not going to see much. There’s a huge Snape fandom with tons of headcanons, people constantly creating and writing all kinds of content with all sorts of pairings and perspectives on him—you just have to look for it. I mean, literally, everything we know about the Marauders is because of Snape. Their youth only exists to enrich and explain Snape’s character. If we know anything about Lily and James, it’s because they serve to fill in Snape’s backstory. Otherwise, we would have only had the adult versions Harry imagines or knows (Remus, Sirius, and Peter), and we’d know nothing about what happened before. There is no Marauders fandom without Snape, because the concept of the Marauders as teenagers exists because of and for Snape’s backstory.

So honestly, my problem isn’t with the fandom but with the new fandom and its vision of the characters. Characters that don’t exist because they don’t resemble canon and instead feel like self-inserts with canon names. And I find it a waste because canon is so rich, and its characters are so unexplored, yes, but if explored coherently, they’re far more interesting than if they’re just turned into inconsistent projections.

[knoepfl]

A Halloween to Die For

Hey hello there! Since today is Halloween (in Germany) I thought I'd do something special^^ During the day there will be several posts about certain characters during Halloween! So make sure to check Tumblr out for once in a while. Be prepared and enjoy Stu Macher as you boyfriend on Halloween. I swear its a SCREAM!!! ♡♡♡

Characters: Stu Macher × You (Reader)

Trigger Warnings: Read it and find out~

Masterlist

Words: 2055

---

Halloween had always been special in Woodsboro, but this year felt different. Maybe it was because of the biting autumn air, or maybe it was because you were spending it with him—Stu Macher, the guy who always found a way to make even the most ordinary days feel like an adventure. And today wasn’t going to be ordinary at all.

---

Your alarm rang early, too early, but before you could even rub the sleep from your eyes, a knock came from your window. Stu. You could already feel your heart skip a beat as you groggily pulled the curtains aside, revealing his wild grin. He was standing outside, in full werewolf costume—fake fur, snout, and all.

“Morning, babe!” he yelled, his breath fogging up the glass. “Ready for the best Halloween ever?”

You smiled, half-amused and half-exasperated, as you slid the window open a bit. "Stu, it’s not even eight. How are you already this hyper?"

"I live for Halloween, you know that!" he exclaimed, hopping down from the windowsill. “Come on, we gotta hit school early. You know Billy’s already planning pranks, and I won’t let him have all the fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile at his energy. Stu had a way of pulling you into his chaotic world, and as much as you loved it, today you had a plan of your own. But first, you had to survive school.

---

Woodsboro High was decked out for Halloween—paper skeletons hanging from lockers, carved pumpkins in the courtyard, and a buzz of excitement filling the halls. Almost everyone was in costume, but none were quite as loud as Stu’s. His werewolf howls echoed through the corridors, making students laugh or roll their eyes, and teachers give him warning looks. But Stu was Stu, and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do to control him.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t donned your costume yet. That was reserved for later—the grand reveal. Stu had no idea what you were planning, but you knew it would blow his mind. Until then, you played along with his pranks and antics, trying to keep up with his relentless energy.

Lunch was spent with Billy, as usual. He gave Stu a deadpan look, unimpressed by his werewolf ensemble. “Seriously, man? A werewolf?”

Stu just grinned, flashing his fake fangs. “Better than your brooding trench coat, Loomis. Trying to be Dracula or just a moody guy?”

Billy smirked but didn’t answer. He was more focused on the upcoming night, his eyes dark and calculating. You knew Billy had plans for tonight, darker than Stu’s playful tricks, but for now, it was just pranks and laughter.

Stu kept you close throughout the day, stealing kisses between classes and pulling you into his whirlwind of pranks. At one point, he managed to set off a harmless but shocking popper in a teacher’s desk, sending papers flying and students into hysterics. You laughed so hard that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

Between classes, he’d tug you aside, pressing you against lockers and leaning in close, his grin softening into something more affectionate. “You having fun yet?”

