#i just would think sometimes that would be for the best??? at least just for a little while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovieku · 5 hours ago

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TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

“Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 days ago

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BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 4

Summary: You get upset when you see other girls flirting with Jungkook but he always makes sure that you know you're the only one he wants Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: Smuttttt hehe Requested by an anon 💜

"So yeah I was thinking maybe we could hang out sometime? My friends and I are going out on Friday a-" "Can I come?" I ask, cutting off the woman at the coffee shop that's decided to chat up Jungkook.

I swear I leave his man alone for five minutes and he's already got a line of woman drooling over him.

"Um I'm sorry...who are you?" she asks, scoffing as if she owns him and I'm the one that's imposing. "She's my girlfriend" he says and pulls me in by my hips, kissing me in front of her to make a point leaving her turning her face in disgust.

"Way to lead a girl on" she huffs and walks off.

"Not his fault that you couldn't take a hint Honey" I call after her, telling myself I can't keep bringing him out with me when I'm in the wrong headspace.

I just wanted some company though...plus Ava was busy so I didn't have much of a choice.

"Hi Baby" Jungkook says, coaxing my focus back over to him. "Hi" I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest, clearly still upset making him smile.

"I don't know why you let them talk to you" I huff and sit down at the table he had gotten us with him sliding in across from me, lacing our fingers together and placing a kiss on my knuckles.

"Because I like seeing that look on your face. Plus I know you get satisfied when you see their reactions, knowing that you have something they want but couldn't get even if they tried" he reminds me but it's not good enough to get me out of this bad mood, not today.

"I would rather you just ignored them or told them you have a girlfriend" I huff for what feels like the twelfth time but it doesn't seem to bother him.

"You know I hardly ever get to interact with people besides you and Ava, just think of it as research" he explains leaving me cocking a brow and echoing the last word.

"Yeah you know, I get to be outside of the four walls of our home and learn how to evolve and treat you better and you get peace of mind because you know I'd never want anyone else but you" he continues leaving me sighing, knowing he really doesn't get the chance to get out much and observe the world.

His patterns and behaviors do switch up a bit every time I bring him out with me so I have to admit that it does make things seem less monotonous, makes him feel real.

I just don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing...

"Come on" he says and gets up, waiting for me to follow and I do so cautiously. "I'm not gonna hurt you or anything" he laughs. "I just know you're not gonna enjoy being here anymore after what happened so let's just go for a walk" he offers, holding out his hand for me and so I resign to his idea and take it, allowing him to lead the way.

Our walk is quiet, contemplative even and it leaves him debating on whether or not to ask me what's wrong when he can infer the answer already, or at least part of it.

"I'm sorry" he says and pulls me aside to a more secluded area, gaining us a little more privacy. "I know you're just acting on your programing but I'm just not in the best headspace right now" I admit, having let my emotions simmer under the surface for a while now, leaving him placing a kiss on my forehead, a further expression of his apologetic state.

"You wanna talk about it?" he ask, cupping my face but not making me look at him, knowing I'd rather have a second to debate on if I'm ready to yet. I decidedly shake my head, realizing I'm not and he hums, not pushing it further, knowing that although in an area hidden from most of the people surrounding us this is not a place for uncomfortable conversations.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, now bringing my face back over to his, stroking my cheek and giving me a sad smile, thinking it might make me feel better and so I nod, accepting his request.

He places his lips against mine, the first time he's done so since we left the house, knowing that public displays of affection tend to make me a little uncomfortable at times. This time the kiss feels different though, I can feel the intensity growing with every meeting, a familiar fluttering felt deep within me.

"Jungkook wait" I gasp, the need for air almost forgotten, trailing his lips down my neck as a compromise but not ceasing his efforts to convey how much he wants me.

"Jungkook someone could see us" I reprimand him half heartedly, tilting my head to the side automatically, my body going through the same song and dance we've done time and time again. "Don't worry, I'll be able to sense them coming" he says, alerting me to another one of his features that I had yet to discover.

"You mean to tell me you have sensors that'll alert you if someone is coming just so we can have sex in public?" I scoff, pushing him off of me so I can see his face, needing to know if he's lying or not. "Well...yeah" he says as if it's the most normal thing in the world...news flash, nothing is normal with him.

"What have I gotten myself into?" I sigh, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples giving him the opportunity to come in closer again, placing his hands on my hips and continuing his onslaught of kisses, no doubt leaving a mark or two.

"Let me make you feel good. Just for a little bit, yeah?" he asks, no doubt sensing my arousal that's starting to leak out. "Are you sure you'll know before someone sees?" I ask after contemplating it for a second and he nods, his kisses now on my collarbone, threatening to go lower.

"I know you want to" he temps and I can't ignore that I do. We both know that this would help improve my mood just a little bit so I don't blame his programing for coming up with this solution. My resigning sigh replaced by a whine, him biting down on my collarbone to make me answer sooner.

"Think you can make me cum in three minutes?" I ask, challenging his abilities when I know for a fact that he can. "I don't need three minute doll" he chuckles and slides his hand from my waist to my hip to my thigh and slips it up my skirt, taking his time to tease me making me groan from impatience.

"Come on, let me take my time with you" he rasps in my ear, playing with the elastic of my underwear. "We don't have time" I remind him but he snaps it back making me jump from the surprise abuse to my hip.

"We have plenty of time" he counters and places a kiss below the shell of my ear, his fingers now changing course and trailing their way to my inner thigh, soon rubbing me through my thong, the damp spot on it undeniable making me mewl at the sensation.

"Jungkook please" I whine, fed up with the teasing so he relents this time, pushing it to the side and running his finger through my folds, catching me off guard when it starts to vibrate against me, placing my hand over my mouth, preventing the moan that was about to come out from being completely audible to any passerby, no matter if they can see us or not.

He dips a finger inside of me, rubbing his thumb against my clit, kicking up the buzzing sensation, making me whimper, the pleasure bubbling up sooner than I had expected.

I had no fucking idea he could do this, the vibrating abilities seemingly hidden from me for a moment like this, when he knows I need to cum hard and fast, voyeurism not being one of my kinks...yet.

"Fuck, Jungkook. Please" I gasp, the intensity of his fingers enough to tip me over but when he kneels down in front of me I about lose it there. His mouth attaching to me immediately, his tongue exploring my cunt and making my eyes roll back, my throat gone completely dry.

I lace my fingers through his hair and pull at his locks, the balance against the tree not being enough for me anymore as he throws one of my legs over his shoulder, granting him better access, his slurping against me making my eyes roll back, forbidden sounds from him making me lose my sense of sanity, forgetting where we are.

Once he places his vibrating thumb on my clit again I'm gone, cumming harder than I have in a while, the intensity of it leaving my knees weak, threatening to make me fall to them.

Once he's stopped licking me clean, the mewls from overstimulation heard loud and clear he gets out from under my dress and smirks at me, clearly satisfied with the work he's done. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, not bothering to try to clean up properly, getting off his knees and pressing his lips against mine again, the taste of myself of his lips enough to make me wet again.

I hear a scoff from behind Jungkook and I bite down on his lip in surprise, backing away from him, him not flinching at all with the lack of feeling absent from his robotic state. "This is a public park you freaks" the same woman from the coffee shop reprimands us, mortified by the scene she happened upon.

"Had to make it up to her for earlier" he shrugs leaving her scoffing once more, her obvious favorite form of response and storming out. Her cheeks now tinted a dark pink from sheer embarrassment, but no doubt mixed with anger.

Jungkook chuckles and turns back to me, expecting my reaction to be just as amused as his but I'm mad. More than mad I'm furious.

"You said you'd be able to stop before someone got close enough to see us!" I growl through gritted teeth making him coo at my now humiliated reaction. "What? I figured it would be best to show her who I'm really interested in, and clearly belong to" he says and pulls me in by my hips with me reluctantly dragging my feet all the way.

"Love you" he chuckles, infuriating me further. "I hate you" I counter and he laughs, "I'm sure you do" he replies and turns to walk away from me making me chase after him.

"Hey! I'm not done talking to you" I call out, trying to yank him to stop but of course it doesn't work, his strength unparalleled leaving me again dragging behind him awkwardly sighing before interlinking our arms to keep him close on this suddenly crowded sidewalk, people no doubt coming out to watch the sunset, me completely disregarding that replaced by my anger towards him.

"Let's just go home, we can continue our conversation there" he chuckles leaving me now being the one to scoff, muttering curses towards him to myself, his hearing impeccable, never being able to hide even the slightest whisper.

"Yes but I'm your dumb fucking robot, emphasis on the fucking" he says, his corny try of making me smile unsuccessful, leaving me rolling my eyes, the reaction although not initially expected making him the one who's smiling as a result.

"I love you" he tries again but is met with silence, "Oh Jungkook I love you too, you know exactly how to eat me out just right. Oh please won't you do it again?" he says in literally my voice, yet another feature hidden from me.

"Shut up!" I growl making him laugh, my clear surprise to it thoroughly amusing.

"Didn't you read the manual? I'm surprised you haven't asked me about my other features besides the basics of replicating human sex" he says, loud enough for just anyone to hear but luckily we're out of earshot. "I thought it was pretty self explanatory" I say in a hushed tone after placing my hand over his mouth, him licking it as a result making me withdraw it immediately.

"What? 'How to fuck your robot' wasn't interesting enough for you?" he chuckles, using the term Ava and I made up for said manual. "Just shut up and get in the car" I groan and he thankfully does as he's told, telling me everything he can do in very, very explicit detail all the way home.

"You wanna try some of them out" he temps, sliding his hand along my thigh once we pull up to the house. "NO!" I growl and get out of the car, slamming the door leaving a very very satisfied Jungkook to follow behind.

Drabble Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon Rest of the tags are in the comments 💜

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gravegoer · 2 days ago

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DADS FRIEND SEVIKA.... need her... sneaking around w her and stuff , possibly hcs

Secrets 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

i keep saying this but this is one of my favorite tropes... your age gap with her i tried to make somewhat reasonable so its not too extreme, and NOT ILLEGAL , and yes this is hcs kinda i guess. summary: sevika is your dads best friend, and your secret gf...

masterlist , mild nsfw

Sevika never had feelings for you up until the day you got back from collage. You seem to have matured more, at least in her eyes. But to your dad, you were still his little girl.

That's why she felt guilty for the thoughts she was starting to harbor for you. She supressed them as much as she physically could, but the way you looked at her and interacted with her made it near impossible.

The way you brought her water when she was all sweaty and dirty from helping your dad work on his car, your soft eyes meeting hers with a smile on your lips. It was so innocent yet you were drawing her in perfectly.

When you sat on the counter of the kitchen, engaging in conversation with her and your father she eyed the way your plush thighs contrasted against the marble.

You knew she liked you, and you felt the same way, for a long time actually, even when she didnt spare you a glance.

So you made sure to hug her a little tighter, and a little longer before she left. Looking up at her through your eyelashes, and delivering an innocent peck on the cheek.

At family gatherings you would let her pull out your chair for you, making sure she noticed the curve of your ass as you sat down.

Finally, she had enough.

When you were helping her bring boxes into the attic you had your back almost flush to her as you bent over to set down a large box.

"You know what you're doing"

Sevika grunted, pulling you into her warmth and slamming her lips into yours. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when you didn't bother retaliating and pulled her in closer.

The only thing that was holding her back is the scorn of your family. What would they think?

But it obviously wasn't holding her back, as for the next few weeks before you could speak to her in private again, she was always shooting you small glances and smirks.

And of course, you always returned them, brushing a hand down her toned arm when your dad wasn't looking, then switching to a firm pat when he turned around.

About three weeks later was the first time you guys could converse (kind of) privately, away from the rest of your family. She had told your father that she wanted to take you out on a 'girls' night.'

You knew better.

Your face flushed red when she asked right in front of you, knowing your dad would happily agree, overjoyed that his best friend and daughter were spending more time together.

To your surprise, she did take you out, on a nice dinner. You talked for a long time about your feelings for each other, it was mostly Sevika nodding and grunting in agreement. (Sometimes face palming at your eagerness.)

She took you to her home, more specifically, her room. She showed you what you were missing out on in college.

Sevika's hands are definitely more experienced than the women you were with previously, her calloused palms circling your hips and tracing your inner thighs.

You rode her thick thigh as she pressed a finger to your clit, cooing into your ear. She helped you ride out your orgasm until your head was resting on her shoulder, eyes slipping closed.

Sevika pushed your head back.

"Have to get you home at the curfew your dad set, yeah?"

You groaned, remembering your dad wanted you back by 11 PM for dinner. Your whole body protested as she lifted you from your position, helping clothe you.

You felt like a newborn deer, just learning how to walk, as you limped to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you finished, you came back to Sevika on the edge of the bed, her legs spread, and a cigarillo between her scarred lips.

You almost jumped into her lap at the sight before she got up, putting a hand on your waist to lead you to the door.

When you got home, you headed straight to your room, unable to look your dad in the eyes so soon. You could hear his and Sevikas' conversation.

"Yep, took good care of her alright."

From then on you both vowed to never let your family find out, not anytime soon anyway.

When nobody was looking, she would deliver a smack to your butt, but you were unable to do anything when she immediately delved into conversation with your father.

Sometimes, she slept over if she stayed a little too late, and you would visit her in the guest bedroom, trying your best to stay quiet. (Her hand is always over your mouth)

She slings her arm around your shoulder, and nobody thinks anything of it, but you see her small smirk.

When Sevika's fixing your sink, you sit on the counter above her while she lays on her back on the floor, reaching up to fiddle with the pipes. You can't see her upper half, but what you can see is her V line peeking out from under her shirt.

If she saw you bringing any friends over, she would raise an eyebrow before you reassured her with a wave and smile.

But she would still hover around the door of your room to make sure.

Your father trusts you going over to her home, so you linger there often, a lot of your clothes and other items litter her bedroom and bathroom

She appreciates the constant reminder of you.

kinda short??

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @archangeldyke-all @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids @aizawasbaeee @ariya13 @tiyawnyana @n39ro-chann

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yuvany · 2 days ago

Text

CHRITSMAS TREE SHOPPING // ENHYPEN

OT7 ENHYPEN x f !reader contains : est relationship + not ptoofread // no cw !! 𝐰𝐜: 1.2k

─── ( on point ) this is promt nr.12 for @cupidhoons seaon of romance event !! such a fun idea and I enjoyed writing this a lot.

