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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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the back-up plan | jjk

summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.

💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot 💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) 💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist 💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions 💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer and friend, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖

sunday.

Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?

But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.

Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.

You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.

The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.

You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 PM Happy ‘almost 30th’ birthday.

You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?

You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM 🤣🤣🤣 You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.

You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

“What do you want, Kook?”

“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.

“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.

"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."

"Bye–Kook."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."

"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.

"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"

You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"

💖💖💖

Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.

“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”

Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.

“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”

“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”

“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”

You wave him off. “Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”

“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.”

He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.

“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”

You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?

“You’re so dumb.”

“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”

You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.

“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”

💖💖💖

You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”

Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”

But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.

“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.

Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.

No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.

Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.

You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”

It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.

Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s nothing serious.”

You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.

“Just saying,” he adds.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.

He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”

Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”

He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”

You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.

“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.

“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?”

“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”

“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.

Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”

“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”

He’s not going to let this go, is he?

You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”

What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?

“Deal.”

💖💖💖

monday.

Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.

It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.

You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.

“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.

You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.

The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?

You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.

“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.

“That’s me.”

And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.

Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”

You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.

Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.

“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.

You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.

“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.

“Top left above the sink,” you say.

He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”

And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.

Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”

You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.

A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.

You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”

He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”

He’s cute, you think.

“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.

Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.

“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.

“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.

“Right side next to the oven.”

“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”

“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.

It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.

💖💖💖

“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.

A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.

“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.

This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.

You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.

“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”

He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”

The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.

“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.

Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”

“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”

“You’re into rom-coms?”

“I love ‘em.”

“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”

“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”

You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”

“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”

He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.

You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”

He chuckles, not saying a word.

You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.

The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

💖💖💖

tuesday.

You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.

When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.

The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.

Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”

He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”

A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”

“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”

Oh, this is bad. Really bad.

He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.

“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”

“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.

“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”

After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”

“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.

You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.

💖💖💖

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM Wanna do a movie night today? We could watch Wedding Season.

You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.

You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.

It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.

He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.

"Ready for movie night?"

It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.

"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Come here."

He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.

He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”

“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.

Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.

Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.

“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.

He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”

Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.

You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.

You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.

“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.

He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”

You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.

Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.

You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”

“It’s cute.”

You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.

“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.

You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”

“No tattoos?”

Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.

You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”

“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.

“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”

A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”

“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”

Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.

“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”

He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.

You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”

Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.

Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?

You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.

As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.

Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.

Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.

“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.

Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.

“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”

Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”

Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”

Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.

Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.

This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.

If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.

But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.

There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.

wednesday.

Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place.

Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.

He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.

As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.

And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.

That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.

See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.

You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.

You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.

Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.

Shit—maybe he had company over.

He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.

You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.

Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.

“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”

“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”

You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.

His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.

Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.

“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”

“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.

Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.

“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.

“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”

“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.

“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”

“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”

“I’m an art curator.”

That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.

“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.

Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.

You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.

“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.

He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”

You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”

Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”

The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.

You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.

But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.

As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.

“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.

Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"

"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.

Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.

"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."

He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.

And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else.

"How'd it turn out?"

You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."

"Ah, I'm sure it was great."

"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."

"Next time, we can do it together and fail."

He wants to do everything with you, huh?

You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."

He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.

"Cool guy."

He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"

Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.

"I think I want the birth flower for September."

Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"

"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.

"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."

"Oh–I like that idea."

He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"

You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"

Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.

“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”

“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.

“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.

You hum in agreement. “Night.”

“Night.”

Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.

Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.

Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.

thursday.

The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.

Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.

You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”

He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”

He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.

“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”

Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”

You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”

“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.

To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.

You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”

“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”

You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.

“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.

What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.

Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.

He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.

His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.

You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.

“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.

“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.

You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.

You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”

“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.

“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.

You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”

“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”

“Can’t handle a little torture?”

He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.

The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.

An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.

You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.

He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.

You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”

Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”

He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.

“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”

You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.

You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.

Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”

You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.

He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”

You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”

Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.

Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.

“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.

Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.

You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”

He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”

You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”

Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.

“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”

He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”

“So, you’re okay if I see him?”

Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.

“Are you upset with me?”

“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”

His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”

He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."

You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal.

Is he serious about this?

Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?

“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.

“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.

On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.

But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.

Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.

When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.

“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.

He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.

His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.

“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.

Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”

You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.

It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.

Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.

When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.

You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.

Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”

You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.

“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.

He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.

So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?

For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.

When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.

A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.

He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”

Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’

Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.

Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.

Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”

“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”

Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”

Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”

“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”

“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”

Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.

“I know it sounds ridiculous!”

Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”

He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.

Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.

Decisions. Decisions.

friday.

Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.

He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.

What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.

He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.

When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.

Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?

He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”

“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.

“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.

You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.

“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.

Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”

You hum. “See you soon.”

Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.

“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.

You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.

“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.

His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”

When the door shuts, you wince.

Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.

The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.

An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.

“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.

The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.

You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.

Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.

“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.

He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.

“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.

“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”

You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.

[ frida castelli, milan ]

It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.

Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”

Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.

“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.

“I like that position too,” he adds.

You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.

"Should we keep looking?"

After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.

“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.

You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."

He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."

You nod.

"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"

You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."

Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."

"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."

Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.

Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.

He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.

“Do that again,” you whisper.

His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.

First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.

“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away.

Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”

He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.

You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.

You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.

Maybe he could be the one.

It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.

You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these? [ 5 images attached ]

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.

This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?

And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?

But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.

Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.

saturday.

The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.

You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.

It’s Jungkook.

A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.

You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.

“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”

You shake your head no.

“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.

When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.

“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”

“Bonner,” you correct her.

You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.

Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”

You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”

Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.

“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”

She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”

You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.

Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”

You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”

“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.

“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.

You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.

“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.

You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”

She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”

“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”

“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”

“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”

Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”

You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.

“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.

Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.

He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.

This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.

His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.

He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.

"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.

“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.

Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.

Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.

Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Remember Jimin and Theo?”

Hoseok hums.

Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”

Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”

“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”

Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”

Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”

Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”

You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.

The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?

Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.

It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.

“There’s the birthday girl.”

When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.

He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.

It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.

As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”

You shake your head no.

“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.

“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.

“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.

“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”

Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”

You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.

“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.

You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.

“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”

You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”

Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.

She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”

What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.

You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.

Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.

The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.

You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.

He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”

Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well?

You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.

“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”

“Surprise me,” you say.

“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.

As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.

You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.

“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.

“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.

He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.

Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.

“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."

Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?

"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.

"Two Pink Cadillacs."

You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.

"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.

You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.

"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.

"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."

Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?

“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.

“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”

Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’

“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.

Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”

Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.

He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.

Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”

Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”

“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”

It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?

He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.

Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.

It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.

He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.

Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.

He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.

There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.

Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”

Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.

“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”

“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.

Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”

Namjoon gulps.

“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”

“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”

Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”

“What conversation?”

“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”

There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”

Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.

“Oh.”

Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.

“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.

He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.

Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.

“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”

“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”

“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”

You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”

You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.

“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.

“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”

You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.

Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.

“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”

Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.

With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.

Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.

You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, about us.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”

A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.

“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.

“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.

There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”

Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.

“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.

He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.

You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.

“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”

Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."

You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”

He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.

“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.

You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.

“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.

Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.

You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”

You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.

There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”

“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”

The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”

You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.

“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”

“I’m not—”

“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”

"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.

Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."

"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.

"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."

Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.

Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.

Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.

Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.

Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.

sunday.

It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.

He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.

Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.

He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.

The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.

It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.

With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.

Three knocks strike your door. No answer.

He gives it another moment before doing it again.

And nothing.

He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.

Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?

Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.

Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.

Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.

Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”

The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He turns back and hums.

“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”

Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”

A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”

“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?

“Two years.”

“You have more history with her than I do.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”

Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”

“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”

He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.

What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?

He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.

You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.

Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.

It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.

Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.

"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.

"What's that?"

"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"

You lower your head. "Yes."

Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”

You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”

“I think it’s cute,” Namjoon chuckles, sitting beside you.

Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.

“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”

“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”

He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”

You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.

Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”

“But?”

“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”

It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.

“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”

The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.

You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?

This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.

If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?

The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?

How would you get out of this mess?

monday.

A notification ding shows up on your phone.

[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]

Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.

You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.

The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?

When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”

She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.

“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.

“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”

You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.

A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.

A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.

"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.

You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”

“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.

“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.

“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”

"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."

"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"

You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.

“See anything else you like?”

“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.

Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.

“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.

“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.

“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”

Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.

Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.

You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.

You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.

With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.

The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.

Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.

“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”

“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.

You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.

Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”

You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.

While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.

You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’

Was it dedication or delusion?

You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.

You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.

But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.

Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.

Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.

He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.

“Almost done,” Kai notes.

That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.

Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.

His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”

Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.

“It looks beautiful on you.”

You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.

Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.

“Jungkook already paid,” she says.

The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.

"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."

You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.

Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.

He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”

The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.

“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.

You zig-zag around him.

He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.

Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."

You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.

With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.

You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.

He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.”

You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”

You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.

Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.

“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”

You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.

“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.

Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.

With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”

You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.

“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”

The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.

He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”

When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.

You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.

With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.

You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.

There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.

“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.

Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.

“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.

"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.

As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?

"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.

"If you were mine?"

You hum.

"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."

You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.

All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.

Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.

You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.

“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.

“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”

You nod.

If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.

Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.

But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.

Maybe you should offer him some.

“Then don’t.”

It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.

It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.

He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.

His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.

Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.

“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”

He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”

“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.

“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.

You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”

Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”

“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”

He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”

The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.

You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”

With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”

Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”

Your eyes widened. “You knew?”

His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.

Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.

He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”

You deadpan.

“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.

You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”

“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”

You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”

“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”

“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.

Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jeon jungkook

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videovamptramp · 9 months

Text

you aren’t mine to lose

// you’ve had a crush on ellie since you were kids. you two have always been best friends; until she gets a girlfriend who ironically hates you. //

warnings: pinning, angst, stoner/dealer!ellie, modern day au, i can never write anything happy, this isn’t proof read so my grammatical errors may need a warning???

(you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her)

ellie has been your best friend since you were both 13. throughout high school, the two of you only grew closer. your mother often joked that you were both conjoined at the hip. everywhere ellie was, you were, and vice versa. your crush on ellie started a little after the first year of high school. the brunette has always been really nice to you; even if she was awkward, and didn’t understand very many social cues… ellie was your favorite person in the whole wide world.

your crush on ellie only got worse as the two of you got older. you even found yourself following her after graduation to the university of jackson. now it was your first year of college, and the two of you were still the best of friends. that is, until ellie got a girlfriend. in all honesty, you were a depressed wreck when ellie first started talking to tiffany. she was a blonde with blue eyes, and had a body that could stop a trucker from a mile away. she was perfect in every single way, and it was obvious why ellie liked her. it was also pretty obvious that tiffany hated you. ellie was, of course oblivious to the tension between you and the psych major, but you were pretty sure tiffany only hated you because she knew how you felt about ellie.

but that didn’t discourage you from keeping your friendship with the brunette you’ve come to love so much. you never expected ellie to return your feelings. in fact, that’s the main reason you’ve been so supportive of her relationship with tiffany from the beginning. sure, it made you sad and sometimes you didn’t want to talk to ellie, because all she’d talk about was tiffany… but you still tried really hard to text her and hang out with her. maybe it wasn’t as much as you two used to, but still, you were trying and that’s all that matters, right?

“so are you gonna be at jesse’s party tonight?” your roommate dina inquires curiously, as she folds some of her clothes. she pulls you out of your ellie-induced thoughts, causing you to pry your eyes away from the textbook you hadn’t been paying any attention to. “um, no. i have to study for my english seminar. mr. lydon always calls on me.” you half lie, and dina rolls her eyes playfully. “that’s because you practically know everything already. he’s impressed and probably gonna offer you a position as a student teacher next year.” she admits, and your eyes light up at the thought. you were majoring in english, because it’s always been your dream to be an english teacher or professor.

“you really think he’ll ask me? yara’s super smart and she’s been talking about wanting to be a student teacher since the year started.” you point out, while dina waves dismissively after putting some of her shirts away. “he’s definitely gonna ask you, y/n. you two are always talking about star wars and your weird love for the semi colon.” she taunts, making you blush in a bit of embarrassment. “it’s just… it’s a pause without a coma or period— never mind, you wouldn’t understand. science geek.” you tease your roommate back, causing her to gasp in mock offense as she reaches for a pair of folded socks, tossing them right at your face.

you giggle, and as your laughter dies down, dina flashes you a look. “you should really come tonight though. ellie’s gonna be there.” she continues to pick on you, but you can hear the slight seriousness in her tone. you groan, “which means tiffany is also gonna be there.” you counterpoint. you say the blonde’s name as if it’s venomous, and dina shakes her head, the annoyance on her face clear as water. “ugh, i hate her. i swear, if she tries to psycho analyze me because i had a bad day one more time, i’m going to punch her and ruin that nose job her daddy paid for.” dina states in a tone too serious to be a joke, and you flash her a look of surprise before you both burst into a fit of laughter.

