#i only was on a plane when i was like a little kid and so i barely remember it

[qwordavoider]

Some 8x16 coda/future ep spec based on things we’ve seen and heard from the cast. There are some spoilers from 8x16 later on, so tw: mcd

———

Maddie turned back to her station and answered the incoming call.

“911, what’s you’re emergency?”

“Help, I’m trapped,” the voice said on the other end of the line. It sounded vaguely familiar.

“Ok can you tell me where you’re trapped?”

“It’s small and dark. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay we’ll figure it out. Can you tell me your name sir?”

“Bobby. Bobby Nash.”

Maddie gasped.

Bobby continued, “I’m underground, maybe? I smell dirt.”

“Ok we’re going to get you some help Bobby, just hang on for me.”

“Maddie, can’t breathe.”

Gasping sounds came from the other end of the line. Tears streamed down Maddie’s face.

“Try to calm your breathing. Preserve your oxygen.”

“No time, tell Buck I love him. Tell him he’s going to be okay”

Buck sat straight up with a gasp clawing at his chest. His sheets, tangled and soaked with his sweat, were clinging to his body and making his skin crawl. Buck threw them off and was putting on clothes before he even knew what he was doing. He grabbed his keys, got in his car and drove. No destination in mind.

He was pulling into a neighborhood when his breaths started coming in quick panicky pants. Too overwhelmed to focus on driving, he pulled into a driveway.

Buck pressed his palm into his sternum hoping to ground himself from the panic. He took a few breaths before he was able to see straight again. It was then that he realized where he was.

He stepped out of the car, bracing himself on the hood for a minute to steady his legs. Once Buck was sure they wouldn’t collapse under his weight, he made his way to the front door. He hesitated briefly before raising a hand to the door and knocking. Buck’s realizing that it’s the middle of the night and there’s no guarantee of an answer. But he can’t go back to sleep with the image of Bobby buried in the dirt, struggling to breath. Saying those damn words.

He knocked a little harder this time, still to no answer. He was about ready to give up and head home when a light came on inside. Buck let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He heard the dead bolt unlatch before the light of the door opening caused him to squint.

“Evan?”

His voice was slightly hoarse from the sleep Buck no doubt interrupted. But he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty.

He had been leaving the funeral, Bobby loaded on a plane so he could go home and be laid to rest with his family. Buck wasn’t needed anymore. Maddie and Chim were leaning on each other. Hen had Karen to support her. Athena had her kids in Minnesota with her. But Ravi and Eddie invited him to go out for a few drinks in Bobby’s honor. So he would go and humor them for the perfectly acceptable amount of time before finding an excuse to leave.

He was a few steps behind them when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Tommy’s hand.

“Evan, I-”

“You don’t have to-”

“But I want to. I know we’re not us right now, but if you need anything, day or night, I’ll be here.”

Buck hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to accept it then, but it’s like his body knew this is where he needed to be tonight.

He was fidgeting a lot. But he still had some anxiety left over from the nightmare that sent him running here.

“Evan?” Tommy asked again, “Are you okay?”

The tears started flowing before Buck even comprehended Tommy’s question. His knees decided to stop working in that moment and he was falling. Luckily Tommy was there to catch before he could hit the ground.

He was sobbing, unable to stop the emotions that had been building for the last couple of weeks. Buck clung to the only man who could potentially bring him comfort tonight.

“It’s okay Evan. Let it out. I’m here,” Tommy soothed while rubbing circles along Buck’s back.

When the sobs slowed down, Tommy guided Buck inside and settled them on the couch.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want something to distract you?” Tommy asked.

“I’m so tired,” Buck replied not really answering either question.

“We can go to my room and watch a movie until you fall asleep?” Tommy offered.

And that sounded like the best idea Buck had ever heard. He nodded and let Tommy lead him back to his bed. Buck quickly nestled himself into Tommy’s side while the other man looked for a movie to watch. Buck didn’t even notice what he chose nor pay any attention to it after. All he could focus on was the feeling of Tommy’s arms around him and the familiar scent of the man he loved.

After who knows how long, Buck finally got the courage to croak, “Tommy I-”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know but I want to. Thank you for this. For everything. I- We should talk,” Buck kept his eyes focused on the piece of fuzz on Tommy’s shirt directly in front of his eyes.

“We will. But in the morning. Right now, we both need sleep.”

Buck nodded against his chest and he felt like he could breathe just a little bit easier than he had been since Bobby’s death. Sleep finally claimed him as he snuggled closer to Tommy’s chest.

[destinygoldenstar]

🌟I Hate Ally Now🌟 - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 3 Episode 15 “Weight Off Your Shoulders”

Okay, so last episode was... yeah.

And I really appreciate the support since that. Cause, idk, most of you thought I was having a heart attack from all the TikTok or something.

No. I'm fine.

Sorry I ignored the warnings though.

Here's the thing though. Since I started watching the show, not hearing any names, I heard the general consensus being that the Final 6-7 of All Stars was a horrible one, and one of the worst Final 6's in the entire show, Total Drama included.

NOT TRUE.

At least in my opinion. I DO NOT AGREE WITH THIS.

Riya and Jake are my two favorite characters in not only the season, but of the whole show. That has not changed at all. They're awesome. They make the season for me.

Even though Grett was a bit flanderized, she's still really likeable. I still like her. She's also winning be back over slowly.

And Aiden, Alec, and Connor, I like them. I like all three of these guys much more than in their original seasons, actually. Not my favorites, but I still like them and find them interesting.

So no, the problem is NOT that 'everyone in this final group is terrible'.

The problem is that there's ONE character in it that is so horribly written and horrendously unlikeable and inconsistent that she is single handedly dragging everything down.

When she's NOT on screen, I'm actually having a really good time.

When she's on screen, my heart drops and I groan, and I'm just waiting to cut away from her so we can get back to actually good characters.

"Oh really Golden? You think it's fair to blame only ONE character?"

YES. IN THIS INSTANCE.

Disagree with me, that's fine. But that is my stance right now.

Sorry to the Ally stans, but uh... I'm not sorry for my opinion.

And I guarantee you that this episode will NOT be as bad as the last one. So I'm gonna prove that right now.

"Ally, realizing she needs to play a little dirty,"

By little, you mean A TRUCKLOAD OF DIRT?!??!

"Oh yeah, and Connor cried."

XD

THE LACK OF CARE.

That was the one of only two good things about last episode. That, and Grett and Gabby being wholesome together.

#JUSTICEFORGABBY

HASHTAG JUSTICE FOR OLIVER GETTING SHOVED OUT OF A PLANE.

*Gets Robin Retirement Ad*

WHY IS THE EPISODE TELLING ME TO RETIRE?!?!?

OH GODDAMMIT WE'RE STARTING WITH ALLYSON!!!!

Maybe that's why they're telling me to retire XD

I have given this woman so many chances. I am not one to jump to conclusions about a character. I'm one to give the benefit of the doubt first. Which I have done this whole time.

And I'm doing it again. APOLOGIZE FOR THE BEAR.

Or at least show an OUNCE of remorse for it.

"Pilates! You guys want to join?"

THAT'S YOGA.

THAT'S THE TRIANGLE POSE.

I've played Wii Fit to know that.

GET IT RIGHT.

Also "HEY DUDE WHO I LEFT FOR DEAD AND HAVE EXPRESSED MULTIPLE TIMES THAT I LOATHE YOUR GUTS, WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO YOGA WITH ME???" 😄

THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS.

"Back home, I'm always in front of a monitor. Can't believe I've spent a month... literally touching grass!"

That's both depressingly real and really concerning.

How do you know yoga then?

Do you also know the Wii??

Doesn't change my opinion on you, but that'd be pretty based.

"Uh, no thanks. Aiden and I just went for a stroll."

Wow, he's actually being nice about it.

The improvement is off the charts.

"Poor guy."

"Wow, where was this empathy when you left me for bear food?"

Okay, thank you. Bringing that up.

Cause that was beyond fucked up.

"Can this not be about you for once?"

*FLABBERGASTED*

WHAT THE FUCK, LADY?!?!?!

"I don't like that you LEFT ME TO DIE."😠

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SUCH A SELFISH BRAT!!" 🙄

LIKE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?

THAT'S THE WORST RESPONSE YOU COULD'VE GIVEN!

EVEN A SHIT EXCUSE WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER!

"I was getting help!" or "I wasn't thinking straight!" or "I'M SORRY."

EVEN IF IT WOULD BE INSINCERE, IT'S BETTER THAN THIS.

"Yeah Jake, getting left for dead is YOUR FAULT. And you're SELFISH for being upset that I did that to you!"

Asshole. Actual asshole.

AND YOU WONDER WHY NO ONE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH YOU?!

Riya has more remorse for her actions than you do.

"With Jake and Ally not getting along and Connor being in the state he is, it might be time to look out for myself."

It's almost like you shouldn't have come out about the kiss.

Hey Riya, thank god, I need to be away from the other girl.

What are you doing to that coconut?

"For my next showing, I will SLICE the coconuts of the island AND DRINK IT ALL!! NO MERCY FOR THE COCONUTS!!"

NO RIYA THEN THEY'LL ALL BE EXTINCT! THAT'S... well I hate coconuts so that's not that bad... uh...

NO RIYA THINK OF THE COCONUTS!!

"Why is this so hard?"

Honey. It's a coconut.

"Oh Alec, I need a big strong man to open this coconut!"

XD

The flirt XD

She really cares for her relationship with Alec, huh?

"Pay attention to ME."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Oh yeah, he feels bad...

Does he care more about him or her?

"It's about Connor?"

"What if my ex wife was right about me?"

Oh, yeah. I didn't think of that.

I mean, you DID kiss another girl on National TV. So...

"Let's stay focused, okay? Is Grett still with us?"

Oh so you're gonna ignore Alec's feelings...

I can understand though since Gabby is gone, she'd be paranoid.

"You check in on Grett while I try flipping one of the heroes to our side."

She's way ahead of him.

She's so good at this game, omg.

She foresaw this EXACT situation and thought ahead of time.

"I not only do my next showings, but I also have the schedule of the showing after that, and the showing after that, and the showing after that, and the showing after that-"

NO RIYA YOU CAN'T READ THE SCRIPT!!

"I always thought getting carried away by emotions was for weak people."

It's human, but... he's not wrong.

"But I'm starting to question if I should be ignoring these feelings."

OOOOOOOOHHHHHH

Alec learns to be more emotional and vulnerable...

"Didn't think anyone was here. I'll go."

Aw...

HEY!

HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY

NO

NO

BAD RIYA

(I say as though she's not bad usually)

I mean MAYBE she thinks Alec's still willing?

Uh, does not change the fact that she's doing this to spite Connor.

"That was fun. Come catch me later, okay Alec?"

Bad Riya.

BAD RIYA.

She's a villain. You're supposed to hate her. So it's not as bad as when James did it and it was swept under the rug.

So it makes sense for her to do this, it's in line with her motives, it's not bad writing in any way, it's just really uncomfortable.

BUT IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE UNCOMFTORABLE.

DISCOMFORT DOES NOT EQUAL BAD.

So... you know, poor Alec. Bad Riya. (Affectionate)

"Connor has been a thorn in my side the whole game. I need to find a way to keep his morale low so he's easier to boot."

YEP.

Makes sense to me. What did I say?

"You're working out?"

"You bet! Wanna work out?"

Why are you working out???

I understand warm ups and yoga, but working out?

You're gonna exhaust yourself before the challenge. I don't think that's a good idea when your food supply is limited.

"No thanks."

"Have you ever done a pull up?"

WHOA WHOA GIRL

SHE JUST SAID NO THANK YOU

Stop with the intrusion.

"Well if you want to give it a go-"

"I SAID NO!!"

HOOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFF....

"I don't like working out in front of people."

I can understand that.

"But it's just me."

YOU'RE A PERSON.

Unless you're implying you don't count as a person. Which is hilarious.

Allyson, if she says no, she says no, please don't be so pushy.

"We're on TV in front of millions of people, and they can be... quite cruel."

AW GRETT ❤️

"Oh, I completely understand how you feel!"

OH SHUT UP!!!

"After my season, everyone would say I was a waste of a casting slot."

OH HERE WE FUCKING GO.

COMPLETELY IGNORE GRETT'S FEELINGS AND TALK ABOUT YOU.

What did you say a couple of episodes ago?

"All Jake does is talk about himself and his problems!"

WHEN YOU DO THE EXACT SAME FUCKING ASS THING!!! IF NOT MORE SO!!!

"Fuck YOUR feelings, they're so miniscule to MY feelings! What about MY feelings!! I HAVE INTERNET HATE IN MY FEED!!!!" 😭

At least for Jake, it's a FLAW, or portrayed as such. And even he knows when to lay off and focus on the other person. Example, literally last episode.

SHE SAW THIS TOO.

I GUESS THAT DOESN'T MATTER THOUGH.

"I see! People would say my appearance made them sick and vomit!"

OH MY GOD

"They'd make photoshopped pictures of me with a pig tail and nose, saying I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. We really are the same, aren't we?!"

I'M SHOCKED.

BUT ALSO, CALL HER OUT GRETT!!!!!👏

I'm telling you, the hate comments thing SHOULD have been GRETT'S plotline. NOT Allyson's. Not only is it much more fitting, but IN A SINGLE SCENE, we have MORE context as to what those comments are and what Grett is going through THAN WE HAVE WITH ALLYSON THIS ENTIRE SEASON.

"Waste of a casting slot"

THAT'S IT?! REALLY?!?!

GRETT GETS ACTUAL VILE DEATH THREATS.

I've been waiting all this time for her to elaborate on what those hate comments are, or what she means when she says 'it'll ruin my career'. But we're FIFTEEN EPISODES IN, AND WE HAVE HAD NO ELABORATION.

It's just 'VAGUE HATE COMMENTS ARE HATEFUL.'

And you wonder why I'm not invested at all with her struggles?

"I didn't mean to put down what Grett had to go through."

OH, SO YOU FEEL REMORSE FOR THIS, BUT NOT MURDER?!

YEAH. OKAY.

WHAT A CONSISTENT CHARACTER /s

"Am I really just being dramatic?"

😒

NOW you're asking that?

Stan Grett. She destroyed her. 👑

"All I did was train and avoid carbs, and all I have to show for it are these comments saying, 'You're still not as skinny as so and so.' I'm tired of it! Why did I ever cater to those stupid online trolls?!"

👑

FUCKING LOVE GRETT.

Again, THIS IS SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING.

I WISH THIS WAS GRETT'S PLOTLINE, BECAUSE IT'S SO MUCH MORE COMPELLING THAN HER ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH YUL.

THIS IS SO GOOD!!!

And depressingly real. I've had friends who go through the same thing.

"I'm sure many of you have been wondering when it'd come in, but I've hidden an immunity totem somewhere at your camp."

😮

IDOL?!?!??!?

IDOL?!?!??!?!?!

I DIDN'T THINK THEY WERE COMING BACK!!!!!

OH MY GOD IT'S ON!!!! IT'S SO ON!!!!

BRING BACK THE STEALING IDOLS RUNNING GAG!!!!!🎉

OH MY GOD THEY ENDED UP DOING YOGA TOGETHER IN THE END.

See Allyson? NO ONE HATES YOU.

Unless you deserve a callout.

"So... are we just-?"

*Books it*

XD

Yeah I would do the same thing.

Also "OH NO, HE STUBBED MY TOE! OH HE'S SO HORRIBLE!!!"

Ignore how happy you three seemed before this.

Don't you care about your game?

"We need to stay loyal to each other?"

"Loyalty is a funny thing, isn't it?"

What?

"You saw how Yul treated me. Why didn't you say anything, Alec?"

Oh.

Yeah that's justified.

"Grett, that's not fair, I did say something."

Not in front of her. She doesn't know this.

"You let him get away with treating me like trash all season, and even voted with him on his last day."

I understand being really upset about this. I do.

But don't screw your game over just because you're upset.

"You and Riya are no better than Yul."

True.

But I hate Yul, so...

"So, you left him to die?"

OH GREAT. SHE'S GONNA PRAISE IT.

"Now you're thinking like me!"

"You said to stop caring what the public thinks, right?"

AGAIN, NO REMORSE. JUST EXCUSES.

ALLY, SHE IS SO OBVIOUSLY EVIL. SHE'S PUBLIC ABOUT IT!

HER WHOLE PUBLIC IMAGE IS BEING EVIL!!!

HOW DOES THIS NOT REGISTER IN YOUR BRAIN?!?!?

"I have to say, I'm impressed, Ally."

Goddammit.

Slay Riya.

Fuck Ally.

"Should I be? Jake trusted me and I ran. Isn't that... cowardly?"

...well I got the remorse I wanted.

But it's about her BEING SCARED, NOT THAT SHE TRIED TO KILL HIM.

THAT'S VERY CONTRADICTORY. SHE LITERALLY CONFESSED SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE.

THAT'S NOT BEING A 'COWARD', THAT'S BEING A SOCIOPATH.

"Hell no! His fault for falling for it. You played it smart, girl."

At least it's a villain saying it. Thank god...

"Thanks Riya."

I hate you.

🫢

I FINALLY FUCKING SAID IT!!!!!!

I HATE HER!!!!!!

TOOK ME FIFTEEN EPISODES!!! BUT I'M HERE NOW!!!

MY CHARACTER ARC IS COMPLETE, AND I AM AN ALLY HATER NOW!! 🎉

Why are you two looking in the water?

Is that a thing? Have idols been found in the water in Survivor?

(I don't mean 'next to', I mean ACTUALLY in the water)

"Also, why are we searching in the water?"

XD

SHARING A BRAIN CELL.

"Well, I-I was thinking, if I were an immunity totem, where would I hide?"

...

WITH THE FISHES, OBVIOUSLY.

FISHES EAT IDOLS FOR BREAKFAST.

FOOD CHAIN. COME ON.

"You made him feel better last night. Keep working your magic!"

"I don't want to do it."

"Even though Jake and I have been... okay, I still don't trust him."

Why?

"If I'm gonna start making my own moves outside the heroes, I can't have him knowing if I find the totem."

I mean... fair enough I guess?

I MEAN, IDOLS TEND TO GET STOLEN AROUND HERE.

"We need your help."

"Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to be alone."

I say this as motivation, slap him.

😂😂😂

THE FUCKING RECORD SCRATCH TOO!!!!

😂😂😂

OKAY, THAT WAS JUST FUNNY CAUSE HE INSTANTLY DID WHAT I SAID.

😂👏

ADD THAT ONE TO THE "GOLDEN PREDICTIONS" COMPILATION.

"You fought to get this far. Don't let it all be a waste."

YEAH!!!

"I just feel guilty..."

"NEVER let guilt rule your life!"

👏

OH MY GOSH YES!!!! YEESSS!!!!

OH I LOVE YOU!!!!!

"I don't know what came over me."

XD

Callout.

"An entity called Golden possessed me and told me to slap him... that was weird."

"I guess ol Ashley's teachings finally rubbed off on me!"

That's so sweet and awesome.

But don't ever do that accent again.

"I spent hours looking for this thing,"

How long as it been?

It only feels like an hour or half an hour.

OH MY GOD XD

Thank god there's no bird on that tree, they'd knock it over and STEAL THAT IDOL.

God it feels so good to make idol stealing jokes again. It's been so long.

Even though it's probably not appropriate at all. Screw it. That's become a meme throughout these reactions.

Why'd you stop climbing?

You can't reach it?

...why're you walking away?

WHY'D YOU STOP?

"I can't do it."

Oh...

At least they established it before this scene. So it makes sense.

"I know where the totem is."

...WHY are you telling YOUR ENEMIES?

"I'll let you take the totem as a sign of trust."

WHY?

They're your enemies.

You're just giving them two advantages instead of one.

Then they're just gonna use this to vote you off.

"How can we trust you?"

"It's either that or have fun fumbling around for hours."

I mean...I guess it's better than letting Alec or Riya have it.

"It's in that tree."

XD

THE SHOT.

"See that's the thing, I'll let you have it... IF YOU CAN GET IT! MWAHAHAAHAHA!!!"

"GOOD LUCK BITCHES!!!"

"Best of luck."

XD

WHEN DID GRETT GET AWESOME AGAIN?!?!

SHE CAN BE HER OWN CHARACTER AGAIN!!

THIS IS THE GRETT I KNOW AND LOVE! 👑

Oh.

"I did a bit of rock climbing back in my day."

"BACK IN MY DAY, ROCKS AND TREES WERE THE SAME!"

Okay the rock music backing him up 🎸

YAAAAAYY!!!!

"Someone order a cheeseburger with a side of... totem?"

Grett comes over and snatches it from him XD

"I found it first! YOINK!!!"

IDOL STEALING DAY!!!

"I spent all my search time flipping Ally!"

XD

"GODDAMMIT WHY DID I CHOOSE TO HANG OUT WITH THAT INSECURE NUSIENCE?!?!"

Me too Riya. Me too.

"Who would have thought at the beginning of the season that motherflipping Connor would have the idol?"

Just say motherfucking, it's okay.

AWWWWWWWWW❤️

"Jake trusting me? I never thought I'd see the day."

I KNOW.

Oh.

I thought we were done with her.

"I told you to never call this number again."

No you didn't.

"Oh Trevor, I thought you were my dealer."

Oh okay.

"Turns out, jobs are hard to come by when your boss fires you on national television."

You didn't think that through, did you?

"Krystal always takes what she wants, like the snake she is."

AYO DON'T DISS KRYSTAL LIKE THAT.

SHE'S JUST PRIVILEGED. THAT'S ALL.

Also, I'm sorry, but she was your boss, and you were legitimately breaking rules. GETTING FIRED IS YOUR FAULT.

"Like she took Derek..."

GET OVER IT.

DEREK IS NOT INTO YOU THAT WAY!!

TAKE A HINT!

"What do you say, Trevor, to a little... payback?"

...

Say it with me: I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.

I DON'T CARE ABOUT THIS PLOTLINE!!! I'M SORRY!! I DON'T!!

"Today's challenge will test your endurance as well as your honesty."

Op. Welp. Riya's losing XD

"DAMMIT! MY WEAKNESS!!!"

"Unless you want the prize money to be fifty cents we're done with VR."

Awww :(

Okay, I get it...

This is ALREADY LEAGUES of a better challenge than last time.

I actually like the sound of this one.

"However, if the person you asked tells the truth, you will receive the heavy weight instead."

Oh, okay.

So it's a risk.

So just don't lie.

And ask really offensive questions.

"So, who do you think's dropping out first?"

Riya.

I SAY THAT AS A RIYA STAN.

"Grett, what's your favorite food?"

Oh come on. Ask something more brutal.

"Tomato quinoa salad with low fat dressing."

...alright.

*LIE*

WHAT?!

WHY WOULD YOU LIE ABOUT THAT?! THAT'S THE EASIEST THING TO ANSWER!!!

GRETT. COME ON!!!

"I hate this show."

Hate watchers nitpicking be like ^

"Aiden, who do you prefer? Jake or Ally?"

Easy.

"Who do I prefer? What the hell does that even mean?"

"Just answer the question."

No, clarify. What do you mean by that?

She could mean "Prefer to PUNCH IN THE FACE" for all you know!

"I... prefer Jake."

The right answer.

*TRUTH*

NICE!!

"Aiden chose Jake over me!"

OH QUIT YOUR CRYING. READ THE ROOM.