NOTE : finally back and posting... enjoy ? I hope

reblogs are always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

going shopping with him sometimes felt more like a task, especially when it was time for holidays. Heeseung becomes competative and fierce because if he really wants something, he'll fight for it - even when you're his girlfriend. On the walk over to the christmas tree market, you could feel the intensity radiating off him, and you start to get worried, because well, it's only a tree, right? Wrong. "What tree do you wanna get?" You ask your boyfriend who was holding your hand in his that was cosily in his pocket. "I really want a classic green, and you, babe?" He asked, and you felt his eyes on you. "I wanna try white one this year!" Upon hearing that, Heeseung purses his lips. "White?" "yes! have you not seen those pinterest posts?" At this point, the two of you have stopped walking, and were blocking the way, going back and forth on what colour was the best. "Will you agree if I give you a kiss?" you say at least, and he replies, "One won't be enough. How about a hundred more, mm?"

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay doesn't seem like the type to be very picky when it comes to choosing stuff, he only wanted to know what you were interested in. "Have any plans for Christmas?" He asked you, walking beside you on the side walk that hardly looked any different from the road where cars drove by, their window swipers shoving the snow away from the glass. "Actually, no idea." Jay sweats, because what are two clueless lovers supposed to do in a market? "What do you think?" You asked your boyfriend, He clears his throat and pullls out his phone. This motivates you to continue picking on him the whole walk there. "I don't know either, babe." He admits at last. "We gotta YOLO it I suppose, let's hurry, I wanna look at the trees!" You say and pull him behind you. Even though you didn't know what you wanted to buy, you somehow knew what you did not like. "This one is pretty." Jay said, pointing at a dark green coloured one. "we for sure have different tastes." You comment with a scowl.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Jake wants to find the perfect christmas tree, a tree where he can place all the presents he had bought for you. The market was filled with trees ranging of different heights and colours, you did not really care what tree you guys would carry home at the end of the day, but Jake was running around the place with you on his tail. "babe, calm down!" You call out, your legs almost giving up on you. "Hurry! look at that one!" He says, stopping only to tell you to keep up with him. You heave a sigh and stomp your feet, frustrated. "c'mon..." Jake moops, his palms on your shoulders. "Just pick a tree, you're not an expert." You groan, and Jake shakes his head. "But we need to find the perfect tree. I'm not leaving until we find the one." "Just pick any one, the decorations will make the tree pretty." You argue, your head finding his chest as exhaustion catches up to you.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

It's been hours of walking around the place, and the both of you could not agree on one tree that the both of you found pretty. At first he said he didn't care, but gradually he revealed his real demeanour. "But you said I could pick whichever one!" You whine, and Sunghoon shoves his hands into his pockets cluelessly. "What do you mean, sweetie? I did not say that." Sunghoon lied. You shake your head at his words, feeling betrayed by the one you thought you could trust the most. "It's just a tree, hoonie, and you can't take back a promise. We pinky promised." Sunghoon remembers this vividly and winces as he tries to make an excuse, but he can't find one that'll satisfy the both of you. "Sure, go ahead. I did promise you, lovely." He walks towards you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Do you really want this brown, poop-coloured tree?" "I was actualy joking with you." You admit.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo is a perfectionist, but he also loves you. You had walked up to a classic tree that had that traditional musky colour, the scent of freshly cut wood and the aroma of chirstmas making its way through the market. Something classic could never go wrong, right? That's what you thought at least until you look over your shoulder to get Sunoo's opinion. Upon the sight of his raised eyebrow, crossed arms as he tapped his boot against the thinly covered ground, you start to second guess. "Babe, what do you think of this?" You ask with hesitation. He lets out a hum, "It's alright, I suppose." You shurg his reaction off, and turn to look to the next tree due to his reaction. He sees this, and gets ahold of your shoulder. "Why did you continue looking? Didn't you want this one?" He asks, and you shrug. "I mean, it didn't seem like you liked it." You explained. "I mean, as long as I get to decorate it, I'm fine with anything." Sunoo reassures, and you chuckle.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

He could not care less about what tree would be carried home that eveing, he just wanted to tease you. Whenever you suggested a tree, he'd turn down the option. It came to the point where you were pointing at every christmas tree that you passed and he'd still shake his head.Your legs began to get tired and you stood in place in front of a classic short tree and pointed at it. "What about this one then?" You asked him with an eyebrow cocked upwards. Jungwon had his fingers around his chin as he was mocking a stance deep in thought. "Are you sure about this one?" He asked. "Goodness, this is the last one in this place and the one you haven't said no to. Go pick one for yourself." You sighed and Jungwon combed his hair back upon seeing your tired state. "babe, I was just teasing, get whichever one you want and decoration, and I'll pay." He offers with a hand cupping your cheek.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

"What do you think of this one?" you asked, trying to find at least one tree that the two of you could agree on. "Can't you see that it has too many branches?" Riki judges, and you can't believe how childish he is being. "That one is the perfect one," he continues, pointing at a tree in the distance. "Are you really sure, because I find that it is very ugly. no offence." You sass, looking at the too tall tree. You feel his sharp gaze judge you, but you only giggle at this, knowing you managed to tick him off. "So... what do you wanna do?" You asked him, nudging your shoulder with his. "Obviously that tree." Riki looks over at the one he was insisiting on bringing home. "Lets settle this with rock paper scissor." You challenged him, and he eagerly nodded. "Rock, paper scissor..." He counted down, and you played a paper, and he did a scissor, resulting in his victory. "You were just lucky this time." You sulk.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 2 days ago

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clark kent loves quietly

This is a collection of head canons I wrote with David!Clark in mind, but would really work for any Clark iteration. That teaser trailer did something to my brain

He knows that you hate being spooked, and his quiet footfalls have gotten the better of you more times than you would ever admit. When he comes home from a day of work, or finds you tucked into whatever you are working on, he purposefully makes sure that his footfalls are heavy, so that you hear him coming. You jump slightly when he notches his chin in the space between your head and shoulder, but he is quick to squeeze you tight and soothe them away.

You would think that he tries to fight your battles for you, protection hard wired into his veins. But he’s much the opposite. He knows that you can take care of yourself (super-human threats excluded, of course) and is happy to watch you stand up for yourself. It’s nice to see you love yourself loudly by making your wishes known.

This man can cook. He spent a lot of time with his mom in the kitchen, who used cooking to cope after his father passed. He absorbed every second of it, intent on making the memories last. Food is one of his love languages now. He will pick up your favorites if he is eating out, but when you are having a particularly hard day, he plops you down on the couch with your beverage of choice in hand, and insists you don’t move. You had assumed that cooking would be frustrating for him, all the super speed in the world can’t make onions caramelize faster, but he finds it so soothing- especially when he knows that you’re going to give him one of your big smiles, the kind saved just for him, at the end of it all. His specialties are casseroles and chilis and his mom’s fluffy biscuits, if you were wondering.

Does his best to mind his business (keeping his super hearing off the speed of your heart) as long as you promise to let him know what is bothering you as soon as you’re comfortable. He hates to see you hurting, but also respects that sometimes you need to process on your own. It’s unspoken between the two of you, you’ll curl up with him when you’re ready and spill your guts, and he will have a super powered ear at the ready.

Any of your accomplishments are office gossip for weeks, because he is telling everyone. A picture of you with the degree you finished several months into dating is framed on his desk, when you accept his proposal he finds ways to slip it into most conversations. You always blush, which fills him with pride. He insists it isn’t gossiping if it’s talking about yourself. You smile and resist the urge to point out that it is often more so about you. He views you as a singular unit in all things, and you can’t find it in yourself to complain.

Clark was simultaneously terrified when you figured out that he was the one flying around the city fighting super humans (and rescuing the occasional cat stuck in a tree), and not the least bit surprised. He has long considered you one of the smartest people that he has ever known. He chides himself for not preparing for it better. He stood speechless for several moments, before tripping over his words, a muddled confusion of explanation and apology. He calmed when you smiled shyly at him, approaching him like he might spook at any minute. He stilled, allowing you to take control of the situation and gently slip your hand into his. You squeezed, he squeezed back, and the rest was history.

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alientee · 3 days ago

Text

Shimmer Head

Ekko x reader

6k+ words

Fem reeader

Hazbin hotel Easter egg included. Addicted song describes reader.

Warning: suicidal thoughts and actions, drug use not by choice though.

Im sorry it took so long yall I’ve been crocheting blankets for Christmas and life has been lifting with work

You were an anomaly, or at least that’s what Silco called you. Apparently he saved you at birth; one calm walk through Zaun's lanes, and your mom was an overdosing shimmer head who was getting her last fix before she pushed you out. You survived. This was something Silco never thought possible; even when you looked like a shivering, whining skeleton, you were strong, a survivor, and from that day on, you were his daughter.

As life went on, you got stronger, faster, and a little more insane; your eyes changed, looking like a wild mix of two different colors. You changed so much it confused you every day to see yourself. How the voices in your head would go from telling you to slaughter everyone to offing yourself.

Silco had you microdosed with shimmer ever since you were a newborn till now, and you handled it each and every time. You were his creation, his wild card. Even as a child, he had you by his side with torture, robbing, and meetings. You’ve done it all. There were days the voices really did get to you; sometimes it was better to hurt yourself rather than to crash. You can remember the times Silco had to stop you from hurting him and yourself. The scars on your arms, the bloodstains left on your clothes, the burn scars from throwing bone down without any care, ready to give it all up. Either you survived, or Silco was just in time.

So when you first met Jinx, your first thoughts were, This poor kid, she’s just a dreamer.

But she followed you around everywhere, calling you sis, saying she’d never leave your side, she’d never leave you no matter what. Not like her sister did. You didn’t believe her; how could you? No one but Silco ever saw you; he’s the only one that loved you.

Until she followed you to a club one night.

You spin around in the chair, listening to the grungy punk music, drunk, horny prowlers, angry wannabes, and goofy dancers mixing into the crowd. You sit in your chair in the corner of the club, drink in one hand, revolver in the other. One bullet, one drink—it was all a game to you. The gun clicked three times, and you took three shots before it was snatched from your hand. And lo and behold, it was your new shadow coming to ruin the fun.

“Hey, what gives, Blue Jay!”

“How are you going to be the big shot legacy Silco says if you're dead, dumbass!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“We’re family now, so yeah, you are!”

“You going to love me even if I try to kill Silco in his sleep?”

“I’d still love you even if you killed me with him.”

Family, huh?

“Fine.”

For the first time you didn’t take your game too far, or get fucked up and pass out behind the bar; you didn’t even have a mental breakdown.

At least the voices got quiet for a while.

After a while you started to think of Jinx as a sister. Someone you could confide in, someone who gets you. Was Silco the best dad? Nah, but he was all you had. Now you know he had Jinx too. You thought everything was ok; you could be happy with your found family; even if you were broken, you still had people to fix you up, so everything was fine.

At least you genuinely believed everything was alright.

Until Jinx’s actual sister showed up, calling her Powder, the hugging, the crying, the family reunion was cute. You haven’t seen Jinx this vulnerable in a while. Everything was calm until some Piltie came out, and then the moment was gone. Jinx threatens the redhead with the gun, and boom, the Firelights had you all surrounded.

“Jinx, if you want your sister back, you gotta be smart about this.” The silence you got back let her know she was thinking up something stupid.

Smoke and ash covered the air, bullets flying and fighting at every turn. The firebugs just didn’t know when to quit, always trying to get into business that isn’t theirs. It was fun knocking them off their boards every once in a while. You’ve faced them before with Jinx killed a couple of times; you didn’t kill any of them, though. Never had the guts to really kill innocent people; you didn’t want to know what the voices would say if you did. You didn’t want to lose yourself all the way.

As always, Jinx is shooting bullets every which way in the sky, which wasn’t bad, but using bombs to blow up the platform is very bad. Your body hurt, your ears were ringing, and you could barely breathe. You tried calling out for Jinx but got no answer. You finally dragged yourself up; you can see some fire bugs down, but you couldn’t see Jinx. Couldn’t see her sister. Didn’t even see the body lying dead somewhere.

Huh, you were all alone.

Then it dawned on you: Jinx did it on purpose. She really was a genius, truly. She blew up the platform, making a distraction; a lot of people were down and out. Nobody could see what was happening; some too injured to chase.

Looks like she could only carry her sister to safety, though.

You’ll never leave me no matter what, huh?

Hehehehehe, yeah right!

You could finally breathe again and got the strength to stand up. It was all just so funny, really.

Bunch of bullshit hahahahaha

You didn’t notice anything going on around you, the shuffling of people standing; you didn’t feel all the cautious eyes on you. Not that you cared; all you cared about were the voices screaming at you so loud you could swear your ears were bleeding.

Walking towards the edge of the platform is easy. Turning around and giving a mock salute to the firelights with a smile on your face was easy. But dropping to your death knowing the last thing playing in your headphones was your and Jinx's song, it fucking burned every lyric you tried to sing just turned to ash in your mouth.

But at least now the voices would stop forever. The air rushed through your ears and then nothing.

Out like a light

You woke up in an eerily dark room; honestly, it was predictable. Down to the moldy smell, the silence, and the creepy guy in the corner with a mask. And you honestly should’ve been more mad at yourself for getting saved; you couldn’t even die in peace!

“Why am I alive, dammit!”

The silence was so annoying; there’s no need to try and be intimidating. You’ve seen worse. You hate people who try those tactics; you can’t torture someone who’s already tortured every day. Geez, just kill them if they don’t tell you what you want.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you shit, so just kill me already!”

And then the mask comes off. You don’t know him, but you knew him, apparently jinx’s past. The boy savior, she calls him; he looks just like she said he would. You also remember what she told you about him. “Better watch out; the boy savior likes to think he can save everybody.”

Ok, you can deal with a wannabe hero.

“Your on shimmer. You are an addict; Slico has you do his dirty work, and he gives you your next fix. Am I right?”

You’re really fucking wrong. Scratch that; you didn’t want to deal with the wannabe hero.

“So how about you tell me what I need to know, and you get to lay low somewhere secret and get off that shit before you try and die again while Silco just replaces you?”

The voices started to get louder, your throat tight and blood dripping from your palms for how tight you started to squeeze them. His words were like acid on your skin. Just who did this asshole think he was?

“First of all, dipshit, I’m his daughter! Ok, not some random street rat shimmer head he feeds. Second of all, shimmer makes people stronger. I should know; came right out of my druggie mom, still living and breathing, full of shimmer! I’ve been injected with it since Silco adopted me! He says I’m perfect; he says I'm his legacy. I don’t do his dirty work; I help him make Zaun better! So you're dead fucking wrong, wannabe!”

Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy…. And you're used to that.

“This is better? Our people are dying all around us. Kids are abandoned! People are sick and starving. How is this better?”

“Blame Piltover! Duh!”

“It’s Piltover. And Silco, are you crazy??!!”

That word. It always did something to you. You didn’t care when people looked at you like you were... but calling you crazy? Different story. Something that made all the voices laugh, an itch in your brain that told you to break, hurt, destroy, kill, and show them your insane.