“still, you should go with me tonight. word on the street is ellie and her have been arguing a lot lately.” dina confesses, and this seems to spike your interest. you quirk a brow in your roommates direction, ellie hasn’t told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. then again, you’ve barely been texting ellie about anything other than plans for group hangouts or memes. “what are they fighting about?” you ask, unable to hide the fact that you’re suddenly intrigued. dina shrugs, “i don’t know, but it seems pretty bad. i heard tiffany yelling the other day. like at the top of her lungs yelling. i think the dorm rep had to get involved.” she explains, and your eyes widen a bit.

why didn’t ellie tell me anything?

“look, we can go with our matching flare jeans!” dina holds up the pair of black jeans she had just washed; they were your favorite pair because they had hearts on them. you shake your head, offering her a small smile. “fine. i’ll go; but if i get anything less than a eighty on tomorrow’s assignment, i’m blaming you.” you warn her playfully, and the grin on dina’s face makes your smile widen. you close the book you had long forgotten about, and get up; deciding to pick out your outfit for tonight. you settle on the flare jeans and a black furry sweater that’s too small to even keep you warm. your hair is still a bit damp from your shower earlier, but you let down both of your braids anyways; allowing the semi-curly hair to fall down. after putting on some mascara and lipgloss, you aimlessly scroll through tiktok while you wait for dina to finish getting ready.

by the time the raven haired girl is finished, jesse is texting the group chat, letting you both know the kegs are full and ready. apparently ellie was supplying the weed, and one of jesse’s friends was bringing bottles of liquor along with some packs of beer. “you should text ellie and tell her you’re gonna come.” dina suggests, as you both make your way out of your dorm hall, stepping out into the horrid cold. “so… you and jesse…” you trail off, a tiny smirk etched onto your lips. you can see dina blushing under one of the lampposts, causing you to chuckle. “jeez, d, you really like this guy huh?” you question and her blush deepens; her cheeks turning crimson red.

“he’s sweet… i know we just met earlier this year, but i feel like i really know him. you know? like i know his heart.” dina explains, and you smile brightly. “wow, i never thought i’d hear you talking about someone in such a sappy way.” you poke fun at her, but your friend can hear the softness in your voice and see the fondness in your eyes. dina grins, “yeah, well, who knows, he might get lucky tonight.” she half jokes and you gasp, throwing your head back while releasing a howling laugh.

when you get to the frat house, there’s already hoard of people there. the music is loud, but not too loud, so for that you’re sort of grateful. jesse finds you both a minute after you two walk in; he has a large smile on his face and his varsity jacket hanging off his back. “hello ladies.” he says, his smile more directed to dina. “hey jesse, is ellie here yet?” you ask curiously, trying to sound nonchalant, but he can see right through you. he nods, “yup! she’s in the back rolling a few j’s. you can head back there and say hi if you want. she’s alone.” he clarifies, and you smile gratefully. “thanks! i’ll see you guys in a minute. save me a dance, party girl.” you tell dina, and she nods. “you better come find me to dance!” she warns, and you giggle as you begin to make your way to the back of the frat house.

the only bedroom downstairs is usually used for seven minutes in heaven, or for movie nights. when you push your way into the bedroom the room is full of smoke, and you spot ellie sitting on the bed. she’s wearing a buttoned up flannel shirt, and those old faded jeans that you love on her. she’s staring out of the closed window, seemingly deep in thought; her short brown hair barely reaches the nape of her neck, and you can’t help but stare for a minute as you lean against the doorframe. she takes another drag of the joint, inhaling the smoke and keeping it in her throat before releasing it. “hey there.” you pull her out of her thoughts, causing her to snap her head in your direction.

ellie’s eyes change as soon as they land on you. her face expression goes soft. “hey. what are you doing here?” she questions, her voice light but clearly confused. “dina convinced me to come.” you explain shortly as you walk in, inching closer to ellie. you don’t seem to notice the way those pale green eyes seem to roam up and down your body as you stand in front of her. she holds the joint out, offering you some. ellie knows you love to smoke, you’re not a drinker, but you’ve always been a smoker. growing up, you were the only one who was always down to get high with ellie. it was, shamefully her favorite thing. getting high alone or with anyone else wasn’t the same for her.

you gladly take it, placing the joint between your lips before fixing your sweater, and taking the lit joint out of your mouth. you hold the smoke while you hand it back to ellie, offering her a cute little smile that makes something in her chest clench. you cough a little after exhaling the smoke, and it makes her chuckle. “good?” she asks, and you nod, “what strain as that?” you wonder out loud, “cherry chem.” she answers vaguely, placing the joint between her own lips as she reaches into her backpack, retrieving a little wooden box. you watch inquisitively as she opens the box and reveals a bunch of freshly rolled joints.

“here.” she says as she pulls out five and hands them to you. you shake your head, “no, it’s okay—“ she cuts you off, “you don’t wanna get too drunk tonight, do you, princess?” she asks, the old nickname causing you to blush under her droopy, hooded eyes. you reluctantly accept them, knowing ellie is right. you always get too drunk when you don’t smoke in order to level yourself out. “thanks els.” you thank her with that god damn smile on your face, and ellie feels as if the sun is shining on her face. you make her feel so warm.

“sit down.” she says, handing you the nearly finished joint, as she pats the empty space right beside her. you scrunch your nose in disgust, “no way, i saw joan sanders come in here with tommy last month. i know what happens on this bed.” you says in a prissy tone that causes ellie to laugh. “such a priss.” she mutters as she pulls you by your hips and causes you to fall onto the bed right next to her. you gasp, pushing her arm roughly. “ellie!” you squeal in disgust, but you get a whiff of her cologne that causes your head to go fuzzy. your face is hot, and ellie is smirking at you in a way that causes the butterflies in your belly to repopulate.

“it’s almost finished.” you scowl, and ellie shrugs as she snatches the joint out of your hands, tossing it into the ashtray. “i’ll light another one. unless you got somewhere to be.” she raises a brow, and you shake your head, flashing her a puzzled look. “aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with tiffany tonight? you guys are always at every party together.” you point out, and you notice the way ellie tenses at the sound of her girlfriends name. her demeanor shifts as she reaches for another joint, and lights it.

“she’s with her friends tonight. you know ashley and miley?” she asks with clear disdain on her face. you nod, “i know of them. they’re on the cheer team right?” you respond with a question, and she merely nods. “yeah. she’s with them i think.” ellie mutters, and you go quiet for a minute. “dina told me you guys have been fighting lately...” you start, and ellie rolls her eyes. “… why didn’t you tell me anything?” you ask her, and she shrugs. “didn’t wanna bother you with my dumb ass relationship problems.” she mumbles, as she hands you the joint.

you throw her a look of surprise, “your problem are not dumb, ellie.” you say sternly, and she scoffs. “they are. she’s… she’s being stupid.” she murmurs, and you furrow your brows. you’ve never heard ellie speak negatively about tiffany before. if anything, whenever she’d bring the blonde up she’d have this dorky grin on her face. now she looks exhausted. “what happened?” you ask carefully, and ellie freezes. you’ve known each other for years and ellie tells you everything; yet she doesn’t want to tell you about the this. the more you think about it, the more you realize ellie’s never told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. not even once.

she seems to have put a wall up for the first time without you even noticing. have you really been pulling away that much, that you didn’t even notice something’s been going on with her? in your defense, you were only pulling away from her to protect your heart. you knew ellie could never want you the way you want her, and whenever you saw her with tiffany, it hurt.

she shakes her head refusing to tell you. “it’s nothing.”

your brows knit together, she’s never shut you out about anything. ellie’s even told you all of the embarrassing things about herself; she was an open book with no filter when it came to you… but right now it seemed like she didn’t want to tell you what the arguments between her and tiffany are about. the silence in the room is thick, and you can hear the muffled music coming from behind the door. you open your mouth to speak, but jesse rushes into the room, “hey ellie, dani wants to know if she can buy a few joints off you.” the dark haired boy states causing ellie to get up. “yeah, sure. come on, wanna get a drink?” ellie asks you. you nod, standing up and following the brunette and jesse out of the room.

there’s even more people here than there was when you first arrived, and as you check your phone, you realize you were with ellie for nearly thirty minutes. ellie reaches for your hand so she doesn’t lose you in the crowd, and you gladly take it. your stomach flips as soon as your skin meets hers, and she leads you over to the kitchen. jesse walks up to dani with you and ellie not far behind, and your eyes wander around the crowded area as ellie begins to make a deal with the basket ball player. ellie squeezes your hand when she’s done, and the smile she flashes you makes your knees weak.

“whatcha’ want to drink?” she asks you with that cute raspy voice that drives you crazy. “just a cranberry vodka, if you guys have any cranberry juice.” ellie’s sure you don’t mean to look up at her with those sexy lidded eyes, but you do and she finds her mouth going dry. “coming right up.” she winks at you, and nearly grimaces at how awkward she is. you giggle while she makes your drinks, the buzz from ellie’s weed barely now hitting you. you’re partially reminded of why you’ve been trying not to smoke; because whenever you’re high, ellie is all you can think about. it makes you sad knowing she’s probably thinking about making up with her girlfriend right now.

ellie hands you your drink first, before making her own. you take a sip, grimacing at the strong taste of alcohol, “ellie!” the girly voice nearly causes you to wince as tiffany bounces up to the brunette; wrapping her arms around the back of ellie’s neck. you don’t see the way ellie forces a smile because your eyes are now glued to the red drink in your cup. “hey babe.” ellie greets her girlfriend, and the term of endearment causes a pang of pain to linger in your chest. you take a swig of your drink, and ellie looks over at you apologetically. you flash her a small, reassuring smile yet she can see it isn’t your usual smile.

ellie wants to say something to you, but before she can, dani makes her way back to you both. “uh, hey y/n.” the basketball player greets you, and you gratefully find an excuse to pry your gaze off of ellie and tiffany. “hey dani. how did you do on mr. lyndon’s quiz yesterday?” you ask her, and ellie tries not frown as she notices the way the taller girls eyes wander over your body. “i did terrible! i can’t believe midterms are next week. i’m not ready.” the tall girl admits and amusement glints in your eyes as you look up at her. “i like your necklace, by the way.” she adds, complimenting the silver necklace dangling off your collar bone. you smile brightly, your fingers going to play with the necklace your mother gave you before you left to college. you and your sisters all have the same one.

“thanks. my mom got it for me when i turned eighteen. i like your jacket.” you pull on the ends of her varsity jacket, batting your eyes up at her, and tiffany frowns as you don’t notice that ellie’s hard gaze is fixated on you. tiffany definitely notices, and it causes her to scowl. “wanna go smoke?” dani asks, pulling a joint out of her pocket. you grin, but ellie intervenes. “i already smoked her out.” the brunette clarifies, locking eyes with the jock and flashing her a warning look that makes you frown. dani looks at you, ignoring ellie and smirking right at you. “wanna go for round two, princess?” she asks, and something in ellie’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the sound of dani calling you “princess”.

“sure. i’m always down to smoke.” you say, and you flash ellie a look that she doesn’t recognize before you wrap yourself around the jocks arm. ellie keeps her eyes on you as you disappear out of the kitchen with dani, “looks like dani is getting lucky tonight.” tiffany declares, pulling ellie out of her thoughts. if ellie weren’t so preoccupied with thinking about you and dani, she would’ve found that comment strange. but ellie is high and she isn’t thinking about anything other than you giving those eyes to dani walsh.

ellie’s face twists at the mere thought of you hooking up with the raven haired girl tonight. ellie can’t come up with a single reason why she feels so upset about it; you’re single after all, and dani is undoubtedly every girls type. she shakes her head, “no. y/n’s not that kind of girl.” ellie says more to herself than to her girlfriend. tiffany scoffs, “did you not see what i saw? your friend is totally into her.” tiffany says as she takes ellie’s cup and takes a swig. she makes a face, “ugh. cranberry? seriously, ellie? you know i hate cranberry.” she mutters in disgusts, and ellie flashes her a sheepish smile.

“sorry, it was y/n’s drink choice.” the brunette replies, and tiffany rolls her eyes. “what?” ellie asks, detecting the clear annoyance that came from her saying your name. “nothing.” tiffany mutters and ellie rolls her eyes, a wave of frustration washing over her. “seriously, what’s wrong? you look pissed.” ellie points out, and the shorter girl flashes her a sardonic expression. “oh, now you noticed? you’ve been so preoccupied with y/n tonight, you haven’t even talked to me!” she snaps, and ellie’s eyes widen. “what!? you’re the one who ditched me as soon as we got here to hang out with your friends! what do you want me to do? follow you around like a puppy all night?” ellie begins to raise her voice, losing her cool.