You’d always nod, your heart racing when he was near. He had that effect on you—wild, unpredictable, but also sweet in ways no one else saw.

---

As the school day ended, Stu practically dragged you out of the building. His excitement was contagious, but you had your own agenda. "I have to head home for a bit," you told him as you walked to the parking lot.

Stu’s face twisted into a playful pout. "Home? Babe, we have a haunted house to hit!"

You smiled. "I know, but I need to get ready for tonight. I’ll meet you at the haunted house, okay?"

He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, but eventually shrugged. “Fine, fine. But don’t keep me waiting too long. I wanna scare the crap out of you in there.”

Laughing, you kissed him on the cheek and slipped away, knowing your costume reveal later would be worth the wait.

---

The sun had just begun to set when you met Stu outside the Woodsboro Haunted House. It was a yearly attraction, and while some found it cheesy, Stu lived for it. The place was packed with kids from school, all eager to experience the horror inside. The exterior was draped in fake cobwebs, and eerie green lights illuminated the crooked, makeshift mansion. You could hear the screams of those already inside, and it sent a chill down your spine.

Stu, standing at the entrance in his ridiculous werewolf costume, was practically bouncing on his feet when he saw you. “There’s my girl! Ready for some scares?”

You smiled, a mix of excitement and nerves twisting in your stomach. Stu grabbed your hand, his excitement contagious, and led you inside.

The haunted house was dark, with low-hanging fog rolling along the ground. Every few steps, something jumped out—an actor in a bloody mask or a hand reaching from a coffin. Stu laughed at each one, throwing an arm around your shoulders, his body warm against yours.

At one point, a chainsaw-wielding maniac burst through the walls, revving his weapon and chasing a group of girls. You yelped in surprise, but Stu just grinned, pulling you closer. "You scared yet?" he teased, his breath warm against your ear.

You shook your head, laughing despite the adrenaline. “Nope, just having fun.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause the real fun starts later.”

---

After the haunted house, you told Stu you’d meet him at the party. “I need to get into costume,” you said, smiling mysteriously.

Stu pouted but agreed, giving you a quick kiss before heading off to his house to help set up. His curiosity was piqued, and you could see it in his eyes—he had no idea what to expect.

When you got home, you took your time getting ready. The costume you’d chosen was far better than anything you’d worn before—a stunning, ethereal outfit that blended elegance and a dark, haunting beauty. You looked in the mirror, your confidence rising as you finished the final touches. Stu had no idea what was coming.

---

Stu’s house was packed by the time you arrived, the loud music and laughter spilling out onto the lawn. The decorations were over-the-top, as expected, with orange and purple lights illuminating the sprawling front yard, and fog machines creating an eerie atmosphere.

When you stepped inside, the room seemed to pause for a moment. Heads turned, eyes widening as you made your way through the crowd. You knew your costume was impressive, but seeing the reactions made you feel unstoppable. And then you spotted him—Stu, standing in the middle of the room with Billy by his side, his eyes practically popping out of his head when he saw you.

“Holy—” Stu started, pushing his way through the crowd to reach you. His jaw dropped as he took you in, his goofy werewolf costume suddenly paling in comparison. “Babe, you look—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, his hands hovering awkwardly, like he didn’t know where to touch without ruining the costume.

You smiled, twirling slightly so the fabric swirled around you. “You like?”

“Like? Babe, you’re the hottest thing in here! I mean, I knew you were gonna blow me away, but damn!” He grabbed your hand, pulling you into a tight hug, his excitement bubbling over. “Come on, we gotta show you off!”

Stu paraded you around the party like a proud boyfriend, grinning ear to ear as he introduced you to everyone—even those who already knew you. He couldn’t help himself, his hands always resting on your waist or pulling you close to his side.

---

As the night wore on, the party at Stu’s house reached its wildest peak. People were everywhere, the music blaring, and laughter mixed with shouts echoed throughout the house. Stu, ever the life of the party, had been drinking more than usual. By now, he was stumbling through the crowd, his arm lazily draped over your shoulder, trying to keep himself upright.