"How am I less liked than Jake?!"

"Wow, where was this empathy when you left me for bear food?"

Okay, thank you. Bringing that up.

Cause that was beyond fucked up.

"Can this not be about you for once?"

I HAVE NO IDEA. IT'S A TOTAL MYSTERY /s

NO WAIT I JUST REALIZED WHY ALLYSON IS SO OUT OF CHARACTER!

SHE'S JUST DIET JAKE! HER PERSONALITY WAS CHANGED TO BE DIET JAKE!

WHINY, IMPULSIVE, PETTY, CONSTANTLY TALKING ABOUT THEIR PROBLEMS, HOLDING GRUDGES WITH PEOPLE, AND GULLIBLE TO A SIN.

She's just Jake, but with NONE of the sympathetic backstory, NONE of the good reasoning for why they'd realistically fall for deception, NONE of the actual valid reasons to hate certain people, NONE of the character development, NONE of the emotional depth and remorse for her poor actions, NONE of the moments where she sheds actual positive traits (unless you count being a quirky gamer as a positive trait), AND ALL THESE TRAITS BEING DIALED UP TO ELEVEN.

And like.... ACTUAL Jake is right there. I get wanting a flawed character, but make them consistent and make it make sense, especially when you have an actual well written flawed character in the same room.

This is basically exactly who all the hardcore Jake haters SAY Jake is. (And I've gotten comments of such and seen the comments. One of the first things I knew about the show before I watched it was that everyone hated Jake.)

WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER CHARACTER IN SEASON TWO? I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

"Alec, did you ever love your son?"

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OH THAT'S A BRUTAL ONE!!!!

"Of course I love my son!"

*LIE*

🫢

HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO.....

(under my desk)

....hohohohohoho....

I mean... no one's surprised.

STILL.

"I choose Jake. Do you ever feel like you're using people to trauma dump?"

Um... DUH?

This isn't as brutal as you think it is.

But it's still very clearly spiteful of you.

"I... do."

*TRUTH*

That's not very hard to answer.

Everyone does it!

YOU do it too, Allyson!

Don't act like this is a negative.

WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED?!

"Listen, I'm an open book now, Ally. You can't get in my head!"

Okay Jake's winning this.

He's one of the most brutally honest people here.

This challenge was MADE for him!

"Aiden, after getting rejected from Season 1, did you dye your hair black and white to appeal to the casting directors?"

Didn't he already confess this in Season 2?

"Oh... course not."

*LIE*

BUDDY.

YOU'VE ALREADY CONFESSED THIS.

I'm very surprised Aiden didn't just get crushed and die.

"Alec, at the start of the season, when you were helping me move on from Riya, was all that genuine?"

Ooooooohhh. Good one.

"Yes!"

*TRUTH*

OH MY GOD.

I kinda knew it, but OH MY GOD.

"Oh thank god! Thought this thing was broken."

XD

"Riya, are you really proud of being called the villain of TV?"

OF COURSE SHE IS.

"For my next showing, I have ALL the truths to give on how PROUD of my role I am! I made them in the little form called truth bombs! Have one! I'm giving them out!"

NO RIYA THEY'RE EXPLOSIVE!!

"You better believe it!"

*TRUTH*

Surprising no one.

Knew it.

Sorry bud.

"Ally, did you agree to date Hunter only because that would make you look better to fans?"

I mean... I'd believe Season 3 Allyson doing that tbh.

"Fuck off Jake! No!"

*TRUTH*

Fair enough.

"Jake is a piece of garbage!"

YOU'RE A PIECE OF GARBAGE!

DIDN'T YOU JUST ASK A DIRTY QUESTION TOWARDS HIM A COUPLE MINUTES AGO?!?!?

THAT'S THE GAME, ALLYSON!!!!

READ THE FUCKING ROOM!!!

"Wow, that might be the most heated on yet."

I think the one about Alec not loving his son was far more heated than that one.

But that's just my opinion.

So, by Allyson's logic, Grett is a piece of garbage because she asked if Alec loved his son. Alec is a piece of garbage because he asked Aiden about his appearance.

We can do this all day.

"Jake, did you only befriend Aiden for kicking his boyfriend out?"

Oof.

"RIYA IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE!!!!"

"Maybe at first I did, but I guess I'm genuinely starting to appreciate him."

*TRUTH*

AWWWWWW ❤️

I love it!

"Connor, so do you still have feelings for Riya?"

Oh shit.

"GRETT IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE!!!!"

"Never in million years!"

*LIE*

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH

OH SHIT.

I kinda knew it though...

How much do these weigh? I'm curious.

If they said it, I don't remember it.

"At this point, a lot of you should be hurting."

MEANWHILE CONNOR IS DYING IN THE BACKGROUND WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS FINE.

"We might be seeing rapid dropouts."

😂😂😂

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

*CRYING OF LAUGHTER*

RIGHT AFTER SHE SAID THAT-

😂😂😂

THAT WAS-

😂

THAT WAS SO OUT OF NOWHERE!!!!!!

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

I NEED A MINUTE!!!

I'M SO SORRY.

THAT WAS FUNNIER THAN THAT HAD ANY RIGHT TO BE.

"We should be seeing rapid dropo-"

*Drops DEAD*

"-well shit I'm a jinx."

DCAS Episode 15 is a great tragedy where seven lost their lives to the rapid dropouts.

"Riya, were you really trying to relate to me, or did you just want my extra vote?"

Oh there you go.

"Ally, I've been where you are."

*TRUTH*

OH.

SHE DIDN'T ANSWER THE QUESTION THOUGH.

THAT'S STILL INTERESTING. SHE ACTUALLY DOES RELATE TO HER... SHIT...

OH THAT SAYS A LOT AS TO WHY SHE CHOSE HER.

"I am so good at this game!"

Yes you are.

"My acting has gotten so great, I can fool lie detectors now."

...

I think you're lying to yourself.

I don't believe you could do that.

YEAH. NO.

THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE FOR RIYA TO DO.

SO UNLESS IT'S BROKEN, IT DETECTED THAT SHE GENUINELY DOES RELATE TO ALLYSON.

SO RIYA IS LYING TO HERSELF, BECAUSE SHE DOES NOT WANT TO CONFESS HER VULNERABILITY, UNLESS IT'S CONVENIENT.

That's what's going on here. NOT that she successfully fooled the lie detector.

Writers, I see what you did here if this was intentional. Very clever.

"I honestly deserve ten more Emmys for that."

XD

But the fact that she's so egotistical that she thinks she actually did this. Quite funny.

"When I took you out on that first date, after your success, did you consider leaving Hollywood for me?"

"Why-ever would you think that? I'm the wood in Hollywood."

OH GOD...

SHE'S ACTUALLY STUMBLED THERE.

"As if! I'd never choose you over my career, asshole."

*LIE*

YO.

I WAS RIGHT.

HOLY SHIT...

All she really wants in the end is to be loved...

Also "CONNOR IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE!!!!"

NOOOOOO QUEEEN!!!!!!!!

Told you she'd be early though. But she lasted longer than I thought.

"He's a threat! He knows too much about me! I want him gone tonight!!"

But in the end of it all, she can't allow herself to be vulnerable. She thinks she'll lose everything.

"Grett, where're you feeling it?"

"KRYSTAL IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE!!!!"

"Those are a hundred twenty pounds you're holding up."

WHAT?!?!?!??!?!?

I DON'T BELIEVE THAT!!!!

HANG ON. MATH.

...

NO SHE ACTUALLY DOES ONLY HAVE ONE. THAT'S NOT AN ANIMATION ERROR.

HOLY SHIT, THAT'S INSANE THAT THEY'RE THAT HEAVY.

I'm a weak bastard. I would've dropped first one!

"I've never been able to hold up so much!"

Awwwwww look at you girlie!👏

Strong queen! 👑

Okay Connor just gave up.

"Grett, when you broke up with Yul, was that... hard for you?"

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

THE IDEA THAT DITCHING YUL TO A CURB WOULD BE DIFFICULT.

"No."

*LIE*

IT'S BROKEN!!!!!!

HER LIE DETECTOR HELMET THINGY IS BROKEN!!!!!!

OH SHE'S STILL GOT IT THOUGH!

"Jake, do you feel like you deserve Tom's affection even if he's not giving it to you?"

"GRETT IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE!!!!"

HOLY SHIT THAT ONE'S JUST AS BAD AS THE HUNTER ONE.

Ayo why is nobody calling out Grett though??? She's so clearly a piece of garbage for this /s

"I... I do."

*TRUTH*

Daaaaaaaawwww 💔

"So it's all down to us. Me and the biggest dick on the field."

Well yeah, cause you're a woman so you don't have a dick.

XD

I'M SO SORRY!!!! I'M SO SORRY FOR THAT!!!!!

GOSH I'M GONNA GET CANCELLED FOR THAT JOKE, AREN'T I?!

"Seriously, how can someone like him over me?!"

ARE YOU DEAF?!

READ THE FUCKING ROOM!! EVERYONE IS DOING IT!!

YOU'RE DOING IT!!

SHUT UP!!!

I hope Jake wins. That would be awesome.

"Jake, if Ashley were here, do you think she'd be proud of how you're acting?"

...

"ALLY IS A PIECE OF GARBAGE!!!!"

Oh, so YOU can ask very invasive questions about someone's relationships for the sake of the game. BUT HE CAN'T?!?!

YOU DAMN HYPOCRITE.

"I do!"

*pause*

Come on.

COME ON.

*TRUTH*

YEEEEESSSS!!!!!

"What?!"

GET FUCKED!!!!

FALL!!! FALL!!! FALL!!! FALL!!!

YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!! 👏

(Also what is this in the corner of this shot? Anyone else see that?)

"With that, Jake wins immunity!"

OH THE SMILE ON MY FACE!!!!

YEEEEEEESSSS JAKE!!!! 👏🎉

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWW MY GOOOOOODDDDDDD!!!!!!

OH IT'S SO SWEET!!!!! AWWWW!!!!

THIS IS THE GOOD ENDING, HONESTLY.

Op, XD

🎵"Our friendship goes beyond your average kind of bond"🎵

🎵"But not because we're gay!" "No not because we're gay!"🎵

🎵"We're close but not that way. The only man that I love is my dad!"🎵

"I guess Lake was right. Everyone really does deserve a second chance."

Yes. They do.

"Golden, you didn't give Ally a chance."

I GAVE HER FIFTEEN CHANCES.

You gotta give up at some point, alright?

"Are you officially switching sides?"

"I don't know. Now that Jake won immunity, what's the point?"

I already know her answer.

She's fucking STUPID.

One, THEY'RE SO OBVIOUSLY EVIL.

But even ignoring that, SHE'S NOT EVEN DOING THIS FOR HER GAME! SHE'S DOING THIS SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE SHE HATES JAKE SO MUCH, FUCK THE GAME!

You know, going completely off of your own personal biases and emotions and hatred towards somebody was portrayed as a NEGATIVE in Jake's case.

But for her, it's actually gonna work!

Again, NO CONSEQUENCES. DOESN'T MAKE ME LIKE HER AT ALL.

Switching is a TERRIBLE idea. Riya, Alec, and Grett are three VERY strong competitors and have proven such all game. And Allyson is just a liability. An outsider. They will ABSOLUTELY dump her when it's convenient and they don't need her anymore.

Compare that to the non-villain's strongest member being Connor. Aside from that, Jake and Aiden are really not much of threats at all. Jake only won immunity because that challenge appealed to his character.

Even JAKE knew that Alec was full of shit when he tried to recruit him in the alliance. IMMEDIATELY saw through it and said no.

I THINK THE SHOW HAS IT MIXED UP ON WHO 'THE NAIVE ONE' IS.

"It'll hurt Jake regardless."

"I'll think about it."

Yeah.

The ONLY thing she cares about is "How do I hurt Jake?"

THAT'S ALL SHE CARES ABOUT.

Idk, it sounds like a mindset a bully would have.

"You're fishing right now?"

"Gives me a moment of peace."

"So that I can make the fish rest in peace instead."

"Boy, this place sure is quiet without Yul and Gabby, huh?"

DO NOT PUT THOSE TWO ON THE SAME FOOTING!!

THE DISRESPECT!

"I never had feelings for Riya."

"So then why did you kiss her? What? Just your unbelievable rizz?!"

"These last couple years, I haven't been with anyone. You saw the lie detector. We were drunk and I made a mistake. When I voted you out-"

"Oh yeah, it was 'for my own good'."

Yeah... makes sense to me.

He's lonely. He's desolate.

Desolate people crave attention far hungrier than those who aren't.

"Alec, when people have problems, they talk it out like adults."

Wish that was true. But it depends on the person if they can understand that.

"It's all I know, okay?! I drove Cheryll away because every fucking time we argue I walk away. I act like things don't bother me, Connor, but inside... I'm terrified of confrontation. It's who I'll always be..."

Alec.

I am SO SORRY I dismissed you in Season One.

You are actually GREAT.

THIS EXPLAINS SO MUCH, OH MY GOD...

This was really the puzzle piece I needed to properly understand him.

"I never meant to hurt you."

"But I do!"

OH MY GOD-

*RIYA JUMPSCARE*

GIRL, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!??!

"SAVING THE FISHES!!! WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M DOING!?!?! HE WILL HURT NO FISH ANY LONGER!!!!"

"Riya, what the hell?!"

"Why are you talking to the enemy?!"

"He's not my enemy!"

I get it from a character standpoint.

BUT OH MY GOD. YOU'RE GONNA LOSE ALEC.

"Awwww, enjoying your bath?"

"I have salts if you want them. Fish flavored."

"So this is how you treat me, after everything?"

"You're pathetic. I never needed you, Connor."

...

I feel like I shouldn't be here and I walked in on something.

"Just know this, Riya. I'm not here for you anymore. I'm here for me."

👏

THERE YOU GO, CONNOR!!!!

"May the best man win."

"Um, I'm a woman. Fuck you."

"Ugh, the best WOMAN will win."

XD

I feel like I'm responsible for her shit sometimes.

"Someone like Riya cannot be allowed to win this game."

Yeah, well, watch her actually win.

I know she won't. But you know. It's one of my dream realities.

She wins, but she loses everything else because everybody hates her. The money rings hollow. She realizes what she actually wanted all along too late. And now she's stuck in an endless loop of evil behavior forever because it's all she'll ever know to succeed with.

I think the theme in this season is "Working towards being the best version of yourself."

You see this with Jake, Aiden, Connor, Grett, and Alec. All these guys have arcs where they're going through inner struggles and either trying to be the best version of themself they want to be, or they're realizing they want to be a better version of themself than they already are because they are capable of it. Giving in to your negatives (not the same as trying to erase them) is what will drive you to a sad, miserable life, where you're stuck in the endless loop of making the same mistakes over and over again. But that's not what any of them want to be.

The money? Who cares? It rings hollow because it's not gonna buy your heart or a healthier life. YOU have to do that. The money is BAIT.

You can also see this with Gabby, Tom, and Ellie.

But Riya? SHE'S THE ANTI-THEME.

She REFUSES to acknowledge her positives, as to her, that is a WEAKNESS. It's a detriment. She's been raised, and trained by the show, to believe that winning the game, and the money, is EVERYTHING, and WILL solve all her problems. When in actuality, that drive only blinds her to what she actually wants all along, which is companionship and to belong somewhere where she can be herself. But she feels like she can't because "The industry wants her to be evil." So she does whatever evil thing she can to pursue her game.

In doing that, she ignores any lesson she could learn, and she chooses to remain in the endless loop of fucking up every single relationship she forms for the sake of winning the money and the game and maintaining her status as "The Villain Of TV."

And that's the very thing that will be her downfall. That's WHY while I wouldn't mind her losing, her winning the money makes way too much sense to me as THE most logical conclusion to her arc. The ULTIMATE consequence to her actions that ruins her life... is obtaining the very thing she sought out to get.

She's not just going everything wrong. SHE IS EVERYTHING WRONG.

I think that's really cool. That's also a reason WHY I love her character. And love THIS. She is SO compelling and interesting to me.

"I'm sorry about earlier-"

"Water under the bridge."

MURDER is okay.

Being pushy when you're oblivious is not.

"What if I told you, I'm not comfortable moving forward with them?"

Oh?

"The lines are getting faded, Ally. There are no heroes and villains anymore. Just winners and losers."

I mean, fair, if you want to be the secret force that controls this game.

Go for the more powerful people, then. Turn on Riya and Alec. Or Connor. He's a strong one.

"I'll vote the way you want tonight as long as you repay the favor down the line."

So...

Two. Two. THREE.

YOU STILL GIVE THE NON-VILLAINS THE MAJORITY.

"I'm starting to feel like myself again!"

YAY GRETT!!!!

"Never thought I'd write your name down, but hopefully this is the night you regret everything."

"Keep hoping. I'll turn it to despair."

This is gonna be all over the place.

"If you have the immunity totem and would like to play it, now would be the time to do so."

You might want to.

Dammit.

'RIYA'

AH FUCK! XD

I SAY AS THOUGH I DIDN'T SEE.

OH I'M ABOUT TO GET CRUSHED.

'AIDEN'

WHAT?!??!

SHE CHOSE AIDEN?!?!?!

Why AIDEN? Why not CONNOR? He's the bigger threat of the three.

Fuck you Allyson, going off your emotions instead of playing the game.

'RIYA'

'AIDEN'

FUCK. ME.

Two other random votes, probably Connor, and then one Riya.

'RIYA'

Wait, so...

Who did Riya and Alec vote then? Does it matter?

'AIDEN'

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!??!!?

FUCK.

YOU.

YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO I'M SAYING THAT TO.

I'M SO MAD AT HER.

I SAW IT COMING AND I'M SOMEHOW STILL PISSED THE FUCK OFF AT HER.

"The lines are getting faded, there are no heroes and villains anymore" MY ASS.

JOINS THE VILLAINS.

AT LEAST GRETT IS ACTUALLY TRYING TO PLAY THE GAME.

ALLYSON?!??! SHE ONLY DID THIS BECAUSE AIDEN DIDN'T LIKE THAT SHE LEFT A GUY TO DIE.

THIS IS NOT STRATEGIC. THIS IS PETTY.

AND SHE COMPLETELY GETS AWAY WITH IT, THAT'S WHAT'S REALLY PISSING ME OFF HERE.

"WHO FLIPPED?!?!?"

"ALLY!!!"

YEAH THEY KNOW!!!! THEY KNOW!!!! INSTANTLY!!!!

"I had to do what's best for me."

HOW IS THIS 'BEST' FOR YOU?!?!

YOU PUT YOURSELF IN A VERY TERRIBLE POSITION!!!

YOU MADE ONE SIDE HATE YOU, AND JOINED ANOTHER SIDE PUBLICALLY KNOWN FOR BEING STRONG AND DECEPTIVE, AND CANNOT BE TRUSTED!!!

THIS IS 'WORST' FOR YOU, ACTUALLY.

YOUR MOVE DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE.

"HOW IS THIS GOOD FOR ANY OF US?!"

THANK YOU!!!!

IT'S GOOD FOR NOBODY!!!!

"Judge me all you want."

GLADLY.

YOU FUCKING SUCK AND I HATE YOU.

AND I'M NOT GONNA BE NICE ABOUT IT ANYMORE.

I'M DONE. WE'RE OVER THAT.

"Wait, did Aiden have the totem? Did we flush it?"

XD

THAT'S ALL SHE CARES ABOUT XD

"BUT THE IDOL! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STEAL IT?!?"

"UP. YOURS. RIYA!!!"

(I HAD to make that line big)

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFF

THAT was good. XD

Oh that was deserved.

"I'm so sorry Aiden!"

"Hey, it's neither of you guys fault."

Yeah, WE KNOW WHO THAT IS.

"Thanks for not turning on me."

THE JAB.

"I know we haven't exactly been best friends this game, but-"

"Stop. I'm not in the mood for a mushy goodbye."

Awwww

"Where's the Jake I know? The toxic jealous one?"

XD

👏

OH THAT'S GOOD.

"TOXIC?! JEALOUS?! Oh screw you!"

"There he is!"

XD

Oh my heart ❤️

It's so cute

YAAAAAAAYYYY!!!! 👏🎉

OH THAT'S SO SATISFYING!!!!!

AFTER EVERYTHING, THEY'RE BESTIES IN THE END!! I LOVE IT!!!!

"I wanted Connor gone, but Ally only agreed to work with us if she got to choose who goes."

YEAH.

"Ally just so happened to pick the same thing Riya and Alec did, she's not working with them" MY ASS. THEY LITERALLY SAY IT.

"Jake is lucky he had immunity. Tonight would've been his night."

SHUT THE FUCK UP LADY. NO ONE LIKES YOU!!

"Ally is not going off of her own personal biases and hatred towards Jake. She's doing this for game reasons." MY ASS. SHE LITERALLY SAYS IT.

I JUST WANT THIS GIRL TO SHUT UP NOW.

...oh?

OH GRETT. AWWWWWW

OH THE BRANCH.

"This is stupid..."

NO DON'T GO AWAY, DO IT!!!

COME ON! DO IT!!!

YEEEESSSS!!!! GRETT!!!!! ❤️

🥹

XD

YEAH! FUCK THE WORLD!!!!

🥹❤️

THAT was BEAUTIFUL.

Grett, I love you again. SO MUCH.

MY QUEEN IS BACK!!! I'M SO HAPPY!!!

Again, there is REALLY GOOD STUFF HERE.

5/6 of this group are REALLY GOOD AND INTERESTING AND COMPELLING.

JUST IGNORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM.

Just take what I said at the beginning.

Riya and Jake are my two favorite characters in not only the season, but of the whole show. That has not changed at all. They're awesome. They make the season for me.

Even though Grett was a bit flanderized, she's still really likeable. I still like her. She's also winning be back over slowly.

And Aiden, Alec, and Connor, I like them. I like all three of these guys much more than in their original seasons, actually. Not my favorites, but I still like them and find them interesting.

So no, the problem is NOT that 'everyone in this final group is terrible'.

The problem is that there's ONE character in it that is so horribly written and horrendously unlikeable and inconsistent that she is single handedly dragging everything down.

When she's NOT on screen, I'm actually having a really good time.

When she's on screen, my heart drops and I groan, and I'm just waiting to cut away from her so we can get back to actually good characters.

GOD I HATE HOW ALLYSON AMBER IS WRITTEN.

AND THERE ARE SO MANY REASONS WHY, IT'S INSANE.

If you guys want, I can make a full essay post on WHY Ally is the worst character of Disventure Camp All Stars.

Think of it like this: I hate Yul MORE.

BUT, at the very least, Yul is SUPPOSED to be hated.

ALLY IS NOT.

YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD FOR HER.

So, though Yul is still my LEAST FAVORITE character in Disventure Camp. OBJECTIVELY SPEAKING,

All Stars Ally is worse.

YEAH. THAT'S HOW BAD I THINK IT IS.

She's not even the FUN kind to hate. She's just MISERABLE.

And NO, I will NOT take this back. I've given her so many chances, so many benefits of the doubt, I waited SO LONG for her to win be over.

But no. I've given her so many chances, and she has BLOWN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM.

I'M DONE.

I AM DONE HEARING THIS OUT. IT'S BAD.

I DO NOT CARE what comes after this with her. I'm sure it's important, but it will NOT change my opinion on her.

