#and if i wanted updates i had to do it myself

[cokoweee]

There are a few things that I really liked about this “nothing” update. (But also as a writer, I love these “small, mundane moments”) So something about this expression, I don’t know if I can google it, but it feels like a Donnie expression from the series. He’s annoyed, he’s mentally and physically exhausted, but he knows he has to check on her. He needs to make sure that Kendra is okay, before the alcohol erases everything.

And moving forward, the expressions in here are delectable! Donnie’s awkwardness, irritation, and concern are cracking through the big ass wall he’s built around himself. No longer is he fronting blank or angry expressions, he’s really being open, and I love, love, love how we can really see how he’s feeling about her.

Also this paneling! I envy you! (I’m still figuring that out myself) It could be one big panel, but I love how you split it in half to give focus on Kendra’s admittance, and Donnie’s hand shaking. Last update he was lambasting himself on why he wasn’t more angry at being kissed without consent. Here he is considering that with Kendra it would be different, and here she is saying she drunk herself into a stupor so she could forget the night. Though to be fair, I feel like Kendra is trying to remember the eldritch horror that is Big Mama more than anything.

And then… a little vulnerability. Donnie tells her that if she had decided to kiss him, without Big Mama’s coercion, not only would he not have minded, he would want her to remember that they shared that moment. It’s not a full confession, but it’s definitely not a “kissing you is not the worst thing, in fact, I would have welcomed it.” And considering everything, that is a big deal to Donnie, especially since he tried to back track immediately. But that caught Kendra’s attention!

And poor Donnie, holding his tail for sensory comfort again, having said his piece.

And Kendra looks back at him… so yeah, she does go inside after him. It’s a little hard to place her thoughts, but she is tired, drunk, and maybe has a shift in perspective. But she is still likely forgetting in the morning…

But also, knowing you do like visual foreshadowing and theming… I’m a little worried about the cigarette in the blood image… What are you planning?!

(Side note, it completely glossed over my mind that Donnie’s markings were covered up last few updates, despite you telling us that was what the goop was for…but that was so sweet that Kendra wiped them off, I died)

Expressions! I never know them but I do make them when I draw! No mirror though so it’s solely based on how the emotion feels on the face.

Paneling! I honestly just imagine a movie camera and how it moves. Using panels to emphasize what I want you guys to see but pretty sure everyone thinks like that ahevrhwjd

Drawing Donnie more expressive is fun. Haven’t done it in a long while whehahehe and as for your last question…

>:)

[tinydefector]

Behind the Scenes - DC

Tim Drake x Male Reader Series.

Soo..... I might have decided to dip my toes into writing for DC, I'm still going to be writing Transformers Fics too but I really wanted to make this mainly for myself, it make turn into an x Oc but we will wait and see, the first part is mainly just the Prologue and it's Tim centred without a reader introduced yet.

_____________

Word count: 3.4K

Warnings: nothing.

Masterlist

Next

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Tim had been staring at the screen now for hours, fingers dancing across the keyboard as he went, he had fallen down the rabbit hole of another case. Honestly he wouldn't have cursed at himself getting so invested in another Riddler case, but in truth he loved the challenge, cross examining every little detail from the scenes, the Clues. In some ways dealing with Riddler was like a break for him, the Riddler despised him, he figured things out way too quickly for Nigma's liking and ruined His plans half the time, and Timothy revealed it. 

Tim wasn't interested in the riddles, no he was far more interested in the smaller details such as the barrel with a grain meal logo on it. It was so out of place, new compared to most of the other stuff that had been at the scene. It was possible he had somewhat narrowed down where Riddler was, and it was all due to the Rogue not being thorough enough. “Red Robin To Nightwing” he calls into his ear piece after switching channels. 

“Hear you loud and clear RR” Dick had called back. “I believe Riddler is in Blüdhaven, at BGM Grains factory or shipment warehouse from what i've been able to gather, he's starting to get sloppy” Tim remarked while taking a mouthful of his coffee only for his nose to scrunch up slightly at how cold it had gotten. 

“Hmm I'll check it out, Penguin’s also been making his rounds around Haven, I'll drop in and see if I can spot Riddler might finally catch him after the hell he's being causing B” Dick remarks, there's a slight static sound along with the whooshing of wind. “Keep me updated, I'm going to do some more digging, Oracle might even be able to tap me into the camera” he stretches slightly, his joints popping and cracking with a sigh before he focuses back in. 

“you're game, Weren't you meant to be in bed three hours ago, you have an appointment tomorrow at WE with manufacturing and Marketing” Nightwing remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Tim rolls his eyes before drinking more of his coffee, at this rate he would just make sure to have two caffeine capsules, some dayquil and most likely coffee before he leaves in the morning if Alfred doesn't insist on him having Tea instead. 

“ Hmmm, says the man who had Chief Delmore Redhorn up his ass, Must be fun having your boss pile you with paperwork and put you on mall duty” Tim retorts effortlessly, he was used to playing this game with Dick, the back and forth jabs over work.

 “Careful RR, B might decide to demote you if you keep showing up to WE looking like a zombie” he teases back which earns a scoff from Tim "that's what make-up is for Big bird, to cover up the baggage and Trauma That this family carries” he snarks with a roll of his eyes. There was next to nothing that Fitcover, some eye drops, caffeine and Cologne couldn't mask.

“Whatever you say T. But I'm serious if you don't log off, I'll be calling Oracle and tell her to disable your connection. It's 3:47am go to bed” Dick says sternly, which earns a huff From Tim. “Ah don't, I'll have Alfred down there to drag you up, it's log off time” Dick continued, and Tim knows he won't win this argument,  he was going on nearly 53 hours with the minimum of an hour nap in random spots. 

“Fine, Fine I'm logging off and heading up. Keep me posted on Riddler!” He huffs as he begins logging out of his account on the main computer. He sits there for a moment in the large seat contemplating moving before finally working up the energy to trudge his way upstairs. 

Tim makes it to his room or at least the one he stayed at when he was at the Manor, it hadn't changed much, just had a few less things in there than it used to. He grabs his antibiotics, promethazine, taking them with a large mouthful of water from the bottle he kept on the bedside table. he Kicks off most of his clothes deciding it was too hard to bother with anything more than his boxers, grabbing his compression gloves and fighting with them for a moment before he lays back in bed, tiredly staring up at the ceiling. It doesn't take long for the promethazine to make him drowsy on top of his fatigue and he is out shortly after. 

The next morning, Tim awoke feeling somewhat refreshed, his mind clearer than it had been the day before, less exhaustion and tension in his frame. The combination of the antibiotics and promethazine had granted him a night free of the usual nightmares and dreams that often plagued his mind.

He rolled out of bed slowly, his muscles protesting slightly from the lingering aches and pains. A hot shower helped to work out the kinks and tension in his body, the steaming water cascading over his scars and battle-worn flesh. He stood there for a long while just letting the heat seep into his skin, eyes closed as he enjoyed the momentary relief the hot water gave. 

As he stepped out of the shower, Tim caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes were still noticeable, but not as pronounced as they had been the day before. After drying off and getting dressed in his usual white button up and black slacks, He applied a thin layer of concealer under his eyes, carefully blending it into his skin to hide the evidence of his exhaustion.

Next, he smoothed on a foundation, the creamy substance helping to even out his complexion and conceal the faint, silvery scars that lined his cheeks - mementos from Joker. The scars were barely noticeable to most, but to Tim, they stood out more than anything, they had healed well only leaving very thin silvery lines, but they were still a reminder of what happened when he was 13.

Dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and tailored slacks, Tim looked every inch the successful businessman. Only those who knew him well could sense the weariness that still lingered beneath the polished exterior.

Tim entered the dining room, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floors. The smell of freshly brewed tea and toast wafted through the air. Bruce sat at the head of the table, newspaper in one hand, the other loosely holding a cup of tea. His breakfast plate half-empty was pushed slightly to the side. Behind the swinging door to the kitchen, the faint hum of a classical tune played as Alfred moved around, orchestrating the morning like a conductor with his symphony.

Tim offered Bruce a nod as he passed the table. He looked tired despite the dark circles under his eyes being concealed. There's a faint sluggishness in his movements. Without a word, he headed straight for the kitchen, clearly aiming for the coffee pot. As soon as Tim stepped into the kitchen, Alfred's sharp yet warm voice cut through the music.

"Master Timothy, don't even think about it. Coffee is hardly what you need right now. Have you slept at all?" He inquiries not even turning around to look at the younger man

Tim paused mid-reach for the coffee pot, his hand hovering above the handle. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Good morning to you too, Alfred."

 Alfred turned, crossing his arms with the kind of disapproving look only he could master, the disappointed grandfather stare. The soft music continued in the background as he gestured toward the kettle. "Tea, Master Tim. Far more civilized and significantly better for someone who looks like they've just returned from the grave."  

Tim hesitated but relented. "Fine. Tea it is." Alfred huffed but began preparing the tea while muttering under his breath about "young men and their lack of proper self-care."

Tim returned to the dining room, plopping into the chair across from Bruce. The latter set down the newspaper, his piercing gaze settling on Tim. "You haven't been sleeping."  

Tim blinked, he was well aware he hadn't been sleeping, he had been doing reserch into the Head of medical manufacturing as this was now the third time this month, that Luicus had brought him to attention over it, and Tim had done his own digging, and noe Marketing and been trying their best to sway Tim into letting them raise the price of certain medical items. And that was excluding everything that had been happening while he moonlights as Red Robin.   

His tone is defensive. "I'm fine. Just had a lot to do." Bruce raised an eyebrow, the kind of look that said he wasn't buying it. He leaned back, resting his hands on the arms of his chair.  "You can't run on fumes, Not in the long run. You know that."  

Tim looked away, running a hand through his hair. Trying not to mess it up after styling it into the business look he normally did for board meeting and anything that involved him having to be at any WE sites. "I will catch up on sleep once everything with patrols, WE settle down. Riddler has been causing issues in Blüdhaven and Luicus and myself are suspicious of the head of drug manufacturing, so I've been doing digging"  

Bruce doesn't say anything but just continues to watch Tim. Before he gets the chance to say anything Alfred appears, setting a cup of tea in front of Tim with a faintly pointed expression.  

"So, about the meeting today. WE Operations and Marketing. What’s the agenda?"  Tim straightened a little, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he switched into work mode.  "The marketing team wants to pitch a new campaign to raise prices of medication such as Insulin, amoxycillin, Levothyroxine.” there is a slight sneer to Tim's voice over it. He hated dealing with the pharmaceutical marketing Team, not to mention the head of the manufacturing. They have been trying to sway him for months now over increasing prices for life saving medication. And WE had always prided itself on being affordable for everyone. 

 “ I think we need to replace management and look at other options for that Team, or replacements, they have been the main ones causing so much strife within the company. The Steel operations will be presenting their quarterly report, but from what Lucius told me, there aren't any major surprises. I actually enjoy talking with Mr Brill, his Teams deserve a raise, He ask about you often, wants to know if your coming in for another one of their Forklift workshops " There's a small smirk on Tim's face, he knew all about those workshops Bruce used to attend before he had taken over as CEO. 

Bruce frowned slightly, swirling the tea in his cup, as he takes a sip. "You know I don't involve myself much in the day-to-day anymore."  But there's a small smile on Bruce's face remembering the shock of so many people when he used to show up to those workshops. 

The conversation had shifted to lighter topics, Bruce still nursing his tea while Tim sat back in his chair finishing up his own tea, trying to muster some energy for the day ahead, as he still eyes the kitchen wondering if he could get away with coffee before he left for his meeting, even if he couldn't he would either get one while at WE from the breakroom or afterwards sneak away long enough to get one from the local cafe he frequent.

 Alfred moved about the dining room with his usual quiet grace, clearing away Bruce’s breakfast plate and straightening the table. As Alfred returned from the kitchen, he paused by Tim’s chair, his hands resting lightly on the back of it. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of purpose behind his words. "Master Timothy, if I might trouble you for a moment..."  

Tim glanced up, raising a brow. "Uh-oh. What did I do now?"  

Alfred gave him a long-suffering look before continuing. "Nothing, yet. But I was wondering if you might accompany me later today after your meetings. There’s a small, family-owned nursery I frequent for the plants that brighten up this dreary old Manor. They’ve just started their spring stock, and I’d like to see what they have this year."  

Tim blinked, surprised, it wasn't what he had expected to hear from the old butler. "You’re asking me to go plant shopping with you?" Alfred gave a faint huff, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Indeed, I am. Surely you can spare a moment from your busy schedule to assist an old man with something as simple as choosing a few ferns and perhaps a philodendron or two?"  

Tim leaned back, fingers linked together as he processed everything, "Couldn’t you just call them? Have them send over a list or something? Sounds like less hassle."  Alfred’s expression turned pointed, though his tone remained polite, he was making it very clear it Wasn't up for debate. 

"Of course I could, Master Timothy. But where is the joy in that? I’d much rather go in person. There’s a charm to it, you see. And, if I may be so bold, I think an outing might do you some good. Perhaps some fresh air and a bit of greenery might help shake off the exhaustion you so stubbornly insist on ignoring."  

Bruce chuckled softly from his seat, glancing between the two. Tim shot Bruce a mock glare before turning back to Alfred, this felt like a trap, a trap to keep him busy and his focus away from work and cases. His lips press into a thin line as he stares down Alfred, the older man fixes him with his own look. 

"Fine, fine. I’ll go. On one condition, we stop at my favourite Cafe and I get my ristretto, or Iced Lungo " He finally relented knowing he wasn't getting out of this, but he sure wasn't going to not put up some resistance over it. 

Alfred gave a small, satisfied smile, as though he’d just won a minor battle. "That can be arranged, Master Tim. Your company will suffice. Though, if I may offer a suggestion, do try not to have too much Caffeine."  

Tim rolled his eyes, though there was a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "Yeah, yeah. That's my offer, coffee for company."  Bruce set down his tea, his tone light but teasing. "Don’t let him talk you into carrying all the pots. He’s been known to overdo it."  

Alfred turned to Bruce with a feigned look of innocence. "I assure you, Master Bruce, I wouldn’t dream of it."  Bruce gave him a knowing look, but Tim waved it off, standing up and stretching. glancing at the clock on the wall, his faint grin fading as the reality of his packed schedule loomed over him again. He drained the rest of his tea, setting the cup down with a soft clink against the saucer.  

“Alright,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing with a stretch. “I’ve got to head out. If I get to my office early enough, I might actually have a chance to breathe before the swarm descends.”  he said, pushing the chair back into the table. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow over the rim of his teacup, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned. “You mean you’re running off to hide before they corner you,” Bruce said knowingly.  Tim hummed, grabbing his blazer off the back of the chair. “Something like that. I like to call it ‘strategic retreat.’”  