“Babe, c’mon,” Stu slurred, leaning heavily against you as you guided him up the stairs toward his room. “I’m not done yet! We gotta… we gotta party more!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his drunken insistence, even though it was clear he was completely done for the night. “Stu, you can barely walk. Let’s get you to bed, okay? You’ve had enough for one night.”

He pouted, his lower lip sticking out in a way that made him look oddly boyish, despite his towering frame. “But I don’t wanna go to bed. The party’s still going!”

“I know, but you’re not going to enjoy it much if you pass out on the floor,” you said gently, keeping your arm around his waist to steady him as you reached his bedroom.

Pushing the door open, you led him inside, and Stu flopped down onto the bed with a dramatic groan. “You’re no fun,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleepiness, even though he was still trying to act like he was ready for more.

You smiled softly, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed. “I’m plenty of fun. But right now, you need to get some rest.”

Stu’s eyes were half-closed, but he looked up at you with a dazed, needy expression. “Don’t leave, though,” he muttered, reaching out to grab your hand. His fingers were clumsy and a little sweaty, but the gesture was sweet. “Stay with me… I don’t wanna be alone.”

You chuckled lightly, running your thumb over his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere, Stu. I’ll stay right here.”

He let out a whiny little noise, his body shifting restlessly on the bed as if he couldn’t quite get comfortable. “Mmm… you always make me feel better,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a softer, almost vulnerable tone. “Just… just don’t leave, okay? I need you.”

You felt your heart melt at how soft and helpless he sounded. It wasn’t often that Stu let his guard down like this, but when he did, it always tugged at something deep inside you. Leaning down, you gently caressed his cheek, your fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. “I’m right here,” you whispered. “I’ll stay with you.”

Stu leaned into your touch, his eyelids fluttering as he let out a quiet sigh. “You’re… you’re the best,” he mumbled, his words slurring even more as sleep began to take hold. “I don’t… don’t deserve you.”

You smiled softly, your hand drifting up to his hair, running your fingers through the messy strands. He always loved when you did that—it seemed to calm him down, even when he was at his most energetic. His eyes fluttered shut as he nuzzled his head into the pillow, the tension in his body slowly melting away as your fingers worked through his hair in gentle, soothing strokes.

“You’re such a baby when you’re drunk,” you teased lightly, though your voice was filled with affection.

Stu let out a soft, whiny groan, barely coherent as he clung to your hand. “Not a baby… just… tired. And I want you here.”

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I’m here, Stu. Just relax, okay? I’ll be right by your side.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, and his breathing started to even out as sleep began to claim him. But before he drifted off completely, he whispered, “Love you… so much…”

Your heart swelled at the words, a warmth spreading through you as you continued to stroke his hair. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice soft and full of emotion.

Stu finally fell silent, his body sinking deeper into the bed, and you stayed with him, your fingers still gently running through his hair. The party downstairs was still raging on, but up here, in this quiet moment, it was just you and him. It was in these moments, when Stu let down his guard and showed his more vulnerable side, that you were reminded of just how much he meant to you.

You stayed by his side, your hand resting on his cheek as he slept, a soft smile tugging at your lips. No matter how wild the night had been, it always came back to this—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, finding comfort in the quiet moments.

---

Happy Halloween

[ultimatelytired]

Bells

word count: 3975

Fandom: Poppy Playtime Pairing: N/A Pronouns: He/Him Relationship: N/A Occupation: Enforcer Ability: Court Jester

The character takes the appearance of a Victorian-era court jester, while their face is the only thing made of plaster their body consists of poly-blend sateen fabric, and their insides are filled with polyfill, allowing their body to bend and twist however they want, allowing them to get into even the smallest of crevices. They have a removable mask that they can replace with different ones that signify emotions but they're usually wearing the comedy mask, they also have bells on the end of their hat that jingles each time they move.