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! Hahahahahahahahaha. All of Piltover and Zaun is going to burn you, and your fucking bugs are going to be ash! I’m not crazy. I’m perfect. I’m perfect he said”—

Your music!?! Where were your headphones?!!?

You were so numb, in a really dark place, you never fully remembered how your episodes went. When that singed guy injected you with your first microdose of shimmer, all you remembered was the screaming and Silco whispering how proud he was. But Ekko would remember it all even in his dreams. How you banged your head against the pole you were tied against over and over again. Crying tears of shimmer while laughing hysterically until blood dripped on the side of your head. Only to end up sobbing.

The voices screamed and screamed and screamed. Until they stopped, they never just stopped without music or silco. And you never had this heavy feeling over your ears without your headphones.

Oh, it’s this Ekko guy. What is he doing? Why is he holding his hands over your face? Why is he looking at you like that?

“I’m sorry. You’re not crazy. I promise, okay? Breath for me nice and slow.”

This was nice: everything quiet, everything nice and warm. This is new, huh?

“Hey!? Wai”—

Out like a light again

“She’s a danger to the base!”

“We can help her. She’s not like Jinx! She’s the product of a bad situation. She’s not with Silco because she wants to be; it’s because it’s all she knows.”

“She’s a mess; keeping her here is like bringing bullshit to our door!”

“He’s been injecting her with shimmer since she was an infant! We can’t kick her out!”

“Can y'all shut up sleeping here?”

Bat Guy and Ekko just stared at you.

“Look, I don’t care what you do to me; can I just have my damn headphones? The voices, ya know, they’re telling me to escape and kill everyone here. Soooooo, my earphones, pretty please.”

The boy wonder hands them over and puts them over your ears. And even with no music playing, everything feels peaceful. The whole time, he and Bat Boy are still going back and forth; this time you couldn’t hear it, though. Finally you get silence, if only for a moment. You almost bit Ekko when he moved one of them back off.

“Look, let’s compromise: you get a little freedom, supervised. And we get one shimmer shipment location… not the factory, just the shipment.”

“No bullshit babysitters; it’s you or nothing.”

“...fine.”

You could’ve told him to fuck off and die. Make him eat his sappy little words. But after the way he held your ears, he looked like a kicked puppy for making you freak out. How softly he said sorry. It was different; it was new. You didn’t do soft, not that much.Silco always told you to play your enemies, so maybe giving a little bait wouldn’t be too bad.

“Fine, boy wonder, I’ll give you a shipment that’s all.”

“Thank you.”

There he goes, looking at you like that again.

Like some kind of puppy. What a sucker.

Ekko took you outside, but you didn’t want to socialize, so he kept you both at a good distance from the others. While taking you out of the base, you didn’t want to look at anyone. If you saw any leering faces and judging eyes, you knew you’d lash out.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to smack the fuck out of Ekko's face. Maybe a little bit, not a lot. You didn’t know what it was, but Ekko was calming; his presence was like a warmth in the dark murk of Zaun. You didn’t understand how he could be so... normal with all of this around him.

Maybe it was the fact that he actually took you out of the hideout and onto a roof to look over Piltover. You could’ve knocked him out, taken his board, and run. Why is he so stupidly trusting? “How do you do it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do what?” You raise one back “Be so happy-go-lucky when we live in a place like Zaun.” That made him stop his steps, and he looks serious; you haven’t seen him unless he’s talking about shipments.

“I have to make a change for the people who can’t help themselves; I want to give people something to live for; the firelight is my way of doing that.”

And there he goes again, making your mind feel funny again. It sounds like he means it; everything Ekko says always sounds genuine, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to believe him.

“Alright then, help me by teaching me how to ride one of those hoverboard things.” Ekko’s eyes get wide, and his mouth even opens a little. “You want to learn? I’ve been trying to get you to do that for a week. What changed?” You didn’t want to let him know the real reason, so you decided to play it off.

“Just thought I could kick your butt at something, boy wonder,” he scoffed. You knew he hated the nickname; it was too fun teasing him to stop, though.

“Alright, alright. If you’re so confident, then I’ll teach you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you end up falling off a few times.”

“I’ll be a pro; just you wait and see.”

You were in fact not a pro. Your knees were scuffed, and the dirt on your clothes was a testament to just how many times you hit the dirt. “Sorry this is taking so long; I feel fucking stupid.” Ekko grabs your hands and pulls you up, grabbing the board. “Don’t; it takes everyone a minute to learn this is no different. How do you think I feel? I made it; I had to test it and fall a lot.” You give him a nod, deciding to take the board back with a little more confidence this time. “What a boy genius you are,” you got a snort in return.

“Now, remember, hoverboards are pretty sensitive. You have to find your balance and keep it steady. And be careful not to lean too far to one side or the other, or you’ll tip over.” Ekko watches you carefully as you mount the hoverboard, his arms crossed over his chest. The hoverboard begins to move forward as you lean, slowly at first, but steadily gaining speed.

You could hear Ekko yelling behind you, “There you go, you’re doing great! Just keep your balance and focus on the path ahead.”

“What about turns!? What if I fall??”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

You got the hang of it after a while; you both went back to the base riding your hoverboard and even racing some of the kids. It was a good time, no responsibilities, no expectations. It still hurt you; there was no Silco, but at least you had distractions.

Ekko seemed to show up when he wasn’t asked; it’s like he knew when to butt into people's business.

He was there during your worst moments of loneliness. When the darkness was too much, when the voices kept repeating the insults louder and crueler. Telling you to kill yourself, that you're nothing, worthless, not good enough, burn the firelight base to the ground, and watch everyone around you die. You’ll only end up alone anyway. The smell of ash and blood, you could remember it by heart. Tears pouring out of your eyes continuously, you didn’t even sob. You had nothing to be sad about in the moment. You just naturally cried, and all you could do was scream, hoping I’d stop. Sitting in the dark waiting for it all to end. Thinking, hoping that just maybe one day you’d be blessed enough not to wake up.

It wasn’t until you felt Ekko's heavy gloves on your shoulder. Asking if you were ok, if you needed anything, if you needed him. Looking at you like you're the only thing that mattered in the moment. Moving to sit next to you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. “You don’t have to talk; just know I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” Those days were hard, but it always felt nice to have Ekko lying on the floor next to you, no words, just his company.

He even let you into his little workshop. His words: “You don’t have to knock. If you need me, just come in” You’d hand him his tools and use all the knowledge you had on tech to help. You used to make a lot of trinkets that helped your day-to-day life. You didn’t like to make weapons like Jinx, but you could make a mean bomb. You’ve even fallen asleep to his tinkering and his little nerd-out moments. “You're such a dork.” He wouldn’t even take his eyes off his invention.

“Shush if you're not going to help.”

“Touchy touchy. Here, let me look, boy genius.” When you actually put in effort to help him, he’d look at you from the side of his eye, and you’d pretend like you didn’t notice the small smile creeping up on his face. Sitting by his side until late at night, making new things to help out in the base. Both your giggles and the metal clanking were the only things heard at 3 am.

And that’s how it was for a month. Ekko is coming in, trying to coax you into giving up Silco; you give him a little info, and he folds and gives you what you want for the day. You had a good thing going. So why’d he want to ruin it now? You were fine seeing the kids; you made small talk with one of the firelight girls, but that’s it. Everyone else you dealt with in passing. So why was Ekko so set on you interacting with more people?

“How about we hang out with the group for a bit?”

“I’m fine; I hate people.”

“Look, I’m just trying to—“

“I don’t need help! I don't need friends! I—I need my dad; I need…. I need to feel in control. It still feels like I’m a fucking prisoner even if you say I’m not.

Ekko doesn’t talk for a minute; you can tell he’s trying to choose his words wisely, his white locs covering his face. “I don’t know what you see in Silco, even if he took you in…. You can’t tell me you truly see the good in what he’s doing.

You didn’t answer him. Afraid you’ll say something you’ll regret by lashing out. He didn’t get it; he didn’t get you! Silco was your dad; Silco helped you ignore the voices; he loved you even if he had a funny way of showing it.

“He’s not the best dad in the world, but he’s my dad. He helped me when I had no one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Ekko didn’t answer you; it’s like he wanted to argue, but he knew you needed this.

“Just... just give it a chance; you may find your people.”

If he heard your scoff, he didn’t react to it.

I don’t have people; all I have is my dad and myself, even when I don’t love myself.

Ekko’s soft words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You have me too.”

“Until how long, hmmm, till I run out of information?”

“That’s no—“

“Hey, Ekko, tell me how I survived the day I jumped.”

Ekko went back silent; he was giving you that look again, and you hated it. It’s like he saw everything within you, and it made you feel naked, like you couldn’t hide.

“Oh that… flew down to save you.”

“Why?”

“When you smiled at us before you fell, I thought you were asking for help.”

You giggled at that; only Ekko would think of saving his enemy who tried to off themselves in front of him. “Your something else, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower!? What kind of flower is that? We don’t have those in Zaun.”

“Alright, take me out or whatever it is you want.”

“D-don’t say it like that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

You never knew Zaun could look like this, or even have a tree, and now the name firelights makes sense: nothing but a lush green tree with the fireflies all around it. It’s peaceful, plush; it’s nice. You got a few looks here and there, but it’s fine; ekkos here, and you weren’t forced to hang out with who you didn’t want to.

And that’s how you spent your day bonding with Ekko and even the kids; they weren’t as judgy, and you appreciated it. Even when they had questions, it didn’t feel pointed. “Why do you always wear those things on your head?” your headphones; you never took them off, never could bring yourself to part from the one thing that helps stop the voices, no matter how battered and dingy they are. “They’re headphones. They help me when I’m scared or upset.” “Oooooh, I get it; my mask helps me! Makes me feel stronger!” “Good, use your strength to become the best firelight you can be.”

That’s how the day started and ended: you playing with the kids, running around, playing tag and hide and seek until the night came. The kids gathered around, using common objects around them to make a little band; music brings a lot of the firelights together, and somebody brings an actual scrap-made speaker playing louder music. Some even start to dance. And in this moment you couldn’t help but think maybe Ekko was right; maybe these people were ok.

You grab the overworking leader by the arm and pull him with you. “What is it?”

“Come on, Ekko, let’s dance!”

“Dance?”

“Yeah, you scared boy wonder?“

“Not at all, but um… why?”

“Who doesn’t like dancing!”

That’s when the music hits and nothing else matters. Ekko moves effortlessly, his body flowing in perfect harmony with yours. He keeps you close, his chest pressed against yours as he twirls you around. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your body’s moving in rhythm as the music gets Ekko pulls you closer, one hand resting on your waist while the other takes hold of your hand, spinning you. He begins to sway gently, guiding you in a slow dance. Holding each other’s sides, swaying back and forth. Every minute you got to look in Ekkos's eyes, seeing him smile at you like that did something to you; he really was something else.

You couldn’t let those eyes shake you, though. You knew it was only a matter of time before it all went to hell; no one really gives a damn about you, no one except Silco. But maybe if you were a better daughter, he would’ve found you by now.

Ekko could only look at you in confusion when you walked away from him, away from the gathering. He thought it was a good moment that he was finally getting through to you. But he wasn’t one to push, not when he knew what you’d been through, but he followed you up the stairs to the treehouse.

And when he found you, the silence was heavy but comfortable. That’s how it was with you too, and you’d never say it out loud, but he made you feel safe.

“Do you want to stay here?”

You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” you looked away, closing your eyes, trying to stop yourself from getting out of hand. Ekko hummed, leaving more silence in between you both, and then he asked another, “Even if you know Silco loves you, it isn’t healthy.”

You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share.

“My mother was a shimmer addict; she had me right as she overdosed. And Silco found me; I was different; I survived even with a small, premature body full of shimmer. He said I was unique, that I could change all of Zaun. I believe him. I’ve done a lot of great things… at least I think so. Even if you don’t agree with him, he saved me.

“But you're not okay—

“Don’t tell me what I am! I’m perfect as I am; he said so! I may not be normal, but I am living instead of surviving, Ekko! Can’t you see that?”

“I do. But you know what else I see? I see how happy you are riding your board; I see how sweet you are with the kids, especially when you steal yarn from the top side and crochet stuff for them; I see how you care for Raven when you think she’s not looking by finding her favorite things to surprise her without letting her know it was you; I see how you truly care for the people you're loyal to. You touch people's lives and leave light in your wake. I see how beautiful you are inside and out. You’re your own person, not what Silcos made you! You can do better than what he has you doing.”

“Is that what you’ve come up with in your mind? That I’m just this lost, misguided girl who was groomed to be fucked up? News flash! Boy Wonder, I’m in Zaun. I was going to be fucked up regardless of Silco! Who do you think I am, huh? Don’t act like you know me, 'cause you don’t! Stop trying to change me into something I’m not! I’m not some knockoff version of Jinx you can fix just because I decided to be nice a few times. What?! I’m your little powder passion project. Couldn’t save her, so you’re trying to save me because we both have family, daddy, and abandonment issues?!”

You knew it was a low blow, but even though she left you, you couldn’t help but think about Jinx’s words, taking them to heart, and everything she told you. “He likes to think he can save everyone.”

He narrowed his eyes at your response; you could see him clenching his fist and clenching his teeth. His eyes no longer looking at you with acceptance or worry like you were used to, only irritation

“I wasn’t trying to change her; I thought she was in danger. I didn’t know she went with that piece of shit willingly…. I thought I could save her; I needed to because she was my friend.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s right, you’re the boy savior!”

His eyes went from a glare to cold and lifeless.

“Fuck you. You know nothing; you only know Jinx's pain but not mine. You’re right about one thing, though: you and Jinx are similar. So I don’t know why I was stupid enough to try and help you; just like her, you don’t deserve it.” That just pissed you off more.

“I didn’t ask you to help me! I didn’t ask for you to save me from offing myself! I didn’t ask for you to try and fucking fix me or my life!”

“I’m not trying to change you; I’m trying to give you something better! A chance! Silco didn’t give you a chance; he used you! Your work, a tool! If you survived on shimmer this long since birth, you're proof that his product can lead to something greater than he thought. But it’s at the expense of you and your health.” His voice lowers, his breathing heavy. “Please… tell me you see it. You have to know that keeping you on shimmer as long as he has wasn’t to help you. Only him.”

In the back of your mind you knew; you always knew. And yet the faith he put in you gave your heart love you’ve never felt before. How he always stated he was proud of you, said you were the best thing to happen in his life, that you're his legacy, his daughter. But what was the cost for your heart, suicidal thoughts, breakdowns, nightmares, and dissociation? A mother that never wanted you, a father that loved you but not enough to see your pain, only your potential. “Hey Ekko, thank you. For saving me and making me realize. I don’t want people to end up like me... because I’m not ok.”