“no i don’t want that! i want you to care about me more than you care about y/n!” she shouts, and ellie shakes her head in bewilderment. “what the fuck is your problem with her?! y/n’s my best friend, and i love her! i love you too, but fuck, tiffany!” ellie is clearly losing all the cool inside of her body, if she was angry before she’s even angrier now. “but what?” the blonde challenges, crossing her arms and flashing ellie a stern look. ellie goes quiet, “say it.” tiffany adds demandingly, and ellie scoffs, “say what?” she mumbles, playing dumb. “what you’ve always known but never had the balls to admit. you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” tiffany snaps, and ellie can only stare at her with inscrutable features etched onto her face.

the silence is telling, and it seems to give tiffany the only answer she needs. “i’m done coming second in this relationship, ellie. you have to tell me right now… do you love me more or her?” tiffany’s voice is harsh and up for no debates. ellie lets out a breathless chuckle, more so because she’s surprised at the absurd question. “are you serious?” she questions, her voice laced with pure disbelief. tiffany is staring at her as if ellie is the crazy one, and it just now hits ellie that you’ve been alone with dani for over fifteen minutes.

“i don’t have time for your shit tonight, dani. y/n’s cross faded and i’m not gonna let her go home with some sleaze from the basketball team, all because you’re jealous.” she hisses, as she turns around to walk away, but tiffany stops her by reaching out and grabbing her arm. ellie spins and around to face her girlfriend; her patience wearing thin. “i’m jealous!? ellie, look at you! you’re going crazy because y/n might hook up with someone else!” she exasperatedly snaps, and the words seem to knock some sense into ellie. she glances down at her shoes, a bit ashamed; “look me in the eye and tell me right now that you’re not in love with her.” the shorter girl demands. ellie’s eyes lock with tiffany’s piercing blue eyes, and all she can think about is you.

you and your smile. you and your laugh. the way you say her name, and how you remember everything she says. the tiny scar on your back nobody else knows about. the way your eyes light up when you’re excited…

ellie wants to say no. she wants to be a good girlfriend and assure tiffany that she’s in love with her and only her… but as she thinks about your soft eyes being directed at some jock looking to get “lucky”, ellie knows she can’t say it. tiffany lets out a scoff, shaking her head before loosening her grip on ellie’s wrist. “you can’t even say it! you can’t even look at me and lie about it!” tiffany pushes her finger into ellie’s chest, and ellie feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as she begins to calm down. her thoughts seem to rationalize but she knows she’s already fucked up. “tiff…” she trails off, and the cheerleader shakes her head, tears pooling in her baby blue eyes.

“just go get her before she leaves with dani.” tiffany sounds defeated, and a part of ellie is telling her to stay and fix things with tiffany, but there’s a loud voice in her head telling her to go and make sure you haven’t left with that other girl. ellie doesn’t say anything else as she walks out of the kitchen, leaving dani alone. she’s certain whatever was left of the relationship is now over, but she can’t seem to care. you’re the only thing on her mind as her gaze flitters all over the room in search for you. her eyes zero in on dina who is dancing with someone ellie barely knows; the brunette doesn’t think twice before interrupting.

“have you seen y/n? she’s with dani and she’s pretty faded. i wanna make sure she’s okay.” ellie rushes the words out, sounding like a nervous wreck. dina stops dancing for a moment, raising a brow, “uh, i just talked to y/n like four minutes ago, she seemed fine. she said her and dani were gonna smoke and maybe walk back to her dorm.” dina winks insinuatingly, and ellie’s heart falls into the pit of her stomach.

“shit… did they leave through the front or back?” ellie sounds apprehensive, and it causes a wave of confusion to wash over the raven haired girl. “the front i think… wait why does it matter?” dina questions, and ellie shakes her head. “because all dani wants to do is get in y/n’s pants.” ellie hisses, and dina raises her brows in slight shock at the sudden outburst. she watches ellie rush off, and before she can think about chasing after her best friend, jesse swoops in and pushes past the guy dina had been dancing with. “mind if i cut in?” jesse asks hopefully, and dina nods happily, quickly forgetting about you and ellie.

ellie goes out the front door of the frat house, and her eyes flicker around in search for you. when her eyes land on you, her stomach knots up as she sees you’re now wearing dani’s jacket and saying something that ellie can’t make out. her eyes widen and her mind races, as you two begin walking in the direction of the dorm rooms. ellie’s heart nearly stops beating, and it’s like her body has a mind of its own as she begins to rush over in your direction. “y/n wait!” she calls out and you stop in your tracks, spinning around at the sound of your best friends voice.

“ellie?” you sound confused; whenever her and tiffany get together during a party like this, you almost never see her till the next day. “is everything okay?” you ask as she stalks up to you. she has this unrecognizable look etched onto her face, “i just… i needed to talk to you—“ ellie cuts herself off when she sees the smile that was on your face drop. “is it tiffany? did you guys fight again?” you ask, clearly concerned. dani looks at you, then ellie, “i can give you two a minute of you want.” she tells you, and you offer her a grateful smile. “i’ll be right there.” you promise, and ellie hates how soft your gaze is when it’s directed at the jock.

dani offers you an annoyingly charming smile before walking a few feet away from you and ellie. “what’s wrong? what happened with tiffany?” you you ask her, and ellie shakes her head. “since when is dani your type?” she completely ignores your question, going straight for what’s been bugging her all night. you look taken back by the disdain in her voice, causing you to let out a breathless chuckle. “how is she not my type? she’s cute, and nice…” you trail off, and ellie blows a raspberry with her mouth. “so that’s all it takes for you to hookup with someone?” she practically interrogates you, causing you to frown.

“excuse me?” you respond, the offense in your tone clear as day. “what’s your problem? just because we’re hitting it off and i’m going to let her walk me back to my dorm, doesn’t mean i’m going to let her screw me, ellie!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down in order for dani not to hear. the brunette scoffs, “yeah, sure, did you see the way you were looking at her? plus you’re wearing her fucking jacket, and she’s been smoking you out… she thinks she’s getting lucky tonight.” ellie sounds angrier than you’ve ever heard, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks, ellie. she’s not getting lucky tonight unless i say so!” you snap.

“besides, why do you even care so much about what i do with dani!? shouldn’t you be up tiffany’s ass like you always are?!” you know you sound much harsher than you ever do, which is why ellie suddenly has this kicked dog-like expression on her face. “i-i don’t care! i just don’t think it’s cool how she started preying on you and trying to get you all high. she’s a sleaze!” ellie argues, and you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, that’s up for me to decide. i’ll see you tomorrow, ellie. when we’re both sober.” your voice is lower than before, and you flash her one last look before turning around and making your way over to dani.

ellie pathetically watches as you and dani begin to leave together, and her heart plummets right into her stomach. tiffany’s words from earlier are ringing in her head; “you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” ellie stupidly realizes tiffany was right. she loves you more than she’s ever loved anyone… yet as she watches dani entwine her hand with yours before you both disappear in the direction of the dormitory, she realizes you aren’t hers to love. and you certainly aren’t hers to lose.

a/n(PLEASE READ): here’s a one-shot i wrote earlier this month, i just finished the next part of “i’m right over here, why can’t you see me”. it should be posted by christmas, and yes i will be tagging everyone who commented on it 🖤 - vamp

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beomiracles · 5 months

Text

「 DETENTION 」

DREAM RECALL an unfortunate encounter with your sworn enemy lands you both in detention ─ though you soon discover that maybe there's more to Beomgyu than just his quick witted tongue.

pairings beomgyu x afab!reader warnings oral (f!rec), cum eating if you squint super hard, reader is implied to be inexperienced, enemies to ???

wc -> 4k (help).

#serene adds ✎... watched The Breakfast Club (1985) a week ago and I had to. I originally started writing this last week but scrapped it and redid it all today heh.

NOTE .ᐟ all characters are above the age of 18.

The sounds of your heels clacking against the cold stone floors echo off the empty hallways. The lump in your throat only grows as you approach the classroom door, what had you gotten yourself into. With a final glance toward your watch, which reads 7.54 am, you push the wooden door open and step inside.

The classroom is eerily empty, the morning sun shines through the windows, basking the rows of desks in a warm light. Opting to take a seat by the front row, you place your bag neatly on the desk in front of you as you straighten out your skirt. To your right, the classroom door opens once more, “professor”, you’re quick to greet your teacher as he steps inside, a tired look on his face.

Your professor doesn't answer you as he walks over to his own desk by the front of the classroom. Awkwardly biting your bottom lip, you stand by your desk, shifting nervously on the spot. Raising an eyebrow in your direction, the low monotone voice of your teacher breaks the deafening silence, “you may sit”.

Quickly doing as he says, you quietly take your seat and place your sweaty hands neatly in front of you on the table. Heart almost beating out of your chest as you nervously glance around the empty room once more. “It is most unusual to see you here, miss y/ln”, your professor comments as he flips through his papers, not bothering to spare you a glance.

And it was true, this was your first detention, having made it through all of elementary, middle and highschool without warranting as much as a warning from teachers, only to find yourself stuck in detention during your last semester in college. To say that it was embarrassing was beyond an understatement.

Detention was for troubled students, for the students who were barely passing their classes, the students who would talk back to the teachers, for the students who didn’t care for their education, detention was for Choi Beomgyu. The one who had gotten you here in the first place, yet he seemed to be a no-show.

Your professor clears his throat as he throws a glance toward the watch on the wall, it was already three minutes past eight. A small fragment of you suddenly felt hopeful, perhaps he wasn’t coming at all, after all Beomgyu had earned himself an infamous title of ditching class. Why would he turn up to detention, and on a Saturday at that.

As the minutes tick by, your hopes grow whilst the frown on your professor’s face only deepens. By 8.09 am however, your hopes are crushed as the classroom door swings open. “Mr Chu!” Beomgyu exclaims as he saunters over to your professor’s desk. He had some nerve showing up late to his own detention, but such trivial things never seemed to bother Beomgyu in the slightest.

“Mr Choi, how delightful we are that you finally decided to join us”, your professor mutters as he redirects Beomgyu to take a seat. “Why of course, wouldn’t wanna miss out on an opportunity to spend time with my favorite professor”, Beomgyu grins.

Mr Chu looked as if he would rather swallow oil than spend his Saturday with Beomgyu. “Why don’t you take a seat Mr Choi and we can get started”. Beomgyu shrugs as he turns to find a seat, his eyes suddenly locking with yours, “no way!” he bellows, “smartie’s here too!” You grimaced at the nickname, despite being far from unfamiliar with it.

For the past six semesters spent in his presence Beomgyu had never once passed up the opportunity to poke at you. Whether it was your outstandingly good grades, your eagerness to raise your hand in class or the way you seemed to know the most random facts about the most diverse topics.

At first you had thought that he might’ve just been jealous, he was after all failing the vast majority of his own classes and seemed to have the general knowledge of a twelve year old. But it soon became evident that he enjoyed getting a rise out of you, by your second year you had decided not to let him have that satisfaction.

“Mr Choi, your seat”, your professor mutters and Beomgyu rolls his eyes as he finds a seat a few rows behind you. A blank paper is placed in front of you and you frown, “I’m looking for a one thousand word paper”, Mr Chu says as he places a paper on Beomgyu’s desk as well, earning a look of disbelief from him. “More specifically, a reflection on the behavior that got you here today”.

You frown, he wanted an essay? You had expected it to be worse, perhaps writing a letter to your parents or doing some kind of charity work. Sure a thousand words was a lot, but it was surely do-able. Beomgyu did not seem to quite agree, “one thousand fucking words are you nuts?” he cries out.

Your professor’s palm slammed against one of the nearby desks has you jumping in your seat, “I will not tolerate such language in this classroom Mr Choi”. As he straightens his back once more, your professor shoots Beomgyu a glare, “perhaps a bit of reflection will do you some good”, he mutters as he flattens the sleeves of his shirt.

“You have until 1pm, I suggest you use your time wisely. I will be across the hall, try anything funny and I will know”, with that, the classroom door slams shut and you’re left alone. Beomgyu lets out a whistle behind you, “well that was anticlimactic”, he comments, you ignore him.

Instead you pull out your pencil case from your bag. As you think of a way to start your essay a small psst can be heard. Aside from rolling your eyes, you pay Beomgyu no mind as you begin writing. It was bad enough that you were actually in detention right now, you didn’t need to spur the situation on further.

A small tap to the back of your head pulls you from your concentration, “what the..”, you mumble as you turn around to see that it was a piece of crumpled paper that had hit you. Beomgyu’s gaze is already locked on you, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Smartie, you got an extra pencil?” he asks and you shoot him a glare, “didn’t you think to bring your own to detention?”. He shrugs, “don’t own one”. You frown in disbelief, “you don’t own a simple pencil?” and Beomgyu shakes his head. Unbelievable.

“Fine, but be sure to return it”, you mutter as you toss him your pencil which he easily catches. Returning your attention to your paper it takes less than a minute for Beomgyu to disrupt your focus once more. “So, whatcha doin’ in detention smartie?” he asks as he rolls the pencil between his fingers, “I mean, I know you’re ambitious about school and all, but isn’t going to detention too, a little too far?” he then adds, his voice dripping with sarcasm in such a way that makes your blood boil.