She could be the best character ever after this, and I won't care because it will NOT undo any of THIS.

Even if they fully elaborate what exactly Ally's hate comments are, or reveal it as something extremely horrible, or give her any other depressing sympathetic backstory, or completely rewrite her character to just be her Season 2 self, or even get over her hatred towards Jake,

I DON'T CARE. IT'S TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE.

YOU SHOULD HAVE REVEALED IT SOONER. BECAUSE NOW I DON'T CARE.

But when she's NOT on screen, THIS IS GREAT. I'm enjoying everything else here.

Alec and Connor are significantly more interesting and compelling than they were in their seasons to me.

Grett is FINALLY regaining everything I loved about her character in Season 1, and you know what? This might actually be HER BEST EPISODE IN THE ENTIRE SERIES.

And Jake and Riya, you already know how I feel about them. I LOVE THEM. THEY MAKE THE SEASON FOR ME.

If my predictions, which were already proven wrong, were about my own personal biases, Jake and Riya would be my Final Two pick. FOR SURE. There's no if whats or buts about that.

But I'm not dumb enough to actually predict that just off of 'I like their characters the best so I want it'.

...okay I kind of am.

Yeah... I don't know what to say. THIS IS SO FAR NOT THAT BAD. I got told that Episode 14 onward is back to back garbage episodes. I'M SO FAR NOT ON THAT BOAT.

Which is kinda shocking since I hated Episode 14.

THIS IS NOT THAT BAD. IT'S JUST ONE ELEMENT THAT IS THAT BAD.

***

Okay, so uh, I usually not react to the Patreon shoutouts. I just skip them. But I got a request to watch this one, so... let me just see what you want me to see so bad.

Right now it's just a Galaxy Ultra Phone Ad.

The lip sync is a bit off.

"'WD Broskay', good luck on your next Iron Man."

Okay?

"'Riya is a parasite. Move on Connor.'"

XD

That person I'm assuming is a Riya hater.

Respect though.

"'We need a villain winner'... alright..."

XD

THAT'S ME.

Not actually me, BUT THAT'S ME.

"'Keith is eloping with Tom'."

AYO

JAKE'S NOT GONNA BE HAPPY.

"'Ally's Only Fans'"

Respect your opinion. But not me.

"Somebody should probably tell Hunter."

Hunter I'm so sorry.

"'James be my sugar daddy'... back off he's mine."

XD

AIDEN, YOOOOOOOOOOO

What, is THAT what you guys wanted to show me? This?

"'Yul has a micro penis'."

😂👏

Okay no, THAT was what you wanted to show me!

THE CALLOUT!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!

I love that I now know there's people who hate Yul as much as I do XD

"'I'm gonna kidnap Tom.'"

WHAT ARE THESE NAMES?!?!?

"'Poison Ivy' I'm more of a Harley Quinn fan myself."

Ooh, something new we know about Aiden. He's a DC guy.

THE OTHER DC.

"'Don from Pokemon BITCH'"

Aggressive.

"'Connor is a flop, move on Riya.'"

XD

WE GOT THE OPPOSITE GOING ON HERE!!

Well which is it?

They both need to move on if you ask me.

"'Yul's secret side chick' hey, bestie, move on."

ME TOO AIDEN.

I'M CONCERNED FOR THAT PERSON.

"'Yul shut the fuck up and admit you're dating Kai'."

NO

NOOO

NOOOOOOO

NO HE'S NOT!!

"Hey that's mean. Kai's too good to date that asshole."

XD

Why is Aiden so savage in this?

"'Skibidi sigma dub wat wiz'... I feel so incredibly sorry for your generation."

😂

THAT'S GOING IN MY FOLDER. I'M SAVING THAT ONE.

THAT IS HOW I FEEL. I FEEL SO SORRY FOR THIS GENERATION.

"'Aiden's GF' Awkward..."

Hey you can be poly.

"And for those happy that I'm finally out of the game, congratulations, your prediction finally came true after twelve episodes."

OKAY. THAT'S BASED.

ROASTING THE AIDEN HATERS. LOVE IT.

I am NOT an Aiden hater. Idk where any of you get that from. I made a tier list when I finished Season 2. I LIKE HIM. He's not my favorite or anything, BUT I LIKE HIM.

Okay I see why you wanted me to watch that just to see that. Do not expect me to go through all these segments though, unless there's something you really REALLY think I should see.

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [6/6] creatures -> ghost riders

In storm clouds just like these, phantom hunters would appear, riding black horses with blood-red eyes, and wolves and hounds at their side, baying and snarling. What were they hunting? Souls.

[pollsgalore]

Requested Poll

[sukibenders]

The way people are becoming anti-children nowadays is really sad. And I'm not talking about people not wanting to have kids of their own, that's fine and something that shouldn't be shamed nor up to someone else to debate. No, I'm talking about the people who adamantly hate these little humans for simply existing, wanting to ban them from spaces due to them having emotional reactions that they are still learning to understand (you know, the kind of lessons that everyone had to learn and figure out at one point). It's gotten to the point where I've even seen these types of people genuinely support children being harmed and deny their hurt under the consensus of "Well then maybe they shouldn't be there," in your average public space. Like, imagine thinking hating on children, people who need assistance and guidance, is something to be proud of.

[sleepii-moth]

man if i had the engergy to write fics. the things id do to fiddleford.. oh man the things id do..

[glitterhoof]

a little bit overwhelmed by just how many toys are on the backlog of the TLC list but I think I can manage. One pony at a time. I need to make heartthrobs diagnosis sheet which should be relatively easy now that I know what I want on it

[neuromantis]

i think people who sell pyrotechnics, especially to CHILDREN, should get a couple of their fingers blown off or AT THE LEAST develop a ptsd-like response to the sound of things blowing up around them.

[formulaonecrumbs]

we miss you 😕

dad!Lando Norris x mom!reader

summary: charlie, their 5yo son, didn’t want lando to leave for race week. though, he manages to sneakily message him from your phone

warnings: possibility of getting baby fever (i did)

A/N: i have such bad baby fever it’s crazy. i’ve literally wanted a kid since i was 12 so this fic is just feeding my delusions (when r they not) anyways i hope u enjoy! love u, sweethearts ❤️

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

the night before he left, charlie wouldn’t let go of his leg.

lando was standing in the hallway with his suitcase, trying to zip it up while charlie clung to him like a koala, arms tight around his thigh and face squished into the side of his leg.

“mate,” lando laughed, running a hand through his hair, “i need that leg. i kinda use it for walking.”

charlie didn’t budge. he mumbled something that sounded like don’t go into the fabric of lando’s sweatpants.

you were standing nearby with your arms crossed, trying not to melt at the sight. “he’s been like this all day,” you said softly. “he even asked if we could hide your passport.”

lando looked down at the little bundle of clinginess stuck to him and sighed. “charlie,” he said gently, crouching down. “come here, buddy.”

charlie let go just enough for lando to scoop him up and hold him close. he wrapped his arms around lando’s neck immediately, sniffing into his hoodie.

“i don’t want you to leave,” he mumbled. “i missed you all the christmas time and now you’re gonna be gone again.”

lando pressed a kiss into his curls. “i know. i missed you too. but i’m only going for a few days. i’ll call every night. and guess what?”

charlie blinked at him, lip wobbling.

“i’m gonna bring you back something super cool from the paddock. like… something very secret and race-car-ish.”

charlie considered this. “like a tire?”

lando grinned. “okay, maybe not that big. but something cooler.”

they stayed like that for a while. you were the one who eventually had to say, “lando, the car’s outside.”

he hugged you tightly at the door, whispered something about texting when he landed and to kiss charlie for him if he’s asleep by the time you get back inside.

but charlie wasn’t asleep. not really. you found him sitting on your bed with your phone in his lap and the most innocent expression ever.

“baby,” you said. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he said way too fast, quickly locking the screen and holding the phone out to you.

suspicious. but you didn’t think much of it.

it wasn’t until later, after you were in the kitchen and finally checking your phone, that you saw it.

today at 7:41 pm

hi dady

i miss u r u in the plane yet

how meny sleeps til u come home

can u tel the car go fast so u win n come bak

do u have snak

i am waring ur hoody mummie

said its to big but i like it

i put ur hat on my bear

read at 7:45 pm ✔︎✔︎

hey buddy

i’m on the plane now

i miss you so much already

you’re wearing my hoodie??

you’re the coolest kid ever. make sure mummy takes a picture, ok?

ok but she dosnt no i took her fone

pls dont tel her

your secret’s safe with me

but maybe give it back before she finds out

ok

also can we hav pankakes when u come home

pancakes and a race car story. deal?

read at 7:56 pm ✔︎✔︎

later that night (before you’d checked your phone), when you went to tuck charlie into bed, he was already curled up in lando’s hoodie with your phone under his pillow.

you sighed, smiling, and gently took it out.

you texted lando yourself before heading to bed.

today at 10:34 pm

charlie hijacked my phone

obviously

but he misses you. a lot.

we both do.

i miss you guys more than anything

already counting the sleeps

kiss him goodnight for me ♥︎ liked by you

and save me a spot in bed for when i’m back

♥︎ liked by you

read at 10:41 pm ✔︎✔︎

you held the phone to your chest for a second before turning off the light.

three more sleeps.

THE END :>

[thebluediner]

INTERVIEW HOTNESS/ HOTMESS

host! reader x guest! billie

explanation: it's like a video compilation of all the moments from the interview with reader but in words for y'all

"welcome to the hot ones show where we have an even hotter guest, Billie Eilish" you gesture your hands towards billie for the camera to follow.

"you think i'm hot ?" her brows arch in curiosity with a slight grin on her face.

"I think you're pipping hot" you confirm with slight aggression.

"so you wanna kiss " billie asks her shoulders shrugging with a big flirtatious smile.

"fuck yeah" you say leaning in-

#wing 1

you pick the cards with questions on them flipping through them for the right question to ask while eyeing billie.

"should I be scared ?" she asks with suspicion looking around at the cast behind the camera and back to you.

"not unless you have something so hide" you answer her looking at her hard like some detective from a kids show.

"bitch I'm a celebrity I try hiding everything" she bursts out laughing along with you for a couple of seconds before you both calm down.

"alright what something you've hidden from security when you go to events or boarding a plane" you ask her before setting the card down.

"uhm a vibrator, well vibrators cause there was a lot of them " she elaborates while trying her not to laugh.

"should've eaten that wing billie" you crack up in disbelief looking at the cast because they were also giggle behind the camera.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 2

"your question is a guest who smelt the foulest" billie who immediately takes out her "your turn " perfume and bangs it on the table.

you slightly flinch at the noise before looking closely at what it is. when you finally realise your eyes get bigger before clapping your hands.

"now that's some promo right there" you point at the product while billie waves it in the air.

"now tell us who it is so I can send it to them" she deapans before looking right at you with some pressure to answer.

"oh hell no I'm eating this wing and I'm keeping that for myself thank you very much" you say grabbing the perfume and eating the wing.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 3

"just eat the wing man i won't even bother asking the question" you surrender pushing the wing closer to her.

"no wait lemme see" she takes the card from you to read for herself. her eyes scan the paper reading what's written in the fine print before her jaw drops.

"you know what you were right" she places the card down and bites into the wing.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 4

"a celebrity you've hooked up while working with them on a project" the set members let's out little gasps.

"none but you could be the first" one of the set members hollers at your flirting making billie blush and hide it with her question card.

"oh my gosh girl get out" she says pointing to the door.

you who actually stands up and leaves the the set leaving billie in fits of laughter that you actually stood up and left.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 5

"bro now this wing is so hot it makes me wanna tell you all the people I've hooked up with" billie admits in the midst of drinking ice cold water to put out the spice on her tongue.

"oh don't expose us now" you joke catching billie off guard who then chokes on her water.

"oh my gosh billie don't die " you stand up from your seat to help her out while laughing a bit.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 6

"fuck my lips are so hot" you blubber picking up blocks of ice and putting them in your mouth.

"you do have hot lips " billie chimes in with a flirtatious smile.

since there is ice in your mouth you point at her mumbling something about how dare she flirts with you while you're suffering which only makes her laugh more.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 7

"you think if we kiss it'd burn less" billie asks panting with her tongue hanging out.

"that's not you speaking it's the spice right" you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"I don't know wanna find out" billie leans forward.

"Billie Eilish Baird O'Connell!" you scream backing up because of being flustered.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

#wing 8

" I need to dip my lips in something to ease down the pain of the spice" billie says looking around the table for literally anything even a napkin at this point.

"I know something " your brow arches in mischief.

"oh yeah wh- bro get out! " billie finally catches up to your dirty joke.

"don't act like you wouldn't say that too" you try defending yourself while you double back laughing.

"actually yeah I would " billie admits shaking her head.

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 20

˗ˏˋ DIY bracelets ˎˊ˗

"You were not expecting to really enjoy the MoMA exhibition, but Jungkook looks so interested and in his element that his energy is contagious. Even with a IUD in your uterus staging mutiny, and him trying to evade your questions throguh a DIY bracelet shop."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 10,4k

content: working hours at B&N, books, jk being goofy as usual, subway touches (what was that?), jk's genuine interest in photography, uterus pain, kids asking questions (lmao), jk being bff w boundaries as usual, soft conversations, avoiding certain topics, and making friendship bracelets (ew gay???) (p.s. i'm literally queer, shush it.)

✧ author's note ✧

*descends from the sky on a sparkly cloud of serotonin and unresolved sexual tension* GREETINGS, MY LITTLE PSYCHOTIC DAFFODILS. *ducks the knife thrown at my head* RUDE. *throws it back, it lands in someone’s thigh, probably Jungkook’s*

Okay okay okay okay. *deep breath.*

Hello, my beloved kikizens. If you’re reading this… I’m most likely abroad, roaming the earth like the girlboss nomad I pretend to be on Instagram, while in reality I’m crying over the outline of chapter 23 in the Notes app and eating overpriced airport pastries. Yes. I wrote this ahead of time. Yes. I am the most responsible irresponsible person you’ve ever met. Time traveling author note from Past!Kiki, sending love and ibuprofen to Future!You. Let’s hope the plane didn’t crash because, if so, Fuck Me Up Jungkook is now your responsibility. Please keep him fed and slightly emotionally constipated, just as I left him.

NOW. LET'S TALK. This chapter. THIS CHAPTER. We are entering the land of slow burn intimacy and micro-shifts in character dynamics that make me froth at the mouth. I need to scream about it. I am screaming about it. Nix at Barnes & Noble? A concept. Her choosing a retail job because she wants to save someone the way books saved her??? Yeah okay I'm totally fine, I'm just on the floor sobbing about it in a public bathroom.

AND JUNGKOOK. THAT BASTARD. Being respectful?? Giving her space while still being present?? Letting her lead and following her cues like a man who understands autonomy and emotional nuance??? Jail. Absolute jail. He’s so annoying and so HOT about it. I love writing him because he’s cocky and feral and dumb, but also deeply perceptive and compassionate when it counts. Like okay yes he's a little insufferable, but also, he's the kind of man who listens when you talk about your reproductive health without flinching and I think that's worth something.

Also. Let’s talk about the bracelets. Phoenix and Rogue. Fire-coded losers who pretend they don’t care while making color-coded matching jewelry??? WHO SAID YOU COULD BE CUTE. WHO SAID.

Anyway. This chapter is the beginning of a shift. A very soft shift. We’re not in love yet. We’re not even close. We are in that horrible, confusing, liminal space where friendship might be possible eventually but everyone’s still too scared and too stupid to say it out loud. They’re not friends yet. But they’re getting there. We’re watching in real time as they learn each other’s pressure points—what to push, when to pull back. It’s very ugh my chest hurts but also my heart is fluttering kind of vibe. Which is my favorite thing to write. Obviously.

Now. To talk about me, because I love attention: I’ve only been posting for a few months and I’m already overrun with WIPs like some kind of literary hoarder. It’s a problem. I start stories, then my ADHD bitchass brain says “new shiny idea???” and next thing I know I’m drowning in three AUs, an enemies-to-lovers high school AU I wrote at 3AM, and a secret smutty one-shot I can’t stop thinking about. It’s a whole ecosystem of chaos. But I do want to write them all. I do. I just also want to nap. And read. And rot.

So yeah. I think about y’all waiting for updates more than you know. I stress about it. I chew on it like emotional gum. My Spirk fic hasn’t updated in two months and it haunts me in my sleep. But I’m trying to accept that writing is better done when it feels good, not when I’m spiraling in guilt. So. If I ever start something and it takes me ages to finish, just know I do want to get there. I just move at the speed of depression and distraction.

AND A GENTLE REMINDER: this is a slow burn. A SLOW slow burn. Not the kind where they kiss in chapter 5 and you pretend it’s slow because they didn’t bang yet. No. I mean they will not start catching actual feelings for a while. There will be distractions. Other people, love interests. Awkwardness. Denial. You will watch them flounder. You will scream at your phone. You will think “surely they must realize it now,” and I will look you in the eyes and say, “no. no they do not.” Because the point is the journey. The point is the becoming. Not the kissing. (Okay fine also the kissing. But later.)

We are 20 chapters in, and I am being so serious when I say we are maybe… 20% into the full story. If that. I want to go all the way. From strangers to roommates to fuckbuddies to friends to best friends to oh my god it was you all along. I want to write every beat. Every change. Every stupid, messy, human moment. And yes. We will suffer. You, me, Nix, Jungkook, Yeji, Taehyung, everyone.

So I'd say sorry, but let's be honest, if you’re here right now—chapter 20, still with me—I know what kind of sick little freak you are. Masochist. You're not fooling anyone.

And I adore you for it. Thank you for choosing violence with me. Thank you for loving these two idiots. Thank you for reading. I mean it. So much.

Okay. Enough rambling. Go read. Go cry. Go scream. Tell your friends. Tattoo “Phoenix x Rogue” on your ass if you feel so inclined.

Mwah.

(Shameless reminder to support me on Ko-fi if you like my unhinged writing mess).

Edit because apparently I need to make this clear; my stories are extremely slow paced. This is STATED in the author’s INTRO I EXPLICITLY mention you must READ before delving into any of my works. I am tired of messages complaining about the pacing. You are warned beforehand. You chose to read this knowing it’s going to be slow as hell. Nobody is holding you hostage. If you’re bored, you can leave. I seriously don’t care. I am writing my stories because I crave this type of storytelling where everything is narrated in detail and nothing is glossed over. My readers know that and they choose to stay because they want the same thing. 80% of stories out there are fast-paced. I am catering to the people who want this type of organic development. If that’s not your thing, that’s absolutely fine. But you don’t get to complain and whine about something when there’s 100 fanfics out there you can read instead. You don’t get to come for me or my writing—lest of all my readers. I said what I said.

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

Books have always been your lifeline in a world that feels like it's trying to drown you.

You've loved them for as long as you can remember, though you can't pinpoint the exact moment they became your refuge. It wasn't a dramatic epiphany or a life-changing event. Just a gradual realization that between the pages of a book, you could breathe easier. 

Kafka speaks to the part of you that feels constantly out of step with the world (though you'd never admit that to Taehyung—his smug "I told you so" would be unbearable). 

Murakami paints surreal landscapes that make your own reality feel a little less suffocating. 

And now Donna Tartt, because you're tired of Jimin's scandalized gasps every time you confess to not having read her yet.

You weren't the stereotypical bookworm growing up. No thick glasses perched on your nose, no disdainful sniffs at the mention of pop culture. You didn't turn your nose up at Harry Styles concerts or roll your eyes at school dances. 

But even as you navigated the treacherous waters of adolescence—first periods and friendship fallouts, the constant drama of simply existing as a teenager—books were always there. 

A constant, even if sometimes pushed to the background.

They became your armor when the weight of expectations threatened to crush you. When disappointment hung heavy in the air, threatening to send you away in a chokehold, you'd retreat into worlds made of paper and ink. 

It was easier to face fictional monsters than the very real ones lurking in parent-teacher conferences and college application deadlines.

Now, standing amidst the shelves of Barnes & Noble, surrounded by the comforting smell of new books and possibility, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging. Like you've come full circle. From the little girl who used to hide under her covers with a flashlight, devouring stories long past bedtime, to the woman who's made words her life's work.

It's not always easy. 

Sometimes the words on the page blur together, your mind too full of real-world worries to lose yourself in fiction. 

But even then, the weight of a book in your hands is grounding. 

A reminder that there are always other worlds to explore, other lives to live, if only for a few hundred pages.

Maybe that's why you're here, arranging displays and recommending titles to strangers. 

Because somewhere out there is another person drowning in expectations, desperate for a lifeline. 

And maybe, just maybe, you can be the one to hand them the right book at the right moment—help them with their very own small act of rebellion against a world that sometimes feels too heavy to bear.

Mark hovers nearby as you arrange a new display of bestsellers, lanky frame, loose shirt and baggy pants. He's the one who picked up your application when you and Yeji came in last week—the one with the kind eyes and the nervous habit of clutching his hands together every five seconds.

Blonde, blue-eyed. You’d dare say he’s not bad-looking. For a man.

"So basically," he explains, voice pitched low like he's sharing state secrets instead of retail procedures, "most days you'll either be on register, floor assistance, or shelving. Today you're just shadowing me on the floor."

Floor assistance, as it turns out, is mostly wandering around looking approachable (but not too approachable) and occasionally directing lost souls to the bathroom or the manga section. You're also expected to straighten displays, check for misplaced books, and maintain what Mark calls "the Barnes & Noble aesthetic."

"Which means?" you ask, adjusting a copy of the latest Sally Rooney that's slightly out of alignment with its siblings.

"You know," he shrugs, hands doing that awkward hovering thing again, "like... cozy but sophisticated. Inviting but not cluttered."

You nod like this makes perfect sense, though privately you think it sounds like the kind of bullshit corporate memo someone got paid way too much to write.

"What about recommendations?" you ask. "Do we have any input on displays or—"

"Oh, totally!" His face brightens. "We each get to curate an employee picks shelf. You can start working on yours next week."

That, at least, sounds promising. 

Already your mind is cataloging possibilities—perhaps a mix of classics and contemporary, maybe something unexpected thrown in. Definitely not the usual suspects everyone claims to have read but hasn't.

And just like that, the morning quickly blurs into afternoon. 

Your tasks are the same all day: shelving, straightening, and following Mark around as he points out the minutiae of bookselling. It's mindless work, but not unpleasant. There's something soothing about putting things in order, about knowing exactly where everything belongs.

By the time your lunch break rolls around, you've settled into a comfortable groove. The break room is empty except for you and your sad turkey sandwich, the ancient TV in the corner playing a rerun of The Office. One where Jim is pulling some elaborate prank on Dwight. You find yourself smiling despite the mediocrity of your lunch.

The afternoon passes in much the same way—quiet, uneventful, almost peaceful. You help an elderly woman find the latest Louise Penny mystery. You alphabetize a section of poetry that looks like it's been hit by a tornado. You dust shelves that probably haven't seen a feather duster since Obama was president.

And then, suddenly, it's 5 PM.

You glance at your phone, mildly surprised that eight hours have passed without a single customer meltdown or retail horror story. No one has asked to speak to your manager. No one has tried to return a clearly read book with coffee stains on page 47. No one has even approached you with one of those vague "I'm looking for a book with a blue cover about a thing that happens" requests.

In fact, you've barely interacted with customers at all. It wasn't your turn on register, and most browsers seemed content to wander without assistance. 