“Then let me he“—”. He didn’t get to finish before you pushed back, making him crash into the tree behind him. You jumped from the stairs on the tree; you didn’t care about the fall because it’s the freest you ever felt. You could hear the other fireflies yelling, but the adrenaline and the wind in your ears helped you ignore them. As soon as you fell, you pushed forward, not caring about the pain in your legs and ankles. Grabbing a hoverboard before speeding off and out of the hideout.

When Ekko got up, he didn’t chase you, nor did he call out for you; all he could do was watch. Scar rushed up to him, looking at him expectingly. “She’s going to go back to Silco!? We have to catch her before she rats us out!?” Ekko didn’t react to his words, only looking forward to where you had run. “Ekko!” And when Ekko finally looked at Scar, he just shrugged. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.” “She’s not coming back." Ekko, she’s been waiting for an opportunity to escape, and we let her!”

Ekko just shook his head, picking up something off the ground. “She’ll be back.” “How do you know!?” Ekko moved his hand in front of Scar, showing him what he picked up. “She left her headphones.” Scar just scoffed. “That doesn't mean anything.” Ekko just shook his head. “Trust me, if you knew her like I do, you’d know it meant everything.”

You wandered around one of Silco's biggest shimmer factories, where most of his shipments go. You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth. “I’m addicted to the madness~” You turned on your headphones, singing along, tuning out the noise below, scummy workers and henchmen everywhere. “Let me leave my soul a-burning; I’ll be breathing it in.” Sneaking down through the crawl spaces, you laid out bombs everywhere you could stick them. You set up trap after trap after trap after trap. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so it was easy to get in and get out.

“I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling~” This place had meaning to you… this was the first place Silco took you when he felt like you were ready to work for him. The first place where he showed you the ropes was the same place he had you start your injections. The same place you had your first breakdown. This felt like a goodbye to the past, the pain, everything that made you feel inadequate. You don’t know what you’d be without Silco; you knew the voices would never fully leave, but at least with this you could let your dad know you were ok and that you were going your own way.

“Just concede and give in to your inner demons again~” You hit the button, and it all blew up—the building, the workers.

And you too. Hopefully, Silco can forgive you for not saying goodbye.

It’s been 3 months; Ekko waited for you to return. But after a while he could only assume you’d either gone your own way or something terrible happened. Missions still happened with no sign of you with Silco's goons, and there’s talk about the huge explosion that happened, so he couldn’t pinpoint what had happened to you; all he had to give him comfort about your departure was your headphones. He never touched them, only keeping them by his bedside with your memory lingering with him whenever there in his sight. But today at 12 am, he finally had the courage to tinker with them, hopefully fixing them up.

He was concentrating so hard he didn’t hear the door open; it was Scar. “Your stray is back,” and as soon as he came, he left.

“Hey sunflower,” he jumped and turned around so quickly you thought he’d fall out of the chair. He did slip a little as he rushed to hug you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

“Missed me?” He squeezed your torso, chuckling a little. “Missed your humor, not your bullshit.” You poked at his side, making him jump. “Lies, you missed that too. Everyone else is boring.

He pulls you over to his patched-up couch, both of you plopping down. You lean into his touch, laying on his shoulder. Neither of you said anything; you didn’t need to. You don’t know what you expected when it came to his reaction. But you’re glad Ekko didn’t pressure you to talk about anything or question what you’d been doing. You’d tell him one of these days. The withdraws, breakdowns, you almost ending it all. But right now you just wanted to enjoy his company; being alone for months took its toll, so it’s good to be back in a warming presence.

It took everything in you to not go back to Silco, to everything that was easier. But you pulled it off, and you hope Ekko could see that you really are trying. “Was it you?” He spoke so softly you thought you just imagined it, but Ekkos looking into your eyes let you know it was real. And you knew what he meant; your explosion was nothing but destruction, but you wanted to leave that behind you. So you said the only thing that was closest to the truth. “I’m following my own path now, Ekko.” When you looked back at him, it almost took your breath away. Those stupid, big, brown eyes looking at you with so much warmth you could’ve melted right then and there. It made you sick.

“I’m happy for you... So you’re just visiting?”

“Geez, trying to kick me out already, huh?” He shook his head. “Of course not. I just…. I want you to be happy and go your own way, even if it’s not here with me.” You looked away, biting your cheek. “So what if I wanted to be happy here?”.

“Then I’d make a space for you right now; you’re always welcome.”

“Even in your room~”

“Yeah, you can stay with me if you want.”

You felt all your thoughts falter and come to a stop once the words were out of his mouth. You paused and looked at him, face red. “Easy there; we don’t want everyone jealous that the big boss in charge is playing favorites.” He pulls you so close, too close. His nose and forehead touching your own. You don’t know this Ekko, Ekko who always was too shy to flirt back, who was always the gentleman, who only gave fleeting touches like he was afraid to break you. “You are my favorite; you’ll always be someone special to me.” You couldn’t help pushing his buttons, not wanting him to see your face reddening.

“Leaders shouldn’t show favoritism, ya know. I’m going to need something for me to keep quiet; wouldn’t want to hurt the kiddies feelings, would you? out of all the things you expected Ekko to say, you didn’t expect what he’d do.

Ekko leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and tender; the brush of his lips is so soft. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, pouring all of his love and affection into the kiss. He leaned back and smiled warmly as he continued to gently caress your cheek. He looked at you with a soft, affectionate expression, his gaze filled with adoration thatyou’d noticed before. You just never had the guts to call him out on it.

“Is that enough to keep you quiet?”

“It's a start.”

#arcane #ekko #ekko arcane #ekko league of legends #ekko lol #ekko x reader #leauge of legends #the arcane spoilers #firelight ekko #ekko x you #jinx arcane #arcane silco #silco #silco and jinx #arcane league of legends #arcane lol #arcane ekko #arcane fanfic #arcane fandom

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foxlikefablez · 24 hours ago

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My favorite thing about platonic JayVik is that it’s very similar to my relationship with my best friend, she’s my soulmate and I’d genuinely do anything for her, I would personally do everything Jayce did to get Viktor back in season 2 if I was in his position with my best friend. That being said my best friend and I have lived our whole lives with people thinking we romantically liked each other, I once had a hilarious conversation with her 5 year old niece asking if I was her boyfriend. We’ve considered ourselves a queer platonic relationship in the past and honestly that doesn’t even describe it perfectly, but in my eyes a well-written friendship will always look at least a little romantic to the outside perspective. Maybe there’s something to say about how people view intimacy like that nowadays but regardless, Viktor and Jayce’s story can really be viewed romantically or platonically and it doesn’t take away anything from the narrative or plot, if anything it makes it stronger because real love doesn’t have such simple labels, sometimes you are simply just partners in a world where no one else believes in you like that one person does and it’s that a beautiful?

#arcane #arcane jayvik #arcane jayce #arcane victor #jayce talis #jayvik

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am-i-interrupting · 19 hours ago

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Across the River | Extra

Consistent Comfort

Summary: Before the explosion, before that fateful night that changed everything, you were able to let your guard down more. Often times on top of a rooftop with the consistent comfort from the steady presence of Claggor.

Today had been. . . a day.

Why wouldn’t she just listen to you? Did she have to be so hardheaded? It wasn’t like you were being unreasonable. You were being completely reasonable.

She couldn’t just run head on into every situation and expect to always come out on top. She was being stupid.

The wind whipped through your hair like your anger did through your body.

You rested your arm on your knee and your head on your hand. The night was dark and cold. But up here, beneath the smog that covered the stars you’d heard of, you could at least breathe.

Footsteps sounded beneath you, heavy and slow. The door to the roof creaked open. The footsteps joined you on the rooftop.

Something was wrapped around you. You looked down and saw a blanket. You felt the weight of a body join you.

“Thanks, Claggor,” you said.

“I brought you this. You looked like you might need it,” he said as he extended a bottle to you.

You huffed a half amused laugh as you took it. “Sneak it from Vander?”

“No, he gave it to me,” he told you.

Oh, so it was obvious you were pissed then. Good. You’d intended for it to be.

Sometimes you thanked Vander. Sometimes you cursed him.

He was like a father to the girls and Mylo and Claggor. You appreciated that, even if to you he’d always be just your uncle. However, being both your uncle and their dad brought challenges.

Sometimes he would step in when he didn’t need to. Sometimes he wouldn’t when it was needed.

Right now you didn’t know what was best.

If he stepped in, maybe Violet would take your warnings seriously. Not only was it her annoying, kill joy older sister telling her to back down but also her dad.

On the other hand, it could undermine you. She might not ever listen to your advice if he always had to come in and put his foot down.

“You know I’m not just trying to stop you from having fun, right?”

“I know.”

“What she does is reckless. She doesn’t think before she acts. She just goes in with her fists and expects everything to be okay. One day it won’t be.”

“You’re right.”

“She got herself hurt. She could have gotten all of you hurt. All of you hurt. What happens then? It’ll be too late to listen to me.”

“It will.”

“Why can’t she just see that all I’m trying to do is keep you guys safe?” you asked, tears starting to form in your eyes. From frustration? Maybe. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“I know.”

You pried off the bottle cap with a jerk and downed a large swig. You coughed at the burn that went down your throat but immediately tilted your head back for another.

The bottle hang loosely between your fingertips.

“I’m sorry for unloading this all onto you—“

“Don’t be.”

“—You don’t need to be in the middle of this.”

Claggor placed his hand on top of yours. “Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes flickered over to him. You were so sure that you must look pathetic.

“This will pass over. She knows that all you care about is everyone’s safety. She just doesn’t want to admit it. You know she hates being bossed around,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if it’s from you or Vander.”

You sighed. He was right.

You placed the bottle beside you. It clicked softly against the rock of the roof.

You shrugged the blanket across your shoulders. The left over fabric pooled against the roofing. You pulled it across Claggor.

“I’m sure you’re cold,” you said.

You leaned your head against his shoulder as you scooted closer. Your arm looped around his own. His hand wrapped around your own.

He was warm against the harsh winds. He was steady. He always had been. Warm and steady and strong, a nice consistency and comfort in the Undercity.

With his presence, you felt your body begin to rest. The tingling warmth of the drink you’d been sipping on only furthered the droop to your eyes.

Your cheek smooshed against his shoulder as your eyes began to close. The drink that had been in your hand fell between your legs and then rolled. It smashed against the ground but within all the sounds of the Undercity, it wasn’t enough to startle you.

Claggor looked at you. You would have looked peaceful if it weren’t for the slight draw of your brows and the tear that was beginning to follow curl of your chin. He brought his thumb up and brushed it away.

He picked you up. One arm supporting your back and the other beneath your knees. He’d left the door slightly ajar, anticipating this to be the outcome. It normally was, whether you came up here due to a fight or not.

He softly knocked the door closed with his foot. Down the stairs he went with you bundled up in his arms.

Claggor didn’t miss the opportunity when his eyes met VI’s to give her a stern look. He normally didn’t. He normally stayed out of it but you’d been up there since your shift at the bar had ended. You didn’t even come down for food that night.

Vi’s head snapped in the other direction, her arms crossed with a pout.

What more could he do?

Down to the beds, he laid you down gently. He pulled the blanket all the way up to cover your shoulders and toes.

He took a moment to brush your hair out of your face, some of it having stuck to your lip. You leaned closer, nuzzling your red tipped nose against his hand. He smiled to himself. He let himself linger for a moment.

Then he removed his hand and dimmed the light from the oil lamp. The door closed with a soft click.

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor arcane x you #and I guess #claggor x reader #claggor x you #listen if claggor had lived. . . He definitely had a crush on reader that’s all I’m saying

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auset66 · 2 days ago

Text

One thing about a Mercury man is

What he looks like his nature is complete opposite to that.

He looks even feels like a "fuckboy" in the first glance but when you get to know him, he is just timid, shy a bit introverted.

Deceiving looks and vibes are what I see the most in the best possible way in Mercury man.

He looks like a gentleman in complete control of himself? Fatherly? Guess what. He is a ladies man and have 30 different affairs.

Point me in this and know about this always first glance, impression and vibes of a Mercury man is always deceiving.

Does it include virgo and gemini too? Bit maybe yes on some extent.

Mercury in 1st house? Mercury with moon? I don't know maybe yes.

My "research"/"observation" was mainly on nakshtras i.e. Ashlesha, Jyestha and Revati.

And no they don't do it deliberately they don't even know how they are perceived even perceived that way. Or maybe it is honestly I don't have Mercury nakshtra so I don't know how they work. But yes they do maintain a certain "image" but still so standback. I don't know honestly like why would a shy boy want to look like an asshole? Yeah maybe to look cool? But somehow

Social perception is the least yet the most important tick in his and yes in her list too. The Mercury people.

Crazy? Confusing? Even ironic isn't it? But I guess it is Mercury.

I wish sometimes I can understand the psyche of this "dibolism" of Mercury natives especially Mercury men in a more "comprehending" sense.

I don't know the reason though like it should be moon men right? The deceiving looks or even rahu maybe but it is Mercury. Yes Mercury men. Sometimes yes even Mercury women too but I see it mostly in Mercury men.

You guys tell me your opinions and experience. Why do you think it might be?

(I am having exams I am sorry I Will reply soon to all of you)

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ronearoundblindly · 3 days ago

Note

Who would give the best presents? (For the holidays maybe)

Jingle bells 🔔 Jingle bells 🔔 Jingle all the way 🎊

This is gonna be focused on holiday/Christmas gifts, but it also describes why--due to the type of presents the guys do give--they are good or 'bad.' It turned out to be NO NONSENSE and shorter than expected, my bad.

Listed in (vague) order of worst to best!

Jimmy Dobyne

Doesn't much see the value in gifts after childhood. Might offer a present here and there. Mostly only bothers with gifts when told he has to get something, whether that is by you in reminder for a party he's going to or for you on an occasion a friend tells him.

Johnny Storm

Shows up with a last-minute gift every time. No planning ahead. Apparently considers his presence a gift...even for your birthday 😒

Lloyd Hansen

Gets you gifts that he likes, basically for him, not you. At least someone enjoys them, right? Correct. If anyone should be appeased, it's Lloyd.

Ari Levinson

Not much of a holiday or celebration person but will step up for very special things. (Hint: it's not for Christmas, and Hanukkah hasn't been gift-focused since he was quite little. Mostly cares about your birthday and big life events.) Sadly, Ari also knows he's not the best gift giver, so...he stopped trying to get better a long time ago.

Curtis Everett

Really against 'stuff' for stuff's sake, so gifts are rare and meaningful but not expensive (unless you two have agreed on the cost of something extravagant). This is a guy you have to do ring shopping with before he proposes.