“You would know why I’m here”, you mutter, not bothering to turn and look at him as you keep your gaze fixed on the paper in front of you. Beomgyu hums behind you, “sure, just thought you would’ve found a way out of this situation”, he pauses, “I didn’t think that you of all people would actually attend detention”.

Finally you’ve had enough and you turn around in your seat, “and why’s that?”. Beomgyu sniggers, “come on now, ain't it obvious? with your grades and all”. You frown, disbelieving of the words leaving his lips, “I work hard for my grades”, you bite back, “why would you insinuate something else?”.

“You’re telling me that’s all hard work?” he scoffs and your frown deepens, “what else would it be?”. Beomgyu suddenly smirks, and as his tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip you let out a horrified sound of disgust. “You are unbelievable”. He shrugs, “maybe, but at least I don’t blow our teachers” he counters to which your face loses all its color, “I do not!”.

“Why so defensive?” he questions as he leans forward on his desk, “is it because it’s actually true?”. You could have almost slapped him, “it is not true! and I’m not being defensive”, you gawk, disbelief evident on your horrified face. Who did he think he was to make such an assumption?

“Alright”, he mutters as he leans back against his chair, “so you’re just a nerd then?”. Scoffing, you point toward his still empty paper, “and you’re just a loser then?”. “Careful”, Beomgyu shudders as he places a hand on top of his chest, “you might end up hurting my feelings”. You roll your eyes, “your feelings couldn’t be hurt even if someone cut them in half”. Beomgyu grins but doesn’t reply and you turn back to your essay.

“If you would please stop disturbing me, I for one would like to go home as soon as possible”, you retort, “besides you’re the reason I’m here to begin with, so the least you can do is not act an asshole”.

“Now, now, you’re exaggerating, you got here on your own, smartie”, he huffs. “It was twice as much your fault as it was mine”, you snap, “if you hadn’t— if you actually studied, we would not be here right now”.

You remember all too well how the past Wednesday’s events had got you in detention, and it was all Beomgyu’s fault.

Wednesday earlier that week

“Hey, smartie!” Beomgyu’s voice echoes off the crowded hallways as he pushes past several students in order to catch up to you. He hadn’t been to school for at least three weeks now, and to say that you were disappointed to see him, was an understatement. However, as the semester drew to an end, finals were coming up.

You ignore him as you keep on walking, “hey, hey, hey, what’s the rush smart pants?” he questions as he speeds up to match your pace. “What do you want Beomgyu?” you groan as you keep your gaze ahead. He grins, “well, today’s test—”

“I won’t let you cheat off me”, you immediately shut any ideas down and Beomgyu’s lips curl into a pout, “why not?” he whines, “is that not what friends do?”. “We are not friends, Beomgyu”, you say as you stop by your locker, careful not to let him catch a glimpse of your code as you open it.

“Whatever. acquaintances then”, he mutters and you shake your head, “we’re not acquaintances either”. Beomgyu frowns, “sure we are”. Grabbing a book out of your locker before slamming it shut you turn to look at him, “an acquaintance is someone you know”.

“Well I know yo–”, “no you don’t”.

“Alright fine, just let me sneak a glance or two at your paper will ya?” he then says to which you promptly shake your head, “I don’t promote cheating, if you actually went to school you would know what to do”, you retort as you begin walking once more, Beomgyu doesn’t follow you.

In fact you don’t see Beomgyu for the rest of the day, not until you enter the test hall. You always liked to get there early, it meant you could pick the best seat and get organized before the room got flooded with students. Unfortunately Beomgyu seemed to be aware of this, perched up on one of the nearby desks he waves at you when you enter the classroom.

“No”, you sternly say as you walk over to one of the seats by the window. As soon as you’re sat, Beomgyu quickly plops down on the seat next to yours. “What are you playing at?” you ask and Beomgyu gives an innocent shrug, “nothin’”. Internally groaning, you get up and move a row back, Beomgyu is quick to follow.

“You are aware that there are plenty of seats, you don’t have to choose the ones next to me”, you mutter and Beomgyu casts a quick glance around the test hall, “sure, but I’d rather sit here”.

And he did. As the test began Beomgyu didn’t write anything, instead he mindlessly doodled on the first few questions. You ignored him to the best of your abilities as you shielded your own paper from his view, you were not going to let someone like him take credit for your hard work.

Psst, psst, smartie, Beomgyu’s voice cuts through the thick silence. As you turn your head to look at him he juts his chin toward your sheet. You shake your head as you resume writing. It’s not long until another psst can be heard, and in the corner of your eye you can see how Beomgyu cranes his neck to try and catch a glimpse of your answers.

“Quit trying to cheat, accept the fact that you haven’t studied”, you hiss and Beomgyu grins, “why, when I have you right here”, he whispers back. You ignore him as you continue writing, Beomgyu however doesn’t give up. At first it’s quiet whispers, then small whistles as he tries to grab your attention. Finally you snap, “if you don’t–”

“What seems to be the problem here?” one of the many supervising teachers had approached your desks. Your wide eyes snap up in horror as you try and think of an excuse, you hadn’t done anything wrong so there wasn’t any need to be worried, right?

Beomgyu beats you to it, “she promised I’d get to cheat off her paper but she refuses to show anything'', he complains as he leans back in his chair. The teacher’s eyes widen at Beomgyu’s blunt words as she looks between you both a couple of times.

“No that’s not what–” you try to butt in only to be silenced by the teacher in a split second. Shaking her head she motions toward the door, “out, both of you”.

You had never felt more ashamed as you walked out the test hall not even twenty minutes into the exam, Beomgyu seemed unbothered and it angered you even more. The two of you had been assigned detention that following Saturday and that was exactly how you had ended up in your current situation.

Saturday present time

By 8.30 am you had gotten about a third of your essay done. Beomgyu who hadn’t as much as started, busied himself with annoying you in every way possible. “This is awfully boring”, he suddenly exclaims and you groan.

“Then why are you here?” you ask as you turn around in your seat to face him. Beomgyu frowns, “why am I here?”. You huff out a frustrated sigh, “yes, why are you? I mean it’s not like you ever come to school, so why would you even turn up to detention?” you question.

The grin on Beomgyu’s face suddenly disappears as he looks at you, “isn’t that obvious?” he asks to which you frown, “not exactly”. He runs a hand through his ruffled hair as he sighs, “‘cause I was hopin’ you’d be here”, he then says and your lips part in surprise.

Was this some cheap trick to torment you further, if so it was a terrible one. “Funny”, you mutter but Beomgyu is persistent, “I’m serious”. “Why, so you could poke fun at me even more?” you scoff as you turn back to your paper with a sigh.

“It’s a bonus”, he admits in a sly tone, “but I prefer lookin’ at you”. Your heart suddenly rattles in your chest, “what?”. If this was another one of his jokes it was surely getting sick. Beomgyu shrugs behind you and you can almost hear him smirking, “you heard me smartie”.

“If you think you’re funny then I can assure you that you humor me very little”, you snort. All you wanted to do was finish your stupid essay, go home and hopefully not have to face Beomgyu for another couple of weeks. Whatever he was playing at right now made your heart beat in an unrhythmically way and had your cheeks heating up.

“Hey, smartie”, Beomgyu calls out but you refuse to acknowledge him, “think you can do my essay too?” he asks to which you scoff, he had some nerve. First he tries cheating off your test, then he lands you in detention, and now he asks for you to do his work too? This was one too far, just as you’re about to tell him off he interrupts you.

“I’ll eat you out if you do”.

At first you’re unsure that you had even heard him correct, but as you turn to face him, you find his eyes glinting in the most mischievous way as a smirk pulls at his lips. He quirked an eyebrow as he awaited your answer, confidence reeking off of him. “You’re insane”, is all you say before turning back around again.

“Why?” Beomgyu is suddenly in front of you, placing his palms on your desk as he leans forward, his face now inches from yours, “you think I’m bad at eating pussy?” he questions to which your face turns beet red.

“I…I don’t care if you’re good or not, it’s n-nothing I’m interested in”, you stammer as your eyes return to your paper in a desperate attempt to hide the way your face flushes with color. You still couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and it made you nervous, a lot more than you wanted to admit.

Beomgyu lets out a huff, his warm breath fanning your forehead and you swallow a gulp. “C’mon now, it’s a fair deal”, he reasons as he leans even closer, “a favor for a favor”. You glance up at him and from the way his smirk widens you’re certain he can make out the blush covering your cheeks. “I don’t need any favors from you”, you grit out.

“You won’t know what you’re missin’ out on”, he pushes and you press your lips into a thin line, “I’d rather keep it like that”. Beomgyu clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “you’re such a prude, smartie”, he comments, “but then again, aren’t all nerds?”. You frown, “I’m not a nerd, and I’m not a prude either”.

“You act like it”, Beomgyu remarks and you shoot him a glare, “just because I don’t spread my legs for anyone doesn’t make me a prude, and just because I work hard does not make me a nerd”, you retort and Beomgyu raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Why don’t you prove it then?” he drawls, leaning so close that his nose presses against yours. Swallowing hard your eyes flicker from his own down to his lips, had he always had such plump lips? Blinking, your eyes snap back up to his and you sigh, “fine”. What was the worst that could happen?

“See, I knew you’d come around”, Beomgyu grins as he straightens his back. “But, if you’re ass at it, I’m not doing your essay”, your voice comes out a lot shakier than you had intended for it to but Beomgyu doesn’t seem to take note of it as he quickly finds his way under your table.

“Believe me, it won’t be”, he smirks and you yelp as his hands part your thighs without warning. Truth is, you had only said that to cover for the fact that you had never even kissed someone, let alone had your pussy eaten.

The grip on your fingers held on your pencil tightens as Beomgyu’s hands wander beneath your skirt, caressing your inner thighs. “Nice panties you got, smartie”, he comments and you suddenly become extremely self conscious over the soft pink underwear you had picked out that morning.

The hands previously wandering over your thighs find their way to your ass and before you know it, Beomgyu pulls you forward on the chair, a small shriek leaving your lips as the fabric of your panties hits his nose.

As his hands return to your thighs, so does his lips, Beomgyu presses open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, slowly working his way up. The sensation was different from anything you had ever felt before and the arousal pooling in your underwear was undeniable.

“Ever had your pussy eaten before?” he suddenly asks and you freeze. Did your answer matter? If so, what would the right one be? In the end you opted to tell the truth, “um…no”, you quietly admit and you feel how Beomgyu smirks against your skin. “Even better”, he murmurs as his fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs.

When the same fingers come in contact with your panties, you flinch. “Relax smartie”, Beomgyu coos from between your legs, “ain't nothing that’s gonna hurt you”, he reassures and for some reason you find yourself relaxing at his words.

His fingers run along your already wet folds, rubbing them through the fabric of your panties. The friction has you biting down on your lip as you drop the pencil in your hand. As he pushes the material to the side, the cold air hits your embarrassingly wet cunt, though it's quickly replaced by Beomgyu’s warm breath.

When he doesn’t say anything you slightly panic, did he not like what he saw? Maybe there was something wrong with you, maybe— “fuck, your pussy’s gorgeous”, he mumbles as he licks along your folds, experimentally pushing his tongue past them to revel in the way you would squeal.

It felt like you were being invaded, in the most blissful way possible. As his tongue laps at your cunt his hands continue to soothingly caress your trembling thighs. Unsure of where to put your hands they lay flat on the table in front of you, clenching and unclenching as waves of pleasure shoot through you.

Beomgyu groans against your dripping core as his hands travel to your ass once more, pushing you onto his face in a way that you were sure to hurt him, yet he didn’t seem to mind at all. The way the tip of his nose brushes up against your clit has you almost seeing stars and you let out a weak moan.

“Thank fuck I got us both in detention”, he mumbles against your wet folds, his words slightly muffled, “been wanting to taste you like this for ages”, he groans. You barely register what his words, all you can focus on is how good his mouth feels on you.

When he pushes his tongue inside you, you want to yell out in pleasure. Your hands grip the edges of the table, knuckles turning white as soft moans fall from your lips. J-jesus you breathe as you glance down to where Beomgyu’s head was buried between your thighs, the sight made you throb around his tongue.

The way his nose rubbed against your clit, stimulating it, and his tongue, dwelling deep inside your cunt, all became too much and you felt that familiar surge in your lower stomach. Thighs closing tightly around Beomgyu’s head, silent pleas ripping from your throat as your hips bucked up into his face.

“Fucking please cum on my tongue”, Beomgyu groans as he too, feels your orgasm approaching, “gotta taste you forreal”. You nod frantically, unable to form coherent sentences.

As the knot building in your stomach is released you choke out a quiet whimper, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to bruise. Beomgyu’s tongue laps at your cunt like he’s never had anything better, his moans vibrate against your already sensitive skin. You hear him groaning curses under his breath as he licks up every last drop of you.