Alfred gave him a pointed look as he passed by. “Strategic retreat or not, Master Timothy, I do hope you’ll consider pacing yourself today. Another cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss, either.” Tim paused in the doorway, glancing back with a wry grin. “Tea’s nice, Alfred, but I’m going to need something a little stronger if I’m going to survive the marketing team today.”  

Alfred’s brow furrowed as he turned to face him fully, his disapproval evident. “Master Tim, I do hope you’re not referring to–”  “Triple shot espresso,” Tim cut in, his grin widening. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it myself. Wouldn’t want to drag anyone else into my caffeine dependency.”  

Bruce let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. He knew Tim drank an awful amount of coffee but some days it really put others to shame “You’re going to crash hard later if you keep running like this.” Tim shrugged as he slipped his arms into the blazer and adjusted the cuffs.“Yeah, probably. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, I’ve got to deal with pharmaceutical marketing trying to convince me that price-gouging insulin is somehow good for the company.” His voice turned sharp at the end, a flicker of irritation breaking through his usual sarcasm.  

Alfred followed him toward the hallway, speaking as he moved. “If they press you too much, Master Timothy, do remember that you have the authority to shut them down completely.” Tim glanced back over his shoulder, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Oh, don’t worry, Alfred. I’ve been shutting them down for months. They’re just persistent. Like termites with suits.”  

Alfred gave him a small, approving nod. “As long as you don’t let them wear you down. And do keep in mind our little outing to the nursery later. Perhaps a few moments among greenery will help restore your... equilibrium.”  

Tim snorted softly. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned and headed down the hallway, his footsteps quick and purposeful on the polished floors. As he passed by the large windows overlooking the grounds, he caught a glimpse of the sunlight streaming through the trees, but he didn’t stop to take it in. His mind was already racing ahead—mentally preparing for the battle waiting for him at Wayne Enterprises.  

By the time he reached the garage, Tim was already planning his first move of the day: getting to his office before anyone else had the chance to ambush him. He climbed into his car, the engine purring to life as he pulled out of the long driveway, the manor shrinking behind him in the rearview mirror.  

The drive gave him a moment of quiet, though his fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel as he navigated the early morning traffic. He barely noticed the scenery passing by—his thoughts were too focused on the meetings ahead. The pharmaceutical marketing team, in particular, was already grating on his nerves, and he hadn’t even seen them yet.  

By the time he reached the Wayne Enterprises building, the city was fully awake. Tim parked in his reserved spot, grabbed his bag, and made his way inside, weaving through the bustling crowd of employees already heading to their stations. The elevator ride to his floor was mercifully empty, giving him a rare moment to himself. When the doors slid open, he stepped out into the sleek, modern office space that housed his team.  

Tim moved quickly, nodding at a few early risers but keeping his pace brisk. He wasn’t ready to be stopped yet. His office door clicked shut behind him, and he let out a small sigh of relief. For now, at least, he was safe. Dropping his bag onto the chair, he crossed the room to the small coffee bar tucked into the corner. The espresso machine gleamed under the overhead lights, and Tim wasted no time getting to work.  

“Triple shot,” he muttered to himself as he loaded the machine. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, and for a brief moment, it was almost enough to make him forget the chaos waiting just outside his door.  

Almost.  

Cup in hand, Tim moved to his desk and took a long sip, the bitter jolt of caffeine already doing its job. He set the cup down and powered on his computer, his inbox lighting up with a flood of unread emails. “Alright,” he muttered, cracking his knuckles, the ache slowly dissipating Into pins and needles. “Let’s see what today’s disaster looks like.”  

The quiet hum of his office was soon accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of his keyboard as Tim dove into his work, bracing himself for the inevitable knock on his door that would signal the start of the day’s battles. For now, though, he savored the calm before the storm, his triple shot espresso keeping him upright as he prepared to face whatever came next.

__________

[lucy---lou]

Heyi, so update time. So I met up with Miss Duralis at her hab. Imagine my shock as I nervously walk into the hab and get tackle hugged by a floret I don't know about. They were saying something to me but I was just out of it at that moment.

After a while a manage to stutter:" H-He-Hey, I-I didn't knowyouhadafloret."

"I thought you wouldn't come if you knew I had a floret. Btw I tould her not to tackle you but she didn't listen. - Petal introduce yourself."

"Hiiiiiiiii I'm Elena Duralis first floret she/her. You can also call me Ellie. I'm really sorry that I tackled you, but not really you were so cute afterwards. "

"Sure Heyi Elena. Anyways what's for dinner", trying to steer the conversation somewhere into safety.

"We're making pasta from scratch. It will be fun trust me. If you two would follow me into the kitchen please"

"Ok", I answer noticing a certain Ellie basically bouncing alongside me.

As we arrive Ellie blurts out:" Soo we're gone take some flourandeggsandsaltandthen we slowlymicfudjabdbffh"

I just stare at her

"I'm sorry she gets really excited when she's with someone she finds hot. Anyways I don't think Lucy understood anything, Ellie could you please repeat I again but slooowly"

I continue to just stare and now also blushing HARD.

"Ellie to Lucy anybody there? Luuucy answer me did you get it?"

"Hmm? I-I'm sorry", I stammer.

"Oh don't worry. I'll just show you step by step and try not to fry your brain. Come here and slowly mix in the eggs with the flour "

I nod doing what she said.

***********

The rest of the meal prep went fine. Now it's time to eat. I turn to the really tall table and bench and:"aaheeeeeep" Well that solves the issue i think to me self, apparently blushing again.

"Sorry should've thought better than to just pick a kitten up", Duralis said with a grin.

Ellie is deposited next to me, smiling widely. "You didn't tell me I could call you kittennnn that's soso-SO cute"

"I-I ehm em do-", trying to defend my self before being interrupted.

"Well she makes those cute noises and wiggles like one, so I called her one and I think she likes it"

My cheeks are red and I stare a hole into the table. I whisper:"fo-food?"

"Aww kitten is hungry lets eat", Miss Duralis graciously saves me. Thats what I think.

I should have know, but was still surprised as she started feeding Ellie.

"If you keep staring with your mouth open like that. You're going to be feed aswell"

"NO, sorry no need I'll manage myself", answering a alot more aggressive than I wanted to.

"Alright, but you just have to ask"

I nod.

The rest of the meal went by peacefully, without them teasing me.

"Anything else you have planned this evening, would you like me to leave?", I ask as I feel my social battery is basically empty. An attempt to leave, but I know they would never want me to leave. As soon as I finished my sentence Ellie nearly shouts:

"No we haven't cuddled yet, let's watch a movie"

Aaaand this story telling has already gotten way longer than planned. See you in the next blog.

-Lucy

[toxicanonymity]

get to know people

ty for the tags @milla-frenchy, @sunshineispunk, @iamasaddie, @tateypots 💛. I'm tagging you 🫵 and no pressure tagging 10 of you: @dark-scape @quaritchscupquake @whateverloomis @megangovier @xdaddysprincessxx @covetyou @romanarose @aurorawritestoescape @bitchesuntitled @noxturnalnymph sorry if you already did it.

I feel kinda vulnerable (and yet boring at the same time) talking about myself, but one of my goals is to let people know me as more of a person. 🩷

what's the origin of your blog title?: I have a taste for toxic characters, and i was hastily picking a url that would give me more anonymity. this old buzzword floated into my head from 15 yrs ago--I get a kick out of buzzwords that fizzle out so fast they become associated with a very specific point in time. I got the URL on an impulse and figured I could change it once I thought of the perfect url.... Meanwhile I've had plenty of asks and stalkers who themselves embody the old buzzword's meaning: the way a veil of anonymity emboldens hate and toxicity. I just wanted my veil to write porn, man.

favorite fandoms: impossible to say. too many factors.