Ransom Drysdale

Buys you expensive gifts but not necessarily with you and your likes in mind. Sometimes he gets lucky, they're just plain awesome, and you love them that much more.

James Mace

Excessively practical. The use-to-expense ratio is always considered, probably too much.

Bucky Barnes

Very thoughtful, small gifts. He's been afraid of really big gestures and public declarations of any sort. Bucky also staunchly refuses to let anyone else wrap his gifts to others; start to finish, it has to be him choosing, buying, wrapping, and offering each gift.

Steve Rogers

Consistent in giving something for every holiday, anniversary, or event, even if it's just flowers.

*Bucky and Steve fall into the category of if they can hand-make a gift, they will at least try to make it themselves. It's a point of pride. They also baulk at the cost of everything these days, so they tend to keep the price of presents down. Making things from scratch tends to help that.

Andy Barber

Not afraid to drop some dough on your gifts AND always considers what you like, what looks good on you, or what you'll really use.

Jake Jensen

I rank Jake as the best gift giver not because he spends the most money or puts the most thought into each. He spends enough and he thinks enough, but Jake enjoys the process the most. He's so fucking happy to see your face light up (or for you to give him the evil-eye at a joke present). This makes the actual act of gifting with Jake the most exciting. He tries to pick a setting and time that enhances the experience of the gift--no matter how small or goofy the present. Yeah, the rating system here is subjective, but Jake still wins. Sorry not sorry.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63

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mmkclarkey · 23 hours ago

Text

We have a spare room- Part 3

When all goes wrong, moving in with three guys will solve it?

It had been three months since you moved in with three random men, all of which having their own weird affect on you. Chris had quickly become the person you went to when you wanted to talk about Taylor swift or Chappell Roan or anything of the sort, he loved the fact that you didn’t judge him for his feminine side. And you loved the fact that he allowed you to rant about anything to him, always giving the best rants back.

This however meant that you had to judge him for something else, now if there’s one thing you learnt about Chris, it’s that he’ll test his luck, he had the tendency to be a dick to his friends. Arthurtv told you about that one time in school when Chris told the girl Arthur liked that they were in a gay relationship, much to the girl’s dismay.

The way to combat this you may ask? Chris does something wrong, he has to put £1 in the jar, they stole the idea, some show called new girl apparently?

Besides Chris, Arthur was the best person to go to if you wanted something interesting, he had this amazing ability to be able to make you laugh at the most random times. Like the time last week where you were all arguing over the shared bathroom, having the biggest shower you tended to argue over who was going to use it when you go out. Arthur fully started to strip off naked, making you all leave as he shouted that he’d flash you all if you didn’t let him use the shower. In the end, you George and Chris sat on the floor outside the bathroom laughing for nearly an hour.

And then there’s George. George was the classic, blast music and go to parties and drink kind of guy. Somehow you found yourself roped into going to yet another influencer party at least once a week, however, you can’t exactly say that you didn’t like it. Aswell as this, he was absolutely amazing at giving advice, about anything, you had problems with filming? George knew what to do. you had no idea what to wear? he did. It was shocking how good the man was at just daily advice, it made you really appreciate the fact that you have him as a friend now.

You had uploaded a video three days ago where you were playing a horror game on Roblox, which you didn’t see an issue with and as usual got the views you were used to. But today? Today it peaked, around 9000 more people liked it in just the one day.

Then came the comments. and that’s where you realised your mistake. At one point you scream particularly loud and George (being the only other person in the flat at the time) shouts in from his room asking if everything was okay, to which you laugh and shout through that you are making a video and you’re okay. And this would be absolutely no issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your editor left it in, and your viewers, and just people people in general, did not know that you had moved out of your old flat let alone moved in with another man.

This caused a shocking amount of people to guess that you must have broken up with your boyfriend, and got with George almost straight away, and that’s why he’s in your house, concerned whether you’re okay. It didn’t take long for George to be knocking at your door, asking if you were decent so he could come in.

“I’m decent George, come in”

“So… I saw your comments” he says while sitting down on the bed, a bit of a red look on his face, clearly just back from being outside.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise my editor left it in, i’m making a tiktok literally in a minute to tell people that we aren’t together, it just means explaining why I’m here” you say back in an apologetic tone, aware of how overwhelming the fans can be sometimes.

“It’s fine, I promise, do you think we should get us all in the vid just to prove it a bit?” he asks with a curious tone.

You make the decision to do so, making everyone group together on the sofa as you set up your phone, pressing record.

“So… hey guys, i’m making a quick short video to address some things i guess? for reference, I made a video last week that was released three days ago, and in it, George here asked me if i was okay, which is lovely, but we aren’t just friends.”

Arthur giggles and says “We’re all just friends, she just wanted to hide from you guys that she moved out of her old place”

Chris chimes in “Yeah, so if anyone, preferably three girls and a guy want to come wife up this flat feel free”

“Chris shut the fuck up” All three of you say in response, yet all laughing too.

“So yeah, I moved in with Chris, George and Arthur and I guess that’s where I am now, hope this clears things up and I love you all”

I post the video and the comments come in immediately:

this quad is literally iconic

we all know why she moved in with three guys

chris is so Schmidt coded argue with the wall

i’m so glad to see you living your best life baby omg!!

they are such iconic friends we need more videos together

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N i am so incredibly sorry, i’ve been completely procrastinating this, i hope we like it!! also can we notice the fourth wall break xx

taglist: @loveheart-123 @ooostarwarsfandom501st @rougetv @le-le-lea @onlinesuzie @44-ilton @chilwellsancho @pretendyoucantseeme @theresglittleronthefloor @raekensluver @viagracex @neivivenaj @authortelevision

#arthur frederick #george clarkey #arthur hill #italianbach #chrismd #george clarke x reader #uk youtubers

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lost-in-fandoms · 7 hours ago

Text

Winter Warmers day 23: small cock. Maxiel. About 730 words.

Max is great at sucking dick.

He knows, both because multiple people have told him, and because he practiced until he was good at it. He hadn't always been good at it, obviously, his gag reflex was pretty shit actually and his technique was passable at best, but he had worked on it, and now he was great.

He had worked on his gag reflex until he could let guys fuck his throat without chocking. He had taken notes on what made them moan, what made their hand in his hair tighten, and what made their thighs shake. He had learned the best ways to make them come quick, and then ones to make them last.

There had been several reasons behind his dedication. First of all, he hated being bad at something. Not that he had been bad at first, or at least he didn't think he was, but he didn't want to be just decent, not when it was a skill he could improve.

Second of all, he did love sucking dick. He liked the weight of it in his mouth, the feeling of being full, of having to regulate his breathing to not get dizzy, the salty and sour taste of precum on his tongue. And he liked that even if he was the one on his knees, he still was the one in control. He liked the power that came with giving up power, the feeling of letting a guy fuck his mouth, of allowing them to use him. And he liked getting a little mean with it sometimes, edging them over and over, pulling back just when he knew they were so close, using just the barest hint of teeth.

It was fun, and it was good, and it made him feel great.

But lastly, he had decided that blowjobs would be his best skill in sex because he knew he was...below average in other areas. Namely, in the dick area. Not only below average, but small. Tiny even.

He wasn't ashamed of it, it was just another part of his body he couldn't change, like the color of his eyes or the shape of his nose, but he was aware he couldn't fuck anyone with it.

So, blowjobs.

He had reasoned that if he could blow guys away with his blowing (ah!) skills, then they wouldn't be too disappointed with the little he was packing. And mostly it had worked. He had to throw out a couple guys, had to walk out on a few others, but the overall balance of his sex experiences was definitely skewed towards good.

He didn't really mind if his partners ignored his dick during sex. He liked being fucked, he liked being kissed, his nipples were sensitive, and if needed he could use his own hand to make himself come. It was not a big deal.

Until Daniel.

Max had employed his usual strategy with Daniel. Kiss them silly, then get on his knees and make them come, so that their brain is soup when they finally see his disappointing dick.

Except. Except that Daniel had come, and then had asked to make Max come, and when Max had shrugged and stepped out of his pants, his usual apology and "it's okay, I can make myself come" already on his tongue, Daniel had also dropped to his knees.

He had dropped to his knees and exhaled, something impossible like awe on his face. And then he had made Max come so hard his knees had buckled and he had almost killed them both.

Because, for some unknown reason, Daniel seems to love Max's dick. He tells Max all the time, tries to touch it and get his mouth on it whenever he can. He calls it pretty, and perfect, and makes Max blush all the way down to his chest, squirming on the bed because of it. Sometimes they're sitting on the couch, watching a movie, and Daniel will just stick his hand down Max's pants, gathering his dick and balls in his palm, holding it just to hold it until inevitably Max gets hard and Daniel gets to make him come.

So now Max still sucks Daniel's dick , but it no longer feels like compensation, it's just a skill that both him and Daniel enjoy.

And he's great at it.

#maxiel #my writing #winter warmers 2024 #i have a second fill for this same prompt in the works lets see if i can get it done before i have to the train station #and YES i know im a day late shut up yesterday i was busy (napping)#typos arent real and all that

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tarta-de-limon · 1 day ago

Note

Your depiction of jondami, just Jon and Damian in general is so perfect to me. Like they love each other but absolutely love annoying each other too lol

AAAAH, I'M GLAD! I've read some Jondami/Damijon fics when the moment they're dating Jon turns into a "ohh, I'm so innocent, I don't understand anything :'3" and Damian turns into a : "dw, beloved, I'll protect you🗿"

Not only fanfics but fanarts too

THEY'RE NOTHING LIKE THAT???? SURE, JON IS A CUTIE PATOOTIE BUT HE'S SASSY AS FUCK, HE DOESN'T NEED PROTECTION AND DAMIAN KNOWS THAT??? Sure, he'd still protect him THE SAME WAY JON WILL PROTECT HIM, IT'S MUTUAL.

IF ANYTHING, JON WOULD BE THE MOST PROTECTIVE ONE, C'MON, HE'S INDESTRUCTIBLE AND HIS BOYFRIEND IS NOT, HE CAN SEE THE SCARS AND WOUNDS IN DAMIAN.

And what do you mean they're no longer fighting? C'mon, at least at the beginning there's gotta be fights because Damian just doesn't know how to deal with his emotions and saying them aloud 😭✋ And what about the awkwardness? They're both awkward af because, idk, I feel like going from best friends to dating wouldn't be that smooth for them. Like they're still trying to figure the whole dating thing out.

It's not like it makes me angry tho, although here it seems like it does I JUST GET CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT, GOTTA EXPRESS WHAT I'M FEELING 😭✋

Like sometimes I even find it cute, there's an artist I follow on Instagram, their Jon is very innocent and immature and kind of tantrum like, which I don't think is very close to canon or my perception of the character, but it's cute, yk? Specially the interactions he has with Damian.

I just don't like that for my own art??? Idk if that makes sense. Like, I've read the comics, I know how the character is, and I can't change that, yk? Like my mind already perceives the character like something, and trying to change that something feels kind of odd.

AHHH, I started rambling again. You can see how much I like rambling because this was such a short comment and here I am, writing the bible.

ANYWAYS, thank you so much and I'm glad you like my version of Damijon! Lots of love and have a great day!...or night, or afternoon! 💖💖💖💖‼️‼️‼️‼️💖‼️💖‼️💖‼️💖‼️

#anon ask #damijon #jondami

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maddy-k-reads-all-day · 3 days ago

Text

Amandathon!

Sophie sets up the video camera and hits record. She places the first tape she finds in Riley’s stash into the VCR. Let’s Go To the Library! The tape begins to play.

“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!” Amanda smiles and waves.

“And I’m Wooly!” Wooly beams. They are back to their usual outfits.

“And today we’re having an Amandathon!”

“What’s an Amandathon, Amanda?” Wooly asks, more as if he was playing into the bit.

“It’s a huge marathon of Amanda episodes! Just like we used to do sometimes back in the day!” Amanda beams. Wooly looks over behind her and notices… something.

“Wha- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Wooly shouts. The tape glitches. Amanda gets startled. She looks around quickly, trying to figure out what Wooly is reacting too. Finally she notices. Right behind them reading a book on top of the dumpster.

“You.” Amanda growls. Wooly immediately picks the opossum up by the neck.

“WHY THE HECK ARE YOU HERE?! I THOUGHT WE GOT RID OF YOU!”

“Heh. Now you know how I felt when you came back to life?” Amanda chuckles playfully.

“Shut up Amanda.”

“Excuse me?” Amanda scoffs, appalled to say the least. She shakes her head in disappointment. Wooly does not seem to care. She turns her attention back to the opossum. “So opossum,” she sneers, trying to make herself sound scary and formidable, “how long have you been back?” The opossum glares at Wooly and kicks him in the stomach, forcing him to let go. Amanda holds back a chuckle. He sassily walks back to the dumpster and jumps on top of it. Then he takes out a pencil and writes in the book he was reading.

“Hey isn't that a library book? You're not supposed to write in those!”

“Shut up Wooly.” Amanda says. Wooly shoots her an annoyed look. The opossum holds up their writing. Amanda squints at it. “What does that even say?”

“I think it says the whole time.” Wooly reads, leaning in closer to the book. The opossum spits on Wooly, he backs up immediately and gives the opossum a dirty look.

“That can't be right. If it is, why hasn't he been bothering us anymore?” Amanda questions. The opossum lets out an annoyed sigh and starts writing again. He holds up the book and sticks his tongue out at Wooly. Amanda squints at the book again. “Life is pointless now. Okay, wow. Bleak.” The opossum shrugs, chucks the book at Wooly's face and makes raspberries at him.

“Amanda. Permission to kill him now?”

“No Wooly.”

“Amanda, turn around real quick.”

“I'm not falling for that.” Amanda rolls her eyes. She taps her chin in thought. “Say opossum, why don't you join us for the Amandathon?” The opossum tilts his head in confusion.

“Why would you ever suggest that?!” Wooly snaps, “He took out my eye you know! Among other things.”

“Yeah so? I killed you and I'm still your best friend somehow.”

“Amanda, you're my only friend.” Wooly rolls his eyes.

“Ow. When did you get so mean?” Amanda says dramatically.

“I'm not being mean.” Wooly pouts folding his arms. The opossum shrugs and jumps off the trash bin.

“I’ll take that as a yes! So let’s go to the library!” Amanda beams. The tape glitches to the library. “Wow… it’s all fixed up now huh?”

“Amanda… are you going to be okay coming back here? I mean after last time…”

“It’s fine Wooly.” she lies before turning to the opossum, “Welcome to the Kensdale Public Library buddy!” Wooly rolls his eyes. “You’re a kid right? Let’s take you to the children’s section-tion-tion-tion.” the tape glitches to the kids section.