Your hands loosen their grip on the table as Beomgyu pulls away from your cunt with a smirk, the lower part of his face glistening with your arousal. As he peers up at you from between your legs, he asks, “so... you’ll do my essay, smartie?”

✎...taglist @f4iryfever @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @yunjinsbbg @sanasour @celestialbeomgyu @ninoshome1 @gardnhee (if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

#txt #txt fanfic #txt post #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #beomiracles hard thoughts ✧˖#beommie's dreams

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snail-migraine · 5 months

Note

hello !! please delete / ignore if this validates your rules !! ^ __ ^

Platonic Yandere Malleus & child [name] . .

and [name] may or may not be a brat . . and probably failing school ( it’s college so no wonder !!)

preferably he / him prns but you can do whatever :] thank you !! there’s just not enough platonic yanderes in twstfandom . .

Of course! I'd be more than happy to this. The platonic yandere is a trope thats very unexplored, so I'd love to do one! Thanks for the Ask!

Anon-Yan💌.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Malleus

So since there were no specifics on who reader might be [Just that reader is Malleus's Child] let's just say that reader is Malleus's adopted child, but is still Fae. Just not a draconic fae.

Malleus as Yandere father is super-overprotective. The phrase "Helicopter Parent" Doesn't even begin to describe this man.

Maybe it was due all of the neglect he suffered through as a child, but this man absolutely refuse to give you any sort of privacy or space. Even as a teenager.

He just hates the idea of you feeling lonely so he spends practically every second he can with you, even at you're own expense.

Malleus is also petrified of losing you, Lillia is closing in on his own death, Silver never had very long compared to Malleus, and Sebek is half human, meaning he will never live as long as Malleus.

You're the only other family he has aside from his grandmother, he's not letting you go easily.

Malleus is one of those people who can't help but spoil their children, he'd hate to start yelling at his precious baby.

Maybe all that spoiling is how you got the way you are. Entitled and bratty.

When you first started going to school Malleus would get complaints from teachers on just how terrible you would be to the other kids.

But he refused to believe his precious baby was so awful. Especially when you started [fake] crying, saying that the teachers and other students here were mean to you.

"How dare you accuse my child of such terrible acts! My child would never do such a thing. They are nothing but a sweetheart. If I ever hear such a blatant lie fall from your lips ever again, the consequences will result in your immediate execution. Understand?"

Those poor teachers man.

Malleus babies you so much it isn't until Lillia, Silver, Sebek, and his grandmother hold an intervention that he'll start being a little hard on you.

But even then, if you start crying he'll back down.

It's ironic that somebody so strong breaks so easily at the slightest little swell of your tear-ducts.

Life goes on like this for a long time, with you causing trouble and Malleus brushing it off like it's nothing.

It isn't until you're a teenager and enrolled in Night Raven College that you finally cross the line.

"Mr. Draconia, I don't what it is but your child seems hellbent on becoming one of the worst students this school has ever seen!", Crowley exclaims, "Just last week they destroyed on of Diasomnia's numerous gargoyles! Even with my genius expertise, I can't keep them under control."

You keep your arms crossed and blow a peice of hair out of your face. 'That crow is still yapping.' You think to yourself, annoyed about having to listen to some lousy headmaster blab on and on about how you were sooooo terrible. As if the guy really thought that the Malleus Draconia would ever listen to his bullshit.

Dad always took your side, any second now that crow would finally shut his mouth and your dad would finally get you out of this dump.

Crowley jumps in his seat when a strike of thunder hits outside. 'There it is.' Dad always hated it when people accused you. The frown on your face lightens to a devious smirk.

"Ehem.", Crowley tries to regain his composure, "I believe if they're behavior doesn't change I'll have to expel them."

Thats when Malleus finally snaps, but he doesn't make it clear to you, or Crowley. But God is he pissed. He's spent all this time babying and treating you like the little royal he knows you should be, but look at you! Nothing but a troublemaker with no respect for anyone or anything around you. Has he really failed as father this badly?

You know what? It doesn't matter anymore, cause guess what? He's no longer going to baby you, you're almost an adult for sevens sake! And you've got the intelligence of two year old.

"That's fine, Headmaster Crowley." He says, trying to keep his demeanor calm despite the now raging storm outside. "I think it's best that from now on I start home-schooling them anyways."

His curls his fists into his lap.

"Thank you for your time, we'll be getting Their things now and removing them from campus. Have a good day Crowley." And with that he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you out of the room.

He didn't even let you grab your things, he just pulled you to the mirror and sent both of you back to Briar Valley. Once there, he continues pulling you around by your arm until he gets to one of old dungeon cells put high up in a tower. There he finally lets you go by throwing you in. When you try to ask why he's doing this he shushes you with his glare. Pointed and sharp.

He may be father, but he's not going to play nice.

He takes a deep breathe, a crackle of green thunder booms from outside the old brick walls of the castle, before he speaks up.

"You disappoint me. I have given you nothing but love and generosity in the hopes that you would turn out as a kind, loving, and respectful person."

You're at a loss for words as you try to say something, anything, but he glares at you once more and shushes you.

"You are a member of the Draconia Family. There are rules and guidelines we must follow, we can not go around acting like brats and destroying anything we like. And until you adhere to those simple rules, you will no longer be treated as a royal.", His tone was sharper than the deadliest knife. And his words made you more scared of your father than you'd ever been before.

"Your time will be spent either studying or cleaning. In your down time you will be making your food and no servant will be tending to you. Do you understand?" You could only nod dumbly as actual tears welled in your eyes. The sight made him grimace.

"..I love you my dear, but you are a Draconia. And you need to start acting like it." He said, almost as though he was trying to comfort you. Before turning on his heel and walking down the winding steps out of the tower.

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barleyo · 3 months

Note

Hiiii I just read your Daryl fox and omfg I’m frothing at the mouth. HOLY HELL. Anyway I was wondering if you could write another age gap Daryl fic. Maybe this time younger reader has a (very obvious) crush on Dixon. He likes to tease reader and make her blush/ flustered…maybe it eventually leads to some really degrading sex. SORRY I’m so thirsty for this man

Not So Secret.

Modern! Neighbor! Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: please don't apologize for being thirsty for him, because if you're thirsty then i'm downright DEHYDRATED for him :'3 i'm so in love with him!!! like!!! nasty yucky old man!!! who fucks so good and loves younger girls!!! need him fr!! this isn't super plot heavy, sorry for that! hope you like it @dilfismz <3

Tags: age gap (18-19 ish and mid-forties), dub-con, a bit of degradation, public sex, slight name calling, p in v, fingering, overstim

Wordcount: 1k

You must have thought you were so sneaky. That, or you must have thought Daryl was blind. He would have to be to not notice how you stared at him. How you were always conveniently outside in your yard when he was leaving for work was not lost on him. He knew exactly what you were doing when you left your bedroom curtains wide open when you got changed.

It was cute, in a way, but it also pissed him off a little that you were brave enough to do all of that, but not enough to talk to him. You were such a skittish little thing, such a tease.

His breaking point came when you decided to leave your windows and curtains open one night, giving him the opportunity to listen to your moans when you slipped your hands under your panties and played with yourself. He took it upon himself to approach you about your little schemes, ready to get you out of that shell of yours.

The next day was one of the rare ones where he got home from work at the same time that you came home from classes at the local college. Daryl shifted off of his motorcycle once he parked, leaning against it while he waited for you to get out of your car. Once you did, he crossed over the invisible like that separated the two front yards, clearing his throat to get your attention.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of him. "You're off early, Mr. Dixon," you noted, scanning over his well-worn clothes, stains from dirt, oil, and who knows what else marked over them. He may have looked grimy to others, but to you, he looked his best after work.

"Daryl," he corrected, "and yeah, didn't have much to do today. Actually, I need to talk to you." He pocketed his hands, eyes lazily trailing over your body.

"Oh? About what?" You shifted on your feet, feeling warm at the feeling of his prying gaze.

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?" His tone wasn't rough or aggressive, simply questioning.

You were taken aback, unsure of what to say. "What?"

"Do you think that I can't tell you're trying to drive me crazy on purpose? I might be old, but I'm not blind, girl."

"D—doing what? I don't mean to," you said, knowing that's exactly what you were trying to do.

"Don't play dumb," he warned, stepping into your yard and leaning his face close to yours. "One look at you tells me y'know what you're doing. Shame on you, leading a guy on 'n lying right in his face." His handed ghosted one of your hips, just barely passing over it. "Little tease," he said with a scoff, seeing your face twist in embarrassment.

"I'm not!" You leaned into his touch, urging him to keep his hand anchored on your hip. "I'm just— just nervous, you know?"

"I make you nervous?" Daryl's hands continued to travel your body, landing on your ass to pull you closer to him. "Good. That'll make this more fun."

The hot metal of your car's hood stung your back slightly, but the sting was overpowered by the feeling of finger's curling into you. It made up for the hot discomfort. The humiliation that came with being fucked in public, however, was hard for you to get over. Daryl's other hand was used to cover your mouth, muffling your whines.

"You must want to get caught," he said, eyebrows knitted together. "You're so damn loud, the whole neighborhood could hear you if I moved my hand."

Daryl scissored your hole open further, spreading his fingers that fit comfortably inside. He was nice enough to prep you, but cruel enough to overstimulate you. You had already creamed around his fingers twice, just for the power trip it gave him. Evil bastard.

He could feel you start to squeeze around his fingers again, but this time he pulled them out, stealing your orgasm away from you. His satisfied smirk taunted you.

"Why did you stop?" you asked once he finally moved his hand from your mouth. "I was almost there, so close!"

"Wow, do you really need to cum again?" Daryl undid his belt buckle, chuckling dryly. "You're a needy thing. Like a damn whore, jus' wanting more 'n more from me."

He pinched your clit softly, wanting to hear you squeak again.

"You're so mean," you whined, shutting your legs together to stop him from pinching your sensitive bud again.

Daryl let his eyes roll at your dramatics, pulling you to the edge of the car's hood by your hips. He grunted and pushed his length into you roughly, stretching out your walls. You bit back a moan, not wanting to alert anyone to what was happening. When you felt his cock finally enter all the way in, knocking against your sore g-spot, you leaned your head back on the car's windshield for stability.

He was ruthless with his pace, he was far too pent up to take it slow with you.

"Been waitin' so long for this," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Missed having pussy like this."

He gripped his hands into your hips, fingers digging into them while he pulled you back and forth by them, slamming into you harshly. Slick coated the insides of your thighs and dripped onto the hood of your car every time he pulled out, slowly leaking out of you like a faucet.

"You were jus' what I needed, a sweet, stupid little doll," he said, sharply inhaling.

You clamped tightly over him for a final time, sucking him in deeper than he was used to. The flutter of your cunt sent Daryl over the edge, milking him for all he was worth.

He pulled out, running his eyes over how swollen and full he had left you. A small prideful feeling lit in his chest. He still had it in him, fucking was still his specialty.

"Wait, where are you going?" you huffed, seeing him tuck his dick back into his pants. Before you could protest any further, you felt him pull you up and drag you by the hand.

"I'm not done with you, girl. It's getting too dark out to see. My house or yours?"

#barleyxnighteye #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #x reader #the walking dead #tw age gap #twd x reader #daryl dixon #dub con #tw dubcon

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grimm-writings · 5 months

Note

Can I please request a namari x shy female dwarf reader.

The reader is shy but admirers namari from afar ( especially her muscles😍). And namari likes to make her flustered. caging her against the wall, flexing her muscles.

(THERE ARE NO NAMARI X READERS ANYWHERE 😭😢🥺 SHE NEEDS LOVE TOO!)

sweet thing

…ft! namari x fem! reader

…tags! fluff, headcanon format, reader is a dwarf

…wc! 1150

…notes! namari my darling my dearest!!!!!!!! my biggest flex is that her english va clocked me being extremely normal on main for their performance of her 😶 . twice .

Is anyone immune to Namari let’s be real here.

She may not have the most stellar reputation because of her father, but that doesn’t stop her from thriving where she can. Under Mr. Tansu’s employ, she’s been making a better name for herself!

Namari knows what she wants in a partner but she falls apart in actually trying to communicate that. She can be rather shy herself!

When it comes to you, though, she’s determined to make you see that she’s serious about you. Your anxiety overwrites her own!

…That doesn’t mean she won’t go to Kiki and Kaka and ask for advice on how to woo you. She still is pretty shoddy at that.

Honestly, you were mortified when Namari suddenly approached you one day and started talking to you as if you were any other buddy she hung out with. You hardly speak.

Sure, she’s noticed you staring at her from across the bar, and you tend to be somewhere around the corner when she’s in public, but honestly she couldn’t be mad at it!

How can she, when every time she shoots a big grin at you, you immediately flush red and hide your face from her?! You’re just adorable!

Namari asking you out is her avoiding eye contact as she tries to ‘casually’ ask you if you want to get some dinner together. Once you’re out of earshot, she’s pumping her fist and celebrating to herself. She scored a cutie like you!