OTP(s) + shipname: Michael Myers & Corey Cunningham (cunningmyers). it's a deep and fucked up bond, very dark and sexually charged. (Cue father figure ��) In my HCs I don't imagine anything soft, affectionate, or monogamous. it's pining and worship from Corey, dominance and dark energy from Michael and his monster cock. And when they kill together, god I love that.

favorite color: depends. My electronics & cases are blue, and I like to wear soft blues. also brown and olive green to wear. Black & salmon/peach: god tier combo.

favorite game: scrabble, trivia, jigsaw puzzles, nyt spelling bee, W.E.L.D.E.R., crosswords, guessing games. I've been trying to learn how to play poker which is great entertainment for @dark-scape.

song stuck in your head: none but I make up songs for my cat and I was singing one earlier about how sweet and nice she is. update: take me to church by hozier

weirdest habit/trait?: idk, really.

hobbies: lounging, research and learning, going to movies, watching miniseries, walking, writing but mostly in my head, taking elaborate baths, reading. getting organized this yr, minimalizing, donating things I don't need. would like to get back into candle-making and painting or clay sculpting.

if you work, what's your profession? Pass. I do work, though.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? It would be cool to make a living off writing. But, ideally get rich with minimal effort and then financially support an animal sanctuary so I could go chill with the animals whenever I want. also, publicize & investigate missing persons cases that don't get enough attention.

something you're good at: finding four leaf clovers. Cobbling together cosplay from thrift store finds. having ideas. character development & world building.

something you're bad at: socializing, but I want to do better. I'm shy to begin with and some of my experiences here haven't helped. But I promise I don't bite. I'm also bad at staying focused, keeping an uncluttered mind, second-guessing my story plans and not ending them.

something you love: having a pet. I feel so lucky to have a (not so) little furball who enjoys my company and has a personality and lets me take care of her.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: not usually super talkative. hmm. predictions about the year ahead - love to hear peoples' thoughts on this (sports, pop culture, archaeology, food & makeup trends, etc.). unsolved mysteries.

something you hate: I don't wanna get anyone worked up with a rant so I'm just gonna say canned spinach. Haven't had it since childhood but I can still taste it

something you collect: I'm not sure I collect anything. I keep a lot of greeting cards received with photos.

something you forget: what I came in the room for, why I opened the app, just about anything.

what's your love language?: little gestures (gifts/acts of service), praise

favorite movie/show: here's my letterboxd

favorite food: fresh pasta w/ olive oil and fresh parmesan

favorite animal: too many to list

what were you like as a child? pensive, curious, loved the circus and Halloween. my mom likes to tell the story of when I was 18 months old and an old friend of hers came to meet me and I explained what a parallelagram was and it freaked her out.

favorite subject(s) at school? English and Spanish

least favorite subject? anything that was straight memorization. But I wish I tried harder.

what's your best character trait? I care about people

what's your worst character trait? easily distracted and forgetful, can be slow to respond, recovering perfectionist

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? That I had to do any work at all

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? a big, hot guy who captures me but won't kill me if I escape to come back to this timeline.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

hounds of hell by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy 🐨🙏

some more favorites

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[theshiftinglilly]

RICH/🌽⭐ DR

MDNI 20+

not spell or grammar checked

I made this DR just for fun. I feel like it's not super common. I mostly spoil myself and have my rich popular girl moment.

Being a 🌽⭐ has dangers. But in this DR I scripted that stuff out. For example: STDs, and Stalkers.

I script that there is a pill I take once a month that doesn't let me get pregnant while I'm taking it. Or straight up put that you can't.

For this DR I also scripted my family never finds out or even gets the assumption! I put something like "name and 🌽name aren't thought to be the same person" that includes being able to go out and not be known.

I usually do solo videos and streams. But when I need a partner I have my handful of 🌽⭐ friends that I make the videos with. I meet up with people, I get selective here. When I meet people it's not always for sex (kinda like a sugar baby) Sometimes it's that they want company or need a date for something. It's not a lot of people I would meet with only a handful and the richest. (My memory isn't the best so I scripted I always knew who is who and what they like/want) Also make sure they are you're type.

I scripted that I have the ones I trust, they are safe and understanding. If you are like me and usually feel insecure or scared that helps. Also that they are your friends. That you are their favorite this helps boost yourself, they will ask for you. Be willing to give you whatever you want for what they want.

This can be you producing everything yourself or a company. I decided on a company because they set up, video, clean, and edit. But remember this is your DR! Make them pay you whatever you want, the sets and plots are to your liking, and the room only has the people you want (let me show my overthinking. don't want it packed with people watching what's happening? The lighting and sound work on their own and are amazing. Camera? They are set up in the room and catch every amazing angle. It's just you and your scene partners)

If you are doing things in public... Script that you can't get caught!

Remember to script that these people have the same likes as you! You don't wanna be suddenly caught off guard by a kink you want no business with.

Again I made this for fun! So script fun things sexual like a fantasy you have always had or a scenario from a book. Or nonsexual like a concert you have always wanted to go to. You can get anything and go anywhere you want.

I didn't mean to post this so soon. It was on accident...so if I add things to this I will put a little update up top.

[arivsxq]

Meddle about chapter 3

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Theme: strangers to lovers, angsty shit

Warnings: smut, hookup, fwb, mdni, maybe slow updates

Word count: 4,6k+

Songs: Meddle about-Chase Atlantic

Heartbeat-Childish Gambino

A/N: Wrote a longer chapter this time as a little apology for the few people who waited so long. Sorry again but I try to upload more regularly this year:)

The next morning, I was running late. Again. I'd hit snooze one too many times, and now I was shoving books into my bag with a granola bar hanging from my mouth, cursing my existence. I barely had time to throw on a hoodie and sneakers before rushing out the door. It was the second day in a row where I looked like a homeless person. If my parents saw me like this they would definitely scream their guts out.

By the time I got to campus, I was already exhausted. The philosophy lecture hall was halfway across campus, and I knew if I stopped for coffee, I'd be even later. So, against my better judgment, I powered through, speed-walking like my life depended on it.

And that's when it happened.

One second, I was focused on not tripping over my own feet. The next, I slammed right into someone, sending both of us stumbling back.

"Oh, shit—"

I barely had time to process before strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me before I could fall flat on my ass.

And of course. Of course.

It was Jungkook.

Because why wouldn't it be?

He looked down at me, eyebrows raised in amusement. "You good?"

I blinked up at him, momentarily thrown off by how close we were. His hoodie was slightly oversized, sleeves covering part of his hands, and his dark hair was tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed. The morning light caught on the two piercings on the corner of his lips, and—

Nope. Absolutely not.

I stepped back quickly, clearing my throat. "Yeah. Fine. Totally great."

He gave me a look, like he didn't quite believe me, but he didn't push it. Instead, he smirked. "Running late?"

I huffed, adjusting my bag. "What gave it away?"

"The fact that you almost knocked me and yourself unconscious."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. You barely moved."

"Strong reflexes." He grinned. "Perks of being me."

I hated that I almost laughed.

Instead, I shook my head, moving past him. "I gotta go."

"Wait."

I paused, reluctantly turning back. "What?"

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning my face like he was debating something. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable yesterday," he said finally.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?" I said again.