Keys:

n/a

Warnings: spoilers to chapter 4 and those who haven't played nor seen the game, blood, death and all that shit.

@ghrgrsfdesfrfg recommended this and I was heavily invested in this idea

Playtime Co. is releasing a once-in-a-lifetime toy!

Prepare to be captivated by the Royal Jester, a breathtakingly detailed action figure unlike any other. This stunning collectible stands tall and proud, boasting a regal design that blends the sinister charm of a jester with the power of a king.

The Royal Jester is a collector’s dream – a statement piece that merges art and imagination. This is more than just a toy; it's an artwork, a conversation starter, and a prized addition to any collection of fantasy and gothic figurines. Perfect for fans of dark fantasy, playing cards, or unique character designs!

There are four limited-edition Jesters; the four brothers of each suit.

The Royal Jesters of Spades, Clubs, Hearts and Diamonds!

Which one will you pick?

-

Subject: 1236

Original Procedure: 10/91

Behavior:

Assigned to the Game Station as one of the new games added to the area, Experiment 1236 is much different from his three "brothers". Before he was transferred into the body he inhabits now, he already had severe behavioral issues to the point it would be dangerous to leave him alone with any of the children. Showing signs where he lacked empathy, a disregard for rules, and was prone to random acts of violence.

This behavior transferred over into his new body and had to be confined within the prison where the staff advised we keep him locked up, but I found his behavior rather intriguing. The few staff that monitor him had commented how 1236 likes to play "games" with them, where he hides in the room and only comes out when the staff are fully in the room, that is when he reveals himself and attacks them.

He has still retained his cognitive thinking but his craving for violence is what makes the others reluctant to leave him around any of the children, that is why I suggested we leave 1222, as well as his brothers, to monitor him closely from being alone with any of the children. As long as we keep him well entertained he shouldn't have the need to act out, he wouldn't dare bite at the hand that feeds him.

Conclusion:

So long as he doesn't harm any of the children, have him remain within the Game Station for further monitoring.

I believe Leith Pierre will find some use in him.

Signature: Dr. Harley Sawyer

-

"Hi, kids! Welcome to the Game Station! I'm Stella, and we've got four super-duper fun games to play! These little tests show us just how crazy strong and smart you are! Follow Mommy Long Legs down the stairs, and she'll show you our latest game! See you in a bit!" Mommy giggled to herself as the children ran around her arms and legs, a few even grabbing her by one of her hands to tug her toward the entrance that read "Scavenger," where the four Kings resided.

"Come along now, children. We have four new friends to meet!" They all cheered in excitement—new games were always so thrilling. "Stay close to Mommy now; we don't want any of you getting lost."

"Yes, Mommy!" Unlike the other three games, "Scavenger" took place in a grand theatre that had the children marveling in awe. They all gasped and huddled around Mommy when the lights turned off before, one by one, they switched back on, leading up toward the stage to reveal four beautifully decorated boxes with a symbol on each: a black spade and club, and a red heart and diamond. The children approached the stage eagerly, waiting to see what would happen. They let out startled screams when the lids of the boxes burst open in a flurry of confetti and four figures jumped out of their respective boxes, the curtains behind them opening and a band started playing circus music.

"Guests!"

"We have guests!"

"What a surprise!"

"A pleasant surprise!" All four figures bowed their heads, and when they lifted them, they wore tragedy and comedy masks with different markings. The owners of the club and heart boxes wore the tragedy masks, while the spade and diamond owners wore the comedy masks. Over the mask’s sockets, their respective symbols were painted in either red or black. "Allow us to introduce ourselves, dear children! We are the Royal Court's Four Jesters!"

"I am the Royal Jester of Spades!"

"I am the Royal Jester of Clubs!"

"I am the Royal Jester of Hearts!"