“So, see you tonight?” Namari cocks her head to the side as she smiles at you. Trying to play it cool is tough. She has no idea how others do it without exploding on the inside. Your smile is enough to make the butterflies in her stomach fly more freely. “I… yeah, tonight!” You nod and grin, turning on your heel to walk away. Once you’re a number of steps away, you stop as the sound of whooping and cheering fills the air just when select conversations die down in volume. Loud and clear, you hear Namari celebrate asking you out. You turn to her, eyes bulging in embarrassment, and Namari mirrors your expression. She tries to brush it off as soon as possible by sending you a thumbs up. “S-Sorry! Just real excited!” You can’t help but giggle. Who knew she’d be such a funny person too. “As am I!” You call back before returning on your way with a dumbstruck grin. “As am I…”

Once you’re officially an item, Namari is a super loving partner! She has her boundaries – such as no PDA around her employers – but when you’re in private this dwarf is all over you.

She gets over the sheepish, unsure wall she previously found it difficult to pass through the more comfortable she gets around you.

Yep, this woman loves to tease. She’ll pick up on things she couldn’t before now that she has the knowledge you’re attracted to her. Oh, you were staring at her so often because you like her muscles? Aw, how cute? Wanna touch?

Take all the time you need to stare as she pushes you up against the wall with a grin.

She’s still pretty easy to fluster herself if you know what to do though.

(LEGS. USE YOUR LEGS, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.)

Her favourite nicknames to use for you are “my girl” and “sweet thing”. Your hers, and you’re awfully sweet to boot!

Namari opens her arms wide for you as you run into her embrace. Her hugs are always the tightest, warmest. If she weren’t so gentle with you she would have noogied you by now. Instead, she instead wraps her arms around your waist and picks you up. You squeak and cling onto Namari’s shoulders as she swings and twirls you around in a circle and then places you down on your feet again. Your giggles are always so musical to the other dwarf’s ears. It’s great to be home. “So,” she releases a breath of laughter with you, “how’s my girl been doing while I was away?”

Since dwarves probably grow body hair pretty frequently, Namari and yourself probably take a lot of days to have self care days!

(I am whispering directly in your ear, reader. Shave your legs in front of her. Do that and she’ll be sent to another dimension and the higher ground will be yours.)

If you’re too shy to be too personal with her, Namari understands, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try and help you out of your comfort zone with baby steps. She’s super encouraging that way!

…Though if you’re like me and prefer a woman with some body hair then you better let her know before these self care days! There’s some motivation for ya.

She’s so endlessly proud of you if you do end up standing up for yourself.

But depending on what you do…

Namari is quite privy to how people tend to talk about her at this point. Even from across the tavern she can sense the sneering and gossipy whispers of a group in a booth further away. You worriedly glance at the group and then back at Namari. “Aren’t you going to do anything?” “No point,” Namari sighs with a shrug. “I’m used to it.” She goes to take another bit of her drink. You ball your fists together. She shouldn’t be. Namari stutters in confusion at you when you push the barstool out and hop off, marching over to the group. She’s so surprised she couldn’t take the chance to stop you. “Do you have anything better to do?” You ask the group. They stop to stare at you. Namari is sure that you’re about to stutter and shy away from the glares you’re being given, but you don’t. One of the people speaks up, “what, like you aren’t hanging around her? Drinking an’ hardly speaking with anyone else!” “Namari spent all day in the dungeon actually making a living for herself. She deserves a break.” You remain steadfast, crossing your arms. Even if you’re smaller than a lot of other races, you still use your bigger proportions to your advantage. “And you’re here just day drinking? I don’t see any spoils, armour or weapons under your table… Goodness, what might your families say?” You soon return to Namari’s side to leave the assholes to ruminate in guilt. Your girlfriend’s mouth is in an ‘O’ shape as she keeps her eyes on you. You glance up at her, your shyness returning. “W-Was that too much?” “Too much?” Namari repeats. “Sweetie, that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen!” “H-Huh?” There you go, flushing red again. Namari takes your hands in her own, squeezing them. “Whaddya know, you ended up being my hero today!” The grin she gives you is the happiest you’ve ever seen her. She really loves you, you know?

#✮ grimm's fics!#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #namari #namari of kahka brud #namari x reader #namari of kahka brud x reader #namari imagines #namari of kahka brud imagines

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siconetribal · 1 month

Text

Beyond the Bookshelves (8)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Friendly banter, overworking

Summary: You’re a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You’ve been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! (If I missed any tags, please let me know, I’ll add you right away!) I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

“You have it?” Loki raised a brow at this, pulling out his phone to see her full name and some extra information about her that Steve had stored on his phone. The sight of it only made his mood even more sour as he shoved the device back into the pocket it came from after saving it. “Quite a bit of information you have saved on here.”

“Yeah? It’s stuff I picked up on overtime.” The innocent, casual shrug of his shoulders held arrogance in the eyes of the God of Mischief. A smug punctuation of how the star-studded super soldier was able to freely come and go from the library and he was not.

“Oh? ‘Just stuff’ that you picked, huh? ‘Overtime’ you say? What kind of ‘just stuff’ did you save overtime?” Tony leaned in closer, a smug little smirk on his face with a twinkle of interest in his eyes.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Tony. Y/N and I are just friends. Don’t go spreading unnecessary rumors. It’s nice to just have someone to talk to and not have to worry too much.” The stern tone in his voice earned a groaning sigh and eye roll from the impulsive scientist. “Also, dating in the workplace is unprofessional and would inevitably lead to complications.”

Romantic involvements are always troublesome. Loki silently agreed, the tension in his shoulders slipping away as Steve made it clear that there was nothing going on between the two of them. The last thing I need is her feeding him misinformation or him spying for her to see what I’m saying or doing. I require access to the library, not an extended sentence. He reasoned with himself.

“Mr. Rules strikes again, don’t you know any other tricks? Or is justice and teacher’s pet your only ones? I don’t even know why I bother talking to you, give me her number. There’s something there, I know there is!” Loki sat up straight at the words that came out of the short Midgardian. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Share her contact with me.” The prince’s eye twitched at the demand. He could not fathom why all of them wanted her number now that it was clear that none of them actually had it. What good was there in having contact information for someone that would never be contacted.

Especially when his interests were more fickle than the tide, ever-changing from one stupid notion to the next.

“I’ll pass on that,” Steve rolled his eyes at the petulant child look that Tony gave him. Loki silently agreed with this decision. “But you’re more than welcomed to get it from yourself.”

No, he is not! What sort of denial is that?! You may as well have given him the damned number if you’re giving permission to get it! His jaw ached from how tightly it was clenched, his leg rapidly bouncing under the table. Thor noticed the changes in his younger brother’s demeanor, but said nothing. He figured the company of the others was the cause, and as the elder of the two, he thought it best that Loki grew accustomed to the presence of the other Avengers.

“Are you gatekeeping her number? Why not just give it to me?”

“Because, I want you to actually work for something. Plus, this is just you trying to get under my skin, and you’re not actually going to go after her to get her number, Tony, I know you. This is a shiny new toy that you’re going to forget about the moment something else comes along.”

“You do like to play with things and toss ‘em aside when you’re bored.” Clint agreed, sipping his drink as he nudged the empty tray forward. “You’re not actually going to call her anyway.”

“Et tu, Robin Hood?” Tony gasped in horror. “Is that what all of you think of me? That I’m someone so callous to just use a poor innocent maiden like Y/N and just throw her away like yesterday’s newspaper the next day? I am offended. I’ll show you, me and her, we’re going to be like this.” He entwined his index and middle finger of one hand before standing up from the table. “You’ll see, and you’ll all regret it!” He threw his nose into the air and left, the others amused by his dramatics as they continued to not take him seriously. The only person not amused was Loki. They all goaded the chatty Tin-Man into actually getting her number instead of leaving her alone, the exact opposite of what should have been done.

It’s horrible enough that Major Constellations over here frequents the place, and he’s friendly with her, now I’ll have to share my sanctuary with that aluminum can? I refuse to accept this! There has to be some logic I’m missing, unless this is all some ploy to ruin my peace and quiet. No, I can’t be, can it? They’re all trying to ruin what little solace I have here? He eyed the remainder of the group suspiciously. Thor is working with me on that infernal project that started this mess, I doubt he is tied to it. The straight-laced sergeant only comes when he needs to for missions. I don’t think I’ve seen the bird-man there. That leaves just that nuisance of an existence, but his focus is currently on troubling their leader. Perhaps that is all there is to it? If it truly is, then I have nothing to worry about, so long as I get to her first and convince her to not share her contact information. To do that, I need her to first lift this Stygian banishment!

“Well, I thank you for her number, you proved most helpful in this matter of miscommunication. I should start putting my efforts towards composing a proper response, so I take my leave.” Loki stood from the table and left without giving anyone a chance to pry anymore than they already had.

“Director Y/LN, looks like everything checks out here. The programs are all running and there hasn’t been any repetition of the errors we first faced.” The weary voice of her subordinate pulled Y/N’s attention from her laptop screen.

“About time,” Y/N pushed a chipper tone into her voice to mask the true exhaustion that had taken lodging inside her. Lacing her fingers together, she turned her palms outwards and stretched as she sighed. “I swear, technology isn’t as amazing as it’s cracked up to be…especially when it flops like this first thing.” She grumbled as she logged the successful trial and cleared this site as operational.

“When it acts up, I can’t agree more. When it’s working, I have no complaints.” Her subordinate’s soft chuckle could not mask the fatigue. “C’mon, it’s late, but we still have time to grab dinner. The rest of us are heading out to celebrate that we’re finally online!” The eager twinkle in those brown eyes made the offer more tempting, but Y/N had to decline.

“You gotta join us, Chief!” Another chimed in, hearing her answer.

“Pretty please?” Came another plea.

“I really wish I could, but I’ve got a red-eye to catch. I need to finalize and submit the report before I’m off.” Y/N closed her laptop and pointed to the large clock on the wall.

“Damn, they’re really not giving you any wiggle room, huh?”

“That’s not fair at all! Other directors don’t go running around like they’re making you. This is abuse!”

“Let’s not get too hasty, I choose to handle certain things personally to make sure it’s done properly. It reduces the chances of unnecessary back-and-forth. Next time we can celebrate, I promise. Thanks for all your hard work, everyone. Let’s keep it up and get this project completed as soon as possible.” With a chorus of confirmations and cheers. Y/N packed her things and gave one last wave before leaving back to her hotel.

She dropped back onto the awaiting mattress, heaving a heavy sigh as she finally let the fatigue show itself. For the last five weeks, Y/N flew between all the S.H.I.E.L.D. locations that had a library department to manage the setup and checks of the new system that was provided per location as promised. She had been formally trained on the software, but sat through the boring session with the staff each and every time it was given. There was no doubt in her mind that if she were to die now, her last words would probably be incoherent ramblings from the lecture. The only good news in all this was that she was finally done. This flight would bring her one step closer to her much-needed comfy bed in her small, cozy apartment.

Forcing herself up, she pulled out her laptop to edit her report one last time before sending it off and logging out for the remainder of the evening. She changed to something comfortable and made sure everything was packed away and ready to go before ordering room service.

At least they don’t cheap out on where I stay and pick up the tab entirely. She leaned back into the padded headboard that was attached to the wall. “Did I check in to my flight? Crap, I don’t think I did.” She muttered, feelings round the covers until she found her phone hidden away under a pillow. A good hour and a half was burned away through all her editing and rechecking the report. Her stomach growled in protest. Gently patting the disgruntled creature, she quickly checked in through the app and sighed with relief at the boarding pass notification on her status bar. It was then that she noticed the message notification that was sitting there unread, still.

The corners of her lips tugged downwards into a frown. Y/N could have sworn that she read all of her messages. Opening the texting application, she noticed the unknown number had sent about 3 messages to her, the latest being from a couple of days ago. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the glowing screen, trying to recall anything. When nothing came to her, she gave in and opened the chat. Her jaw dropped as it all cam rushing back to her.

Oh shit, I’m in trouble now! She lightly and rapidly hit the heel of her left hand into her forehead several times. Way to go, Y/N, you completely ignored someone for almost three weeks now! “What do I do, what do I do?! Obviously, I need to reply, but how?!” She bit her lower lip, typing, reading, erasing, and retyping too many times to count before giving up at the knock at her door. Paying the server a tip, she sat at the table and began to eat. Clearly she needed food to get her brain in some semblance of working order as she reread the messages.

<Librarian, this is Loki, the second prince of Asgard. It has come to my attention that you have been working under a misunderstanding. Remove the banishment order.> It was the first text that came roughly three weeks ago.

<Librarian, this is not amusing. You placed a banishment order with no means for me to rectifying your misunderstanding by leaving the facility. Remove it at once.> This second text came four days after the first.

<Why do you not answer me, woman? I have repeatedly asked you to remove your misguided decision, and it has yet to be fixed.> This text, which made her snort, came almost two weeks ago. <I know you have read my texts.>

None of this is asking me anything, you’re demanding. She rolled her eyes.