"The coffee thing." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I wasn't trying to push anything. Just... wanted to talk."

Guilt twisted in my stomach. I let out a slow breath, suddenly feeling very aware of how awkward I'd made everything.

"I know," I admitted. "I just had..." I hesitated. "two cups of coffee"

Jungkook studied me for a second before nodding. "Okay."

That was it. Just okay. No guilt-tripping, no passive-aggressive remarks. Just acceptance. It threw me off more than anything else. Before I could say something else—what, I didn't even know—Jungkook took a step back. "I'll see you in class," he said, and then he walked away, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

"wait-"

He turns around with a questioning look on his face.

"What about later? I-I mean... after the lectures. Only if you have time, we don't need to-"

"yeah, sure" he smiles and disappears after.

Did I just stutter???

***

By the time I slipped into my seat next to Carla, the professor had already started scribbling something on the board. I tried to act casual like I hadn't just made an absolute fool of myself five minutes ago, but Carla's sharp gaze immediately landed on me.

"You're late," she whispered, leaning in.

"Tell me something I don't know," I muttered, pulling out my iPad.

Carla ignored my bad mood, her eyes narrowing. "Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?"

I hesitated for half a second too long, and that was all she needed.

"Oh my god," she gasped, her voice a little too loud. "Is this about Jungkook?"

My entire body stiffened. "No," I lied instantly.

Carla's smirk grew. "So if I turn around right now, he's not gonna be looking at you?"

I refused to take the bait. "I don't care what he's doing."

Carla, being the absolute menace she was, twisted in her seat anyway. I heard her inhale sharply. "Oh. My. God."

I sighed. "Carla—"

"He's staring at you."

I groaned, dropping my forehead onto the desk. "I hate you."

Carla giggled. "Oh, babe, you love me."

I peeked up at her, only to find her grinning like she'd just won the lottery. I knew that look. It meant trouble.

"What did you do?" I whispered harshly.

"Nothing," she said, way too innocently. "I just think it's interesting that you rejected coffee yesterday but suddenly have plans after class today."

I glared at her. "How do you even know that?"

Carla rolled her eyes. "Please. I saw your face when you walked in. You look like someone who just did something completely out of character."

She wasn't wrong.

"Annnnddd I overheard Jungkook telling Namjoon"

I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that Carla would never let this go. "Fine. I might have... invited him to hang out."

Carla's jaw dropped. "You invited him? As in, willingly?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" I hissed, glancing around.

Carla's expression turned gleeful. "This is huge."

"It's really not."

"It is." She paused, then gasped. "Oh my god, do you like him?"

I choked. "Absolutely not."

Carla narrowed her eyes. "Liar."

"I literally just met him."

Carla smirked. "And yet, here we are."

I wanted to argue, but the professor shot us a pointed look, forcing Carla to finally shut up. I exhaled in relief and focused on the lecture, but my brain refused to cooperate. I was too aware of the fact that Jungkook was sitting just a few rows away.

And worse? I could feel him looking at me.

***

After class, I practically sprinted out of the lecture hall before Carla could interrogate me further. I had a break before my next class, and Jungkook was nowhere in sight. Maybe he'd forgotten about my invitation. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe—

"Hey."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Spinning around, I found Jungkook standing there, looking amused.

"Jesus," I muttered, clutching my chest. "You need to stop sneaking up on me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I literally just walked up."

I huffed. "Whatever."

Jungkook chuckled, then nodded toward the campus café. "Still down?"

I hesitated. "For what?"

His lips twitched. "To hang out? You did invite me, remember?"

I internally cringed. "Right. Yeah. Sure."

Jungkook gave me an amused glance but didn't push it. We made our way to the café in comfortable silence, and I tried not to overthink the fact that I was willingly spending time with him.

Inside, we grabbed drinks, him, an iced Americano; me, a caramel latte, and found a spot near the window. I wrapped my hands around my cup, suddenly unsure what to say.

Jungkook beat me to it. "So, what's your deal?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

He smirked. "You seem... hard to read."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "You act like you don't care, but I don't think that's true."

I stared at him. "That's a bold assumption."

Jungkook sipped his coffee, unfazed. "Am I wrong?"

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Annoyingly, he wasn't. I did care. I just hated admitting it.

Instead, I deflected. "And what about you? What's your deal?"

Jungkook tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

I gestured vaguely. "You just randomly show up at my friends' dinner, stare at me in class, and now you're analyzing my personality like it's a project."

He smirked. "So you did notice me staring."

I groaned "I walked into that one."

Jungkook laughed, a soft, genuine sound that caught me off guard. When I looked up, he was watching me, his expression more serious than before.

"For real, though," he said, voice quieter. "I think you're interesting."

I swallowed. "You don't even know me."

"Not yet," he said simply.

I didn't have a response to that.

Jungkook didn't press me for one. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee like he had all the time in the world. I stared out the window, watching students hurry past, my thoughts a tangled mess.

"I think we would make great friends" he interrupts the silence.

I blinked at him, unsure if I had misheard. "Friends?"

Jungkook nodded, completely unfazed. "Yeah. You know, the normal kind. People who hang out, talk, maybe send each other stupid memes at 2 AM. Friends."

I squinted at him. "Do you usually pursue friendships with people who actively avoid you?"

He chuckled. "You haven't exactly been avoiding me."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he had a point. I could have ignored him and shut down every attempt he made to talk to me, but instead, here I was, sitting across from him, sharing coffee.

I sighed, stirring my drink absentmindedly. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

"I prefer determined," he said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. Friends."

Jungkook raised his cup like he was toasting. "Friends."

We fell into an easy conversation after that. Turns out, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. He told me about his photography projects, his love for late-night drives, and his weirdly specific obsession with collecting vintage film cameras. In return, I told him about my art major, my stress over exams, and my terrible habit of procrastinating until the last possible second.

"So basically," Jungkook said, resting his chin on his palm, "we're both disasters in different ways."

I snorted. "Yeah, pretty much."

The time passed quicker than I expected. Before I knew it, my break was almost over, and I had to get to my next class. I glanced at the time and groaned. "I gotta go."

Jungkook stretched, standing up. "I'll walk with you."

I hesitated for a second but didn't protest. We stepped out of the café, the campus buzzing with students rushing to their next classes. The air was crisp, the sun casting long shadows across the pavement.

As we walked, Jungkook glanced at me. "So, do I get a contact name in your phone now? Or am I still 'Unknown Number'?"

I huffed a laugh, pulling out my phone. "Fine. But if you send me dumb memes at 2 AM, I'm blocking you."

Jungkook grinned, typing his number into my phone. "Noted."

I saved his contact, glancing at him. "Happy now?"

He grinned wider. "Very."

As we reached the building where my class was, I turned to him. "Guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah," he said, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. "Later."

I walked into the lecture hall, feeling oddly lighter than I had in days. Maybe having Jungkook around wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

***

Who would've thought that four months later, Jungkook would be one of my closest friends? But here we were, sitting in his living room. My legs were stretched out over his, tangled in the most casual way, like we'd been doing this forever. His feet rested on the other end of the L-shaped couch, his laptop perched on his thighs as he absentmindedly scrolled through something.

The room was dimly lit, the only real light coming from the TV, playing some random movie neither of us were paying attention to. A forgotten bag of chips sat between us, and my half-empty iced coffee was precariously balanced on the armrest.

Jungkook suddenly let out a dramatic sigh, closing his laptop with a soft thud. "I'm so over this assignment."