"And I am the Royal Jester of Diamonds!" As they announced their names, they bowed once more, and the children clapped excitedly. The Jester of Spades was about to speak, but the Jester of Diamonds stepped forward and spoke ahead of him. Though Spade was technically the leader of the Jester Brothers, Diamond had a way with words that captivated the children far more. Despite being the "eldest" of the four, Spade's role often faded into the background because of Diamond's influence "We have a game for you, children, that'll put your minds to the test! Are you ready for such a task?"

"We're ready!" The children’s enthusiasm made Diamond laugh. He snapped his fingers, and more lights illuminated the theatre, revealing several boxes scattered throughout.

"This game is simple," he continued as he and his brothers flipped over their own boxes and reached inside to pull out cards.

"Each box has a symbol corresponding to our suits."

"Inside the boxes, you'll find a card with the same suit…"

"Or you'll find a nasty surprise waiting for you," the four jesters said in unison, laughing together.

"When you find four cards of the same suit—"

"You must then find the matching brother."

"We will be hiding in our boxes somewhere in the theatre."

"And the winner is the one who finds all four cards and one of us first!" With that, the jesters slammed the lids on their boxes shut and stepped forward. "Shall this game begin?"

"Yeah!" The children shouted with glee. The jesters tossed their cards into the air, which exploded into a cloud of smoke. When it cleared, both they and their boxes had vanished.

"What are you waiting for, children? Go and find them!" Mommy cheered. The children quickly scattered, heading toward the many boxes. Mommy stayed behind, keeping her eyes on the boxes bearing the diamond suit. She knew the brothers had left out an important detail: they were constantly moving, slipping unseen from box to box, and occasionally stealing cards from the children to keep the game going. Sometimes, they even hid in the wrong suit’s box just to pop out and surprise the children, snatching more cards. But it was the Jester of Diamonds she kept the closest watch on. He was the most unpredictable of them all—no matter how hard she tried to track his movements, he always stayed one step ahead.

Mommy wasn’t allowed to interfere with the games unless a child's life was at stake—but Diamond knew better than to cross that line. He didn’t want this game to end prematurely. When a couple of screams rang out, Mommy tensed—only to sigh in relief when she saw it was one of the "nasty surprises": small marionette dolls modeled after the four brothers, similar to the Mini-Huggies. The dolls would jump out of boxes to scare the children and sometimes snatch a card before retreating. As a few of the brothers popped out of their boxes, there was still no sign of Diamond. He always liked to play the waiting game.

"Mommy, Mommy! Look, I found all four cards!" A child ran up, waving their cards excitedly. Mommy clapped her hands to congratulate them, but froze when she saw they were diamond cards.

"Oh, how wonderful. Now you must find the Royal Jester of Diamonds to win! You better hurry—he’s the trickiest one to find." The child gasped and dashed off to search for the diamond-suited box. The jesters always knew when a child had gathered four cards and would either hide or keep the game going by relocating to a distant box. A sudden scream drew Mommy’s attention. It was the same child, being dragged into one of the boxes. She rushed over and flung the lid open—only to find it completely empty.

Panic gripped her until a chorus of cheers rose from the stage. She turned to see the four brothers emerging from the diamond box, with the Jester of Heart at the bottom holding up Spade and Club. At the top stood Diamond, the victorious child perched on his shoulder.

"And we have a winner!" Diamond announced. "Please, give a round of applause to our lucky champion, who found all four of my cards!"

"Yay, you did it!"

"Good job finding him!"

"That was really hard!" The other children chimed in. Diamond gently set the child on the stage and took the four cards from them. With a swift motion, he transformed the cards into a golden crown. The children gasped as he placed it on his head. "We have a new King of the Court!" The four jesters bowed low before the child.

"Whoa, a king!"

"He's the king!"

"I'm jealous."

"Maybe we can try again another day."

"Ahaha! We’re so glad you liked our game," Heart said, rising.

"But there are still more games to play—"

"Like Musical Memory—"

"And Wack-a-Wuggy—"

"And Statues!" The children giggled excitedly. Mommy called them to follow her to the next game, casting one last wary glance at Diamond as his eyes lingered on her retreating figure.