<Perhaps my prior texts were not properly worded. As per the insistent pestering of my brother and the others, I am messaging you again. I did not intentionally ignore you the day you banished me from the library. I had just come from a lengthy training session and review/strategy meeting afterwards. The only thing I had done between then and arriving at the library was to refresh myself in my quarters to be more presentable in public. The ‘promise’ I made slipped my mind completely, but I had no control over that matter due to how long it took. You make ask your precious admiral if you wish to confirm my story, or you can request the data of that session to prove the time. With all that being said, I understand why you would be upset. I would greatly appreciate it if you would remove the order given to the system so that I may read peacefully in the library once more.> She was surprised to see such a lengthy text coming after all the short, demanding ones that came before it. What surprised her even more was the last text sent earlier today when she was fighting with the program errors. <Are you alright? You have not read my last text.><Sorry for replying so late, I was tied up with my work. Also, I accept your ‘apology’. By ‘admiral’, do you mean CAPTAIN America, Steve?> It took her a minute to realize who he was referring to, and she nearly fell out of her seat laughing at the mistake no one has ever made. At least not to her. <Why would I go ask him or check the records? I doubt you’re lying about a long session, I trust you. Sadly, you’ll have to wait until I’m back on site to cancel the order. I can only do those type of changes while on S.H.I.E.L.D. grounds and on their network. Good news is I’ll be back Monday, so just two more days!> She confidently sent her reply and finished the rest of her meal. Glancing at the clock, she sighed and called for the driver to come as she made her way to the lobby and checked out. Soon you’ll be home, Y/N, soon.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @jainaeatsstars @msdjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @evalynanne

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copperbadge · 11 months

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Hello, Mr. Badge, I seem to remember that you once posted about your processes and systems for staying organized in life with Excel spreadsheets etc. I’ve been struggling a lot with depression and executive dysfunction issues and don’t want it to impact my work.

Do you use the same processes at work? I get overwhelmed with the amount of documentation we have and the exceptions to the rules in our processes.

I'm so sorry you're struggling! It's really rough, and the more complicated the task feels, the more fraught it seems, the harder it is to even get a start. I feel that hard.

As for organizing work like my home life....well, it's sort of the same. I don't make a strong distinction between life and work simply because a lot of what needs organizing in my life IS my work, so it's tough to talk about them separately.

For example, I use Google Tasks to build a to-do list each day, but that to-do list starts with "stuff I'll do before work" then "shower" then all my work stuff, then "evening" and then all the stuff to do after work, ending with "7pm chores" (because I have a lot of stuff to do right around 7pm, which I need to post about elsewhere). Then the stuff I've pushed off to next day is below that, and that just bumps up the next morning. What's important isn't really how I keep the list, but that I keep it in a way that is constantly accessible, and I've trained myself to 1. put everything on it, even stuff like "grocery shop" and 2. check it whenever I feel lost. I don't find google calendars very helpful, however, so while work makes me use one for meetings, everything else goes on a calendar I made in Google Sheets that I'm just super used to by now.

It sounds like you're having a fairly specific issue, which may not even be related to your mental health (though assuredly the mental health issues aren't helping). If you have a lot of confusing documentation and exceptions in the stuff you do at work, that can be legit stressful even for someone who isn't dealing with other stuff, so I just want you to know that this may not only be a You Problem. My problem is usually the opposite, in that I'm often the first person doing something, or the only person who's done it in a while, so there's no documentation at all. But when I do have documentation I often will simply rewrite it.

After all, just because you have a handbook doesn't mean you have to use it. You can copy it over into another document and make yourself a step-by-step guide and/or a checklist. Like, I do our holiday cards every year, and my "HOLIDAY CARDS" document says "Here's the first thing you do, here's the second, do this before going past that, check this before asking for that". Literally at one point the document says "Stop. Before you go any further, do this step. Even if you don't understand why, do this step" because in the past I've disregarded that instruction ("Why on earth would I do it this way?") and lived to regret it.

Making the guide really, really sucks. Often it will take me four or five passes at a project before my guide is comprehensive (this is my fifth year doing the holiday card project and the document still has some steps missing at the end). But once you have it, it's invaluable, and often in the past I've found other people want my guides because they're fairly clear and precise about what needs doing when. For example, you might say, "Open the file and move column B to in front of column A. NOTE: THERE IS ONE EXCEPTION, THIS IS THE EXCEPTION." Or "Once you've saved the file, save a second copy to your backup folder so you can go back to it if you delete something you shouldn't. Stop and check: is this file from before or after October? If after, remember, you have to also rename it." If you find that there's a mistake you make frequently, figure out what would stop you from making it and add that in.

(We had a guy at work whose last name was VERY long and Italian, and so when I was working phones he got a special entry in the directory document I made -- the first line was all his directory info and the second line was just the phonetic pronunciation of his last name. He found out, which I had never intended him to do, and lost his shit laughing. "No wonder you're the only one who gets it right!")

So my recommendation to you is to create your own handbook, your own templates, and your own way of doing things and just slip that back into the system you have at work. Draw a diagram by hand if you need a flow chart. My approach to all my organizational issues has always been "What would make me do this correctly / prevent me from doing that thing wrong / remind me what to do / make it easier for me to start".

I think of this nowadays as the "Take the cupboard doors off" school of organizing, because to really make full use of my kitchen in a way that I liked, I had to take some of the cupboard doors off. It looks messier and kind of cheap, but it's actually a much more organized system now, and who's in my kitchen other than me?

#sam has adhd #adhd #organizing

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jadeddangel · 7 months

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Could you do some head cannons for Sundrop, Moondrop and eclipse x handler and general technician reader (preferably trans masc reader but GN is fine too)

OF COURSE NEW FRIEND!!

The drops with a Trans-Masc handler

Art is not mine

Sundrop:

As soon as you meet him he's immediately asking your Pronouns and what you wanna be addressed as

He made you a little pin with your Pronouns and preferred name

He gives you little pictures of him and the other drops that you can cut away from the paper and put in the back of a clear phone case

He gets jealous, like super easy

Oh? Your giving a kid a talk about not bullying? He's behind you waiting for you to be free

He purposefully gets dirty just so you wash him

He tries to convince you to stay in the daycare over night

Literally just a whiny baby

He crouched down when he talks to you since he's almost 10 ft tall (a little over 3 meters)

If you don't give him attention when he wants it and your in the daycare alone, he will bite you

Not even sexually just bite you to get your attention

"Oh Mr. Attendent?! Mr.attendent?" Sun called out trying to get your attention.

Your music was in your headphones and was so loud you couldn't hear him.

Next thing you know you feel teeth pinch into your arm, not hard enough to draw blood but it still hurt

"OW SUN WHAT THE FU -" "No cussing in the daycare!" Sun cut you off happily before shoving a drawing in your face "anyway! Look what I drew!!"

Yeaaaa, there was a reason your pay was so high

Moondrop:

Tried to get you to join nap time the first time he met yoy but quickly adapted to leaving you out of it

If your wearing a binder he insists you take a break with it off during naptime

He mostly just sits quietly while you do what your doing

If your drawing his eyes make the perfect light that won't wake the kids up

He doesn't really care if you cuss while the children are asleep as long as you keep your voice down

Tends to look over your shoulder when your on your phone

He doesn't struggle to get your attention since all he has to do is close his eyes and it's noticeable

Moon sighed shaking his head before closing his glowing red eyes.

You pouted "Moon I was coloring. What do you need?" You asked quietly

Moon opened his eyes. " Nap time is ending soon if you want to put your binder on," Moon reminded

Overall as long as you behave he behaves

Eclipse:

Knew all about you from what sun and moon had told him

He likes to wander around the pizza plex with you after hours

He's over 16ft don't ask me how, just take my word as gospel

He only lets you cuss if you hurt yourself if you just cuss freely he may let it go once or twice but if it gets repetitive he gives you a warning

It's not a nice warning either

"Oh dear friend, it seems like you can't keep the cussing under wraps, and although it is after hours and we are not in the daycare, remember, your words matter, and they will get you hurt if you don't stop ..... anyway!"

Be scared shitless if this man threatens you

He'll act like the warning never happened as long as you behave

But if you don't, well, I hope you have life insurance

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reidslovely · 1 year

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there were two things that came to mind the first being peter yelling at her and he’s never done that before so reader trying to avoids him for the rest of the day and when she does interact with him she’s silent or acting almost robotic

the second one that came to mind was them getting into a fight and her trying to quit

i see your second thought being super plausible honestly, but let’s combine them. peter is very particular about his schedule and follows it to a t for the most part. the fight started the first or second week she works for him. all over a missed appointment and she swears she wrote it down, but peter is upset because he doesn’t have time for this meeting. he’s got lab time, and a presentation today. he doesn’t have time to meet with this potential investor today.

“what do you mean you missed a appointment!” peter yelled. the slight raise in his voice shocked her as well as him. he cleared his throat and left his suit jacket on the back of his desk chair. “can you not operate the shared calendar i swear doll it’s like you’re completely helpless sometimes.”

that comment strikes a nerve, and it doesn’t help she’s already on the verge of tears from him yelling. peter’s never made her feel so small. in fact he’s only ever been encouraging. and supportive of her she wasn’t helpless, she was learning the ropes of this company still. and her boyfriend being who he was didn’t help, everyone else just assumed she batted her eyes and but her lip to the position.

“well i’m sorry pete.” she jokes dryly lightly trying not to show her hurt. “we can’t all be a super genius”

“yeah but i expected better from you.” all over a calendar

he walks away annoyed. she doesn’t know if it’s with her or the situation but the tone of his voice alone makes her sick to her stomach. she brings him his lunch quietly and doesn’t bother to eat with him like she usually does. she keeps their interaction short and firm.

“doll can you make a call for me?”

“sure.” she nodded not even looking at him as she takes the paper.

“doll.” his voice sung out later, “will you get these filed for me?” he kissed her temple hands on her shoulders squeezing. she shrugged him off nodding.

“right away mr. parker.”

he was thinking of a way to apologize. sending flowers to her desk probably wouldn’t do much and may insight a few scoffs from other employees. not wanting to embarrass her he settled on waiting till they were alone in the building to formally apologize.

but she comes into his office a few hours later before they leave to go home with her two weeks in shaky hand.

“doll..what’s this?” peter asked reading over the paper, hand reaching out for her shaking one pulling her closer to him.

“i don’t wanna work for you. i’m..i’m scared it’ll ruin our relationship.” she mumbled out tears threatening her eyes. peter’s heart swelled in his chest feeling lodged in his throat. “and i really like being your girlfriend and i love you and i don’t..i don’t want you to yell at me over a stupid google calendar.”

“oh doll..no. i was upset earlier i didn’t mean it. i wasn’t even upset at you it was just time stress.” he sat her on his knee. arm wrapping around her waist holding her in place to look at him. “i wasn’t mad or disappointed at all. i know i said something really hurtful and i’m very sorry. and i’m even more sorry for yelling at you.” she sniffled as he spoke, her hand resting on his chest flattening out some wrinkles. he whispered softly to her his free hand rubbing her side.

“i want you here. okay? but if you want to quit i understand and i won’t stop you but i’ll be sure to use my words more carefully and i will never raise my voice again. i am so sorry and i’m going to do better.”

the care in his voice made it easy to believe him, that and his big doe eyes staring into hers assuring her this was the truth.

“don’t ever yell at me again and i’ll stay.” she bargains. peter laughed bobbing his head.

“deal.”

“and i want a raise. for dealing with you here and at home” peter laughed this time throwing his head back.

“i’ll talk to human resources about the ethical standards about that.” he responds standing her up off his lap. as he packs up his office for the night.

“m.j.’s your human resources officer i think she’ll agree with me.” you hummed turning the light off as they left the room.

#bambi talks #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #andrew garfield #bambi and friends #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm spiderman #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x self insert #ceo!peter #ceo!peter parker

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purplealmonds · 6 months

Text

I watched the Mononoke Zashikiwarashi stage play!!

I watched the performances on 03/29 and 03/30, and I have so many Thoughts. But I’m on vacation and haven’t the spoons to draft them up coherently until I return home in a few days.

For now, I'll do a photo/art dump of my experience.

I arrived a few hours early to the theater (I had to take the train from Kyoto to Osaka, and built in time for potential navigational incompetence). While I waited for the theater to open up, cracked open my iPad and started painting in Procreate.

This is the exterior of Cool Japan Park Osaka's WW Hall. Shaking off a lot of rust from painting from observation, but I'm happy with how the colors came out.

Photo for reference, though I painted it live. Shadows moved quite a bit while I worked because I am slow.

This is the interior of the theater. I was forbidden from taking photo and video of this space, so I painted it it, albeit messily because of the short time I had before the performance began.