Not even looking up from my phone I respond "You say that about every assignment."

"Because they all suck," he shot back, tossing his laptop onto the floor beside him. "Seriously, who thought writing an essay about 'the emotional depth of visual storytelling' was a good idea?"

"Uh, your professor?"

He gave me a flat look. "I refuse to acknowledge that man's existence."

I laughed, nudging his leg with my foot. "You just need a break. Wanna order food?"

Jungkook perked up instantly. "Now you're speaking my language."

"Pizza?"

"Obviously."

I reached for my phone to make a call but then I see a message from my father.

Father:"Were invited to dinner by the Kim's."

I roll my eyes. My thoughts get interrupted by Jungkook's voice calling me.

"What's with the eye-role?" he tries to tease.

"Just my father. We're invited for dinner by the Kim's" if my annoyed face doesn't tell what I think about the plans my voice definitely does.

"Which Kim's exactly?" Jungkook hesitates.

"Your smart ass friend Namjoon?"

"Oh these Kim's"

Jungkook smirked, leaning back into the couch. "So, what's the problem? Namjoon's cool."

I groaned, throwing my phone onto the coffee table. "Yeah, but his parents are the problem. And also mine but that's not the point. They're like... I don't know, fancy? Pretentious? The kind of people who judge you based on how well you hold a wine glass."

Jungkook chuckled. "So like your family"

"True but shut up"

He shrugged. "I mean, I could come as your emotional support."

I snorted. "Oh, sure. I'd love to see my father's face when I show up with you. That'd go over well."

"Hey, I can be classy." He sat up straighter, clearing his throat before saying in an exaggerated deep voice, "Good evening, Mr. Kim. A pleasure to see you again. The duck confit is simply exquisite."

I burst out laughing. "Oh my God, stop."

Jungkook grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "I'd fit right in."

"Yeah, until you start talking about video games or making fun of Namjoon's philosophy books."

"Fine, fine. But really, is it that bad?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "It's just... my dad has this weird thing about the Kim's. Mr. Kim and dad have a long history of business dealings and stuff. Like, they're this perfect family in his eyes, and I always feel like I have to act a certain way around them. You know, be 'proper' and 'respectable' or whatever. It's exhausting."

Jungkook nodded, his playful expression softening a little. "I get that. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, Namjoon's probably suffering through it too."

"He is" I sighed. "I know him since I was 6. This guy doesn't have a great poker face"

"You got this," Jungkook said, bumping his knee against mine. "And if it gets unbearable, just imagine them all in clown wigs. Helps me get through awkward situations."

"That explains a lot"

"Hey"

The rest of the evening passed in comfortable laziness. We ordered pizza, half-watched a movie, and talked about everything and nothing until it was late and I had to drag myself off the couch.

***

The moment I stepped into my walk-in closet at my parent's house, I knew I couldn't just throw on any outfit. My parents took these dinners seriously, and showing up in anything less than polished perfection was practically a crime in their eyes. So, instead of my usual laid-back style, I went for a sleek black dress, nothing too extravagant, but just enough to say, yes, I belong in this ridiculous world of power plays and social niceties. A pair of delicate diamond earrings and designer heels completed the look.

By the time I made it downstairs, my mother gave me an approving glance, my father barely looked up from his watch, and we were ushered into the car.

When we arrived at the Kim estate, a sprawling mansion that made even our home seem modest, I sighed inwardly. The moment we stepped through the grand entrance, Namjoon and his parents greeted us with the usual warmth laced with underlying expectations. My mother was already deep in conversation with Mrs. Kim about some charity gala, while my father and Mr. Kim exchanged firm handshakes and business talk.

And then, just as I was about to zone out, my phone buzzed in my clutch.

Jungkook: "How's the royal banquet?"

I bit back a smile and texted back.

Me: "Currently contemplating my existence between a five-course meal and a conversation about hedge funds."

Jungkook: "Sounds thrilling. You need a rescue?"

Me: "Always"

Jungkook: "I'll send a helicopter"

I rolled my eyes but felt strangely lighter. If nothing else, at least I had Jungkook's sarcasm to get me through the night. The dining room was an opulent display of wealth, all crystal chandeliers, gold-trimmed dinnerware, and a floral centerpiece so large it practically needed its own zip code. I took my designated seat between my mother and Namjoon, the latter offering a polite smile as I settled in. Across from me, his younger sister, Jihye, was already scrolling through her phone beneath the table, clearly just as thrilled to be here as I was.

"So," Mr. Kim started, his deep voice carrying over the soft clinking of silverware, "I hear the expansion in Singapore is progressing well."

My father nodded, always the composed businessman. "Yes, though we had to make some last-minute adjustments to accommodate new regulations. Nothing we can't handle."

I tuned out almost instantly. Business talk at these dinners was as predictable as the perfectly plated gourmet meals in front of us. The first course, a delicate amuse-bouche that looked more like art than food, was placed before me, and I forced myself to take a bite, despite my complete lack of appetite.

I stole a glance at Namjoon, who seemed equally unenthusiastic. Despite his reputation for being a genius, he was, at the core, still just a guy who had been shoved into this world whether he liked it or not.

"How's university treating you?" he asked, voice low enough that it didn't interrupt the ongoing corporate negotiations happening to our left.

"Oh, you know," I sighed, "thriving under capitalism, questioning my existence, the usual."

Namjoon chuckled. "Sounds about right. Jungkook keeping you entertained?"

I nearly choked on my water. I cleared my throat, trying to play it cool. "Why would you assume that?"

Namjoon arched a knowing brow. "Because he's Jungkook. And you're... you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Care to elaborate?"

Before he could, Mrs. Kim turned her attention toward me, her carefully poised smile in place. "Darling, your mother was telling me about your latest art project. How wonderful that you still find time for such creative pursuits."

My lips twitched. "Yes, still clinging to the last remnants of my soul."

My mother shot me a warning look, but Mrs. Kim merely laughed, as if I had said something utterly charming rather than laced with sarcasm.

"Well, creativity is important," she said smoothly, sipping her wine. "Though, of course, I'm sure you're also considering more... practical applications for the future."

There it was. The inevitable nudge toward "real-world" aspirations, the ones that involved boardrooms, mergers, and an existence carefully molded into the expectations of high society.

I didn't get the chance to respond before my phone buzzed in my lap again.

"Uh yeah but I actually want to presume art"

My mother lets out a fake laugh and says "Young people and their imagination. Of course, she has other plans for the future. After all, she is the heir of a million dollar company"

Bitch.

She shoots me one last look before I look at my phone.

Jungkook: "Tell me you've at least been served something edible."

Me: "If by edible, you mean a piece of asparagus decorated like a museum exhibit, then yes."

Jungkook: "Tragic. Need me to smuggle in a burger?"

Me: "Tempting. You'd get past security?"

Jungkook: "For you? I'd find a way."

A warmth spread through my chest, but before I could type a response, my mother's voice cut through my thoughts. "Darling, put your phone away. It's rude during dinner."

I bit back a sigh, slipping my phone back into my clutch and returning to my untouched plate. Across from me, Jihye smirked knowingly, clearly having caught on.

The second course arrived,some kind of seafood dish with a name too long to remember, and the conversation steered toward future prospects. Mr. Kim, ever the strategist, turned to Namjoon with a measured look.

"Have you given more thought to your role in the company after graduation?"

Namjoon's smile was tight. "Of course. Still weighing my options."

"Options?" Mr. Kim repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Your path has always been clear."