It's been... nice. 

Quiet. 

The kind of job where you can disappear into your own thoughts for stretches at a time.

You could get used to this, you think, clocking out and grabbing your bag from the locker. 

Maybe it won't be the soul-crushing retail experience Yeji warned you about. Maybe you've lucked into the unicorn of part-time jobs—one that pays the bills without completely draining your will to live.

Or maybe it's just the first-day honeymoon period, and next week you'll be dealing with entitled parents who think the children's section is a free daycare.

Either way, as you push through the employee exit into the early evening air, you feel a strange sense of… accomplishment? 

Surely, it's not saving lives or changing the world, but you can’t deny it’s satisfying; a day spent surrounded by books, putting things in order, creating small pockets of calm in a chaotic world.

And now, apparently (because God forbid the universe lets you forget) you have plans. 

With Jungkook, of all people. 

The thought should make you anxious.

It doesn’t.

You check your phone and see his text:

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚊? 𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 

You scan the street and spot him leaning against a lamppost, scrolling through his phone, looking unfairly good in a simple black t-shirt and jeans. Your roommate. Your sometimes-hookup. Your... friend?

The word still feels strange, but maybe it's time to try it on for size.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚒'𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚞

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 1𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚙𝚕

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚘��� 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚒'𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚗

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚡

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚝𝚠

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚛𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 🙄

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛?

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚟

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚑𝚝𝚘

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚞 𝚋𝚝𝚠 𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒'𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚡 

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒'𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚗𝚘 𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚝

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚞 𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚝𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚊𝚏

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚢 

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚑𝚝𝚘

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑𝚑

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒'𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎

𝐊𝐮𝐤𝐨🖕🏻: 𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚢𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝟹𝟸𝟷

You spot him leaning against the lamppost, scrolling on his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders relaxed, black t-shirt fitting just right—not too tight, not too loose. It’s casual. Effortless. 

And yeah, you’ve seen him in casual before—sweats, pajamas, even that stupid hoodie he refuses to throw out—but this is different. This is casual street Jungkook in the wild, outside the apartment. 

Casual street Jungkook who’s here with you to do something normal and non-sexual and… friendly.

He looks good. But then again, you already knew that. There’s a reason you fuck him despite his infuriating personality. 

Even when he says things that make you want to strangle him with his own belt.

He catches sight of you approaching and grins, that stupid lopsided grin that’s all teeth and confidence. 

“Hey,” he says, voice light like this is just another day.

You don’t respond. Don’t even look up from your phone as your thumb swipes through apps in search of Maps. 

“We have a twenty-minute ride from Union Square to the MoMA,” you say flatly. “The exhibit starts in thirty-five, so let’s go.”

“Sure,” he says easily, pushing off the lamppost with a lazy shrug. “What line?”

“N, Q, R—whichever comes first.” You finally glance up at him as you say it, but only briefly. Just long enough to catch the slight raise of his eyebrows before he nods.

“Okay.”

And then you’re walking side by side toward the subway entrance like this is normal. Like this isn’t the first time you’ve agreed to spend time together without sex as the unspoken endgame.

The stairs down to the subway are crowded—typical for a weekday evening—and you both swipe your cards at the turnstile without a word. There’s a guy pissing in one corner of the station (because of course there is), and Jungkook widens his eyes in a grimace like he’s trying to wipe away the sight of it. You don’t comment, just keep moving toward the platform like nothing happened.

It shouldn’t feel awkward. It’s never been awkward with him before—not even when things got messy or complicated or downright stupid between you two. 

But now? 

Now it feels like there’s this invisible weight hanging between you, pressing down on every step you take together.

Maybe it’s because he brought up that whole “trying to be friends” thing this morning—friends who have expectations, and expectations lead to disappointment, and disappointment leads to losing control.

Or maybe it’s because now that he said it out loud—now that he put friendship on the table—you can’t stop overthinking every little thing about this outing. 

What does he expect from you? Does he want small talk? Does he want silence? Is this supposed to feel casual or meaningful or something else entirely?

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye as you both stop near the edge of the platform. He’s standing close but not too close—hands still in his pockets, gaze fixed on some ad plastered across the opposite wall. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or tense or anything remotely resembling how you feel right now.

Which makes sense because Jungkook never overthinks anything. He just does whatever feels right in the moment and deals with the consequences later (if at all). 

It’s one of the things that drives you crazy about him—and maybe one of the things you secretly envy.

The train isn’t here yet, so now what? Do you say something? Ask him about his day? Pretend this is normal and fine and not at all weird for you?

“So…” Your voice comes out hesitant—too hesitant—and you immediately hate yourself for it. 

Nice going, stupid bitch.

He glances at you but doesn’t say anything right away, waiting for you to finish whatever thought you’re trying (and failing) to articulate.

“What did… what did you do?” You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as if that’ll somehow make this less painful for both of you. “Until… y’know… five?”

His lips twitch like he’s fighting back a smirk—like he knows exactly how much effort it took for you to ask such a simple question—and for some reason that makes you want to shove his head against the next train.

“Not much,” he says finally, his tone casual but not dismissive. “Watched some YouTube tutorials. Tried making sourdough again.”

You blink at him. “Sourdough?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, like baking bread is just a totally normal thing for someone like him to do in their free time. “Didn’t come out great though.”

“Oh.” 

You don’t know what else to say to that—to him—so instead you just nod and glance down at your phone again like there’s something urgent demanding your attention.

But then, as if destiny decided (for once) to make things easier for you, the train arrives with its usual screech of brakes and rush of stale air, saving you from having to come up with any more awkward small talk on the platform.

So you step onto the train together—side by side but not touching—and you can’t help but wonder if this whole ‘trying to be friends’ thing is going to be harder than either of you realized.

Inside Jungkook moves instinctively to the metal bar overhead, reaching up to steady himself as the train lurches forward. You follow suit, your fingers wrapping around the same bar just a few inches away from his.

It’s fine. It’s normal. People share subway bars all the time. Nothing weird about it.

Except your hand shifts slightly as the train rounds a corner, and suddenly your pinky brushes against his. Just barely—a fleeting touch—but it’s enough to make you freeze for half a second.

And… 

You don’t look at him. 

You refuse to look at him. 

Because if you do, you’ll see that stupid smirk he always gets when he knows he’s gotten under your skin, and you’re not sure you can handle that right now.

But then his hand shifts too—like, on purpose?—and his pinky brushes yours again. 

Softer this time. 

Lingering.

Your stomach twists in a way that feels equal parts annoying and… something else you don’t want to name. You glance up at him despite yourself, ready to snap something sarcastic or dismissive or whatever it takes to make this moment feel less charged than it suddenly does.

But he’s not smirking. He’s just… looking at you. Calmly. Quietly. Like this is nothing more than two people sharing a subway bar in a crowded train.

And maybe it is nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking it because that’s what you do—because every little thing with him feels like it carries more weight than it should.

Still, when his fingers shift again—this time curling slightly so the side of his hand presses against yours—you don’t pull away. 

You don’t say anything either, just let your fingers relax against the bar as the train rattles onward.

It’s small. Subtle. Barely even noticeable in the grand scheme of things.

But somehow, in the cramped chaos of the subway car—with strangers pressed against you on all sides—it feels like the quietest moment you’ve had all day.

You don’t look at him again—not directly—but out of the corner of your eye, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Not cocky or teasing or anything remotely resembling his usual expressions.

Just soft.

And for some reason, that makes your throat tighten all over again.

You never expected to find Jungkook beautiful.

He stands in front of a massive black and white photograph with his head tilted slightly and dark brown eyes narrowed in concentration.

The lightning inside the space makes everything feel way more thought-provoking than it actually is. All you notice, really, is how it deepens the line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his eyebrows. His lips, and how they move silently, like he's having some private conversation with the image before him.

Stupid, handsome motherfucker. Why does he exist in your space?

You've seen him naked. You've seen him laughing so hard he nearly falls off the couch. You've seen him half-asleep and grumpy at 6 AM.

But you've never seen him like this—completely absorbed, genuinely focused on something that isn't getting laid or annoying the shit out of you.

"The composition is fucking incredible," he says without looking at you, gesturing at the photograph. "See how they've used negative space to draw your eye to the subject? And the depth of field is so deliberate—keeps you just slightly off-balance."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden technical analysis. Since when does Jungkook know smart words?

"You actually know about photography?" It comes out more surprised than you intended.

He turns to you then, one eyebrow raised. "Film major, Nix. Kind of comes with the territory."

"Yeah, but—" You stop yourself, not sure how to articulate that you assumed his interest in film was mostly about looking cool and impressing girls.

"But what?"

"Nothing," you mutter, moving closer to the photograph. "Just didn't realize you paid attention in class."

He snorts. "I maintain my GPA through pure charm and good looks alone. No actual knowledge required."

You roll your eyes, but there's no real annoyance behind it. "Seriously though, you seem like you actually know what you're talking about. It's... weird."

"Weird that I'm not a complete idiot?" He steps back from the photograph, hands sliding into his pockets. "Gee, thanks."

"That's not what I meant."

He shrugs, already moving toward the next piece—a series of distorted portraits that seem to melt into one another.

"I just like this stuff. Always have."

You follow him, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Since when?"

"Since forever," he says, stopping in front of the portraits. "My mom was into photography. Had this old Pentax she used to carry everywhere. Taught me how to develop film in our bathroom when I was like, eight."

His voice always turns weirdly soft when his mom is involved. It makes you pause.

This is the most he's ever shared about his family, you realize.

You're not sure whether to press further or let it go.

Before you can decide, he continues, "These portraits are using multiple exposure. See how the faces blend together? It's like—when you overlay two negatives, you get this ghost effect. The new digital stuff makes it easier, but there's something about doing it on actual film that hits different."

His enthusiasm is... surprising. And weirdly contagious. You find yourself leaning in closer to see what he's pointing out, actually interested in the technical explanation.

"The photographer probably used a really slow shutter speed too," he adds, gesturing at the blurred edges of the subjects' features. "Makes movement look like this—sort of ethereal, you know?"

You don't know, not really, but you nod anyway.

Because his voice picks up speed when he talks about this, his hands do slightly more animated movements as he explains, and there’s genuine passion coloring his words and it’s…

It's... different. Seeing him care about something so much.

"What?" he asks suddenly, catching you staring at him.

You hadn't realized you were. Heat creeps up your neck, and you look away quickly.

"Nothing."

"Nah, you were looking at me weird."

"Just..." You shrug, aiming for casual. "You're a huge nerd, that's all."

He blinks at you, then barks out a laugh. "Wow. I share my vast knowledge and expertise, and that's what I get?"

"Vast knowledge? Your head barely fits in the room as it is."

"That's it," he declares, turning away dramatically. "I'm not explaining anything else. Figure it out yourself, philistine."

You swat at his arm, fighting a smile. "Oh come on, I was joking. Keep nerding out. It's..." Cute? Interesting? Surprisingly not annoying? "...Educational."

He gives you a suspicious look but seems mollified. "Fine. But only because I'm generous with my brilliance."

You snort, following him to the next piece. "So generous."

And it's strange, this feeling—this easy back-and-forth that doesn't have the usual sharp edges.

For a moment, it almost feels like you could be friends. Real friends, not just roommates who occasionally fuck and mostly argue.

The thought is so unexpected that it—

Pain.

Sharp and sudden, like someone stabbing a hot poker into your lower abdomen. Your breath catches, body instinctively curling in on itself.

Your hand flies to your stomach as another wave hits, this one even more intense than the first.

It's the IUD again—has to be. But this is worse than before. Much worse.

You stop walking, one hand gripping the nearby wall for support as you try to breathe through it.

Just breathe. It'll pass. It has to.

It doesn't.

The third wave nearly brings you to your knees, a cold sweat breaking out across your forehead.

Jungkook makes it several steps before realizing you're no longer beside him. He turns back, eyes falling on your hunched form, and his expression shifts instantly from relaxed to concerned.

"Yo, what's wrong?" He's back at your side in three quick strides, voice pitched low but urgent.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak yet. Just need a minute. Just need to breathe.

"Phoenix?" His hand hovers near your elbow, not quite touching. "Hey, talk to me. What's happening?"

"It's—" Another stab of pain cuts you off, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep from making a sound. "It's nothing. Just—cramps."

His frown deepens, eyes scanning your face.

"Bullshit. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," you insist. "Just give me a second."

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue, but the alternative is worse.

Admitting weakness? Letting him see you crumble?

Absolutely fucking not.

Your uterus twists again—sadistic little organ—and you clench your jaw so hard you're surprised your teeth don't crack.

Breathe. Just breathe. You've handled worse.

(Have you, though?)

He's hovering now, that frown cutting deeper between his eyebrows, and you hate it.

Hate how his eyes flick over your face, cataloging symptoms.

Hate how his hand lifts halfway toward you before dropping back to his side, like he's afraid to touch you without permission.

"Ibuprofen," you manage, the word strained but determined. "I just need some ibuprofen."

"Nix, you seriously look like you're about to pass out—"

"Ibuprofen," you cut him off, sharper this time. "Seriously. I'll be okay. Just need. Ibuprofen."

You're not going home. Not happening.

You just got this fucking copper IUD on Wednesday—of course it's being a bitch. Three days of cramping is normal, right? Has to be.

And this is your first real attempt at being normal humans together, plus it's his birthday and Yoongi's expecting you to keep him out until eight. Your goddamn uterus is not ruining this.

A particularly vicious cramp rips through you, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making a sound. Jungkook notices, because of course he does. His eyes narrow, jaw working like he's physically biting back whatever argument he wants to make.

Finally, he sighs—loud, frustrated, dramatic in that way only he can be.

"Okay."

The surrender in his voice shouldn't feel like a victory, but it does. Even as another cramp threatens to fold you in half.

"Okay," he repeats, softer. "Let me see if I can get you one. Just—wait here, alright?"

He wraps his fingers around your elbow, not gripping, just guiding, and you let him because walking feels like a monumental task right now. .

Focus. One foot, then the other.

There's a cushioned bench a few feet away. A kid sits at one end, maybe seven or eight, swinging his legs and staring at the floor with the bored expression of someone dragged to a museum against his will.

Jungkook walks you toward it, his hand steady on your arm.

"Hello," he says to the boy, voice gentler than you've ever heard from him. "Sorry, my friend over here is in pain and really needs to sit down."

The kid looks up—first at Jungkook, then at you—eyes widening slightly. He doesn't say anything, just scoots over, fingers drifting to his mouth as he continues to stare.

"Thanks, buddy," Jungkook says, helping you sit.

You sink onto the bench, the relief immediate but not enough. It still feels like someone's playing Operation with your insides, fishing out organs with a pair of rusty pliers.

Jungkook lingers for a second, hesitant.

"You sure you'll be okay if I—"

"Go," you grit out, not trusting yourself to say more.

He gives you one last look—concerned, frustrated, something else you can't name—before turning and striding away with purpose, disappearing around a corner.

And then it's just you, the kid, and the agony twisting through your abdomen.

Great. Fantastic. You can't even make it through one normal human interaction without your body staging a fucking rebellion.

Every time you try to—what? Be a decent person? Spend time with someone who isn't Yeji? The universe laughs in your face.

The kid is still staring at you, blue eyes huge in his small face. You force what you hope is a reassuring smile but suspect looks more like a grimace.

"Your face is becoming white," he says matter-of-factly.

"Thanks," you mutter. "I'm aware."

"Like a ghost," he adds helpfully. "Are you gonna throw up?"

Jesus Christ. This is your life now. Being assessed by a tiny human while your reproductive system wages war against the rest of your organs.

"No," you say, though you're not entirely sure that's true. "Just need some medicine."

"My mom says medicine is for when you're really sick," he informs you, kicking his heels against the bench. "Are you really sick?"

Another twist of pain, and you have to close your eyes for a second.

"Something like that."

"Is that man your boyfriend?"

God, children and their questions. No filter, just an endless stream of curiosity with no regard for social niceties.

You should lie.

Should say yes, it would be simpler than explaining the complicated mess that is you and Jungkook.

"No," you say instead. "Just a... friend."

The word still feels strange. Foreign. Like you're saying it in a language you barely speak.

"Oh." The kid looks disappointed. "He looks like a superhero."

Despite everything—the pain, the frustration, the growing concern that the gyno didn't warn you about this level of copper IUD hell—you almost laugh.

Because Jungkook? Oh he would fucking love that. His ego is already the size of Manhattan; the last thing he needs is child-based validation of his supposed heroism.

"More like a supervillain," you mutter.

The boy's eyes widen further. "Really?"

"No, not really. Just a regular person who's..." You pause, not sure how to finish that sentence.

Annoying? Complicated? Stupidly attractive even when he's being insufferable?

"...helping me out."

You press your palm harder against your abdomen, hoping the pressure will somehow counteract the pain. But truthfully, it doesn't. If anything, it's getting worse, spreading from your core outward until your lower back aches and your thighs feel weak.

This can't be normal.

Well, maybe it is.

You've never had an IUD before—what the hell do you know?

Clearly should've read beyond the first page of that pamphlet they gave you, but you were too busy trying not to think about the actual insertion part.

"I have lots of friends," the kid announces proudly. "But none of them are girls."

He wrinkles his nose like this is the most disgusting concept imaginable.

Despite everything—the pain, the frustration, the knowledge that this day is slowly derailing—you almost smile.

"Girls aren't so bad."

He shrugs, unconvinced. "They like stupid stuff."

"So do boys."

"Nuh-uh. Boys like cool things. Like dinosaurs."

"Girls can like dinosaurs too."

He considers this, head tilted.

"I guess. My sister doesn't though. She just likes her stupid boyfriend." The contempt in his voice is impressive for someone whose feet don't touch the floor.

You're saved from further insights into his sister's love life by Jungkook's return. He's walking toward you with a small paper cup in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, his expression still caught between concern and that strange new softness.

"Got you covered," he says, dropping into a crouch in front of you. "They had a first aid station. Ibuprofen and water."

You take the pills and water with hands that shake slightly, downing them quickly.

"Thanks."

He sits beside you on the bench, close but not touching—some sort of distance that feels both considerate and maddening.

You realize now Jungkook is not one to push boundaries. Not when they’re firm, not when you’ve made them clear. Like when you told him this thing between you two stayed between you two and he just accepted it.

"Should take about twenty minutes to kick in," he says, voice low and even.

You nod, focusing on your breathing.

In and out. Slow and steady. Just get through this. You've handled worse.

(Have you, though? Because right now it feels like your insides are trying to claw their way out.)

"We can go home," he offers, so subsided it's almost comical coming from him. "If you want."

"No." The word comes out sharper than intended, and you soften it with, "No, I'm fine. Just need a minute."

He doesn't argue, just nods like he expected this answer.

Of course he did.

He knows you're stubborn, knows you hate showing weakness, knows you'll suffer through just about anything to avoid admitting you can't handle it.

The silence stretches between you, but it's not uncomfortable. Not exactly. It's... waiting. Patient. And you note how his knee bounces slightly, the only sign of restless energy in his otherwise still form.

"Thanks," you say again, quieter this time.

He glances at you, surprise flitting across his features.

"For what?"

"For not..." You gesture vaguely, searching for the right words. "Making it a thing."

His lips twitch, almost a smile but not quite.

"It's your body, Nix. Your call."

Something warm and unexpected unfurls in your chest at that—at the simple acknowledgment of your autonomy, your right to decide how to handle your own pain.

He could push. Could insist on taking you home, on calling a doctor, on making decisions for you "for your own good."

It's what most people would do, have always done, their concern overriding your independence.

But he doesn't.

Just sits beside you, a quiet presence in the middle of this mess, respecting your boundaries even as his knee keeps bouncing with what you suspect is concern he's trying not to voice.

It's... nice. Weird, but nice.

The kid on the bench has gone quiet, watching both of you with curious eyes. His mother appears suddenly, a harried-looking woman with a museum map clutched in one hand.

"Aiden, there you are! I told you not to wander off." She gives you and Jungkook an apologetic smile. "Sorry if he bothered you."

"He's fine," Jungkook says, easy and casual. "Just keeping us company."

Aiden slides off the bench, taking his mother's outstretched hand.

“They're friends," he informs her solemnly. "But not boyfriend and girlfriend."

His mother looks mortified. "Aiden!"

"It's okay," you manage, fighting back a laugh that would probably hurt like hell. "He's just observant."

Aiden's mother drags him away, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he waves one last time.

And then it's just the two of you, sitting in silence on a bench in the middle of the MoMA like you belong there. Like this is normal.

All the while, the pain persists, still twisting through your abdomen.

Jungkook hums quietly—something soft and melodic that takes you a moment to recognize.

John Mayer. Of course it's fucking John Mayer.

Your gaze drifts to the floor, tracing the patterns in the polished concrete as another thought forms, heavy and insistent.

Should you tell him? About the IUD?

He's worried. You can see it in his eyes, the way his fingers tap restlessly against his thigh, the occasional glance he throws your way when he thinks you're not looking.

But he's not pushing. Not demanding explanations or insisting on taking you home.

Because that's not what he does.

He suggests, offers, hints... but never forces. Never demands.

Just accepts whatever you're willing to give, even when it's clear he wants more.

This morning he talked about being friends. About sharing things. About being more than just roommates who occasionally fuck and mostly argue.

Maybe this could be a first step. A tiny gesture toward whatever it is he's proposing.

But also...

Also what if you tell him and he smirks? Makes some stupid joke about how you wanted him raw that badly?

You know how quickly he covers discomfort with humor, how reliably he turns to sexual innuendo when a moment gets too real or too heavy.

And this moment is nothing if not heavy.

But overthinking it is getting you nowhere, and the silence is stretching too long, becoming its own kind of weight.

So you take a breath, summon what little courage the pain hasn't eaten away, and speak.

"I got an IUD." The words come out soft, hushed, almost hoping he won't hear them. "Wednesday."

His head tilts toward you, and you brace yourself. Wait for the snort, the smirk, the inevitable sexual commentary that will make you regret this tiny moment of trust.

But it never comes.

He just sighs softly, a small shrug lifting his shoulders.

"That's good."

Your eyes drift to him, confusion replacing the defensive tension you were building, because what does he mean?

He meets your gaze, then looks back at the photograph on the wall.

“I mean, it's good you're taking care of yourself. Your sexual health." Another shrug, this one smaller. "That's good, Nix."

Something in your chest loosens—a knot you didn't realize you were holding tight.

It's... not what you expected. Not from him.

Not from anyone, really.

"Yeah, well." You shift on the bench, wincing as the movement sends a dull throb through your lower abdomen. "Not feeling particularly great about it at the moment."

His lips quirk, not quite a smile.

"Pain that bad?"

"Like someone's playing Operation with my insides, but they're losing."

A soft laugh escapes him. "Fucking brutal."

"Pretty much."

Another stretch of silence, but this one feels different. Lighter, somehow. The pain is still there, but it's muted now, less all-consuming.

"Copper or hormonal?" he asks, voice casual like he's asking about the weather, not your reproductive choices.

You blink at him, genuinely surprised.

"You know the difference?"

"I do actually pay attention in health class, Phoenix. Plus, you know. Been with people who've had them."

"Copper," you answer, focusing on the question instead of whatever that feeling was. "I had a feeling hormones would mess with me."

He nods like this makes perfect sense. "Those are the ones that hurt more at first, right? Take longer to settle?"