"You shouldn't keep the rest of our friends waiting!" The four jesters bid the children goodbye, but Heart, Club, and Spade couldn't help but notice how all the children flocked around Diamond the most. It was irritating—no matter how hard they tried to appeal to the children, Diamond's natural charisma always made him the favorite. They just couldn't compete. "Now, children, follow Mommy out so she can lead you to where our friend Bunzo Bunny is waiting for you!" Diamond waved at Mommy, and she quickly ushered the children away, peeling the ones clinging to him off with a gentle touch.

"Mister Diamond is right! We still have three more games to play, so let's move on to Musical Memory!" Mommy’s voice was cheerful, but she could practically feel Diamond's gaze on her back as they walked away. She chose not to comment on it.

"You did it again, Diamond!" Spade's voice hissed with frustration the moment they were alone. It infuriated them that Diamond was so good at masking his true feelings—his unreadable nature only made it worse. Spade growled as Diamond shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, don’t just shrug your shoulders. You know exactly what you did." Diamond scoffed, his tone laced with mock innocence.

"Please. I do a lot of things. If you want me to take responsibility for whatever's made you angry, you’ll have to be more specific." He took a step forward, and Heart quickly moved between them, stopping Spade from doing anything rash. "Come now, use your big boy words and tell the class what’s upset you." Spade’s hand clenched into a tight fist before he jabbed a finger toward Diamond’s face.

"You know I’m the leader, Diamond! I’m the one who’s supposed to explain the rules when the children enter!" Diamond chuckled, casually swatting Spade’s hand aside.

"Oh? Is that so? But if you’re the leader, why am I the face of the Royal Jester Brothers?" He gestured toward a nearby banner depicting the four of them. Despite their central grouping, Diamond’s colors were more vibrant and bold compared to the others. "I don't mean to step on your toes, brother. I just think you need to be more creative with your words. We’re jesters! We’re meant to wow and amaze the crowd—to entertain and make them laugh! You should work on your approach." Heart nodded thoughtfully.

"He’s right, Spade."

"Wha—"

"He’s got that charm we lack, dude," Club added with a shrug. "We mostly just follow his lead or stick to the script."

"But… I’m not boring, right?" Spade’s voice wavered, Heart and Club exchanged an awkward glance.

"Ehh…" Diamond laughed, the bells on his hat jingling with the motion.

"Don’t fret. You can just leave it to me! Our game has only just opened—there’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Let me share that burden with you. You don’t have to worry about capturing the audience—I can handle that. Or if you’d prefer, I can give you some tips on how to really win them over."

"Yeah, he’s been helping us out too," Club added.

"You shouldn’t blame him, Spade," Heart said gently. "The children had fun and loved our performance. Isn’t that what really matters?"

"I… I suppose you’re right." Spade’s frustration deflated, and he sighed.

"It’s fine," Diamond said with a dismissive wave. "You probably just got overwhelmed." The tension dissolved quickly, but as Diamond turned away, his expression beneath the mask twisted into one of quiet disgust. Pathetic. Spade’s need for attention was so disappointing. Diamond genuinely didn’t understand why Spade was so worked up—he thought he was doing him a favor by taking control of the narrative.

"Diamond!" A sharp voice called from below. Diamond’s head perked up, and he peered over the theatre’s upper railing to spot Leith Pierre, Head of Innovation and CEO of Playtime Co. "Get down here. I have a job for you." Diamond’s sinister mask glistened under the spotlight. A job? Intriguing. He leapt over the railing, landing gracefully on the backrest of a chair. Leith grimaced and edged away from the jester’s too-close, too-creepy face.

"How can I help you, Mister Pierre?" Diamond asked, his arms swinging loosely in front of him.

"There are a few… 'rodents' running around who’ve gotten into something they shouldn’t have. I need you to locate and dispose of them. I don’t care how you do it—just make sure they’re no longer a problem. And keep it quiet. We don’t want our guests knowing we have a pest issue." A shiver ran down Leith’s spine as Diamond tilted his head, his mask’s empty sockets somehow conveying an unsettling glee.