I didn't miss the way Namjoon's grip tightened around his fork. I felt a sudden, sharp pang of sympathy. The weight of expectation in a family like this wasn't just heavy, it was suffocating.

"I think Namjoon should have the space to explore his interests," I interjected, drawing attention back to me. "After all, wouldn't you rather have a CEO who actually enjoys his work?"

There was a beat of silence before Mrs. Kim gave a tight-lipped smile. "Of course, dear. But responsibility is a privilege, not a choice."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Right. How could I forget?"

"Y/N!" My father warns me but I could care less.

As the courses continued, so did the thinly veiled expectations, the strategic questions, the careful way my mother kept nudging me to say the right things, to act the part.

By the time dessert arrived, I was more than ready to escape.

Another buzz.

Jungkook: "Still alive?"

Me: "Barely. Might fake an emergency. Thoughts?"

Jungkook: "Dramatic fainting. Classic. I'll give you a 9/10 if you commit to it."

I stifled a laugh, but Namjoon caught it, shaking his head in amusement. "Tell Jungkook he's a bad influence."

"Oh, he already knows."

As coffee was served, my mother turned to me with a pointed look. "We'll be attending the charity gala next weekend. You'll be expected to join...and your manners too."

I sighed internally but nodded. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it."

She smiled, satisfied, and returned to her conversation.

Jungkook: "What are your plans for next weekend?"

Me: "Apparently, I'm being paraded at a gala."

Jungkook: "Sounds fancy."

Me: "Sounds exhausting."

Jungkook: "I could always crash it."

I hesitated for a split second.

Me: "You wouldn't."

Jungkook: "Oh, baby. Don't challenge me."

I stared at the message, something dangerously close to excitement bubbling under my ribs.

Jungkook at a high-society gala? Now that would be a sight to see. As the evening dragged on, my patience wore thin. Just as I thought I might actually lose my mind listening to another story about market trends, Mr. Kim turned to me.

"Have you given any thought to internships? I know your father has some excellent connections. It would be a wonderful opportunity."

I hesitated. "I have some ideas, but nothing concrete yet."

My father, who had been mostly silent on my personal matters, decided now was the time to weigh in. "She needs to start focusing on more stable prospects. The art thing is fine as a hobby, but—"

There it was. The inevitable dismissal of my interests, as if they were just a passing phase. I clenched my jaw, forcing a polite nod instead of the biting retort I wanted to unleash.

Before I could say anything, Namjoon smoothly interjected, "Actually, Jungkook was telling me about an artist he's been following lately. Some really impressive work."

I shot him a look of gratitude. Namjoon, ever the diplomat, had just steered the conversation away from my impending existential crisis.

Mr. Kim hummed in approval. "Ah, Jungkook. Always an interesting one."

My mother's lips pursed ever so slightly. She wasn't the biggest fan of Jungkook, something about him being too carefree, too unpredictable. The irony, considering how much they admired Namjoon, who happened to be one of Jungkook's closest friends.

As the night wore on, I found myself feeling less suffocated, despite the setting. Maybe it was Namjoon's subtle interventions, or maybe it was knowing that, on the other side of my phone screen, Jungkook was keeping me grounded in my own way.

By the time we finally left the Kim estate, I let out a breath of relief. The car ride home was silent, my parents satisfied with another successful evening of networking but also angry at my behavior.

As soon as I was back in my room, I collapsed onto my bed and checked my phone again.

Jungkook: "You made it out?"

Me: "Against all odds."

Jungkook: "Proud of you. Wanna celebrate your survival with a coffe at my place"

I hesitated for a moment, then smiled.

Me: "Fine. But only if you make breakfast too"

Jungkook: "Why? We can buy something on the campus"

Me:"okay see you in class"

Jungkook:"Ugh fine, I'll make breakfast. Anything for the Chanel princess"

I set my phone down, feeling a little lighter. Maybe these dinners would never be easy, but at least I had people who made them bearable.

***

The next morning, I woke up to the soft ping of my phone, signaling a message from Jungkook.

Jungkook: "I'm up. Suffering. Hope you're happy."

I grinned, stretching lazily before replying.

Me: "Very. Now get to work, chef."

Jungkook: "Bossy. I like it."

Shaking my head, I rolled out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes before heading to his apartment. I had barely knocked when the door swung open, revealing Jungkook in an oversized hoodie, his hair still messily tousled from sleep.

"Morning, Chanel Princess," he greeted, stepping aside to let me in.

"Morning, Michelin-star chef," I smirked, peering over his shoulder. "Where's my gourmet breakfast?"

Jungkook scoffed, leading me into the kitchen where a pan of slightly burnt pancakes sat on the stove. "Listen, I never promised quality."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky I'm too hungry to care."

As I grabbed a plate, he leaned against the counter, watching me with an easy smile. "So, how bad was the aftermath?"

I sighed, stabbing at my pancake. "Silent treatment from my parents. My mother is convinced I'll grow out of my 'art phase' and my dad thinks I need a reality check."

Jungkook frowned. "And by reality check, they mean...?"

"Corporate servitude." I rolled my eyes. "Yay, nepotism."

He snorted. "Yeah, you don't really scream 'corporate drone' to me."

I pointed my fork at him. "Exactly! But try telling them that."

There was a beat of silence before Jungkook said, "You know, you don't actually have to do what they want."

I looked up, meeting his gaze. It was such a simple statement, yet it held so much weight.

"Yeah, well, try convincing them of that."

Jungkook shook his head. "No, I mean it. You're the one who has to live with your choices. Not them."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond. Because as much as I wanted to believe that, the pressure was real. The expectations, the responsibilities, the constant reminder that I had a role to play in this carefully curated world my parents had built.

Jungkook must've sensed my hesitation because he reached across the counter, lightly tapping my wrist. "Hey. You have options. You just have to be brave enough to take them."

I stared at him, something warm blooming in my chest. He always made things sound so simple, so possible.

Before I could overthink it, I sighed dramatically. "It's not that easy."

Jungkook grinned. "Oh come on. If your parents disown you, you can sleep on my couch"

I scoffed. "I think I've suffered enough for your amusement."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, you keep things interesting."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't fight the smile tugging at my lips. For now, the weight of last night felt a little lighter, and the future was a little less suffocating. At least I had people like Jungkook in my corner.

[the-raven-and-the-tower]

Shots from Neve's Room (early in the game)

When Rook came in, she was working on her journal and had apparently met with someone else, since three pages were facing the other side of the desk for perusal.

A closer review of the pages.

And a closer look at Neve's journal - there's a copy of the page she was working on on the wall, upside-down.

The wall itself - this is early game, I'll do another post of how the wall changes as the game progresses.

A SPARE LEG, which made me giggle. What a great touch! I want to know the story behind this one.

@madcatcapers pointed out some awesome details;

"...the spare leg is for the wrong leg :) But there's a PC mod to fix it. You might notice that it's barefoot, so I feel like it's probably for when Neve is, e.g., shuffling around barefoot in the morning to get coffee, so she doesn't have to put the boot on her left foot."

These are thieves's tools on her desk, I believe. Strangely shaped picks and a prying implement of some sort, anyway. What do you think they are?

Update: Thanks to @madcatcapers, we now know that in Frosty Editor, these objects have names suggesting they're actually for working on her prosthetic!

Also, this cool book on the floor??? I might need to make myself one of these.

Last one- does anyone recognize the seal on the paperwork on her desk?