Again, that surprise. "Yeah. How do you know that?"

"My ex." He shifts slightly on the bench, angling more toward you without actually moving closer. "She had one. Copper. Cramped like hell the first few months."

"Months?" The word comes out more alarmed than you intended.

His eyes widen slightly. "Not like, continuously. Just periodically. Mostly when she got her period. It got better though. Less intense over time."

"Great," you mutter. "Something to look forward to."

"Sorry." He winces. "Not helping, am I?"

"Not really, no."

"Do you..." He hesitates, eyes scanning your face like he's checking for warning signs. "Do you regret getting it?"

The question catches you off guard. Not because it's invasive—it's actually pretty reasonable given the context—but because of how genuinely he asks it. Like he really wants to know what you think. Not to judge, just to understand.

"No," you say after a moment. "No, I don't regret it. I wanted it. Chose it. This—This is just the shitty part. It'll pass."

"And this is something you want? Long-term?"

You nod, a little less certain than before but still sure enough.

"Yeah. I like not having to worry about it. Worth some pain now."

"Make sense. That's... smart." He tilts his head, that thoughtful look you rarely see crossing his features. "Planning ahead."

"One of us has to," you say without thinking.

His eyebrows shoot up. "Ouch. Direct hit, Nix."

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Nah, it's fair." He cuts you off with a small laugh. "I'm not exactly Mr. Responsibility."

The self-awareness surprises you.

"You're not that bad."

"I’m not?”

“Okay I take it back.”

He chuckles.

The pain stabs again, sharper this time, and you can't quite hide the wince. His expression shifts immediately.

"Need to move around? Sometimes that helps."

You consider it. Sitting here isn't doing much except letting you focus on how much it hurts.

“Maybe."

"Think the ibuprofen's kicking in at all?"

His eyes scan your face, and you wonder what he sees there. Probably not the composed, controlled person you're trying to project.

"A little. It's not as bad as before."

"That's something." He stands, offering a hand but not insisting when you ignore it and push yourself up on your own. "We could head to the next gallery? Or go back to the one with that series you liked—the urban decay stuff."

The fact that he noticed which photographs caught your interest earlier shouldn't feel significant. It's just basic observation. Nothing special.

But it does. Feel significant, that is.

"Let's try the next one," you say, taking a tentative step. The pain doesn't immediately floor you, which is an improvement. "Slowly, though."

"No rush." He falls into step beside you, hands shoved in his pockets in that casual way he has, like he's completely at ease no matter where he is.

You nod, trying not to think about the surprise dinner. Trying even harder not to think about the stupid Mayer vinyl you bought him and the fact that all his film bros will be there.

"Thanks," you say after a few steps. "For not being weird about the IUD thing."

He glances at you, something almost like surprise flickering across his features before settling into a small smile.

“Nothing to be weird about. It's your body, Nix. Your choice."

"Yeah, but." You struggle to articulate what you mean. "Most guys would make some gross joke or get all squirmy talking about it."

"I'm not most guys."

"Okay pick me boy."

“And here we go again.” He snorts.

“Hey, you’re the one who said that generic ass shit.”

"Uh-uh, so," he says, deliberately casual as you round the corner into the next gallery space. "How do you feel about Mayer?"

You groan, shoving him lightly.

"I knew it. I fucking knew you were humming that shit on purpose."

He laughs, the sound warm and surprisingly genuine.

"Gravity is a classic! You can hate on the man all you want, but you can't deny the music."

"Watch me."

And just like that, you're arguing about John Mayer in the middle of the MoMA, the pain still there but somehow less important than this stupid debate about whether "Your Body Is A Wonderland" is the worst song ever written or just mostly terrible.

It's strange. Unexpected. Almost... nice

Maybe this friend thing isn't completely impossible after all.

New York smells different right before sunset.

The city air mellows somehow. Still dirty, still chaotic, but softer now. Like the golden hour light filtering through the buildings is actually changing the molecular structure of everything it touches.

Or maybe that's just the ibuprofen finally kicking in and making life worth living again. Hard to say.

Your phone pings as you walk beside Jungkook, the busy street full of that weird liminal energy between work day and evening. People rushing home, people headed out, everyone caught in that transitional space of not-quite-done and not-quite-started.

It's Yoongi, his message simple and direct:

𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬🎧: 𝙷𝚘𝚠’𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔?

You glance at Jungkook, who's completely absorbed in his own phone, thumbs tapping absently against the screen.

Focused. Unaware.

Perfect.

You send back a quick thumbs up emoji, ignoring the follow-up questions Yoongi's already typing. The less you engage, the less likely you are to give something away.

6:30 PM.

Just over an hour until you need to steer Jungkook to the ramen place for his surprise. An hour to fill without either dying from secret uterine rebellion or accidentally revealing the plan.

You slide your phone back into your pocket and lean slightly to see what's so captivating on Jungkook's screen.

Not that you care. Just curious. Normal curious, not weird curious.

Instagram?

He's editing a photo—one of the abstract architectural shots he took at the museum when you weren't paying attention.

It's actually... pretty good.

The photo highlights the sharp angles of the stairwell, light cutting through the space in a way that transforms something mundane into something almost ethereal.

"You have a photography Instagram?"

He startles, immediately angling the phone away from you with the guilty reflex of someone caught looking at porn in public.

"Yeah, but it's nothing important. Just, you know. Silly stuff."

That's... suspicious. Jungkook doesn't do self-deprecation, not about things he's clearly good at.

He's the first person to brag about his skills, his looks, his whatever. The fact that he's downplaying this is weird.

"What silly stuff?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to peer around his shoulder at the now-hidden screen. "Show me."

"No, seriously, it's no big deal." He actually puts his phone in his pocket, which is basically equivalent to locking it in a vault given how attached he usually is to the thing. "Just a hobby."

"Since when are you shy about anything?" You nudge his arm with your elbow, oddly intrigued by this sudden reluctance. "Come on, I’ll show you mine, you show me yours."

"Not everything has to be an innuendo, Phoenix."

"That wasn't—" You stop yourself, because okay, that did sound suggestive. "Come on, I let you drag me through an entire photography exhibition. The least you could do is let me see your supposed 'silly' photography Instagram."

He's not looking at you now, eyes fixed somewhere to the left, scanning the street like he's searching for an escape route.

Then his face changes, relief washing over his features as he spots something across the way.

"Hey, wanna check that out?"

He points toward a small storefront wedged between a vintage clothing shop and a bubble tea place. The sign reads 'String Theory: DIY Jewelry & Crafts' in quirky hand-painted letters.

"A bracelet shop?" You follow his gaze, genuinely confused by the abrupt change of subject. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, why not?" He's already moving toward the crosswalk, clearly eager to leave the Instagram conversation behind. "Could be fun."

"Since when do you care about DIY bracelets?"

He shrugs, the movement a little too casual to be genuine. "Since right now. Come on, Nix. Live a little."

You narrow your eyes, suspicious of this sudden interest in arts and crafts, but follow him anyway.

 Because in all honesty… The distraction isn't unwelcome—you've still got an hour to kill, and arguing about his secret Instagram account wasn't exactly on your agenda for the day.

Plus, whatever he's hiding must be good if he's willing to make friendship bracelets to avoid talking about it.

You approach the shop, and it is small but bright, walls lined with colorful spools of thread, beads in every imaginable shape and size, and an assortment of charms that range from the typical (hearts, stars, moons) to the bizarre (tiny plastic dinosaurs, miniature food items, and what appears to be a collection of famous dictators' faces).

A twenty-something with purple hair and more piercings than you can count greets you from behind the counter.

"Welcome to String Theory! Let me know if you need help finding anything."

Jungkook nods in acknowledgement, already wandering toward a display of leather cords and metal clasps. You follow, still puzzled by this whole detour.

"So this is what we're doing now? Making friendship bracelets?" You pick up a spool of neon green thread, turning it over in your fingers. "Is this your way of making our friendship official? Should we be getting cards and flowers too?"

He snorts, examining a tray of silver charms with unexpected interest.

"If anyone's getting flowers in this scenario, it's me. I'm high maintenance."

"Yeah, no shit."

He glances at you, that familiar half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“We don't have to stay if you don't want to. Just thought it might be..." He trails off, shrugging again in that way he does when he's trying to seem indifferent.

"What? Entertaining? A good way to avoid showing me your Instagram?"

"Both." He picks up a small wolf charm, turning it over in his fingers. "But mostly I thought it might be fun. You know, do something with our hands that isn't..."

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"And there's the innuendo. I was wondering how long you could go without making it weird."

"About thirty seconds, apparently." He sets the charm down, moving on to a collection of colored stones. "So, you want to make something or not?"

You consider it.

On one hand, making bracelets seems like a throwback to summer camp or middle school sleepovers—not exactly your usual Saturday night activity.

On the other hand, you've got time to kill, and it's oddly... refreshing to see Jungkook interested in something so innocuous.

Plus, you're still curious about that Instagram account, and maybe if you play along with this diversion, he'll eventually let his guard down enough to show you.

"Fine." You grab a small plastic basket from a stack near the entrance. "But I'm not making anything with your name on it, so don't get any ideas."

"Wouldn't dream of it." His smile widens into something more genuine. "Though I bet you'd rock a ‘Kuko 4-Ever' bracelet."

"I'd rather die, thanks."

You move along the wall, selecting threads in deep blues and purples because they're pretty, not because they remind you of the way Jungkook's hair sometimes looks in certain light. That would be stupid.

"So," you say casually, examining a tray of small metallic beads, "are you going to tell me about this secret Instagram account or what?"

He sighs, the sound more resigned than annoyed. "It's not secret. It's just... separate."

"Separate from what?"

"From me. From Jungkook. It's just a creative outlet, okay? Nothing special."

"But good enough that you don't want to show me."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and there's something unexpectedly vulnerable in his expression.

"It's not that I don't want to show you. It's just... people get weird about it."

"Weird how?"

"They either think it's pretentious or they make too big a deal out of it." He moves to another display, this one filled with various charms. "It's easier to just keep it separate."

You follow him, curiosity piqued even further.

 Jungkook, who walks around the apartment half-naked without a second thought, who leaves his dirty laundry in the most inconvenient places possible, who has absolutely no qualms about sharing the explicit details of his sex life—this same Jungkook is suddenly shy about his photography?

"I won't make it weird," you offer, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your voice. "Promise."

He looks skeptical. "You make everything weird, Nix. It's your special talent."

"Fuck off." You snatch a small charm from the tray without really looking at it—something circular with delicate metalwork. "I can appreciate art without being weird about it."

"It's not really art. Just photos."

"Of what?"

He hesitates, fingers tracing the edge of a tray.

 "Mostly urban stuff. Architecture. Shadows. Light. Some nature." A shrug. "Just things I find interesting."

"That actually sounds cool."

He glances at you like he's checking for signs of mockery, then seems to decide you're being genuine.

"Yeah, well. Maybe I'll show you. Someday."

It's not a yes, but it's not a hard no either.

You'll take it.

"Cool." You move to the register, where the purple-haired employee is arranging a display of finished samples. "So how do we actually do this bracelet thing? I haven't made one since I was like, twelve."

"You think I have?" Jungkook laughs, setting his basket beside yours on the counter. "I'm flying blind here too."

The employee—Ash, according to their name tag—smiles.

“That's what I'm here for. What kind of bracelet are you thinking? We've got traditional friendship styles, leather wraps, beaded, charm..."

"Whatever's easiest," you say at the same time Jungkook says, "The coolest one."

Ash's smile widens. "How about a leather cord with beads? Simple but looks great."

"Sounds good," Jungkook agrees, emptying his basket on the counter. "Can we work on them here?"

"Absolutely. Let me set you up at the table in the back."

As you follow Ash toward a small workshop area in the rear of the store, your phone buzzes again. You check it discreetly.

𝐓𝐚𝐞🎨: 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢. 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝟾. 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒’𝚜  𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

You glance at the time.

6:45 PM.

Just over an hour left of... this. This strange, not entirely unpleasant detour into something that feels almost like friendship.

You slip your phone away before Jungkook can see, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that wonders what other secrets he might be keeping, and why you suddenly care so much about finding them out.

Ash sets you up at a small wooden table pressed right against the front window.

"So, what are we making?" Jungkook asks, already rummaging through his selection of beads like a kid sorting Halloween candy.

You don't answer immediately, an idea taking shape as you run your fingers over the threads and beads scattered across the table. Your eyes catch on the small containers of alphabet beads near the edge of the table, then drift to the vibrant collection of orange, red, and yellow beads in various shapes and finishes.

Perfect.

You pull the alphabet containers closer, fishing out specific letters: P, H, O, E, N, I, X. Setting them in a neat line in front of you, you reach for more: R, O, G, U, E.

Jungkook watches, brows drawing closer together as he pieces together what you're doing.

When recognition hits, he laughs—short and surprised.

"Okay, seriously? You're making Phoenix and Rogue bracelets now?"

You shrug, reaching for the orange, red, and yellow beads, arranging them between the letters.

"What? Hell yeah. We already branded each other, might as well make it something to remember each other by."

"You think I want to walk around with a bracelet that says 'Rogue' on my wrist?"

He looks genuinely baffled, like you've suggested he tattoo your face on his ass.

"I don't care what you do with it." You roll your eyes, already threading through the first bead. "I'm making mine."

He snorts, but instead of arguing further, he actually helps you sort through the letter beads, pushing the ones you need closer. Then, to your surprise, he reaches for the same fiery-colored beads you've been using.

"What?" he says, catching your look. "If we're doing this ridiculous twin bracelet thing, they might as well match."

"I thought you'd go for all black or something."

He shrugs, picking out a particularly vibrant red bead.

"Rogues can be fiery too. Besides," he adds with a half-smile, "these are my colors."

"Your colors?"

"Yeah." He lays out a pattern—red, orange, yellow, just like yours. "Warm tones. Bold. Kind of obnoxious if you use too many at once."

"Sounds like someone I know," you mutter, and he chuckles.

Your fingers work almost automatically, threading beads onto the leather cord. You're not being symbolic on purpose. It just looks nice.

When you glance up, Jungkook is staring at his own pile of beads, expression oddly distant.

He's rolling a small sun charm between his fingers, back and forth, like he's trying to make a decision.

"What?" you ask, because his silence feels weird.

He shrugs, the motion feeling slightly too forced on him.

"Nothing. Just..." He sets the charm down, picks up a red bead instead. "I actually had one of these. A bracelet. When I was a kid."

This feels like something—a small piece of himself he's offering without being pushed.

So you keep your tone light when you ask.

"Yeah? What kind?"

"Leather, like this." He picks up one of the cords, wrapping it around his wrist to measure before cutting it. "With these bright beads my mom found at some market. Reds and oranges, kind of like these. I wore it until it literally fell apart."

"How old were you?"

"I don't know. Ten? Eleven?" He shrugs again. "Young enough that it was still cool, not lame."

"And now?"

His eyes flick up to yours, then away. "Now what?"

"Is it lame now?"

His expression wavers, tightening around the mouth.

"Nah, it's whatever." He starts threading red and orange beads onto his cord, precise and quick. "Just not something guys usually wear, you know? Unless they're trying to be edgy or something."

"Since when do you care about what's 'usually' done?"

He laughs, but it sounds different than his normal laugh—a little hollow, a little forced.

"Fair point."

You work in silence for a few minutes, with some accompanying sounds; like the soft click of beads and the occasional muttered curse when you drop one.

A yellow bead rolls across the table toward Jungkook, who catches it easily.

"Thanks," you mutter as he hands it back.

"No problem." He pauses, looking at the half-finished bracelet in his hands. "I lied, by the way."

"About what?"

"My mom didn't find the beads." He keeps his eyes on his work, not looking at you. "I did. She just helped me put it together because I was too small to handle the clasps."

Something about the way he says it makes your chest tighten—like this isn't just a random childhood memory but something… soft.

Something he doesn't share often.

"That's sweet," you say, matching his tone. "You don't talk about your mom much."

He tenses, and you inwardly curse yourself.

"Not much to say."

That's a lie if you've ever heard one, but you don't push. Whatever this is—this small opening, it feels fragile. Like pressing too hard would make him shut down completely.

"Mine would've hated this place," you offer instead. "Too messy. Too handmade. Not enough structure."

His lips twitch, almost a smile.

"Mine would've loved it. She was always into this crafty shit. Had a whole room full of art supplies back when..." He trails off, shakes his head. "Anyway. How's yours coming?"

The abrupt subject change is obvious, but you let it slide.

"Almost done. Just need the clasp."

You hold up your creation for inspection. It's nothing fancy—just a simple leather cord with 'PHOENIX' spelled out in silver letter beads, filled with the fiery colored ones you picked.

But it looks kind of cool, in a childish, summer-camp sort of way.

Jungkook leans forward to look, his expression warming.

"Not bad, Nix. Very on-brand."

"Let me see yours."

He hesitates, then holds out his own bracelet. It's just like yours to match, with 'ROGUE' spelled out in metal letter beads. But he’s added a small sun charm that catches the light when he moves.

"Shit," you say, genuinely impressed. "Yours is way better than mine."

He shrugs, but you can tell he's pleased by the compliment.

“I have an eye for design. Part of my many talents."

"And so humble, too."

"Humility is overrated." He sets his bracelet down, reaching for the clasps Ash left for you. "Here, let me help you finish yours."

His fingers brush against yours as he takes your bracelet, the touch brief but somehow startling.

You watch as he attaches the clasp with surprising dexterity, tattooed fingers moving deftly, and it’s kind of attractive, really.

How good he is with his hands when he wants to be.

"There," he says, holding it out to you. "All set."

“Wait,” you announce, searching through the charms box.

You swear you had seen a rain charm earlier, and you had briefly snickered at it. But now that he’s wearing the sun charm it feels oddly… like yours needs to have the rain one, just to contrary him.

So you pick it up, add it to your bracelet.

And then you smile at him, show him.

He snorts.

You turn it in your hand. It feels solid, real. A physical manifestation of the nickname he gave you—the one that used to annoy you but now feels almost like a strange term of endearment.

Ash then approaches your table, a small fabric-lined box in her hands.

"All finished? Those look great!"

You both nod, holding up your creations for inspection.

"Phoenix and Rogue," she reads, smiling. "And they match! The fire colors work perfectly for both."

"Yeah," Jungkook says, and you're surprised by the hint of pride in his voice. "Kind of the point."

"Perfect timing, then," Ash says, setting the box on the table. "We're actually starting a new community art project. Would you be interested in contributing your bracelets?"

You frown, confused.

"Contributing how?"

"We're collecting handmade bracelets from customers to create a wall installation," she explains, gesturing toward a corner of the shop where several bracelets are already displayed on a corkboard. "It's part of our five-year anniversary celebration. Everyone who contributes gets a polaroid of their bracelet and a discount on their next visit."

"Oh." You look down at your bracelet, feeling an unexpected reluctance to part with it.

Which is stupid, because what were you going to do with it anyway?

Wear it?

That would be weird.

"You don't have to," Ash adds quickly, picking up on your hesitation. "It's totally optional."

"No, it's cool," Jungkook says, already placing his bracelet in the box. "I like the idea."

You glance at him, surprised again.

"You do?"

"Yeah. Creating something that stays here, becomes part of the place." He shrugs. "Better than it ending up in a drawer somewhere, right?"

There's something about the way he says it—like he's not just talking about the bracelet anymore—that makes you pause.

But then he's looking at you expectantly, waiting for your decision, and you place your bracelet in the box beside his, the matching colors side by side.

"For the record," you say as Ash takes a polaroid of your creations side by side, "I would've worn mine."

Jungkook's smile is slow and surprisingly gentle.

“Yeah?"

"Maybe not in public," you clarify quickly. "But yeah."

"Me too," he admits quietly, and it feels like he's sharing another secret—small but somehow significant. "Don't tell anyone, though. Ruins my image."

"What image? The one where you pretend to be cool but actually know an alarming amount about John Mayer's discography?"

"Exactly that one." He grins, the most genuine expression you've seen from him all day. "It's carefully curated."

Ash returns with your polaroid and receipt, both bracelets now part of the store's growing collection.

"Come back anytime to see them. They'll be here as long as we are."

"Thanks," Jungkook says, taking the polaroid and tucking it carefully into his wallet.

As you step back out onto the sidewalk, the city bathed in the deepening gold of late afternoon, you feel strangely light despite the lingering pain in your abdomen.

You reach for your phone to check the time, only to find your pocket empty.

"Shit," you mutter, patting your other pockets frantically. "My phone."

Jungkook stops mid-stretch.

"You lose it?"

"Must have left it in the shop." You're already turning back toward the door. "Wait here, I'll be quick."

"Want me to—"

"No, it's fine," you say, perhaps too quickly. "Just give me a second."

The bell chimes as you push back into the store, Ash looking up from behind the counter, eyebrows raised in question.

"Forgot my phone," you explain, gesturing vaguely toward the table where you were sitting.

"No problem. Take your time."

You move quickly to the table, eyes already scanning for your missing device.

Three minutes later, you're back outside, phone safely in hand. Jungkook's leaning against a lamppost, scrolling through something on his own phone.

"Got it?" he asks without looking up.

"Yeah."

You slip it into your pocket without checking the time.

"Ready?"

He pushes off the lamppost.

"Lead the way."

You start walking toward the subway entrance, mentally calculating the time. It must be around 7:20 now. Perfect timing to get to the restaurant by 8.

"Hungry?" you ask, as casually as you can manage.

Jungkook stretches again, arms reaching skyward in a motion that draws your eyes despite yourself.

"Starving. What did you have in mind?"

"I know a place," you say, already angling toward the stairs. "Trust me."

And the weird thing is, from the way he falls into step beside you without question, it seems like he actually does.

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© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[seungcheorry]

the heater is on, the floor isn't as cold as it should be when mingyu gets out of the shower. the smell of noodles - with the exact seasoning only you knows how to cook - invades his nostrils and goes straight to his stomach. it growls, and he looks down at his toned torso like a pregnant lady.

he did eat on his way back to korea, but can you blame him for being hungry once again already? when you're literally in his kitchen cooking his favorite dish, wearing his favorite perfume? for you, mingyu can even ignore the fact that you're terrible at surprises and that he unfortunately found the package you've been hiding in your drawer - he took a little bit longer in the shower because he was training his surprise face for when you give him the watch he's been talking about for a while now.

'oh, babe, you shouldn't have to' sounds more convincing than just a gasp and wide eyes, right?

he smiles to himself at the thought of you, trying to be so sneaky buying him a gift, with your big eyes and pretty smile. he sighs, choosing to put on his old red t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants instead of many of his fancy clothes.

deep down, mingyu knows he should do something. i mean, he's such a people's person - he's always so busy and surrounded by them -, perhaps that's how he should spend his birthday weekend too, right?

or perhaps that's exactly why he doesn't want to. he's so tired from traveling and performing and coming back home, maybe he deserves a good rest with you and only you.

with this thought in mind, and his towel over his head just like a kid and not like a 28 years old man, mingyu goes to the kitchen to find you stirring something.

"it smells nice", he comments, coming up to you.

"yeah? you want a taste?", you say, already grabbing a spoon and feeding mingyu some of your food. for a few seconds he just close his eyes, an overwhelmed smile in his face. "so?"

"best thing i've ever tasted in my life."

you laugh out loud, pushing him out of your way. "you always say that when i cook."