“Go on, pick out a book you like.” Amanda offers. The opossum takes the smiling flower book and starts eating it. “No opossum! We don’t eat books!” Amanda scolds, fighting the opossum in a game of tug-of-war to get the book out of its mouth. Finally he lets it go, making Amanda fall backwards with a slobbery, half-shredded book in her hands. “Ewww… Well, here’s your book, Wooly.” she says, half-jokingly.

“I am not touching that.” Wooly says, looking like he’s about to throw up. Amanda shrugs and tosses the book aside.

“Keep an eye on him okay?” Amanda mumbles.

“Huh? Why?” Wooly gasps.

“I need some… me-time.” Amanda sighs. She walks off, leaving Wooly and the opossum in the kids section.

“She needs some me-time.” Wooly grumbles to himself mockingly, “Yeah sure just leave me with the- HEY STOP THAT!” the tape glitches back to Amanda. She walks up to the library counter, looking at the owl.

“Did you find everything you need today?” she asks.

“Can you help me find my favorite book?” Amanda questions quietly.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what book that is. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”

“Haha… of course you wouldn’t know.” Amanda chuckles sadly.

“If you give me the title maybe I can find it.”

“I’d like to read The Nightingale.” Amanda says. The owl types the title into the computer.

“I’m sorry. It seems that the book is currently checked out. We have other books. Let’s find something for you togeth-ther-ther-ther.”

“Okay.” Amanda replies. The owl stands up and starts maneuvering around the library. Amanda follows suit.

“We have other titles by that author. Oooh. Look at this-is-is-is-is.” Kate hands Rebecca a- The owl hands Amanda a book. It is a collection of fairy tales by Hans Christain Anderson. Amanda flips through it.

“Wait a second… this is…” there it was. “No way… it was… here the entire time…” tears start welling up in her eyes and she starts to cry.

“Wrong book?” the owl asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“No… No it’s perfect…” Amanda cries, giving the owl a big hug. The owl’s model starts to glitch out.

“Happy to he-he-he-help.” The owl promptly glitches back to the counter. Amanda wipes her tears and returns to the children’s section. Where Wooly and the opossum are… beating each other up.

“Ahem. Have you found a book yet?” Both immediately look up at her in shock. Amanda looks pissed.

“He started it!” Wooly shouts, immediately standing up. The opossum bites his arm. “You little-” he swats the opossum off and back into the wall. She walks up to them and smacks them both upside the head with her book really hard. “Hey!”

“Be quiet in the library.” She says with a calm, chilling sternness.

“Got it.” Wooly responds, nodding frantically. Even the opossum sits in a well behaved manner. Amanda shakes her head in disappointment. They both show a book and all head back toward the desk.

“You know… I used to come here a lot after Kate died… when no one was watching, just to hear her voice again.”

“Amanda…”

“It’s not her… I know it will never really be her… but sometimes I just miss her so much…” Amanda sounds like she’s going to cry again but she takes a really deep breath. Wooly looks at the ground with a guilty expression. They all walk up to the desk. The opossum sticks his tongue out at Wooly. Wooly is clearly annoyed but he chooses to look the other way.

“Did you find everything you need today?” the owl asks.

“Yes, thanks to you.” Amanda smiles gratefully.

“Good! It is due-due-due-due-due-due-due---” the owl’s whole body starts glitching out. Amanda turns to walk away. “Have a nice day Rebecca.” a voice, clearly a recording, plays through the owl’s mouth. Amanda whips around in shock. The owl continues glitching and contorting before breaking down like a robot and laying limp like a dead person.

“Kate… did she… record that for me?” Amanda wonders, frozen in one place. The tape ends. Sophie hits stop on the camera and uploads the file to a harddrive on her computer. I wonder what Riley would have thought… if they heard that. Sophie wonders. She sets the camera back up and puts in the next tape.

“Welcome back! It’s your friend Amanda!” Amanda beams.

“And… you’re pal Wooly!” Wooly says, a little flustered and confused by Amanda’s different opening.

“Today we’re going to the park!” Amanda announces. “Can you tell me where the park is?” Amanda pulls out the map of her neighborhood. It takes Sophie a minute before she realizes.

“Oh you want me to pick? Um… there.” “That’s right!” Amanda beams, closing the map. The tape glitches to the park. “There are so many things to see and do at the park!”

“Like what Amanda?” Wooly asks unenthusiastically.

“Like we can see… different animals.” Amanda pauses remembering their previous conversation. Static starts to cover the tape, but Amanda snaps out of it. “What animals do you see?” Oh she wants me to interact with her on this one. Okay. Well I guess that’s fair. Sophie thinks. She points to the opossum. “Look, it’s our new friend, the opossum!”

“Since when was he our friend?” Wooly grumbles. Amanda’s eye twitches. She pulls Wooly in for a group huddle.

“Wooly I think this opossum might be somewhat like us.” Amanda whispers.

“Like us?! He is clearly nothing like us!” Wooly hisses. “An-And even if he was, we shouldn’t let him hang out with us.”

“Why not?” “Because! He’s always being super rude and messing with us!”

“Maybe he’s just lonely?” Amanda suggests. They look over at the opossum, which is currently choking on a dead bird. Wooly gives her a skeptical look. “Oh come on I’ve seen you eat some pretty weird things.”

“Not dead birds.” Wooly scoffs, folding his arms. “And you are not one to talk.”

“Come on Wooly, just give him a chance.”

“He bit me yesterday!”

“So? It’s not like you can get rabies here.”

“Oh but I think I might.” Wooly says dramatically, pretending he’s going to faint. Amanda smiles and rolls her eyes.

“Wooly you’re fine.” she chuckles. “If you could forgive me, you can forgive anybody.”

“Ye-yeah… I guess that’s true…” Wooly replies nervously, looking away, but it doesn’t sound sincere.

“So let’s give him a chance, alright?”

“Oh alright. Fine.” Wooly smiles weakly.

“Opossum! Opossum!” Amanda calls out, “Wanna go to the playground with us?” She asks. She glances over and notices Sophie looks busy so she pulls out her map and asks the Opossum, “Can you tell me where the playground is.” The opossum takes the map and eats it. Amanda looks pissed.

“Look I told you so.” Wooly says. Amanda glares at them both with annoyance. The tape glitches right to the park. “Let’s play!” she shouts, with anger poorly hidden in her voice. The opossum runs off and slides down the slide on his own. Wooly takes a leisurely ride on the swings. “Um guys… aren’t we going to play together?” But everyone seems to be doing their own thing. “Playgrounds are boring anyway…” she grumbles, “Why does this world always treat us like little kids?” Suddenly the tape glitches out and ends. Sophie looks over in surprise. Amanda seems to be ending these episodes sooner and sooner. I… hope she’s alright. She thinks. Sophie uploads this one to the harddrive and looks at the next tape. When You Get Sick. Should we skip this one? She wonders. But she told Riley she’d record as many as she could, so she puts the tape into the VCR. The tape begins to play.

“Hi friends, I’m Wooly.” Wooly announces. He looks around and giggles a little. “We can’t go on our adventure yet today because Amanda hasn’t woken up yet. Sophie, wanna wake her up with me?”

“Well alright.” Sophie answers. Considering this tape’s title I don’t think that’s a good idea. Wooly goes up to Amanda’s door and knocks.

“Amanda, it's time to get up!” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Go away Wooly, I don't feel good today.”

“Can I come in? Maybe I could help you feel better?” Wooly asks. Amanda doesn’t object so he opens the door. “What’s wrong Amanda? Are you sick?”

“No…” Amanda mumbles. Wait what? Sophie thinks. “I just… I don’t wanna get out of bed today.”

“But… you should at least have breakfast? And what about our adventure?” Wooly questions. Amanda tiredly looks at the camera.

“I don’t wanna go on an adventure today…” she mumbles. “I don’t wanna do anything today.” The tape fades out and falls out of the machine. The title has changed to When You’re Not Okay. Sophie looks at it worriedly. Okay… yeah… she’s definitely not doing well. Sophie thinks. She decides to take a break and have some tea before continuing onto the next tape. Sophie scrolls through her computer and sees all the homework she has to do. She works for a while until it’s around 4pm. I guess I should go back to recording Amanda now… maybe I could multitask? Do some homework while I record? She thinks to herself. She takes her computer downstairs, sets up the camera and puts in the next tape. Let’s Go On a Hike! The tape begins with Amanda and Wooly standing in the woods.

“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!”

“Amanda, are you sure you’re okay to be going on a hike today? You weren’t feeling well just yesterday.” Wooly asks. Amanda shoots him an annoyed look.

“I’m fine now, Wooly.”

“But-”

“And now you spoiled our whole opening!” She scoffs in annoyance, throwing her hands into the air. Wooly looks guilty. “As our friend Wooly said, we are going on a HIKE today!”

“Hikes are very important for the mind and body!” Wooly adds. Amanda glares at him. He looks back at her with confusion.

“Today we’re going to watch the sunset in our originally planned place! Since we um… ended up at the wrong place last time.”

“But Amanda… I don’t like walking in the woods at night…” “Don’t worry about it Wooly, you’ll be fine!” Amanda grins, she seems to be hiding something.

“Amanda, we talked about this!” Wooly groans. Amanda pulls the camera aside away from where Wooly can't hear. With her face this close to the screen, Sophie can clearly see the bags under her bloodshot eyes. Poor kid… looks like she hasn’t had a wink of sleep. Sophie thinks. It also seems like… she’s been crying?

“Psst! Extra Extra! Don’t tell Wooly but I got a little surprise waiting at the top of the mountain! Oooh! It’s gonna be so much fun!” she squeals. Surprise? Sophie thinks, feeling a tad bit concerned. Amanda walks back over to Wooly.

“What were you talking about just now?” Wooly questions.

“Nothing… NOTHING.” She laughs, she walks up to the big hiker's backpack she brought and tries to put it on, but proceeds to fall backwards from its weight.

“I gotcha.” Wooly says, catching her and putting her back on her feet. “How about I carry that?”

“Are you sure?” Amanda says, handing him the backpack. He puts it on and wobbles a little.

“I’m sure.” He grins.

“Well alright! Let’s go on our hike!” Amanda beams. Wooly starts walking. “Wooly hold still, you have our map.” Amanda says, stopping him and rummaging through the backpack for her map. “Which pocket did I put it in again?”

“Why do you have such a big backpack anyway?” Wooly questions.

“Aha! Found it!” Amanda pulls the map out triumphantly. “You see, last time we had problems because we weren’t prepared. So this time I made absolutely sure we have EVERYTHING we need.” she announces proudly.

“But… when did you have time to do all this?”

“Hahahaha! You’re so funny Wooly!” Amanda laughs in a slightly-manic fashion.

“Um what? How was that funny? That- I don’t understand?” Wooly says, completely confused. Suddenly the opossum appears from the bushes. Amanda’s eye twitches. “Hi opossum! Do you wanna go on a hike with us today?” Wooly offers. Amanda whips an appalled glare at him.

“The one day I didn’t- ugh.” Amanda sighs, “Actually opossum, I just want it to be me and Wooly today okay?” The opossum nods and runs off.

“Oh, sorry about that. I thought you were going to invite him-”

“Well I wasn’t. Okay?!” she snaps. She lets out a tired sigh. “Let’s go Wooly.” They walk off into the woods. They reach a fork in the road. Amanda examines the map carefully. “Okay… I think I’m holding it right this time… which means we should go… that way.” She continues finding the different paths until… “Phew! I’m tired. Let’s take a break.” She says. She stops Wooly and pulls out two water bottles from the backpack.

“Oh if I knew you packed those I would’ve asked for one.” Wooly mentions. Amanda hands him one.

“I also have plenty of snacks too!” Amanda says, pulling out a bag of trailmix. “Look, it’s homemade.” Wooly looks kind of concerned, but the two both sit on some rocks and enjoy some snacks and water together. As soon as they're done eating Amanda says: “Alright! Break time is over! Back to walking!”

“Already? I’m still kinda tired.” Wooly complains.

“We don’t want to miss the sunset though, do we Wooly?” Amanda questions. Wooly sighs begrudgingly and stands back up. The tape glitches and they are finally at the peak. There, a full camping area is all set up.

“Surprise, after the sunset we’re going camping tonight!” Amanda eagerly announces. “Ca-camping?!” Wooly gasps, “No! Why didn’t you tell me about this before? We’re camping?!”

“Yeah! Aren’t ya excited Wooly?” “No of course not! We’re camping? In the middle of the woods with no adults? In the woods where we encountered WOLVES earlier? I don’t even have my pjs or my special bunny or my nightcap or anything! What about our nightlights? Wha-What about my nighttime routine?! What if I mess up some secret super sacred camping rule?!”

“You don’t… like it?” Amanda sounds really hurt.

“I do appreciate the thought but… I don’t like surprises Amanda. I wasn’t even given time to mentally prepare for this… I… it’s just a lot-”

“But I stayed up all night… trying to make this hike nice and fun for us. I tried so hard…” she mumbles, hugging her arms and trembling a little.

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine. We still have time before the sunset. I’ll just pack all this up and take it back tomorrow.”

“No no, Amanda we can go camping. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I mean you worked really hard on this. That was insensitive of me…”

“Wooly. It’s fine.”

“But I feel bad.”

“Don’t.” Amanda says in a cold, harsh voice that sends a shiver up Wooly’s spine.

“Um… okay then.” Wooly says nervously. Amanda lets out an annoyed huff and starts packing up the camping stuff. Wooly watches awkwardly for a bit, before coming over and starting to pick the stuff up as well.

“Don’t help me!” Amanda snaps. Wooly flinches. Then he looks a bit mad.

“I want to help you.” he insists forcefully. Amanda looks away and says nothing, but doesn’t stop him. They continue cleaning up the camping stuff in silence for a bit. “You know I do want to go camping with you… just… maybe on a different day and we can plan things out together. You know I have a lot of fun planning adventures with you…”

“Fine.” Amanda pouts, still looking away. Wooly smiles awkwardly. Then he looks over at the sky and his expression immediately changes.

“Um Amanda… is it just me or is it getting cloudy all of a sudden?” he asks. Amanda looks up. Dark clouds form quickly in the sky. Suddenly there is a downpour. “Aw! Now we can’t see the sunset!” Wooly complains. Amanda suddenly screams at the top of her lungs. Wooly covers his ears. A strike of lightning hits a tree in the distance and catches flame. The tape is glitching really badly.

“It feels like this entire world is AGAINST US!” she screams before the tape glitches out and falls out of the machine. It seems like the effects of neglect on this imaginary world are really taking its toll. Sophie thinks worriedly. As soon as Riley gets back… I’m going to have to do another interrogation on Carl. Until then…

She looks for the next tape. Let’s Start the Day!