[liketolaugh-writes]

Update:

"My turn," Steph announced. "Never have I ever hurt myself because my parents left me alone with dangerous objects."

Danny gave her a look. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Steph smirked at him and gestured to the rest of the room. To Danny's surprise, and hesitant amusement, everyone else looked as disgruntled as he felt, and one by one, Tim, Damian, and Jason all took a candy. Another clean sweep.

"Huh. Is it weird that I feel better?" It felt mean, maybe. Danny took his fourth candy and popped it in his mouth.

"Nah, that's the point." Jason scowled down at his now half-empty candy glass. "My mom was always leaving needles out and shit. It's a fucking miracle that I'm still HIV-negative. B had me tested for every bloodborne disease in the world when I mentioned it to him." It was one of the few positive things he'd said about Bruce unprompted.

"You know what happened to me," Danny shrugged. "Although one time they also left hydrochloric acid on the kitchen table, and I almost drank it because I thought it was water. But the smell startled me so I dropped it and just burned myself instead."

"That's... not much better," Tim noted, glancing down like he expected burn scars to suddenly manifest on Danny's arms.

"Nope," Danny agreed readily. "Looking back, it must've been diluted or I'd've been burned a lot worse, but they still had to take me to the hospital." He'd been pretty young, maybe six or seven, so he didn't remember much more than that. "Dad stopped drinking water out of beakers after that."

"I'm starting to think the hazard was your parents," Tim said, and Danny surprised himself by laughing.

"Yeah, kinda," he said, with unreasonable fondness.

"Well, I didn't do that," Tim said, dry and rueful, "but I did start leaving the house whenever I wanted to stalk vigilantes at night, and in hindsight? That's probably not much better." Danny shook his head fervently. "And you?"

"Stop smirking at me, Drake," Damian scowled. "I was encouraged to play with knives as a toddler. Obviously I hurt myself." Quieter, "Mother told me that is how you learn the edges are sharp."

"Not to question her parenting techniques, but I think I learned that knives are sharp because my mother told me before she let me touch them," Tim deadpanned, and Damian actually snorted.

So Danny, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Jason are playing Never Have I Ever (Child Abuse Edition)

(The first two aren’t specified because I already wrote that part, I just needed to keep track of who was winning)

[anarchypumpkincowboy]

love/hate reading something and going like “damn i hope it updates soon” but its my fic so i have to actually write the next chapters to update it

[puppppppppy]

beep beep im a sheep

speeddraw below the cut (audio warning)

song: "Cult of Dionysis" by The Orion Experience

[gamebunny-advance]

"Let's Dance"

(Loop the video for the intended experience.)

Even though I actually forgot that the 1st was Mayday's birthday, I got the sudden urge to draw something like this. It's a little belated, but let's call this birthday art anyway~

As frustrating as it is, I booted up AnimeEffects for this one to get a little bounce on 'em. It's a little scuffed, but I'm kinda tired of banging my head against a wall trying to make it better~

[9ofspades]

It’s disability pride month, and if you are disabled in the U.S. from Long Covid I want you to know that you’re not alone, and you’re valid in whatever you feel. Whether that’s sorrow at your new problems or rage at society for failing you, you are valid, and it is truly messed up that society is continuing to fail you.

[jichanxo]

commissioning @vos-videmus was a life changing experience. forcing you all to look at this immediately (please don't repost or crop out the watermarks. thanks 👍)

[marblerose-rue]

silly doodle for my fursona since i made her 11 years ago today :-)

[serenescribe]

glaciers melting in the dead of night Fantasy High | 194k (and counting!) | 7/? chapters done Summary: In another universe a step to the left, Adaine Abernant and Oisin Hakinvar are paired together for a project in the first week of freshman year. This doesn’t change everything — but it changes just enough. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55871113/chapters/141867796 (Contains spoilers for FHJY)

hi. do you like tragedy and inkblade? maybe both together? please read my horrible child (glaciers) that has rapidly spiralled out of hand (will break 100k with the next chapter). it's just your standard canon divergence! our two dear wizards (adaine and oisin) knowing each other two years before junior year. having being friends all that time... there's a lot of changes that come with that — good, bad, and very bad :)

anyways. i'm finally giving glaciers the crosspost it deserves here! for however much it is killing me writing it, i do love working on this so much. if anyone reads it ily ♡

[azaracyy]

to the next stage of our adventure! digimon survive week 2024 day 7: post-game / future personal thoughts under the cut - less about the artwork and more about shuuji and lopmon themselves. a long rambling containing major spoilers and heavy topics. will cause whiplash. proceed with caution.

other than the fact this may be boring and long-winded, cw and tw: there will be mentions of self-harm and suicide. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please step back. if you're sure, then alright. i'm aware this is a weird place to ramble about shuuji and lopmon considering the notorious highlight of their story would match the themes of day 5 (villains) and day 6 (dark & loss) better. unfortunately (ironically?) i never planned to feature them for those days, so... pretty sure i'm not the only one feeling this, but when i discovered that a good part of the fandom seems to loathe shuuji with utmost passion, even after they claimed to have completed the game, i was confused. the way his death happened and (understanding) the cause made me uncomfortable for a while, but never drove me to the point of hate... once i recovered from the initial shock, what i felt towards him was more pity, then respect (on truthful route). i feel shuuji should have been one of the most appreciated characters in survive. yet it was the opposite that happened. (between you and me though, knowing there was this discourse with the fact digimon survive is a visual novel, i'm not that surprised it turned out this way...) from my point of view, lopmon evolving into wendimon then killing shuuji symbolizes suicide, the act of taking one's own life. it was the climax of shuuji's mental breakdown, leading him to basically self-destruct, causing damage to everyone around him and ultimately himself. lopmon evolved, just like he hoped. but failed to do it like other kemonogami partners (maintaining control of themselves and fending off enemies). the next and final outcome was death, through his own partner actually eating him alive too. it reminds me how when someone thought they have prepared well for something important yet it failed spectacularly, the devastation and frustration would eat them in the same way from inside. and they probably would for one second think, "i'm better off dead". the more i pondered about it, the more it hit home, so of course, the last thing i could do is hate him, when his struggles sound similar to my own - having to rely on consistent achievements to prove your value, to feel you are worth living and not a waste of resources. the part where shuuji went all abusive on lopmon felt like the equivalent of pushing yourself to the extreme to reach your goal, to the point of neglecting your own needs. it's like a student so absorbed in their study, sacrificing food and sleep, until their body eventually snaps and shuts down for good (...this in fact happened to one of the students at my previous workplace. she was in her last year of high school. life was just about to truly start for her when her classmate informed us of her sudden death). even in truthful route where shuuji and lopmon survive that point, things aren't immediately nice and easy for him. you can see that he still has self-doubts, and what i think is impostor's syndrome. he could be making a great contribution to the team and still put himself down for having done "nothing". i have found it interesting that artists and writers tend to be especially fond of shuuji. so perhaps it's not just the matter of one's upbringing - whether you were raised in a harsh, competitive environment and/or with family with (unreasonably) high standards so you can relate more easily to him - but also whether one can see just what every struggle shuuji and lopmon went through symbolizes shuuji's mental state. out of all survive characters, i think shuuji and lopmon pulled off this thing called "surviving" the hardest, no joke. which is why i almost always gravitate to drawing them happy because that's what they deserve :') after all this, what i also would like to say is, it's okay if a character makes you uncomfortable. it's okay if you hate a character. but never, ever bring down the character to people who like them or even consider them their favorite or comfort character. if you must, do it in your own space and only with like-minded people.