"and it's always true."

you roll your eyes, ignoring how mingyu basically puts his face into your pan so he can smell your food better.

"have you decided on your cake flavor yet? we should start baking or we gonna pull an all nighter in the kitchen."

"that would be fun", mingyu shrugs. "eating cake at 3am? count me in."

"it sounds nice, but you also need to rest. you spent way too many hours on a plane, baby."

again, mingyu shrugs. he walks up to you, adjusting his towel so he can see you better - you laugh, because the towel looks as if mingyu had the longest hair ever.

"i can rest tomorrow, it's my birthday and i wanna spend it with you."

"your birthday was yesterday."

"oh my god, you hate me so much..."

mingyu pulls you closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he pretends to fake cry. deep down he knows that, yeah, you could never truly hate him.

"big baby", you murmur, patting his back.

"always", he laughs like a little kid, wrapped around you. "age is just a number."

a/n: happy belated birthday to my pretty boy kim mingyu. i love you for sharing the same braincell as me, thank you for always making me smile and for encouraging me to be a better person, to try the things i want. i love you, mingoo, i truly do. ❤️🍒

[channieschaoscorner]

Looking After You - Maknae Line - Stray Kids x female!9th Member Reader

Pairing: ot8 x 9th member reader, like I’ve said before possible Chan x Reader if you squint, maybe Minho x reader if you squint a bit harder

Summary: As one of the oldest, you’ve spent so long looking after the boys, it’s their turn to look after you.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: Hi guys!!! Here’s the maknae line version of this, I hope you like it!!!! 💕 Also I 100% got absolutely carried away with I.N’s one but I also loved writing it so I really hope you enjoy it. I put a lot of emotion into this one. ✌️ Don’t be afraid to comment or message me with any feedback or thoughts on this. I welcome it all!!! ✨️

Hyung Line

Masterlist

────୨ৎ────

Han

To say you weren’t the biggest fan of airports would be an understatement.

You hated them if you were honest.

Between the stress of remembering everything, making sure the boys were ok, that everyone had their passports and then the crowds on top of it all? Hell.

At least when you were flying somewhere the crowds couldn’t follow you through the airport but landing was another story altogether. It was the reason that kept you awake, leg bouncing with anxiety at the unknown while the others took advantage of the time to catch up on some well needed sleep. You’d tried to keep yourself occupied with a film, reading, even just listening to music and staring out the window, but nothing would shift the uneasiness that had a grip on you. Only the fact that the plane had started the descent for landing, you managed to keep yourself strapped in your seat.

You barely even blinked when the plane landing, leg bouncing increased to full body fidgeting. You tied and then retied your laces, cracked your knuckles one, two, three times before Minho asked if you were trying to break them, checked your bag multiple times for your own passport before counting the others. You let Chan lead the way off the plane with the boys following, you waited until the end, letting your eyes run over the rows of seats getting off.

You’d never forget the time Jeongin left his headphones behind or the complaining that followed for the next few hours.

You waited behind Jisung as your passports were being checked, unable to stand still, you’d settled for shifting from one foot to the other in an effort to stay calm.

“Breathe.” He had turned around, eyes wide as he could feel the stress rolling off you. “We don’t know what we’re going out into.”

“Exactly. We don’t know what we’re going out to.”

“It might be ok.”

You didn’t answer that, it was never ok landing back home. Your brain was running on overdrive, thinking of what could go wrong and how you’d have to manage it.

Someone could fall over, get them back up, get them in the car and go home.

A fan could fall over, do you stop and help them? Keep going? There was no right answer there.

What if someone tries to hurt one of the boys? What if-

“Noona come on.”

Your spiralling is interrupted thankfully, but your nerves aren’t eased as you head towards the exit. You make eye contact with Chan, he raises an eyebrow. You know the silent question is if you’re ready to go out there, you nod in response and brace yourself for the other side of the doors.

Screaming. That’s all you can hear. Your vision is completely obstructed by the flashing of cameras but it doesn’t stop you from constantly scanning the people around you.

Just get them into the car. Get them to the cars and everything’s done then.

It was a mantra in your head.

You were aware of the jostling around you, the little security you had doing the minimum against the crowd. A phone pushed in front of your face and you moved around it. No matter how many times you were forced into this situation, you would never get used to it.

You weren’t sure when it all broke down and turned to complete chaos.

Maybe something happened further up that you couldn’t see, maybe Chan had made it outside and people realised they were missing their chance as you got into the cars. It could’ve been anything really. What you did know was the small barrier security held around you was there one second and gone the next.

Hands on you. That was all you could feel.

“Y/N!” You could hear someone shouting for you but you couldn’t see who it was. The crowd that had forced its way forward was beginning to suffocate you. You ducked your head and tried to force your way through but it was an impossible task. You could just about see the doors, hear what was obviously some of the boys outside shouting and arguing to get back in but you knew that would never happen. You were alone in this.

Alone.

The realisation that you were actually on your own in the swarming crowd of people gripped you and made you freeze. Someone bumped you and it made you turn to keep your balance which in turn meant you’d lost your bearings. You were stuck in an overexcited crowd of people that was pushing closer and closer to you with no sign of stopping, you couldn’t hear anything over the screaming now. Sweat was running down your back and your legs felt weak, like any second they were going to give way and you’d hit the deck.

“Y/N!”

You could just about spot Jisung trying to push his way to you, he hadn’t made it outside either before this had started.

People were pulling at him but they might as well have not been there with how much attention he gave them. His sole focus was on getting to you and attempting to shield you from the so called fans that had cornered you. He thrust his hand through the crowd towards you and you lunged for it. He gripped your hand tightly and started to pull you towards him.

One over-eager fan though, (if you can call them that) panicked when you started moving away from them and made an attempt to pull you back. Unfortunately for you, it was your ponytail that they got a grip on, so when they pulled hard you lost your balance completely and went down. You hit the ground and automatically curled in on yourself, not even trying to get back up. It would be an impossible task to push up through the people around you. You screwed your eyes up and wrapped your arms around your head, wincing when you could feel shoes in your back.

Back above the crowd, Jisung panicked. He had a hold on you and then you vanished back under the crowd. Fear shot through him, icy and cold. He moved without thinking, no longer careful. He was pushing and pulling, fighting to get to you.

“BACK UP!” His voice carried, shocking the people closest to him who moved back in fright. It didn’t matter to him though, he managed to force a space through and got his hands under your arms and yanked you up. He spun around and forced you in front of him. Security had managed to regain some attempt at control and had made a slight path for you to get to. The car was in sight and he all but pushed you inside of it.

You fell against the seat, aware that someone was talking but you couldn’t tune into it. The weight of what had just happened settling in you. You’d been so stressed about everyone else being ok that worrying about yourself had never been an option.

“What happened?!” Chan was wide eyed and jittery, barely able to explain that when he’d put Hyunjin, Seungmin, Minho and Changbin in one car that everything had kicked off inside and he couldn’t get back in, security had forced him and Felix into the second car and wouldn’t let them back in to help.

“It was insane. They pushed in and just surrounded us. I didn’t know where to go until I saw them cornering her.”

Your head dropped into your eyes and your eyes shut again, trying desperately to move past the feeling of so many strangers touching you and holding you back. You could hear the angry rantings of Chan demanding better security, Jisung explaining how they’d pulled you down to the ground and what you were pretty sure was Felix sniffling at the stress of the whole situation.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your leg.

“Are you ok?”

You nodded, barely able to speak. A lump had settled in your throat, you swallowed but even that hurt.

“Thank you for coming back to get me Ji.”

He blinked, “Thank you? You don’t need to thank me. I’d never leave you behind.” He took one of your hands slowly and gripped it tight. You linked your fingers between his and held on, matching his grip.

Chan’s voice carried across the car. “I am never letting you walk at the back again after that, straight to the front now. No arguments.”

────୨ৎ────

Felix

Social media was a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you loved being able to talk to your fans, see their comments and watch back their reactions to new music, concerts, videos posted. You loved that side of it. On the other hand, you could also see the opinions of people that weren’t your fans. Which described the rabbit hole you’d found yourself in now. Most of the time you could ignore it, brush it off and move on. Today was different though, you’d managed to find a whole account dedicated to campaigning for your permanent removal from the group. It didn’t matter to them you’d been there since debut, you never should have debuted with the boys in their opinion. Every single tiny flaw, mistake, error was highlighted and posted on their page, everything was wrong and even if you’d managed to do everything right, well then you could’ve been better.

It was a rare day off for you all and you pushed back the thought in your head that this was how you were spending it. Wasting your time on an anonymous account that spent more time analysing you than your own fans did. They spent so much time analysing you that they were a let to pinpoint all the areas on your body that had gained weight when you’d been on hiatus and not training as much. That was your final straw. You locked your phone and flung it across your bed, pushing yourself up and abandoning it behind you.

Your feet moved on their own accord, as if your body knew where to take you before your brain could catch up. You knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open.

Felix sat as his desk, headphones on, game on screen. “You ok?” He didn’t take his eyes off the monitors.

You opened your mouth but didn’t quite know what to say. “I can’t stay off a hate account and it’s driving me crazy” didn’t sound quite right.

“I just need some company.”

Felix side eyed you quickly, it didn’t take a genius to realise something was bothering you but he didn’t press further. He nodded and said nothing else. This wasn’t anything new, he had often come to your room late at night needing company when he was overwhelmed or upset but this was the first time you’d come to find him.

You pulled back the covers on his bed and climbed in, shoving pillows around until you’re comfortable and pulled your hood up over your head. You felt around the bed until your hand landed on a rogue Bbokari, you wrapped your arms around the plushie and curled into a ball. You listened to the faint sounds of Felix gaming and shouting when he lost, it kept your mind away from everything. This was peaceful. You understood why Felix wanted the escape of your room now, the change in bed and presence of someone else with you felt safe. Even though you weren’t speaking, knowing Felix was there in the room with you was enough. Your eyes had started to droop and you nestled down lower into the bed.

Felix spun his chair around once he finished, he wasn’t sure how long you’d been there but it was long enough for him to be hungry now. He stood up, wincing as his knees cracked from being sat for you long. He moved slowly into the bed, not wanting to wake you just yet. He settled down next to you, carefully moving the plushie out of your hands and slotting himself in your arms instead. You weren’t the biggest hugger but you’d become used to Felix sneak attacking you with hugs from the nights spent in your room when he didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t sure what was bothering you but this always made him feel better so he took a guess that it could help you too.

You woke up feeling so overheated that it took you a minute to realise what was going on. You understood why though when you felt the weight in your arms. You weren’t sure when but obviously at some point, Felix had slotted himself in place of the plushie and was cuddling that now instead whilst you held him. You smiled softly at the younger boy.

“Lix.” You scratched the back of his head gently.

He made a noise.

“Lixie, wake up.”

His eyes opened and then shut again. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to get some food, I don’t even know what time it is.”

“No we don’t.” As if on queue, his stomach started rumbling making you laugh.

“Your body says different. Come on.” You made a move to sit up, pushing past the whine and grabby hands that attempted to keep you in the bed.

“Come on.”

You could hear him objecting to getting out of bed but he still followed you nonetheless.

He took a seat on the counter while you dropped instant ramen into a pot. He kept a careful eye on you, trying to gauge your mood.

“Are you feeling any better?”

You stopped for a moment, considering your words.

“I don’t need to know what’s wrong.” He followed up with quickly. “I just want to know if you feel better.”

“Yeah, I feel a lot better. Thanks Lixie.”

He grinned at that, clearly happy that he had helped. It made him feel special that you’d been able to come to him when you weren’t doing ok and that he’d been able to cheer you up. It made him so happy that he nearly bounced back into his room when you showed no intention of returning to your own, you took your spot in his bed again, bringing your laptop and headphones with you so you could watch a film while he gamed. The silence and each others company was exactly what you had needed today, the silent support doing more for you than he would actually know.

────୨ৎ────

Seungmin

The arena was sold out, fans screaming, lights flashing. The stage was calling your name. You stared wide eyed in the wings, ready to rush back out there. It had been a long few months on hiatus and this was your first show since coming back. Excitement had consumed your entire being, unable to stay still, you settled for jumping on the spot with Jeongin, who was equally hyped about you performing with them again.

“You’re going to tire yourself out before you even make it out there.” Seungmin was leaning against a box, clearly judging the pair of you.

“No we’re not.” Innie retorted, sticking his tongue out.

“Maybe not you, but Noona’s getting pretty old now. She’ll be hyungs age soon.” Seungmin responded dryly.

Your jaw dropped. “Watch it, you menace.” You leg shot out but he dodged your foot with easy and moved away to a safer distance.

He couldn’t reply though, the staff rounded you all up to go on and before you knew it, you were running out onto the stage for the first song.

You felt at home on stage, performing came naturally to you. Your time off made you yearn for it even more, it felt warm under the stage lights and it was where you knew you belonged. It was why when you were halfway through the set that everyone had calmed slightly, you were still bouncing around the stage unable to stay in one place too long. You were waving and interacting with fans, posing for photos and videos, stopping to read posters. You’d been gone long enough that you wanted to show your appreciation for your fans now that you were back.

One poster though caught your attention and not in a good way.

Once you realised what it said you moved on fairly quickly, you didn’t catch the full thing but read enough to understand they weren’t happy you were back and wished you were still on hiatus. You fought to bring your smile back up and moved back across the stage.

It didn’t go unnoticed. Seungmin watched you freeze before composing yourself again from the other side, he couldn’t think what had made you stop. An emergency in the crowd maybe? No, you would’ve stopped the concert. He kept you in his peripheral when you moved in for the dance break, your smile had dropped and it no longer reached your eyes. To everyone else, the fans, the staff, nothing was wrong but he knew different. You were putting on a front right now and he wanted to know why.

At the next opportunity, he made a beeline for the side of the stage except he couldn’t see anything wrong. Nothing was standing out to him as a problem, but he knew you. Something had to have happened to make that much of a difference in your attitude. You’d gone from genuinely excited and happy to a stage version of yourself that you put on when you weren’t feeling it anymore. The difference was so stark that he blocked your path as soon as you got off stage so you could change.

“What happened?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something happened out there, I saw it. Tell me.” He pressed.

“Nothing happened Minnie, come on we don’t have much time.” You pushed past him and ran to your stylist.

He refused to let it go. Determine to find out what was going on, when you moved across the stage again he stuck close by your side. In fact,that nearly wasn’t enough. He almost missed it.

Almost being the key word.

He turned at the right second, his attention elsewhere in the crowd, too invested to let the issue go. He spotted to poster out of the corner of his eye, the reason he hadn’t seen it before was because it was only held up when you could see it. Your jaw tightened and you moved on. Seungmin didn’t. He ground his teeth, he couldn’t have them removed. Security pushing into the crowd to remove someone at the barrier would draw too much attention to this and you’d hate that. He knew that you’d tell him to just move on and let it go, don’t react, just ignore it. Ignoring would be the right thing to do, the mature thing to do.

Except when has Seungmin ever chosen the correct and mature way out of situation? He wasn’t about to start now.

He spun on his heel and made a beeline for the bottles of water and water guns that were dotted about the stage. He silently thanked staff for remembering the water gun specifically as he picked it up.

You were watching him carefully, all too aware he’d been following you around the stage, making good on his puppy nickname but when his attention had been directed somewhere else you’d stopped. You knew he’d seen the poster, normally you’d step in and tell him to leave the situation alone but you couldn’t deny the slight curiosity you had for wanting to know what he was about to do.

So when he took his place at the side of the stage and lowered the water gun that it was perfectly aimed for the fake fans face, you did nothing to object. The shot of water hit them square in the face, when they held up their hands to shield themselves, he aimed for the poster in their hands. The paper crumpled under the stream rendering it useless. You couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up and escaped, you clamped your hands over your mouth to try and mute it but your mic picked it up so it came out through the arena.

The other members turned to see what had you in hysterics but all they saw was Seungmin give you a wide grin, that absolutely meant he’d chosen violence in a situation but they couldn’t figure out what. They were none the wiser as you ran up to him and launched yourself onto his back, he said nothing and carried you back down to the others, grin unmoving.

He was allowed to be mean to you, but no one else.

────୨ৎ────

I.N

Jeongin wasn’t blind to how hard things had been for you. Between the hate online, your hiatus, getting swarmed at the airport, it wasn’t easy. It was why when he found out they had a concert on your birthday, he was determined to make it as special as possible.

“Happy Birthday Noona!” Jeongin burst into your room with a party popper, confetti bursting everywhere.

“Well that’s one way to wake me up.” You yawned. “Thank you Innie.”

“You need to get up, we made you breakfast.”

You hesitated for a second. “You all made it?”

Jeongin slumped. “We tried but Minho kicked us out the kitchen.”

You laughed as that sounded about right. “Ok Innie, let’s go.”

Jeongin had done everything right so far, he got you up for breakfast, ordered your favourite food for lunch and was being a complete pain in the ass to the others so much so that Minho threatened to spoil your birthday surprise if he didn’t chill out. This threat prompted a wrestling match in the boys dressing room as they were getting ready to go on stage that ended with Minho pinned down which left him no choice but to sink his teeth into Jeongin’s forearm.

“Yah, what is going on? I can hear you down the hall.” You pushed in through the door, you had your own dressing room technically but often chose to get your makeup done with the others, using yours only to get dressed in.

“Nothing.” Chan stated, fixing the others with a glare.

You narrowed your eyes but said nothing, completely forgetting about the incident as you fell into prep mode for the upcoming concert.

The concert had gone well, everyone had performed perfectly and you were so proud of the boys. You always were but being able to do what you loved with them especially on your birthday made it even more special.

“We actually have one more thing to do before we leave you tonight.” Chan started.

You looked at the others in confusion, wondering if you’d missed a schedule change.

“Someone very special here has a birthday!”

You groaned and covered your face with your hands, already feeling the heat creep up the back of your neck in embarrassment. You hadn’t expected them to pull this with you tonight. You uncovered your eyes to Changbin pulling over a stool for you to sit on which you indulged him in, you objected when Hyunjin whipped a party hat out from nowhere and wrestled it onto your head.

He pulled the string so it snapped against your chin.

You dug your elbow into his side.

He yelped and moved away.

Minho and Jisung had disappeared in the chaos and your embarrassment to reappear on stage holding a cake with lit candles.

“Happy birthday to youuuu.” Felix started, giddy with the excitement of surprising you but also at the fact that you were so embarrassed by the attention on stage.

You sat staring at them in shock as they got the whole stadium involved, you didn’t need to look at the screens to know that your face was molten red. You were never going to be able to move past this.

“Make a wish!!!” Jeongin cheers as you blew out the candles.

“What did you wish for?” Seungmin questioned.

“You can’t ask her that!” Jeongin snapped.

“Ok, ok.” Chan steps forward, wanting to prevent another possible biting incident from happening. “We actually have one more surprise for you, this was all Innie’s idea so you can thank him for this.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when they directed your attention to the screens, especially not with Jeongin’s face popped up in a recording.

“Hi Noona.” He waved. “I know that things haven’t been the easiest lately so I wanted to do something that shows you how much we appreciate you. So I’m going to start this off, I’ve always appreciated how patient you are with me. It didn’t matter how much you had to help me with dancing when I was younger or when I need help from you now, you’re always so kind to me and you never get mad so thank you” He moved to turn the camera off.

“Oh and happy birthday!”

*Camera cuts to Seungmin*

“So what would you like to say for Noona’s birthday?” Jeongin asked from behind the camera.

“Congratulations on getting old?”

“Hyung do it properly.” Jeonging whined.

Seungmin sighed. “Fine.” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable but also trying to his best. “You always look out for everyone, I know that we don’t need to worry about stuff as much because you always make sure that everything’s ok for us. We’re really lucky to have you.” He paused and looked over the camera. “Was that ok?”

“Perfect.” Jeongin grinned.

*Camera cuts to Felix*

*Camera cuts to Han*

“One of my favourite things about you is I know I can come to you with any kind of problem and you’ll listen, or if I’m having a bad day I can come find you and you’ll just let me hang out with you until I feel better. It’s really nice knowing I can come to you with anything no matter what. I’m really thankful I have you in my life, Y/N.”

“I think one of my favourite things about you is how sure you are of yourself, I always think about when we first met you when Channie Hyung told us that you were joining the group too and we didn’t know what to think of you. You were so confident about yourself and I remember thinking how much I wanted to be like that. I think you inspire all of us to be ourselves.”

*Camera cuts to Hyunjin*

Hyunjin spun in the chair, clearly thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. “You’re so kind to us and you always look after us but it’s more than that. I was so young when I met you, we all were. I think we forget that you and Channie hyung were just kids too and then suddenly you had the seven of us to look after. You stepped into that role so easily and never even questioned it. I’ll never stop being grateful for how much you love us and take care of us.”

*Camera cuts to Changbin*

“Ah where do I start? I have a lot of favourite things about you Noona. How much you love what you do, we can be in the recording studio recording lines and you’re sat in the corner of the room dancing. How fiercely you want to protect us from everything, you take on so much that we don’t even know about most of the time. How you get into arguments with the company when you don’t agree with what they want us to do. There’s too many things to choose from, I appreciate everything about you.”

*Camera cuts to Minho*

“Please Hyung, just something. It’s not for me, it’s for her.” Jeongin pleaded.

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’ve never had to correct you about Soonie, Doongie and Dori.”

Jeongin groaned.

Minho glared over the camera. “Get out.”

“What?”

“You want me to do this properly? I can’t do it with you staring at me.”

The scramble of the chair in the background and the door closing echoed on the camera as Jeongin made his exit.

Minho sighed. “This feels ridiculous.”

He looked at the camera. “Sorry.”

His fingers drummed on the table as he thought about what to say, he deliberately avoided eye contact with the camera.

“I remember being happy when I met you. I’d never met someone who was so obsessed with dance and I remember thinking that I could learn so much from you. I don’t think I realised how much you cared until we debuted. You didn’t cry when I was first eliminated, you just held me and told me that it wasn’t my fault and you knew I would do great things.” He hesitated. “You cried when we debuted, when it was announced I remember you crying and holding onto me, you couldn’t speak. You’d never cried on camera before, that was the first time you’d ever cried in front of us and it really shocked me.”

He cleared his throat. “You’ve always believed so much in me that I’ve never questioned if I can do something or not, because if I have someone like you cheering me on and believing that I can do it then I have no reason to doubt myself.”

“Hyung that was beautiful.” Jeongin’s voice carried through the door.

“Yah, you little-“

*Camera cut to Chan”

Chan fiddled with his earring. “I was supposed to do this earlier on but I got called into a meeting so I sneaked off to do this while you taught the others.” He laughed. “I’ve been distracting you all day with recording your lyrics so Innie could get this done, you’re going to kill me when you find out I made you re-record them for no reason.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure what I would do without you Y/N. Sometimes I think about everything that’s happened and I think what would I have done if I didn’t have you here to help me and I’m not sure I could’ve done it. I think you underestimate how much I rely on you sometimes, even when you can’t help me, you’re still there. You’ve been my best friend since we were teenagers, you’ve been a constant support in my life and the boys. I’ve watched you work yourself to the bone taking care of everyone, taking on problems so I don’t need to deal with them, and still managing to do your job on top of it all. I don’t know how you do it.”

He took a moment to rub his face, obviously emotional at admitting these things. “I’m so grateful that I met you all those years ago and that you decided you wanted to take on seven kids and an exhausted dad for the rest of your life, and I say the rest of your life because there is absolutely no way you can live your life without any of us now. We’re never letting you go.”