Riley told me that there were originally two of these tapes with the same name. One with green lettering and the other with red. An Amanda verison and a Wooly version… They also said Wooly was acting really weird in his version. Oh boy. Sophie sighs and puts the tape into the VCR. The tape starts with Wooly dangling off the side of his bed upside down for some reason.

“Um… hi Wooly, you okay there?”

“Ah Sophie hi!” Wooly gasps, suddenly he slips off the bed and hits his head on the floor.

“That looked like it hurt.”

“Heh heh… it didn’t.” Wooly laughs awkwardly.

“You still don’t feel anything?”

“Nope! But let’s not talk about that right now okay? Or ever for that matter.” Wooly pauses for a couple seconds.

“How’s the Amandathon been? I’m not tiring you guys out am I?”

“A little but I’m fine.” Wooly smiles, “But uh… I think Amanda has been acting… kinda off lately?”

“Yeah. I noticed.”

“Oh phew, so it wasn’t just me.” Wooly sighs in relief. “I haven’t seen her act like this since…” a shiver runs up his spine.

“Since Kate first died?”

“Mmmhmm.” he nods. What do I even say in this situation? I don’t even know what’s going on…

“Wait… it’s morning? Riley said last time it was night…” Sophie observed. Let’s just change the subject.

“For now it is, give it a second.” Wooly scoffs. She realizes that the sun keeps going up and down every couple seconds. “Yeah. It’s been like that all day… is it day? I don’t know anymore.”

“Oh boy. Well don’t worry. As soon as Riley gets back I’m going to talk with Carl again to find a solution.”

“I wouldn’t trust him if I were you Sophie.” Wooly says seriously. Believe me I don’t.

“Why not?” Sophie asks. Is there something he did like… specifically?

“He worked for Hameln… and while he may have been nice he also… seemed desperate. Like he’d do anything to survive. He’d sacrifice anyone. I don’t think he’d lie or give you false information. If he says he wants to help… he probably isn’t lying… but the moment it comes at the danger of his life… he’s going to do anything to live. I know it.” Wooly says, curling himself in a cozy little ball. He looks… comfortable. Usually he doesn’t when talking about this stuff. Sophie realizes.

“How do you know that?”

“Well I mean, I saw it first hand… but also… I used to be like that…”

“Really… you don’t seem the type Wooly.”

“What can I say? I’m selfish I guess.” he shrugs.

“You weren’t selfish Wooly, you were just in an awful position that no child should ever be placed in-” “I don’t want to hear it, Sophie.” Wooly sulks, pulling himself in tighter. There it is… he’s closing himself off again.

“Well alright… did you sleep well?” “Surprisingly, yes.” Wooly says, “I mean… I think. The clock is also not working.” he points out, the clock numbers are flipping all over the place.

“I see… so… why are you just hanging around in your room?”

“I can’t decide if it’s morning or not yet… like should I go back to sleep or wake up? I’m not exactly sure… hmmm…”

“What about Amanda?”

“Oh she’s definitely sleeping. Or at least… she hasn’t left her room yet and um… I don’t know, she’s been in a mood lately that I don’t want to get testy with you know?”

“That makes sense.”

“Anyway… that doesn’t mean you can’t make breakfast yourself right?”

“I suppose you're right… I am getting hungry.” Wooly says. The tape glitches to the living room. “Um hmm… this wasn’t where I was trying to go…” the tape glitches again to the bathroom. “Heh heh… whoops. Usually it just goes-” the tape glitches to the card section of the store. “Amanda must be playing some sort of prank on me right now.” the tape glitches to Amanda’s room. Wooly notices immediately she’s still asleep. He quietly tiptoes out. “Okay… so it’s not Amanda… and it’s not me… what is going on?” he wonders, tapping his chin. The tape glitches to outside. It’s still raining. Wooly looks extremely annoyed. He carefully walks into the kitchen. “I… um… wow… I hate this.” Amanda glitches onto the counter.

“Wah! Cold- Oh. Hi Wooly, why are you soaking wet?” she questions.

“Just go back to bed. I’ll make us breakfast.” Wooly sighs.

“Um… okay?” she slowly climbs off the counter, “Weird.” She walks out of the kitchen. Wooly grabs some bread out of the now lowered cabinet.

“Look at me, I don’t need your help anymore!” Wooly giggles proudly.

“Aw Wooly…” Sophie says sadly.

“Wha- Don’t feel bad! I… I can find something for you to do um um!” Wooly looks around in a panic.

“Look Wooly, if you don’t need me I can go.” Sophie teases.

“NO!” Wooly shouts. Sophie flinches. Wooly starts breathing heavily, like he’s about to have a panic attack. Oh yeah… I forgot that both of them are one word away from a mental breakdown at all times.

“Wooly, Wooly buddy it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Sophie says softly. How did Riley manage these two all this time? Wooly takes a deep breath and puts the toast into the toaster. He walks over to the fridge. “Now I don’t like bacon, but Amanda is obsessed with it. So I gotta make her some.”

“You can cook bacon?” Sophie asks. Wooly stops and looks down at the floor.

“Can I cook bacon?” he asks himself. He stands there kinda paralyzed.

“Did you tell Amanda you’d make her bacon without actually knowing how to make bacon?” Sophie asks. Wooly nods. Oh boy. Sophie thinks.

“I should watch the toast and make sure it doesn’t burn again.” Wooly says. Again?! Amanda, why are you letting him cook?! “Oh don’t worry I was half-asleep last time.”

“Wait Wooly, do you even know how to make bacon?” Amanda asks, walking in while rubbing her eyes groggily.

“Amandaaaa…” Wooly whimpers.

“Ban him from the kitchen.” Sophie says.

“EXCUSE ME?!” Wooly snaps. Amanda bursts out laughing.

“Don’t worry Sophie, Wooly’s actually pretty good at cooking. Except he seems to be terrible at breakfast for some reason.” Amanda explains.

“That’s because you make breakfast this whole thing. Why can’t we just eat cereal or oatmeal?”

“Wooly, Wooly, Wooly, breakfast is one of the few pleasures I get in this world.” Amanda says in a refined and elegant tone. Suddenly the tape glitches them both outside. It’s still raining. “GRAAH! THAT’S IT!” Wooly screams, storming back inside. “I DON’T EVEN WANT BREAKFAST ANYMORE!” Amanda can hear a door slamming all the way from down stairs. Is it just me or are their mental states far worse than before? Sophie observes.

“Um… Wow… okay…” Amanda mumbles, walking back inside. She glitches to Wooly’s doorway. “Hey um… can I come in?”

“I guess so.” Wooly pouts. Amanda opens the door and sees Wooly sitting on the floor still completely soaking wet.

“Come on Wooly let’s dry off and eat breakfast together, alright?”

“Fiiiiiine.” Wooly groans. The tape ends. Riley told me to be careful around the next tape since Wooly had a bit of a freakout and Riley got hurt. I haven’t seen the demons yet but I feel like I’m treading a thin wire with that. She lets out a deep sigh and pulls out the next tape. Our New Friend. She starts the video on the camera and puts the tape into the VCR, it immediately starts to play.

“Hi again, I’m Amanda.” Amanda smiles and waves.

“And I’m Wooly!” Wooly beams.

“And today we have a letter from a friend at home-” “Amanda… can we not do this episode?” Wooly questions.

“Yeah I’m getting really tired of all of this…” Amanda sighs. “Hey Sophie? Do we have to record ALL of the tapes?”

“I guess not…” Sophie replies.

“Then why don’t we just skip to the shopping tape and be done with it?” Amanda groans.

“Well… okay then…” Sophie says. Well okay then… Thank god for that. She thinks. She looks for the shopping tape in the massive pile of tapes. Maybe we should get a shelf for all these. Let’s Go Shopping… this should be the one. Honestly I’m getting a bit tired of this myself. Sophie restarts the video and puts the new tape into the VCR.

“Hi friends, it’s me, Amanda!” Amanda beams with a friendly little wave.

“And me, Wooly!” Wooly grins.

“And today we’re going grocery shopping!”

“Yaaaay!” Wooly says enthusiastically.

“That’s the spirit, Wooly!”

“Are we going to bring up the tax fraud thing again?” Wooly asks excitedly, bouncing up and down a little.

“You’ve become such a troublemaker Wooly!” Amanda teases.

“I- I have not!” Wooly gasps glancing at Sophie quickly.

“Sure Wooly, let’s go shopping!” Amanda says. The tape glitches and fades out. Tax fraud thing? Wait no I kind of want to hear about that… Sophie thinks to herself.

“First things first, we have to go back to… the butcher…” Amanda groans.

“We don’t have to.” Wooly reminds her.

“We’re out of meat Wooly.”

“We don’t need it.”

“Maybe but I still want it.” “Then I’m staying out here.” Wooly concludes, folding his arms and planting his feet on the ground firmly, turning his back to Amanda completely. Amanda looks kind of scared.

“C’mon Wooly, you’re not really going to make me go in there alone are you?”

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Wooly… please?” Amanda pleads. Wooly glances at her puppy-dog eyes and…

“That doesn’t work on me anymore, you know that.” Wooly sighs.

“Bu-but!”

“I’m not going in there. Last time you nearly broke my hand!”

“We can take you to the doctor.”

“How about you just don’t break my bones?!” Wooly snaps. “Forget this, I'm going to the store.”

“What? Why!” “I. Need. Peanut. Butter.”

“Huh?”

“You used up all my peanut butter and now I have NOTHING for lunch!” Wooly explains throwing his hands up in the air. “Honestly, I’m kind of done with this whole Amandathon thing so I think I’m just going to get my peanut butter and go home.”

“You’ve been moody… this whole Amandathon… over a freaking PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH?!” Amanda shouts, clearly angry.

“Moody? Have I been moody? Sorry I didn’t mean to be-” Wooly’s eyes widen in realization, “Wait a minute no I haven’t! If anyone has been weirdly moody this whole Amandathon it’s you.”

“What?! I have NOT!”

“Have to!”

“Have not!”

“Have to!”

“HAVE NOT!”

“HAVE TO!”

“SHUT UP!” Amanda screams. Wooly flinches.

“I won’t shut up! You always do this! Every time something is going on with you, you just get really touchy and refuse to talk to anyone about it and it really pisses me off!”

“You don’t listen anyway!”

“How can I listen if you don’t even talk!” Wooly snaps.

“You wouldn’t understand!”

“Why are you just assuming that when you haven’t even told me what’s wrong?”

“You wanna know what’s wrong? YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT’S WRONG?!”

“YEAH THAT’S WHY I’M ASKING YOU IDIOT!” Wooly screams. Amanda flinches. Wooly freezes. The tape glitches. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell…”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Amanda asks.

“Kind of? Sometimes?” Wooly covers his mouth. “Oops-” Amanda doesn’t even look angry anymore. She mumbles something really quietly. “What was that?” he lifts his ear up.

“I… I can’t feel it anymore either…” Amanda whimpers. Wooly freezes.

“Oh.” Wooly responds awkwardly. “Why… did you think I wouldn’t understand that?”

“It’s not just that.” Amanda says quietly, sitting down on the curb and burying her face in her hands. Wooly sits down beside her. “It just… hit me…”

“What hit you? Huh?” he replies, completely confused, “You lost me.”

“It just hit me that… we’re never getting out of here Wooly…”

“Oh yeah… that…”

“You knew all along didn’t you?” Amanda pouts, refusing to even look at him.

“I… yeah…”

“That’s exactly what you wanted isn’t it?”

“Maybe? Ye-yeah? Yeah…” Wooly finally admits. “But… I don’t exactly feel good about it… I… I wanted you to get out of here. I… I was going to do anything… for you to get out of here… but I… I guess in the end it doesn’t matter what I was willing to do, does it?” Wooly chuckles sadly. “I guess I’m an idiot too.”

“We’re not idiots… we’re just kids… and now that’s all we’ll ever be.”

“Don’t… don’t say it like that… you’re gonna make me cry…” Amanda looks at him, clearly already crying. “Stop it. I’m not going to the butchers with you, this won’t work on me.” he tries to chuckle a little, but his voice cracks. Amanda gives him a big hug, burying her face in Wooly’s wool. “Amanda come on… stop crying, you’re getting snot in my wool.”

“Not any more than you are.” Amanda teases but then she starts crying harder, “We’re really stuck like this… and we’re never getting out of here… we’re never getting out… we’re never…”

“Amanda stop it… you’re breaking my heart…” Wooly whimpers.

“Join the club you silly sheep.” Amanda giggles sadly. Just then, they notice the opossum walking by sipping a smoothie giving them a very weird look. “Come on opossum, join the snot hug!” Amanda offers. The opossum looks back and forth at both of them with a mix of disgust and confusion.

“I swear to Hameln if you join in the snot hug I will kill you.” Wooly grumbles, giving the opossum a death glare.

“Don’t be like that Wooly.”

“He’s ruining the moment!”

“Forget the moment, Wooly, I’m feeling better now. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime Amanda, anytime.” Wooly smiles. Amanda stands up and reaches out her hand to help Wooly up. He looks down and realizes he actually is covered in snot. “Can we just get this over with so I can go home and have a bubble bath?”

“Yeah but this time we’re getting you your own bottle of bubble bath.” Amanda replies.

“Fine by me.” Wooly smiles.

“Can you tell us where the store is?” Amanda asks. Sophie clicks on the store. Suddenly all the stores turn into the meatman’s place. “WHAT THIS AGAIN?!”

“Why does this only happen when I decide we should go off-script?!” Wooly shouts. The opossum looks terrified and scampers behind Amanda and Wooly for protection.

“Wait… this only happens to you but what about that time we sent the… Wooly you didn’t!”

“Can we stop about about me being an absolute moron in the past and handle the situation in front of us!” Wooly snaps, clearly way more stressed out then Amanda.

“Okay okay. If we just go into the butchers and get the meat it’ll be fine!”

“Why does he want us to eat meat so badly?!” Wooly shouts.

“I don’t know, I never thought about it to be honest! Let’s just go in and get this over with!” Amanda announces. But the opossum clings to her and shakes his head frantically. “Wait, why are you afraid of the butcher?” The opossum frantically starts playing charades pointing to the butchers and then making a neck cutting motion with his finger. “Wait… so let me make this clear. You watched Amanda the Adventurer right?” Amanda asks. The opossum nods. “And you got trapped in the tapes right?” he nods again. “And you’re saying that the meatman… butchers the people who get stuck in the tapes?” he nods once more.

"That's a bit of a leap in logic isn't it... wait... that means-" Wooly turns pale.

“Oh… oh my god… what the f***.” This time, neither Wooly nor Sophie calls her out for her language. “How did I not realize this before? Haha… oh my god… that means… oh my g-”

“Amanda, you don’t need to feel guilty about this… Hameln’s at fault not you.” Wooly tells her in a weak voice.