"However I want?" Leith cleared his throat, taking another step back.

"Yes, yes. Play with them for all I care—just make sure no one sees."

"You can count on me, sir." Diamond bowed low, his tone dripping with mock formality.

"Right… You’re the only one I trust for this sort of cleanup," Leith muttered.

The Jester Brothers shared some abilities with Mommy Long Legs—though their limbs didn’t stretch quite as far, they could extend their arms a fair distance. Their arms and legs are capable of rapid extension and retraction and can effectively evade harm by contouring their body and bouncing away in a spring-like fashion. With this in mind, Diamond slipped easily into the factory’s ventilation system, crawling through pipes and squeezing into crevices with eerie grace. This was why he behaved, why he didn’t lash out when Spade overstepped. The real fun began when he was set loose.

The thrill of the hunt was irresistible—tracking down the employees no one would miss was his favorite game of all.

This is what happens when you wander where you don’t belong, the man thought when Leith gave him this job after catching him in a restricted area within the Game Station. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As he ventured deeper into the factory, the voices and sounds of the other staff grew distant, their echoes bouncing off the cold, industrial walls. He could practically hear the hum of water through the pipes and the scurrying steps of mice. This was fine—he liked working on his own anyway. All he had to do was fix the burst pipes and be on his merry little way.

When he located the pipes, he quickly got to work, the silence around him becoming a source of comfort compared to the loud screaming of children playing in the Game Station. The thought of children made him think of his own family waiting for him at home. He could still remember the looks on their faces when he told them he was working for Playtime Co. It wasn’t a glamorous job—he didn’t get to interact with the toys or mascots—just a simple engineering role where he fixed whatever was broken. As he continued to work, he began to faintly hear a subtle sound: tapping. He couldn’t quite make out what it was, but he knew it wasn’t water dripping onto the pipes. It sounded more… metallic.

He shook his head, deciding to ignore it in favor of finishing the task at hand, but the feeling of being watched began to creep over him.

The tapping didn’t cease. In fact, it almost seemed like it was playing a sort of beat. If he focused hard enough, he could almost recognize it—it sounded like the music that played when you entered the Jester's Theatre. With that realization, his nerves tightened. He picked up his flashlight, shining it around even though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

He swallowed thickly, his mind drifting back to the gossip and rumors his fellow engineers spread just to spook each other—how staff would disappear without a trace when they ventured too deep into the factory. It always started with distant tapping, mimicking the music from the Game Station. Then came the bells. You knew you were in danger when you heard jingling bells—subtle meant you were still safe, but if they were close… that meant whatever was making the sound was near.

No. No, he was just being paranoid. Rumors were just rumors. Right?

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart, but his breath hitched when the bells started—and they were close. Too close.

Forget this. Mister Pierre can shove it—I’m getting the heck out of here.

In his panic, he left his equipment behind, sprinting back down the hall from which he’d come. The tapping, the bells—what came next? What came nex—

"Hahaha…~"

The laughter.

He’d been spotted.

He risked a glance back and froze. Through the suffocating darkness, a faint glow stared back at him—two points of light, fixed directly on him. Those rumors weren’t rumors after all. Fear surged through him, and without a second thought, he ran.

The laughter grew louder, bouncing off the walls and ringing through the corridors. The noise behind him kept getting closer, no matter how fast he ran. Whatever was chasing him was fast—too fast for it to be human. Was this why people had been disappearing? Was he next? Had Mister Pierre sent him here on purpose, knowing what would happen?

He turned a corner sharply—and collided hard with a pipe.

The impact knocked him to the ground, his vision swimming as pain blossomed across his forehead. Dazed, he pressed a hand to his head, trying to quell the throbbing ache. The sound of bells drew closer, the metallic jingling slow and deliberate.

He didn’t dare look up.