*The camera cuts to show different moments of you with the boys in recording sessions, dance practices, at home in the dorms. All moments they’ve recorded and given to staff to put in this.*

The video ends and you sit there stunned into silence. You can feel tears escaping your eyes and falling down your cheeks, they land in your lap leaving marks on your jeans. You can’t get any words out, the sheer amount of love that you feel for the boys overwhelms you. To know that this is what they think of you, this is what they love about you is the best gift they could’ve ever given you.

“Oh no, we’ve made her cry. She’s going to kill us.” You can hear Chan say to the crowd, but you don’t acknowledge that. Normally you would raise hell about crying in front of everyone but you can’t bring yourself to.

Your eyes find Jeongin. “You did all of that?”

He shuffled nervously. “I just wanted you to have a good birthday Noona.”

“This has been the best birthday.”

You try and stand up but almost fall over in the process, your hands find the closest person which happens to be Minho and pull him into a tight hug. It’s so tight that both of you can barely breathe but you don’t care. His arms are locked around your waist, head ducked into your neck and you can feel it. He’s started crying too but won’t show his face, he doesn’t cry in public either, you both actively avoid it.

You keep one arm tightly over his shoulders, your hand resting on the back of his head holding him there and reach out to the others. Felix joins you first, also crying. More arms cage around you until Chan joins at last. His arms circle round a few of the members, you make eye contact over Minho’s shoulder. He’s teary eyed but holding it together better than you are. He’s smiling wide, his attention solely focused on you, nothing could pull his eyes off you right now.

“Thank you.”

────୨ৎ────

Taglist: @m-325 @imeverycliche @mythicmochi @hynjnnie

[1d1195]

Chances

~5k words

From Me: It's been about 2 minutes since my last love at first sight story so I figured that was long enough for another one. Just a silly little thing.

Warnings: A tiny bit of smut. Also she's shorter than Harry (only relevant for 20 seconds, max). Other than that, should be fluff fluff fluff.

Summary: Airports are gross, overpriced, and extremely anxiety-inducing. She hates being there.

But it's also where she sits with a really cute guy who makes her feel like she's flying from the moment she looks at him and before takeoff even begins.

What was it about airports that were so romantic? Everyone knew how gross they were. A petri dish of diseases on every surface. Overpriced food and drinks. Not to mention the exorbitant price of books and magazines. Almost everyone passing through was stressed with worry about missing their flight, losing their bag, losing their kid, or personal items. She was one of them. Even with an hour and half cushion she was worried it would take off or something while she was going to get a coffee.

Which was perhaps why she didn’t notice where she chose to sit at her gate. All that anxiety festering and building in her that only the relief of flopping into one of the seats near an outlet would release. She put her coffee in the little cup holder, tucked her bag beneath her feet and placed the overpriced book on her lap.

Someone called out for another person making her head tip up at the noise.

It was fate. Destiny. Whatever corny thing a romance writer would say it was. But there were only so many places her eyes could fall, and they happened to land on him.

What was it about making eye contact with a guy her age at the airport that made her feel like she was in a Hallmark movie? He gave her a polite smile. One that was downright pretty. Too pretty to be on a man's lips and one that made her heart skip a beat.

Hence why she was thinking about the romanticism of the airport in the first place.

She sincerely hoped she returned his kind smile because at the very least she didn’t want to be rude. But it was all a matter of seconds; this little romance novel scene she was playing out. Her cheeks felt warm with a rush of blood to her skin before she dropped her gaze back to her book. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to do something crazy like profess how taken she was with him after meeting those stunning green eyes for half a second like the love at first sight she saw in movies.

But was that his gaze she felt heating up her skin? She refused to look up, but the words of her novel blurred together, and she could only think about how blue was one of her favorite colors growing up but green might have kicked that right out of the top spot in that moment.

*

Their flight was delayed which stressed her out beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even that long but if she didn’t have somewhere to be when she landed, she would have felt a lot better. She swore she was the last person to board the plane, and it only fueled her anxiety further.

But if it weren’t for the delay, her being last, or the fact that she was going to miss the rehearsal dinner for her friend’s wedding, the anxiety of seeing the hot guy from the gate was sitting next to her empty seat was surely going to give her a heart attack at the ripe age of her late twenties.

She felt her cheeks burning in recognition as he smiled again at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

That pretty face that was going to haunt her dreams for a lifetime. “Are you 12A?” He asked. The window seat, fortunately. His voice was warm and gentle.

“Yeah, sorry,” she bit her lip.

He chuckled standing in the aisle to get out of her way so she could get settled. “S’nothing t’apologize for.”

“I’m sure you thought you were going to have the row to yourself,” she sighed and placed her oversized purse on her seat so she could stow her carryon above her head.

“Allow me,” he offered and hoisted the bag to the storage space as if she hadn’t crammed a week’s worth of clothes and shoes inside it for only a long weekend. “S’okay. S’not a big plane. They said it was full.”

Stupid airports and their romantic goggles.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully and slipped into their row.

She noted all of his items were ready: a book tucked into the seat back compartment, a bottle of water stowed there as well, and his phone and headphones that he pulled from his pocket and placed on the tray once he was seated again. She fiddled with her bag, pulling out the items she wanted tucked into the spaces she had easy access to as well. Most importantly, she grabbed the travel package of disinfectant wipes to clean off her little home away from home for the next few hours.

“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” he smirked admiring her tidiness.

“I think Covid taught me that airplanes are one of the most disgusting places on the planet.”

He chuckled. “I suppose s’fair,” he nodded in agreement. “D’you have an extra one?” He asked. She nodded and held the little package out to her row-mate. He took two and repeated her routine to clean. The air vent, the tray table, the belt buckle and arm rest. He used the second to wipe down his headphones, phone, and book with a quick swipe. She held out a little sandwich bag she used for trash while on the plane. “Y’must fly a lot,” he smirked at her preparedness.

“Used to,” she took a deep breath. “I still get kind of nervous.”

“Honestly, would think y’were not human if y’didn’t get nervous.”

The announcements were being made and she focused on the flight attendants and their safety demonstration. Well, tried to. The man beside her was so handsome it was like he demanded to be stared at; it was hard not to comply to such a silent request. He looked effortlessly comfortable and so attractive it was unfair. But maybe it was those stupid airport goggles making her fall in love with someone relatively close to her age and perhaps he was only a little hot.

But as he reached for the air vent again, his sweatshirt sleeve slid down his wrist so that her eyes darted to his forearm and landed on the tattoo on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t even something she would qualify as a sexy tattoo, but it was there. As it appeared in her vision, all her dignity, self-respect, and thought of him being only a little hot, flew right out the window.

Stupid men.

The plane jolted a little as it started its take-off, making her gasp and she gripped the armrest tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as it settled into its rhythm. The final announcement that the ascent was going to begin came through the speaker and the plane got quiet as it always did at that time. “Hey, love?”

It was pathetic she recognized his voice already. Pathetic that she was going to respond to the little pet name. They had barely spoken. But the two little words were soft and sexy. In a gentle kind of way. She peeked out of one eye to glance at him. She swallowed thickly around the nerves. “Uh... yeah?”

“I can hold your hand, if y’want. S’just a tight grip y’got on m’arm,” it was so gentle. He didn’t even sound annoyed or pained. She gasped again, released his arm from her goddamn death grip, and covered her mouth. How fucking embarrassing. She didn’t even notice.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No, s’fine,” he assured her, his smile was so kind. Like she was a wounded bird that he found after it flew into the window. “Here,” he offered pulling her hand from her mouth and laced their fingers together. “M’not a fan of takeoff either,” he explained giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Did he feel how perfectly their hands fit together? Or did she imagine it? These airplane goggles were thick as hell. She was fucked when she got off the plane and never saw him again. They were silent during the remainder of the ascent and once the bell signaled that they could unbuckle, the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Harry gave her hand a squeeze again before releasing it.

“Thank you,” the sincerity in his voice made her blush and she was glad it was dark on the plane and the flight would remain dark. Because if she had to see how pretty his face was for the whole flight, she wasn’t going to make it. It was unfair that someone so handsome was seated next to her and she would never see him again. Someone who was thanking her for holding her hand. After she tried to rip his arm hair out.

Did his hand feel cold? Her hand felt cold. It was so ridiculous she just wanted to scream.

She had the worst luck.

*

Harry had the best luck. The pretty girl from the gate was in the same row as him. He got to hold her hand. The flight was only five or so hours long and the thought of it being delayed was miserable. But there she was looking so unbelievably beautiful.

There’s a REALLY pretty girl at my gate. He texted Mitch the second he saw her.

You better not be creepy. Sarah says there’s NOTHING worse than a guy being creepy at the airport.

I’m not going to make my soulmate uncomfortable. I’m just going to ask her every question that pops into my head to get to know her, and then ask how many kids she wants to have with me.

...Best of luck to her.

I’m probably not even going to talk to her :( She looks busy and what are the chances she’ll be sitting next to me? There’s no way I have that kind of luck.

But Harry did have that luck it seemed. The pretty girl was tucked into their row against the window, her head resting against the side of the plane. She was clean, organized, and adorable. He liked how she spoke to the flight attendant. Like she was a hinderance by being a passenger. It was sweet and he admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was so grateful when Harry handed her the little bag of pretzels and the drink she got.

“Reading something good?” She asked quietly.

Harry smiled and held it out to her so she could read the back cover. “Something m’sister recommended.”

She intently read the words on the back and nodded. “I think I’m going to add it to my never-ending list.”

God, he wanted to say he could give it to her when he was finished. But he was never going to see her again. So maybe he didn’t have the luck he hoped he did. “How ‘bout you?”

“Um...” she smiled. “It’s nothing... intelligent. It’s a brain-rotting romance thing. I don’t know, I like to read trashy stuff on the plane. Take my mind off it and everything else.”

“I see,” he didn’t ask Gemma a lot of questions, but he knew that meant it was filled with spicy romantic scenes that he could only dream about with someone as pretty as her. But that would be what Sarah called creepy, so he pushed that thought away quickly. “M’not a huge e-book person.”

“They’re good for travel,” she smiled. “I love bookstores, and I think I could build a whole house out of the books I have or want to buy. But traveling... it’s nice to have something compact. But I bought a book at the convenience store before we left. Which is so dumb because the mark up is like an extra ten dollars and I could have gotten it for free on this thing but the Wi-Fi is a bit of a problem sometimes, like I can’t get my new book to—” She paused as Harry listened intently. It was so disarming listening to her talk about books and her e-reader. It was adorable. Her eyes, even in the faint glow from the emergency airplane lights, were lit with excitement. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No!” He frowned, shaking his head hurriedly. He immediately missed the excitement in her eyes. “Y’weren’t. I never thought ‘bout how the traveling is easier with it. I had t’forgo a whole outfit t’get m’books in m’bag.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “I always do that. Except I’m sure you felt how heavy my bag was, I didn’t do it this time. I told myself I wasn’t going to overpack and I just couldn’t do it.”

“M’sister has a hard time with it too.”

“It’s impossible, I think. Especially for an event, you know?”

Was Harry still smiling? He couldn’t stop smiling. She just had this air about her. The air between them was vibrating and it wasn’t because of turbulence. She had to feel it, right? Harry couldn’t be imagining this electric feeling that was pulsing between them. They were just sitting there, staring at each other.

“Can I say something crazy?” He asked.

“Crazy? Are you planning on murdering me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I jus’...” he paused and scanned her face memorizing the moment wondering how on earth he could meet her again. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have a plane ride back with her. But there couldn’t be that much good luck. “This is a bit...” he trailed off and he chuckled. His face was only inches from hers. She bit her lip.

“Yeah... it is.”

“S’crazy, right?”

She nodded. “It is,” she whispered back.

“Hi,” he said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi,” she giggled.

*

When the plane began its descent, he held her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It made her stomach flutter. As they left their little row, her heart hammered in her chest. How unfair it was that she would never see him again. He grabbed her bag from the compartment above and he walked with her all the way to baggage claim. They chatted a little more. Smiling and giggling. She didn’t even realize he was still holding her hand.

At least the airport goggles were working both ways it seemed.

“You let me go on and on about overpacking and you checked a bag?” He smirked, grabbed her hand again and led her toward the rideshare pickup spot. “Can I say something crazy?”

“Are y’planning on murdering me?” He asked.

“You felt it right?”

“Felt what?” The smile melted off her face and she dropped his hand like it burned her. “Whoa, hey,” he laughed and snagged it quick into his again. “S’bad joke,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. “Course I felt it.”

She looked at her feet. The seconds felt like hours as she looked for something to say. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she frowned looking back at him.

“Yeah...” He sighed. “It’s...” he sighed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell him. They needed more time, more space.

She wanted to live on that plane.

Harry wanted to stay at that airport.

She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It was crazy. Outlandish. Ridiculous. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. He smiled on her mouth making her want to melt. His hand found her lower back, pulled her closer because in just sneakers she couldn’t reach his lips completely. With her firmly in his embrace, he nipped at her lower lip. It was so sinful she shivered.

The honking interrupted their moment, pulling each other apart. “I have to go,” she whispered looking at the Uber that matched the license plate listed on her phone.

“I know.”

“Hi,” she whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Hi.”

“It was... really nice meeting you,” her smile was so goddamn pretty it was going to make Harry cry.

“It was nice meeting you, love,” he answered. Safely tucked her into the back of the cab. She unrolled the window.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry,” he said.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Nice meeting you, Harry.”

*

“You have outdone yourself,” she smiled as she turned. The woman before her had a stunning smile, her hair half pinned, her white silk pajamas shimmering in the light. “They’re stunning.”

“You’re one to talk, I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to mess anything up,” she wrinkled her nose. “You love them?” She asked.

“I love them. They might upstage me.”

“I sincerely doubt it. You look stunning already.”

“Do you hate me for not making you a bridesmaid?”

“God, no,” she shook her head. “I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of person anyway. If you need anything today, I’m your girl,” she promised. “I was too far away,” she shrugged.

“Don’t remind me,” she frowned. “These flowers are the things of dreams. You are the best,” she sighed dreamily. “Can I see my bouquet?” Her frown quickly turned into a smile again. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”

She went to the bucket that was at the edge of what would be the ceremony floor and pulled the bouquet from it. She felt so proud and happy with the arrangement she made for one of her long-time best friends. “Seph,” she smiled. “You look beautiful,” she reminded her.

Persephone grinned admiring the bouquet. “You’re incredible... How was your flight? Other than delayed?”

“It was...” she tried to think about anything but the color green. “Good.”

“Oh?” Seph’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arched suspiciously “How good? Did you join the mile high club?”

“Oh my God, Persephone, of course not.”

“Well, you don’t say good like that if he’s not cute.”

A slight pause as she looked at the ceiling and then back at her friend. “He was really cute.”

“You’re a walking Hallmark movie.”

“That’s literally how I felt.” They giggled then she sighed thinking about the kiss she shared with a stranger. It was so unlike her to get all in a twist about a guy she just met. This wasn’t normal. It was like she was still in the airport. There were so many things they didn’t talk about. So many things she didn’t know about him and never would. It was unfair and yet she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she was still flying. Shaking her head, she turned to her friend once more. “Alright, I have to finish these flower arrangements. Not sure if you know this, but there’s a wedding happening here tonight.”

“Sorry about your airplane man, babe,” Seph squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey, no frowns. It’s your wedding day,” she turned back to the table she was working on before her friend’s interruption. “I think some moments are meant to just... exist in that moment.”

*

Harry had thought about only three things that day. Breathing, cake, and of course the beautiful girl he met on the plane.

You KISSED her?! Sarah asked.

I know... I’ve never met anyone like her.

That’s a real bummer, Harry, honestly. It was and Sarah was right. At first, he was joking, but now he was certain she was his soulmate, and he just let her go. But what choice did he have? Yes, there was the feeling of his heart beating faster. The excitement of making her laugh. But there was the calmness, the tranquility of being beside her. Holding her hand.

Maybe it was morbid, but Harry was certain he was looking for someone to hold his hand if the plane were to go down and maybe that’s what a soulmate really was.

It was easy. Easy to talk to her, make her laugh. It was easy to get to know her and he didn’t even know anything about her. He didn’t know where she was from, what she did, where she was going, but he just knew that she was his and he let her go. There were too many variables. Too many things he couldn’t control.

“Harry, you almost done?”

“Jus’ putting the finishing touches,” he mumbled.

“We’re going to be late!”

“They won’t start without us,” he rolled his eyes.

“If there is a speck of—”

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” he shook his head, coming to the other room and brushing his hands along his coat. “Let’s get married, yeah?”

*

The maid of honor talked about how lucky the pair of them were to find one another. How there were an infinite number of opportunities for them to not have met but there was this special moment destined for each other. Where Persephone would walk into the library to sit in her favorite study spot and if she wasn’t so superstitious she would have just found another table.

But instead, she walked right up to the table, told her future husband he was in her spot, and she was preparing for an exam, and she wouldn’t let him use her favorite seat.

The best man spoke about how he was actually destined to be with the groom for forever and ever which made the entire place laugh.

But talk of luck and destiny just made her feel miserable on the inside. If she asked for his number or where he lived, it would be hours from where she lived. She would be devastated. A kiss was a good ending to her little story. That would suffice.

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. That would work too. Something to make her feel like a horrible person and lessen the blow that her soulmate was somewhere out there never to be seen again. Harry was just a guy that held her hand on a plane and talked about books with her for hours so she wouldn’t be scared. Someone that split his snacks with her even though she didn’t know him.

No. She couldn’t think about him. She had to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t good for her brain or her heart.

It was a beautiful ceremony. That’s what she needed to focus on. Persephone was a gorgeous bride and the event was just... perfect. “I think I’ve given your name and number to just about every single woman here,” Seph said sliding into a seat beside her and kissed her cheek.

She laughed. “Well thank you,” she smiled. “Let me see,” she held her hand out for the one with her new jewelry and she admired the pretty diamond that glimmered alongside the new band of diamonds below it. “Everything is beautiful.”

“This place is beautiful because of you. Just like you said.”

“Oh... it was beautiful before. I just added to it.”

“I didn’t see it though. It’s a bargain if you can envision it like this. I seriously wouldn’t have picked it without you saying you’d do the flowers,” Seph explained. “You saw so much more than I did.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a place on earth that doesn’t benefit from flowers.”

“Well, thank you,” she squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t be having a wonderful day without you. I know it was a lot to travel out here and—”

“No, no. Don’t even. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Flowers or no flowers.”

Persephone grinned. “Well... in other news... do you see anyone as cute as your airplane man? Lerone has a lot of single friends.”

She smirked and shook her head. “No offense, Seph, but there is no one that’s going to be as cute as my airplane guy.”

“No one?”

Her head snapped up to the voice that she had already planned on dreaming about for the rest of her life. Her eyes met the same green gaze she had the pleasure of looking at for five hours while chatting about books and whispering about nothing of importance (but it all seemed important at the time). There was no way. She didn’t have this kind of luck. If there was a squeaky carriage at the grocery store she was sure to pick it. There was no way that—

“Hi Harry!” Persephone smiled. “Do you two know each other?”

“Something like that,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hi,” Harry grinned at her.

She cleared her throat, adrenaline flowing through her body. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Harry baked our cake. He went to school with Lerone.”

“Oh,” she swallowed.

“And I heard y’did all the work with these pretty flowers,” Harry smiled.

“She’s like the flower queen,” Persephone giggled.

“I see.”

There was a pause while they stared at each other. Harry grinning like a madman, he was sure. But she was stunning. A floral dress draped her body, her hair half pinned up. She was so pretty. Somehow even prettier than the way she looked on the airplane and Harry was certain she could never be prettier than the moment she sat next to him.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Hi,” he chuckled.

“Of all the gin joints.”

Harry took a seat beside her. Persephone had moved onto the next table and yet, she hadn’t even noticed. “I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you, love,” he grabbed her hand. “Been thinking ‘bout the plane, y’e-reader, and that earth-shattering kiss.”

Her cheeks heated up and Harry reached out to brush his thumb on her cheek. “This is insane,” she whispered.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I don’t have luck like this,” she explained. “I’m the kind of person that has their luggage get lost. Or my coat will snag on the doorknob. If I didn’t want to be paired with someone in a group project in high school, I could guarantee I was going to be in their group.”

“Y’think it’s lucky you’re meeting me?” He practically wiggled his eyebrows. Trying to sound egotistical but all it did was make her fall harder for him.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Well...yeah,” she swallowed. “I mean... what else am I supposed to call it?”

“It doesn’t have t’be luck. Can jus’ be meeting you.”

“I don’t think it works that way for me.”

“Can I dance with you?” He asked.

“I’m not very good and I think there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes and—”

Harry was already helping her stand and tugging her to the dance floor. She did step on his toes, not hard, but her quiet “sorry” was lost on Harry. It felt perfect to hold her in his arms. One hand in his, her other at the back of his neck, his free hand on the small of her back. They fit like puzzle pieces. “A florist, hmm?” He hummed right by her ear.

“A baker?” She replied.

He chuckled. “What are the chances?”

*

“D’you have any idea how good y’look?” He groaned. She was in just a T-shirt. Harry’s T-shirt. He propped his head in his hand as he looked at her laying in his bed. His finger skimming just below the hem of the shirt. It barely touched her thighs and the only thing that stood in his way was a scrap of fabric she called underwear.

She giggled. “Back at you.”

“This is insane,” he smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

“It is,” she whispered.

If all her bad luck had been to make this weekend happen, she was forever grateful. This was worth it. Harry was worth it. “When’s your flight?”

“Quarter of five. When’s yours?”

“The same, of course.”

She smiled and tucked her face into his chest. “How far away are you from my shop?”

“Only ‘bout a half hour drive,” he told her. “Why?”

“Just... wondering.”

“Jus’ want t’know how much time and distance is between you and a toe-curling orgasm?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I wasn’t talking ‘bout you,” he peppered a line of kisses down the side of her face and along her neck, down the curve of her shoulder, even when the T-shirt got in the way. “You are so pretty,” he mumbled pulling at his shirt to touch her soft skin and curves. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so pretty.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, I’d remember you,” he smiled pressing his lips to her collarbone. He pulled the shirt off her and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples softly. Making them perk up more than they already were with the cold air from the room and no barrier between her. “Definitely remember this,” he mumbled into her skin.

“I have to pack,” she whispered but her voice was air and her resolve wasn’t there.

“Put it in m’checked bag,” his lips were occupied by one of her nipples making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. “Jus’ shove everything in there. Then s’a promise I’ll see y’after we land.”

Her heart fluttered. “You want to see me again?”

He popped his head up from licking at her like she was candy. The air was even chillier against the sensitive skin without Harry’s warm mouth wrapped around her. “M’sorry, was I not clear?”

She smirked. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about airport goggles.”

“Airport goggles?” He repeated.

“I have really bad luck, Harry. I just worry that the idea of me in an airport because I’m roughly your age... or like, you know airplane food is a real thing? Not just a joke? Something about the altitude messing with your tastebuds or something. So maybe this is all an illusion, is what I’m saying. Maybe I am really unlucky because when we get back to our real life we won’t have airport goggles and—”

“Kitten,” he chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her lip. “Shh,” he whispered and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “I hear you. But m’telling you, there’s no such thing as airport goggles. Even if there are, m’never taking them off.”