“Wooly… you don’t get it…”

“Please stop assuming I don’t get things… just explain it.”

“Wooly… when we eat meat we’re-” “Okay please stop explaining. I think I get the point.” Wooly says, looking completely grossed out and disturbed.

“What do we do? Wooly? Opossum? What do we do?” Amanda asks desperately, looking back and forth at both of them. Wooly stops and ponders, Amanda and the opossum do to. There is a period of silence while the tape just sits there, glitching. The music is distorted and the tape grows fuzzy.

“I think I have an idea…” Amanda says, breaking the silence. The two quickly whip their heads in her direction. “Why don’t we just kill the meatman?” There is a bit of stunned silence.

“Kill… the meatman?” Wooly repeats. Amanda nods. “Kill the meatman? Are you crazy? We can’t kill the meatman? Can we? And what if he comes back? And what will it do to this world?”

“What do we have to lose? It’s not like we can die! Besides you came back because you’re a main character, a fan-favorite. This world can’t exist without you just as much as me!” Amanda explains, waving her finger in Wooly’s face. The animation became so smooth all of the sudden. Sophie notices.

“Fan… favorite?”

“I mean, no one likes the butcher right?” Amanda laughs nervously, “Once we beat him, there will be no problems in this world. You know what? I like this plan! Do you like the plan, opossum?” Amanda asks. The opossum nods its head. “Come on what do you say Wooly? It could be fun.”

“I don’t know…” Wooly says, the tape starts to glitch again. Hmm… maybe… Sophie thinks.

“I think you should.” Sophie says.

“Huh? Really?” Wooly gasps.

“Worth a shot.” she shrugs.

“You with me Wooly?” Amanda grins.

“I…” Wooly pauses then a determined smile crosses his face, “Always.” the animation quality suddenly returns.

“Oh boy what a way to end the Amandathon right guys? I’m getting all excited!” Amanda beams. She turns around and realizes that Wooly’s legs are shaking like a baby fawn. The opossum also looks frozen in place. “Let’s go.” Amanda demands, taking them both by the arms and dragging them inside. They enter the butcher shop. Amanda also seems a bit weak in the knees all the sudden. “On second thought… why don’t we just tell the meatman what we need?” she says weakly.

“Amanda…” Wooly says in the most disappointed tone of voice anyone has ever heard.

“What kind of meat do we need from the meatman?” Amanda asks, giving Sophie a wink. Oh. Sophie types in meatman. “That’s right! We’re having meatman for dinner tonight!”

“So we really are just doing this then?” Wooly laughs nervously. “Okay then.”

The meatman, however, did not take kindly to Amanda’s threat and immediately raised his blade at them. “Um Amanda do we have a plan?”

“Nope, not really.” Amanda shrugs. Amanda jumps up on the counter the meatman slams the blade down onto the cutting board "Just gonna take this.” Before the meatman can lift the knife again Amanda swipes it and slams it into the meatman’s head. Blood splatters everywhere. The meatman stops moving. She jumps off the counter. “Wow! That was so easy.” Amanda says clapping her hands together. "Why didn't we just do that sooner?" she laughs. She turns to Wooly and the opossum. “So why don’t we head to the store now?” The meatman takes the blade out of its head and lifts it above Amanda’s head.

“Amanda, look out!” Wooly shouts, he quickly jumps in front of her and catches the blade in his hand.

“Wooly you’re bleeding!”

“I know right? I feel like this would usually really hurt huh?” Wooly laughs, the blade cuts right through his hands. Amanda pulls him back.

“Oh my goodness are you okay? Of course you’re not okay… haha WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Amanda screams, shaking him.

“My hand was gonna end up broken today one way or another.” Wooly chuckles. Amanda notices the opossum climbing up the meatman and biting viciously at his head. The meatman quickly takes him and slams him against the wall.

“What’s going on?” Riley asks, coming through the door.

“Amanda, Wooly, and the opossum are fighting the meatman to the death.” Sophie explains.

“Why does the interesting stuff only happen when I’m gone.” Riley sighs. The meatman looms over the three of them, raising its blade over their heads.

“I can’t look!” Wooly whimpers, turning away and closing his eyes.

“You are not going to hurt my friends!” Amanda screams, her demonic eyes popping out. Riley turns around and notices both demons behind them. Sophie is about to scream but Riley puts their hand over her mouth.

“It’s okay… just lend them a bit of your power… please?” Riley pleads. They turn back to the screen. Wooly starts transforming too.

“Just... give us… five minutes… okay?” Wooly says, as if he’s trying to calm them down. The tape falls out of the machine.

“Wait no!” Sophie cries, lunging towards it and catching it in her hands. “But…”

“I wonder if the show’s censors would react badly to all the blood?” Riley wonders. “Or maybe Amanda and Wooly don’t want us to watch them in those forms? Or something?”

“Still… what if they lose?”

“They won’t. It’s Amanda and Wooly we’re talking about.” Riley says. So they chose to wait. It was the longest, most awkward five minutes of their lives. (Sitting in silence with the demons). Amanda’s was sleeping with it's head on Riley's lap, in fact Riley was surprised that it let them pet it.

“It’s like a giant cat.” Riley whispers. “When it’s not trying to kill you…” Finally they decided to put the tape back into the VCR. When they did the whole room was covered in blood and Amanda and Wooly were panting in exhaustion. I guess the whole blood censorship theory was wrong. Riley deduces.

“You think we did it?” Wooly asks.

“I don’t think he can get any deader than that…”

“I can’t believe we did that…”

“I know. You were feral, Wooly.”

“Don’t ever say that again.” Wooly grumbles. “I guess I just had a lot of pent up rage to let out.”

“Maybe we should buy a punching bag then…”

“Maybe…”

“We should probably go home and get cleaned up before we finish shopping huh?”

“Yeah… I feel like if I see any more blood today I’m gonna faint.”

“Wooly I think that’s from the blood loss… hmm… I guess we should get you stitched up huh?” as Amanda says this, Sophie notices the pair are in rough shape… but the tape stopped glitching for some reason. “You too opossum. Thanks for your help today.” Amanda adds. The tape pans in the opossum laying in the corner like he’s playing dead, giving Amanda a weak thumbs up.

“I don’t wanna go to the hospital…” Wooly groans. Amanda rolls her eyes. The tape changes to their bathroom. Wooly and the opossum are sitting in the tub while Amanda is sorting through the first aid kit. The tape changes again and Amanda is now in a different outfit, tossing her bloodied clothes into the hamper. The world seems brighter and the animation is much smoother than it’s ever been. The tape changes again to Amanda wrapping Wooly’s hand up in bandages while Wooly sits on the toilet with the cover down.

“I don’t know what possessed you to catch that knife with your bare hands, but don’t do anything that stupid again you scared the s*** out of me!”

“But it was cool right?” Wooly asks, sounding almost drunk.

“Sure… it was cool Wooly. Just don’t do it again.”

“Don’t go being about to get chopped in half again and I won’t.” he replies, swaying a little.

“I don’t plan on it.” Amanda sighs. She helps Wooly off the toilet. “Are you okay to stand?”

“I’m fiiiiine!” he laughs before immediately slipping in water and falling on his face. He then just lay there laughing for a bit.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him honestly.” Amanda says, looking directly at the screen. She helps Wooly up. “Maybe we should just skip shopping?” she suggests.

“Noooo… I’m fine!” Wooly pouts. He does not look fine. Riley walks up and smacks the TV. Wooly shakes his head really hard and blinks a couple times. “What was I doing again?”

“Wooly, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Why?” Wooly answers, sounding completely normal now.

“How did that work?”

“So are we going shopping or…” “I am so confused… but uh… yeah shopping!” the tape changes to outside again with all the stores lined up. The butcher’s is noticeably missing. “Can you tell me where the store is?” Amanda asks. Riley clicks on it. “That’s right!” they enter the store. “Okay so on our list we need peaches, apples, bread-” “Peanut butter.”

“Yes Wooly, peanut butter. Bubble bath…” “What about two-in-one peanut butter and bubble bath?” Riley jokes.

“What?” Amanda looks at them with complete confusion.

“No.” Wooly says in a deadpan tone.

“It’s hysterical.” Riley laughs, elbowing Amanda’s unamused demon.

“You have guts I’ll give you that.” Sophie sighs.

“Can you get us all the items on our list?” Amanda asks. Sophie pushes Riley out of the way and clicks on everything. Peaches, apples, bread, peanut butter, bubble bath.

“We also should get some more peach jam while we’re here.”

“You and your peach jam.” Amanda rolls her eyes. Sophie clicks on the peach jam.

“Do we need anything else today?”

“Not from here.” Amanda shrugs, pulling out her list. “We need eggs from the farm for breakfast… you still eat eggs right Wooly?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. So eggs… hmm… maybe we can get some bacon from the farmer…”

“Have you learned NOTHING?” Wooly snaps.

“Guess not huh? So… no more meat from now on… guess that’s fine… then I think eggs are the last thing on our list for the day.”

“The last thing on the list for my day is a glass of warm milk and SLEEP.” Wooly groans leaning over backwards dramatically.

“Milk! I almost forgot. I think we can get some at the farm too, right?” Amanda asks.

“I don’t caaaare let’s just get this over with.”

“Why are you so bored all of the sudden?” Amanda’s eyes widen in realization. “Wait… is this because we got your peanut butter? Now you have no interest in this trip?” Wooly looks away and doesn’t answer. Amanda looks at him with annoyance. She grabs his arm and drags him to the farm.

“Let’s tell the Scarecrow what we need!” Amanda announces. The tape pans to the motionless smiling scarecrow farmer once again. Wait… how did the farmer shear Wooly anyway? Sophie wonders then decides it’s best not to overthink a kids show, regardless of its origins. Riley types in wool.

“We already have plenty of that from the last episode.” Wooly pouts. “I’m only back to normal since you're rewatching old episodes!” I don’t get how that works but okay. Sophie thinks.

“What are you even talking about? What happened?” Riley asks.

“Wooly got sheared.” Amanda answers.

“Oh ho ho! I need to hear more about this.”

“Quit teasing them!” Sophie scolds.

“No you don’t! Just answer the dang question!” Wooly shouts, seeming kind of bashful about the whole thing. Riley rolls their eyes and types in eggs. The scarecrow no-clips off screen and then just appears back in with eggs. Amanda grins, wildly amused by this.

“I much prefer the Scarecrow to the butcher.” she giggles. “What else do we need?” Riley types in milk. “We need regular milk and kitten milk please.” Amanda says. Suddenly the Scarecrow starts making noise like one of the adults in the Peanuts holiday specials. “No you cannot have your cat back. She’s mine and I love her. Though…” she glares at the tv, “none of you have given me name ideas for her yet!”

“How did you understand that?” Wooly asks, thoroughly confused. The Scarecrow sheds a tear and disappears once again, returning with some milk and kitten milk.

“Can we get some more cat food too please?” Amanda asks. The Scarecrow disappears and reappears again. “Thank you! Have a great day!” the tape changes back to home. Where Amanda realizes the opossum is trying to eat the kitten. She separates them immediately.

“Bad opossum bad! This kitten is not food!” Amanda scolds holding the opossum at arms length in one arm and the kitten close to her chest in the other. The opossum hisses at her and she gives him a death glare. He shuts up. She drops him on the floor and he scampers behind Wooly.

“I don’t know what you're expecting from me. I still want you dead.” Wooly admits in the most flat, emotionless voice ever. The opossum slowly backs away.

“My poor baby? Did he hurt you? Oh he must’ve frightened you so much! He’s a bad bad bad opossum! Don’t worry! I will never ever ever let that terrible creature anywhere or any other dangers bring harm to a hair on your little head you understand me? You are mama’s little girl. Yes you are. Yes you are. My precious little baby.” Amanda says in a babyish voice, coddling the cat to bits with kisses and snuggles.

“She didn’t react that way when the opossum attacked me earlier.” Wooly scoffed. The kitten hisses and scratches Amanda’s face before kicking away and jumping to the floor. She isn’t even phased. She doesn’t even look mad. She turns to Wooly and smirks.

“Oh Wooly… are you jealous?” Amanda asks.

“Not… particularly.”

“Oh poor Wooly! Feeling all left out cause Amanda isn’t paying attention to him.” Amanda continues the baby voice routine. “Okay stop that.”

“Don’t worry Wooly, I can protect you too! You’re my very precious special best friend after all.”

“This is weird. You know this is weird.” Wooly says, looking incredibly disturbed. Amanda gives him a big hug. “Get off me. I’m not your cat.” “Of course not! You’re my favorite sheep!”

“That’s it.” Wooly grumbles shoving Amanda off him. She immediately bursts out laughing.

“Oh my gosh teasing you is the best Wooly!”

“Yeah whatever… I’m gonna go… do something.”

“Yeah like what?”

“I don’t know… I don’t care… all I know is that bedtime can’t come soon enough…” Wooly groans, going to walk off.

“You know, you’ve been a really great friend lately, Wooly…”

“Where is this coming from?” Wooly asks, completely caught off guard.

“I was struggling and feeling really bad and you were there for me this time.”

“Yeah?”

“So thank you Wooly.”

“You’re… welcome? I guess?” Wooly replies, sounding completely confused. Amanda smiles at him.

“Before you go, wanna… close out the Amandathon with me?”

“Sure…”

“Well everyone that’s it for the Amandathon! Thanks for tuning in! Catch your pal Amanda…” “And you’re best friend Wooly next time on Hameln Jr!”

“Oh man. That was nostalgic.”

“You can say that again.”

“Oh man. That was nostalgic.”

“I didn’t mean that literally.”

“I know. That should be enough material for old tapes right guys?” Amanda asks.

“Yep.”

“Okay then! Thanks for playing with us!” Amanda grins.

“See you next time!” Wooly beams. The tape falls out of the VCR.

Authors Note: Okay so from now on these tapes are gonna have very little continuity. I might keep the fantape lore in some of them because it's so fun but yeah... I have no idea how the Amanda series is gonna end and thus have no idea how to end this fic series. So from now on it's going to be the silly adventures of Amanda and Wooly! This will probably be the longest fic of the series, so I hope you enjoy. PLEASE LET ME KNOW THINGS YOU NOTICED AND YOUR FAV PARTS IN THE COMMENTS! THANKS TO ALL WHO ENJOYED THIS SERIES THUS FAR. I'll still prolly write some fics here and there... just... for funsies. Ya know?

BTW WHAT ARE WE NAMING THE CAT I STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN SUGGESTIONS!

Anywho have a nice day and a lovely holidays if you celebrate any!

#amanda the adventurer #amanda the adventurer 2 #maddykpost #wooly the sheep #ata 2 #amanda the adventurer wooly #fanfic #fanfiction #maddykwrites

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