"Awww… what’s the matter?" a sing-song voice cooed from above him. "Did you fall down? Poor little thing." a whimper escaped his lips, his body trembling as he fought to crawl backward.

"P-please… please don’t… I-I didn’t even want to be here… I—"

"Oh, but you are here!" his interrupted gleefully, the bells around on his hat jingling with every movement. "And you’ve been so very rude, sneaking around where you shouldn’t be. Tsk, tsk. What should I do with you?"

"Please… I-I have a family… kids…" his voice cracked, tears spilling down his face. For a moment, there was silence. Then a soft giggle.

"Ohhh, I love it when they beg." The voice was right in front of him now, and he felt a cold hand grasp his chin, forcing his head up. The fallen flashlight managed to reveal the figure above him and there he saw the Jester of Diamonds strung up within the pipes, his limbs curling around them to keep his body suspended "Beg some more. It’s my favorite part." his laughter rung out again as his free arm wrapped around the engineer, caging him within his arm then hoisting off the ground.

"N-No, please! I beg of you, d-don't hurt me..." his mask slowly lifted away, revealing something far more monstrous than any toy should have been. The face beneath the mask was a grotesque parody of a jester’s grin—wide and stretched too far, with jagged, uneven teeth glistening with saliva and fresh blood. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, mixing with the crimson that stained his lips. The smell of iron was sharp and suffocating.

The last thing the man saw was that terrible, twisted smile lunging toward him.

Later, the sound of gnawing filled the corridor. Diamond crouched over the broken body, his sharp teeth tearing into flesh with wet, squelching sounds. Blood dripped down his face and hands as he fed with terrifying enthusiasm, his shoulders shaking with occasional giggles of delight. When he finally stood, his grin was wide and satisfied.

"Delicious," he whispered to no one in particular, his voice thick with amusement.

When he left, he made sure to block off the area so no other human employee would stumble upon the "mess" he’d made. Speaking of mess, he glanced down at himself and sighed at the blood soaking his costume. Returning to the theatre through the ventilation shaft, he slinked into the dressing room and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it empty. The company was kind enough to provide different costumes for him and his brothers, and he quickly changed into a fresh one, trashing the bloodied outfit without a second thought.

Humming a cheerful tune, he left the dressing room in search of Mister Pierre.

"Look, look! It's the Jester of Diamonds!"

"Hi Jester! Your game was fun to play!"

"I hope we can play it again!" Diamond waved at the children as he walked through the Game Station toward the train, where he spotted Leith alongside one of the scientists. Wanting to reach them quicker, he used his powerful legs to spring himself over the crowd of children, eliciting gasps and laughter. Stretching his arms out with an exaggerated flourish, he cushioned his fall and landed gracefully right in front of Leith, his bells jingling softly as he straightened up.

"Ah! Just the toy I was hoping to see!" Diamond gives a dramatic bow, but Leith waves his hand to dismiss him. "Enough of the flair—did you do what I asked?" Both he and the scientist notice how some blood dripped out from behind Diamond’s mask. The jester chuckled softly, his tongue peeking out to lick it clean.

"Yes, sir. The rodents have been exterminated—you just need someone to clean up the mess." Leith smiled and clapped his hands.

"Wonderful! I'll be sure to reward you later." Leith said with satisfaction but Diamond shook his head.

"There should be no need, sir. My reward was the fun I had while playing my game of hide and seek."

"Ah hah, right. Well, you can go back to playing with the children. I'll be sure to keep sending you more 'playmates' to keep you entertained." Leith could see the way the jester practically glowed at the prospect of more “games.” Satisfied, Diamond left the two men and returned to his brothers and Mommy, seamlessly slipping back into their playful routine. Leith sighed to himself. "As much as he freaks me out, he's almost as handy as Boxy Boo." Harley Sawyer chuckled.

"Indeed, but he's far more intriguing than 1160. He makes a game out of it, no matter what you ask of him," he said, watching how Diamond played with the children alongside his brothers and Mommy. "What a masterpiece he turned out to be."