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[thechaoticcherub]

More Than Air

Pairing: Dad!Joel x female reader

Summary: The power is cut in your apartment in the Boston QZ, your dad, Joel wants to keep you warm and teach you a few things.

Warnings: 18+, Incest, DDDNE(dead dove do not eat), Legal age gap, Dubcon, daddy kink(?), Virgin!reader, Joel is REALLY icky, innocence kink, male masturbation, fingering, bordering on size kink, emotions, lots of feelings, pet names, reader is not described besides having boobs, hair and a vagina, no use of y/n.

notes: OOF. Okay I'm diving head first into this. This is an icky, gross, incest fic and I'm not sorry. I'm going to get hate for it but eh, I write whats fun and idc if it disturbs people...when it comes down to it, you have to take responsibility for what you consume. if this isn't for you, move along and thats fine. Don't come whining to me about how you hate it. anyway! I hope that if this is your jam, you enjoy! Also: obviously, I do not condone this in reality. Fiction is fiction and doesn't hurt anyone.

Also I'm going to thank my friend @strang3lov3 for being my dad!joel buddy and giving me the guts to keep writing him.

Word Count: 5k

The first time Dad actually crossed a line with you was a year into living in the Boston QZ. You had never known you could feel such a strange mix of emotions; anger, disgust, excitement and a deep, abiding admiration and love for the man who had been your maker and savior. Joel had been finding himself deeper and deeper into the smuggling world here in Boston but you only knew this because of what you had picked up from others, and what you overheard. Joel closed you out of that part of his life, which was his whole life, and only told you what was absolutely necessary. 

Before the night where everything changed, shifting into a different and more confusing plane of existence, there had been little moments that sent shivers cascading through your body. His eyes lingering on your body when you scamper to your room from your shared bathroom after a chilly shower. Joel had noticed the way your shirts fit you, taking note that you really weren’t his little girl anymore,

“Aint ya got a a shirt that covers you more?” He asked while you sat at the table and ate your plain, gloopy oatmeal. 

“It’s the end of the world, Dad. My choices are pretty limited,” You responded. You watched his eyes slip down, noticing where your shirt gaped and showed off your cleavage. 

“Just…never realized what a woman you are now,” He commented, sipping his coffee as he unabashedly examined your chest. You tugged your shirt up, and pulled a face at the comment,

“Don’t say that, Dad, ’s’weird.” You said, but there was a small part of you, a part you didn’t like to look at too closely that liked that he had noticed. 

There had even been a time where  he came to wake you up one morning and waited around while you started to get changed. You had urged him to leave, 

“Dad, I’m changing!”

“I’ve seen it all before, kiddo.” He griped, leaning against the doorframe and watching you peel off the sweatshirt you slept in and turn away from him so all he could see was your back. You shifted uncomfortably, you had always been a little innocent, too trusting, gullible almost but this just felt wrong. But even in the wrongness of it you found a spark light up inside you that made you arch your back a little when you hooked your bra behind your back, knowing his eyes were on you.

“You don’t need to make sure I get dressed, I’m not a little kid.” You mumbled as he turned back to him, pulling your shirt on over your bra.

“Cut me some slack,” he said, “You’re always goin’ to be my little girl,” He smiled as you crossed your arms over your chest and stalked towards the door. Joel grabbed your waist as you passed him and squeezed, making you giggle. 

But before the night that FEDRA cut the power to your block of apartments it had never really crossed a line. He had never touched you or done anything of the sort. Maybe if it hadn’t been a cold winter night whatever tension that had been building in your father wouldn’t have snapped. Maybe if FEDRA hadn’t been needing to conserve energy you would still be the completely innocent girl you once were. Maybe it just came down to this being cordyceps fault, like everything else. Daddy would have just been a word you had called Joel growing up, sex would have been something you learned from a college boy, fumbling in a dorm, not from the broken man you called father. 

No use dwelling in what ifs. It was the what ifs that would kill you if you let them in this infected and decaying world. 

There hadn’t been a complete blackout since summer and it was an especially cold winter night so it didn’t take long for the whole apartment to chill when the power went out. But it wasn’t until around 2 AM when the cold in your room became unbearable. You were shivering under the weight of two quilts when your door opened,

“Dad?” You asked, turning your head to look at the broad shape of your father in the darkened doorway. 

“It’s too cold to sleep alone, babygirl, scoot over.” He said. You immediately felt uncomfortable at the idea of sharing a bed with your father. You never would have thought twice about it in the before times but things had felt so different, so shadowy, and strange now. You moved over to accept Joel into the space next to you. 

“Why did they do this now?” You whined, as Joel lifted the quilts, causing cold air to rush in. He slid his big body into the space next to you. 

“I dunno, darlin’ to torture us but I’m sure they’d give some bullshit explanation like conserving energy,” He griped, settling down close to you. You had a double bed which was plenty big for you but now with Joel it felt tiny and his body felt inescapable. You swallowed back your anxiety and reminded yourself that this was your dad, the man who had raised you and protected you, saved your life on many occasions. There was no real reason to be scared of his touch. 

You started to relax and even as you did, you wondered if you were so tense because of him or because of you. You were lying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, cursing your own feelings as Joel jostled in the bed more,

“Make some more room, hon, you ain’t that big you don’t need to hog.” He said. You grumbled and rolled over onto your side, facing away from him. 

“It’s fuckin’ freezin,” he added, tugging the quilts up higher. You felt him turn so he was curled towards you, scooting closer, you could feel his front pressed into your back. He was warm, delightfully so, you couldn’t help but tuck yourself close to him. “Atta girl,” he breathed, reaching up and brushing your hair back away from your face so he could see you a little better. You hummed out a soft noise as you finally felt comfortable in the bed, his warmth mixing with yours to make it decently pleasant under the covers. “You jus’ go to sleep while your old man tries to finally warm up,” Joel half laughed. You smiled and let your eyes drift closed. 

Waking up, you thought it must have been close to morning but as you opened your eyes finally you realized it was just as dark as before and the apartment was quiet. Your dad was behind you still, his hand had made its way to your belly, his big fingers stretched out,  thumb just under your breast bone, pinky reaching down towards your belly button. He had you in a possessive grip, fingers digging into your flesh. As you struggled out of your hazy sleep state you could feel rapid motion behind you. 

Your whole body stiffened and Joel’s grip tightened on you, you knew what he was doing behind you, you could feel the jeans he had laid down to go to sleep in were unbuckled, the hand not on your tummy was tucked into his pants and he was touching himself. And now he was aware that you were awake,  you started to try and move away from him, wanting to get out from under the blankets despite how cold it was outside. Joel’s hand tightened on your stomach and he pulled you back towards him,

“Don’t you go anywhere, sweetheart. It’s too cold out there,” He breathed, as if he wasn’t touching his dick right behind you, as if he wasn’t your father masturbating while holding onto you. Your brow knit in confusion but at the same time, your body warmed even further. There was heat in your cheeks that was mirrored in your belly, the low down part of your belly and even lower than that, the part of your body that had rarely been explored and had been left abandoned due to the apocalypse. 

“Dad!’” You gasped out as he held you back. 

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” He said, and his voice sounded truly regretful. “Just let Daddy do this,” He said, he tugged you back and you felt your butt pressed into his crotch. You were jostled by his hand moving inside his pants. You let out a nervous whimper,

“Dad, this…this is weird-“ You tried to swallow back the feeling of strange need you had, the need to experimentally push your hips back and feel him more. 

“I know it feels funny, I’m sorry.” Joel breathed into your ear, his hand speeding up. “But I’m just…just lovin’ on you, peanut,” He spoke. You twisted yourself so you were laying on your back again, staring up at the ceiling. Your heart hammered in your chest and you couldn’t parse out what was disgust and what was excitement rising up inside of you. Your lower lip trembled, it was overwhelming to feel so many things all at once. Joel must have noticed your glassy eyes,  and your trembling lip because a calm came over his body and he tugged his hand from his pants.

“Babygirl,” he reached up and took your chin in his fingers, “Don’t cry, I’m sorry.” While he still sounded truly remorseful for his violation, it didn’t seem like it was the end. You wanted to be upset that you could tell more was going to happen but you couldn’t help but notice relief wash through you. You wanted more and that thought horrified you. 

 “I’m sorry, but you do have to learn this stuff sometime…and who better to teach ya than your old man?” He leaned over you and pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek. You had felt him kiss you so many times, your lips when you were a very little girl, your cheek, the top of your head, and forehead as your grew up but this felt so different. Like a lover places kisses against the skin of their paramore, not the way a father loves his daughter. It both made you cringe and tingled, adding to the warmth in your belly.

“Daddy,” You said, your voice came out sounding weak and whiny, not like the voice you typically used, even with him. You hadn’t called him ‘daddy’ since you were small, and now you were grown up and the childish word sounded horribly sexual in your mouth.  You were unsure of your every move, you questioned all of your feelings but Joel seemed so sure of himself, even as he apologized, as if he knew this was bad behavior but it had to happen. Joel reached under the blankets to the hem of your shirt and started to tug it up, you instinctively put your hand on his to stop him,

“Shh, peanut.” He said, “I’m just goin’ to take a quick look. I know it can be scary, but you’re my brave girl, aint ya?” You watched him smile encouragingly. He was so handsome and it warmed you through so you loosend your grip on his hand. Joel pulled the shirt up to expose your naked breasts to him, the air in the bedroom was frigid so goosebumps erupted on your chest, puckering the skin around your nipples and making them harden. You shivered and whimpered. Joel scooted closer to you, “Lets just get this off of you,” Joel murmured, barely speaking to you, just mumbling the words to himself as he pulled the shirt off of your head. 

“There’s my girl,” He said. “Ya know, I ain’t seen your whole body since you grew up, darlin’” His fingers dragged down your chest and excitement and heat bubbled up and then the shame squashed it a little. Disgusting. Terrible. Naughty but needed. Joel looked down at you, you could barely meet his eyes, but he didn’t seem to mind, he was examining your chest. “Didn’t realize just how beautiful the girl I made was,” his fingers traced over one of your nipples, circling the hardened point. You shuddered at the feeling and he smiled at your reaction. 

“Dad,” You said, your voice trembled over the word. “This feels-“ He cut you off by pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” He said, “Daddy’s jus’ got to give you a little lovin’ so you understand,” he said. You wanted to tell him that you did understand, that you didn’t need to understand anymore but your body was betraying you because his fingers did feel good and the heat in your tummy was building. “Plus it’s still so cold, and if we get undressed we’ll get warmer,” he convinced. Undressed? More undressed than this? Did he mean he wanted to be naked too? The thought of your dad, in your small bed, pressed so close to you made you feel so many emotions you couldn’t focus on one in particular.

Joel’s pants were already undone, it was easy for him to slip them off and you watched, unable to stop him as he did so, lifting his hips to get them down his legs and then kicking them off. You could feel the heat of his lower body now and you knew there was the heavy presence of his cock right next to you, almost pressed into your pajama clad hip. 

Joel was lying on his side, his eyes roaming over your bare chest, he moved closer and closer to you until he was wedged against your side. Your dad’s dick was pressed into your side but you hadn’t looked. You hadn’t turned your head towards him. You couldn’t, you felt like if you looked at him, this would all be real and you would have to actually face it.

It was getting warmer and warmer under the covers and you wished so badly you didn’t love the feeling as much as you did. Joel reached out and his big hand cupped one of your tits, “Fuck,” Joel breathed as his fingers dug into your flesh, dimpling the skin under his fingers. “Let’s get your pajama pants off of you, babygirl.” Joel rolled over so he was on top of you, he pushed your legs open enough to accommodate his body between them. You whined and closed your eyes, it felt too wrong to look up into the face of your dad while he was just in his dirty flannel shirt, his cock out, so you found every excuse to keep your eyes away. 

“Look at me, peanut. Look at your Daddy,” He told you. Your heart skipped a beat, making you squirm in pleasure and embarrassment. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him, his eyes were wild, his hair was a mess and you knew if you dropped your eyes you’d see his cock hard and angry with need. Joel seemed like a man possessed. Possessed with a need for you, his daughter, his sweet little girl. In the darkest corners of your mind, you loved that. You loved you could make him look like that. 

“Lift your hips up,” He instructed. You pressed your hips up and felt his fingers dig into the side of your pajama pants and underwear, he gave them a tug, pulling them off of you. The cold air hit your body and you shivered. “I know it’s cold,” Joel whispered. “We’ll warm up together,” Joel told you. Your brow knit,

“Daddy,” you whined, squirming underneath him and closing your legs. “This is embarrassing,” You mumbled. 

“No,” Joel said, his voice turning stern. “Don’t be embarrassed of your pretty body, Daddy’s going to appreciate every inch of ya,” He took your knees and pushed them open more, eyes glued to your pussy. You squirmed at the feeling of his gaze on your most intimate part and you looked up at him, trying to convince yourself that this was so wrong, that you needed to push him away and say no but you didn’t want to. You wanted to feel him. The desire for him was too strong. He was familiar, strong, everything a man should be and you wanted him. No matter how much you wished you could fight it off, no matter how much you felt disgusted by him, by your own needs, you wanted to explore his body. 

“You ever had an orgasm, babygirl?” he asked, his fingers dragged from your knee down your thigh towards your bare pussy. You were taken aback by the question, orgasms weren’t something you thought about anymore. You felt a little anger that he felt like he could ask that question, but you were naked and splayed out in front of him, of course he felt like he could ask. You didn’t say anything, “C’mon, peanut. You can tell Daddy the truth, I won’t be mad.” He encouraged. 

“Yes, just by myself,” You told him, “Not for a long time though,” You tried to remember the last time you had felt like this, this rush of excitement, wetness building in your core and heat burning through you.

“Poor girl,” Joel rubbed over your hip and stroked the backs of his fingers down your pubic bone, feeling the hair there, stroking over it. Your heart felt like it was going to stop at any second. Like it would beat so hard that it would just explode from the fear and longing that was working you up into what felt like a frenzy. “Daddy can help make you feel better,” he huffed as he scooted down a little to get a better angle to touch you. 

Joel’s fingers slipped over your slit and you realized how wet you had gotten from your own fucking father, everything felt like it was melting away from you. You felt like you were losing sight of reality, partially because it felt so good and partially because of how horrible it was that you liked this. 

Joel tsked under his breath as he gathered your wetness on his fingers, “God girl, you make a mess a’yourself like this often?” He asked with a chuckle. The sound of it eased some of the fear in you, it felt familiar to joke with him, even though his touch like this felt so completely unfamiliar. 

“N-no,” you managed. You shivered again in the cold air as his other hand joined the one  stroking your slit and gently started to spread your lips open. You instantly squirmed at the feeling and tried to close your knees. 

“Aw c’mon, peanut, your daddy wants to see what he’s doin’, it’ll feel good.” He coaxed your legs back open and you whined in a feeble protest,

“But Dad, it’s…I’m-“ 

“None of that bashfulness shit, you think I’ve never seen a pussy before?” He asked. You opened your mouth but he cut you off, “How the fuck do ya think you got here?” That shut you up instantly.  You let him spread your pussy lips open, his eyes focused on your wet cunt spread out in front of him. 

It was so cold in the room you were thankful that your feet were still tucked under the blanket but the rest of you was covered with goosebumps, even your pussy started to get the little bumps as you shivered, despite the heat inside your body. 

“That’s my good girl,” he purred as his fingers started to stroke up and down you spread pussy, not quite touching your clit but grazing around it. He knew exactly how to touch you, he knew exactly what you needed in each second. “How’s that, peanut?” He asked, looking at your face twisting in pleasure and then back down at your pussy that he was keeping spread open and softly stroking. 

“So…s-so good.” You squeaked out, pressing your hips up, wanting him to stroke your clit properly but knowing he was doing everything with the clear purpose of working you up. 

“That’s right,” Joel nodded, “Daddy’s got ya,” he said. “I knew you needed some lovin’” he breathed. The pad of his pointer finger grazed along your clit and it made you convulse, you felt so sensitive there, it had been so long since you had given it any attention. Joel chuckled, “That your special spot, right there?” he asked, teasing around it again. You whined, unable to form words as he teased your clit. He knew it was your clit, he could see that but him confirming that it was special wormed into your brain. He understood that was how you liked it, that your favorite, your special favorite, was having your clit gently played with. 

“Dad,” You moaned, you reached out to him, wanting to grab hold of any part of his body. You came in contact with his bare knee and you dug your fingers into it. 

“I know,” he said, “It feels good, don’t it?” he asked around a smile, you nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. His fingers lovingly stroked around your clit, teasing you, bringing you closer and closer to a release you hadn’t felt in so long. You were so close, teetering there on the edge of bliss but then Joel pulled his fingers back, dropping his other hand too, leaving you desperate for more. 

“Daddy!” You whined out, you wondered if he was doing this on purpose, making you ask for an orgasm from your own father. You watched his familiar features turn to worry at the whine in your voice,

“What is it, honey?” He asked in mock concern, he knew how frustrated you were, how much you wanted to come and he was teasing you anyway. 

“I-I…I want more-“ you whined, pressing your hips up, it was harrowing to admit it outlaid. You watched Joel nod, the look of fake concern still plastered on his face. 

“I know you do,” he half laughed, breaking through the concern. “Daddy’s still got stuff to teach ya,” He stroked down the lips of your pussy again to your entrance. You stiffened again as you felt him starting to push his middle finger inside of you. “I know it’s tight, babygirl.” His dark eyes met yours and you tried to express everything you were feeling to him through just a look. Joel had always been able to know what was wrong with you at just a glance and he had always been there to take care of whatever the problem was. You wanted him to understand the uncertainty, the desperate need and the horror at your own desires. When your eyes met, he softened slightly at the sight  of the expression,“I’m sorry,” He said and you wondered how sorry he actually was. Was he sorry for teasing you? For making you need it? For all of it? “I just wanna be the one to teach my little girl all this,” he said, his voice was rough and earnest but his finger nudged again at your entrance. “It’ll probably hurt a little but I’ll go slow for ya,” he started to push his finger into you again. There was a little pain, but you were soaked and his finger slipped in fairly easily. Your cunt stretched to accommodate the thickness of your father’s finger and you longed for more at the same time as you wished you had the will to push him away. “I know, babygirl.” He said, trying to placate you. “C’mere, give me a kiss, it’ll make it feel better.” He leaned over you while his finger worked its way inside of you and pressed his lips to yours.  Your heart lept into your throat. The thrill of a kiss that was so utterly forbidden was too much. You were a revolting girl. Revolting for how much you liked it. You found yourself kissing him back while he worked you open with his finger. Joel pumped his finger in and out of you, your cunt tightened around him with each thrust. You moaned into his mouth, lips parting enough for his tongue to press inside of your mouth, teasing your tongue.

“Dad,” You said as he pulled back, “Dad, it feels so good,” You said it like you couldn’t believe it, like if you didn’t get more you might go completely insane. Joel stroked your cheek with his free hand, 

“I know, I’m goin’ to make you come around my fingers.” He assured you. You nodded, looking down between your bodies, his cock was hard between his legs, neglected while he paid attention to you. You had never seen a cock in real life before, your mouth hung open as you looked at it. At the same time, Joel’s thumb nudged against your clit, sending a spasm of pleasure through you. 

“Daddy,” You gasped, Joel noticed your gaze on him and he chuckled. 

“You see Daddy’s cock?” he asked. You nodded, your mouth hanging open in awe at it. Joel let his free hand drop to his cock and started to stroke it, showing it off to you. His cock was so big, imagining it inside of you made you squirm against his finger. Joel kept pumping his finger in and out of you, curling it up to stroke you from the inside while his thumb stroked over your clit in tantalizing circles. It was overwhelmingly good and now you couldn’t take your eyes off the mesmerizing sight of your father stroking his cock up and down, lavishing attention around the dusky head. Joel laughed again and your eyes snapped up to his face,

“You want your daddy’s cock, dont ya?” he asked. You squirmed, you couldn’t admit it, that was a horrible, disgusting thing to want but you couldn’t deny your body’s reaction. “Awww,” he laughed, “I can feel how bad you want it, peanut. You’re clenchin’ down on my finger- oh are you goin’ to come?” Joel was surprised by the way your face twisted, the way your whole body tightened. “C’mon, tell Daddy,” He growled. You nodded, unable to form words anymore as his finger filled you up repeatedly and his thumb teased your clit. “That’s my good girl, daddy’s got ya,” he breathed. The tension inside of you snapped, like spring finally releasing and you came around his fingers, gasping, the heat from your cunt seemed to spread up, enveloping you as you started to shake through your orgasm.

“Oh god, Daddy!” You moaned, watching now as Joel touched himself in earnest. “Daddy…daddy I wanna…” You started to babble almost incoherently, “I want your co-cock, Daddy, please give it to me—I…I need it.” You whined, not even fully realizing what you were saying. Tears pricked your eyes as you admitted your most shameful thoughts. Joel seemed to love the sound of you pleading with him, his hand tightened on his cock, pumping it up and down above you. He sat up on his knees and you desperately reached out for his cock, but your needy fingers were met with his hand closing around your wrist. 

“No, no, no, little girl.” He said. “Not yet. Your little pussy isn’t ready for Daddy’s big cock yet,” he explained. You let out an angry whine and wanted to hide away from him, to reel back from him in frustration. As if reading your mind, he reached out and grabbed your hip, “Nuh-uh, stay right there. I want somethin’ to come on,” He growled. Your lower lip trembled, you felt so disgusted with yourself and still so needy that sob built in your chest. It was threatening to burst out, but you didn’t want to ruin it for him. Tears spilled out of your eyes as Joel continued to work his hand up and down his cock. 

“Aw poor girl, I know Daddy’s bein’ mean,” he fucked into his own fist, teasing you with the visual of his cock gliding in and out of his hand faster and fast.  You watched Joel’s facial expression change, tiny micro-expressions of pain, lust, desperation, anger and intense desire flitted over his features, or maybe it was just feral need. Determination to find his orgasm, but the words he choked out next made you sure there had been moments of real pain in his expression,

“I’m s-sorry,” He actually sounded sorry, sorry for so much. Sorry for the world that you were living in, sorry that his pain and suffering had turned into darkness that had nursed a need for you, his daughter. His heart, soul, flesh and blood.  Sorry that he had decided it was time to act on it. Sorry that you enjoyed every depraved fucking second. “You goin’…goin’ to look so pretty with my come painted on your tummy,” he groaned and watched him squeeze around the head of his cock and direct it down as thick ropes of his spend spilled out over your tummy and pubic bone. You let out a sob as he groaned through his pleasure. “Fuck,” he breathed as you cried. “I’m so sorry, babygirl. Let Daddy hold ya,” he said even as he came down from his own high. 

“Aw, peanut, you’re freezing,” He said as he wrapped his arms around you and gathered you up. He kissed the side of your head, “Daddy’s sorry, so sorry. Felt so good.” He shuddered and tugged the quilts up around the two of you. You took a deep breath of his familiar, comforting smell and allowed yourself to relax against him, he squeezed you tighter as he felt you relax. 

“Do you love me, dad?” You asked, unsure of why you needed the reassurance more than anything now but you asked and waited for his answer. 

“More than air, peanut.” He breathed. 

“I love you too,” You said even as your naked body warmed against your father’s under the quilt and his come dried on your skin.