Winding back time a bit, here's the cardboard cutout stand the theater staff set out right before they started admitting people into the lobby:

It was a bit windy that day, so it actually snapped in half mere minutes after its installation lmao. Not pictured is the flustered staff tying Mr. Medicine Seller to the railing with some twine.

Selfie taken after the disaster:

Keeping an eye on Mr. Medicine Seller to ensure he doesn't misbehave agains, prints in hand to be gifted to unsuspecting theater-goers:

When I was seated, some of the giftees stopped by to gift me with an acrylic standee and a cookie! The standee is given exclusively to audience members who preordered their tickets super early, so it's amazing I got my hands on one! After the performance, someone also posted my art on their instagram story! O:

The performance visual, gift shop, and posters were also deployed around this time.

Also was pleasantly surprised to see a huge Mononoke Karakusa poster displayed. Unlike typical movie posters, this one was printed on a rather thick matte rather than thin translucent gloss paper.

And here's the merch and goodies I acquired at the lobby:

I was originally buying just the pamphlet, but as you can see I did a few more impulse purchases! I ended up getting:

📖 Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet - Hoping if productions of other episodes are a thing this can become a collection. The Bakeneko pamphlet was also sold here. If there's interest I can do a flip-through video of both the Bakeneko and Zashikiwarashi pamphlets!

🎟️Mononoke Karakasa Bonus Gifts: I thought it was just the clear file and a neat lil trading card but it seems like the trading card is actually a movie ticket??? I’m not gonna be in Japan when the movie comes out though but it’s a nice souvenir nonetheless!

🌇 Mononoke Karakasa flyer - The theatre had massive stacks of them to be taken freely. The first one got a bit wrinkled on my ride back to the hotel, so I grabbed 2 more after watching the 2nd performance!

💿Bakeneko Blu-Ray - This was something I thought I’d never get my hands as a US resident so I was pleasantly surprised they were selling this. Definitely a pretty penny but now I get to watch it at my leisure when I get home! May do a write up about it eventually. The Zashikiwarashi Blu-Ray actually went on sale today, but it only delivers in Japan. Sighhh. I guess I have no choice but to fly back when the Umi Bozu stageplay goes live. Or if it pops up on Mercari some time in August the price gouging hopefully won't be too horrific.

#mononoke 2007 #mononoke 2024 #モノノ怪 #mononoke #butai mononoke #mononoke karakasa #purplealmonds #blogging #2024 #🔕

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vickyvicarious · 1 year

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The death alarms must be blaring loud in Mina's ears by now. "God bless and keep him" is as if she wants to manifest him being alive. While getting radio silence from him, coupled with her new friend telling her that he'll soon die (which made her tear up), and then Indeed Dying, her reading about the ship of death, the funerals...

Absolutely, they're blaring nonstop.

She hasn't heard from Jonathan in a long time. Actually, let's take a look at this timeline of Jonathan's letters...

12 May - Sent two letters (one each to Mina and Mr. Hawkins) on Dracula's behest saying he's leaving in a month.

19 May - Made to write three dictated letters.

28 May - Real letters confiscated, shorthand one to Mina burned. One supposedly sent to Mr. Hawkins telling him to talk to Mina (may have just been a taunt from Dracula/may not have actually been sent).

12 June - Expected departure based on 12 May letter. Dictated letter that he'll be leaving in a few more days mailed.

19 June - Dictated letter that he's leaving the next day mailed.

29 June - Dictated letter that he is in Bistritz mailed.

1 July - Mina presumably receives letter from 12 May (see 1 August). Expects him home soon based on the contents.

25 July - Letter to Mr. Hawkins arrives (forwarded to Mina next day). Seems to be the one sent on 19 June based on the contents.

1 August - Mina says she hasn't heard from him in a whole month (probably referencing a letter to her specifically, must be the one from 12 May). "I hope there cannot be anything the matter with Jonathan."

3 August - "Oh, I do hope he is not ill."

8 August - "Somehow I felt glad that Jonathan was not on the sea last night, but on land. But, oh, is he on land or sea? Where is he, and how?"

10 August - "I should be quite happy if I only knew if Jonathan.... God bless and keep him."

So yeah, it seems like she hasn't gotten a letter directly from Jonathan in over a month - and I'm willing to bet that letter wasn't super effusive. It still was nowhere near as alarming as the one she was forwarded from Mr. Hawkins later, though. That one is even more directly dictated by Dracula and she's very clear that it doesn't seem like Jonathan's usual writing style. She even suspects a forgery, but his handwriting convinces her otherwise in the end.

If I'm reading this correctly, it took about 8 weeks for Mina to get the letter Jonathan wrote on 12 May, and about 5 weeks for Mr. Hawkins to get the one sent on 19 June. Assuming the latter timeline is more typical (since who knows how long Dracula took to get around to mailing that first letter; the later three are specifically dated), the letter saying he's in Bistritz is actually already running a week late. (If we split the difference, then it could be expected very soon, though.) Meanwhile, for all Mina knows Jonathan left the castle just about two months ago and hasn't communicated at all since. Setting aside that it should not take him that long to come home (I don't have the time right now to look up how long the journey is supposed to take, but definitely less than this), it's still wildly out of character for him not to let her know if he has been delayed further for some reason.

So yeah, that's all deeply alarming. And then we get on to her pleasantly distracting summer vacation, which so far is anything but. Lucy is sleepwalking, Mrs. Westenra is freaked about it, Mina has to watch over her and thus is getting little sleep herself. This doubtless increases her stress levels on its own, but I suspect also is what leads her to hint at him possibly being ill. She does the same thing later on; after there is a bad storm and a ship crashes ashore with no one alive aboard, she doubts whether he is on sea and wonders where he is. And then today, after attending the funeral/after her friend's death, she comes close to wondering if he is even alive, before trailing off and just praying for him instead.

All the bad stuff happening around her keeps making her think of what might be happening to Jonathan too, and the possibilities are just steadily getting worse... but all could end in death. Maybe he caught some illness and died with no one looking after him (Lucy). Maybe he was traveling on a ship and drowned in a storm (Demeter). Maybe he was attacked and murdered (Mr. Swales - though Mina doesn't say he has been, the nature of his death could easily remind her of such a possibility).

Maybe this all happened weeks ago.

She has no way of knowing, and thus nothing she can do about it. Last she heard he'd left the castle, so even if she wanted to go search for him (and somehow found the money for a sustained search), she wouldn't have any clear destination. It's just "somewhere between Transylvania and England" and that's a big space. So all she can do is worry over him. Try to deny the possibility.

Pray.

#dracula daily #mina murray #jonathan harker #jonmina #anonymous #replies

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crayfurbs · 1 year

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how did you do a new furby custom how

OK so the first thing that I ended up doing was drawing up some concepts of 1998 furbies that I liked as the 2023 furby.

The design that I ended up going with was the skunk just because to me that feels like the “furbiest” furby if that makes sense

So after I had my concept in mind, I started to skin the Furby, again. As you may have noticed in my previous posts, I had skinned this furby previously, which is why I felt more comfortable, making him into a custom.

After skinning, I did some minor disassembly, mainly taking off the ears and the eyes. I haven’t quite figured out a good enough way to takeoff the feet yet.

For the eyes, I wanted to try and take the paint off and prime them so I worked my way up from solvents finding that 99% IPA was the best, I took the eye paint off, and then proceeded to give the eyelid section a coat of black paint

I then started on the face plate, painting, it, black, and giving everything a coat of Mr. super clear and while that was drying I started on the eyes and did my first test fit

after finishing the eyes and leaving them to dry, I started on patterning the pelt,

I used standard methods, scanned it, and then imported it into inkscape where I cleaned it up and cut it out. It was pretty simple (only 3 pieces) so it was a very quick process to sew it and the faceplate back on, I was then able to do my 2nd test fits.

After the 2nd test fit, I decided to try and work on the heart gem, it’s a bit finicky so I had to use a pretty thick embroidery needle to push and pick the fur into place but I got it,

I didn’t take any pics of reassembly because getting the ears back on is pretty frustrating, but here we are

I was super happy with the final result, all and all it only took me 2-3 hours to complete and was pretty fun to do.

I wouldn’t say it was a very complex disassembly process, you didn’t have to deal with any eyechips to change the eyes, yet the eyes weren’t an accessible like on a 2005. The pelt was also pretty straightforward , only being 2 pieces before I modified it so it could be sewn In less than 5 minutes. All of the parts unscrew pretty easily and go back together really well, and the plastic takes paint amazingly. It’s a pretty solid base for customs

But ye, that’s how I ended up making Slunk. :p

#furbyfandom #furby1998 #furbycommunity #safefurby #furbylove #90s nostalgia #kidcore #vintage #furbycore #furby #toy making #custom toys #custom 2023 furby #2023 furby #furby 2023

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alphashley14 · 3 months

Text

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev

Chapter 25

Erase Me (Original Demo)

Mystery Incorporated didn’t talk much in the few minutes before they arrived at their destination. There had been plenty of idle chatter about Hatecraft’s new boyfriend. And plenty of speculation about what exactly Mystery had said to Mr. Ellison. Or what he may have shown him for that matter - the writer had been very pale when Mystery had brought him back.

Then Lewis had dropped a bomb on them about Arthur’s flash drive. And if they had to use it, it would fall upon at least one member of Mystery Incorporated to watch it.

… All things considered it made sense why they hadn’t heard about it before now but the timing was still shit.

Daisy Blake’s impressive property, as with many wealthy homes, was surrounded by a tall wrought iron fence, and the road was blocked by a gate. Given such, when Mystery Incorporated and the Mystery Skulls pulled up to it, it fell upon Daphne to get them buzzed inside. She leaned over Fred on all fours, reached her arm out the driver’s side window, and- hesitated.

“We’re doomed,” Daphne gulped.

“Is your relationship with Daisy really that awful?” Lewis asked over the two-way radio. Having three (albeit adopted) sisters of his own, he sometimes struggled to see how siblings could be anything but inseparable. With Daphne however, it seemed that wasn’t the case.

“It’s pretty bad,” Velma said back. “She commissioned us to retrieve a necklace of hers once after it was stolen by a Hodag, and she was super rude the entire time we were here.”

“Ugh, this is a bad idea. Even if it is the only one we’ve got,” Daphne groaned.

“Come on though. She can’t be completely heartless, right? I mean she’s a doctor. Isn’t caring about people in her job description?” Vivi asked.

“Yeah you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Daphne griped. “Well I’ve never seen her at work but I can definitely say I’ve never seen her flex a selfless muscle in her body outside of it. As for Steve, he’s… I haven’t talked to him that much but he seems like a good guy. But don’t be fooled. He’s from… ‘our world’. So he can slither around in a den of vipers just as well as Daisy.”

“Be that as it may,” Mystery interjected. “What choice do we have?”

“And if all else fails, there’s always the flashdrive…” Lewis reminded them all.

As if they needed reminding.

Without further ado, Daphne rang the buzzer.

They waited.

Daphne rang it again.

Just as she was about to hit it a third time, a voice drawled through the intercom, “Who is it?”

“Hi Daisy!” Daphne said as nicely as she could. Though there was an ugly grimace on her face seen only by the other occupants of the Mystery Machine. “Iiit’s Daphne.”

“Daaaphne. Finally taking me up on my offer to bring your little trap-maker by for polo?”

“Fraid’ not, sis. We need to talk. I’m calling in an I-owe-you from when my friends and I braved a Hodag on your behalf. Unless you’ve forgotten?”

“An I-owe-you?” Daisy scoffed. “And here I thought favors among family were supposed to be unconditional.”

Daphne took a deep breath as if she was about to shout, but Velma placed a hand on her shoulder. “Gently, Daphne….”

Daphne let that breath out, then took a second deep breath to gather herself. “Daisy,” she finally said, “you’ve made it abundantly clear my entire life that asking anything of you is pointless. That’s why I stopped trying years ago. Do you really think I’d come to you now if it wasn’t important?”

Daisy said nothing on the other end of the line.

“Please, Daisy!” Daphne groaned. “I need your help right now more than I have ever needed it in my entire life. Just- hear me out and I will never ask anything of you again. Please.”

A moment’s pause.

Then there came a loud BZZZZZZT, and the gates swung open.

Daphne sighed with relief and sat back in her seat. Much to Fred’s relief - Daphne hovering over his lap like that was giving him some weird feelings. But for now, they would have to go into a box to be sorted out later. A big, thick steel box with the best locks his brain could conjure.

They had a job to do.

Three minutes later the two vans were parked and Daisy’s mansion was towering imposingly before them. Once both groups were squeezed onto the front porch, it was one again time to ring the doorbell. “This is going to be a dumpster fire,” Daphne groaned.

“Come on. I know the odds are against us, but she’s your sister,” Vivi said, trying to be supportive. “If you go in thinking this is going to go badly, then it will. Just think positive!”

“Okay - I am positive this is going to be a dumpster fire.”

Vivi opened and closed her mouth before finally pulling out her phone. “Ya know what? That was funny. I’m writing that down.”

“Regardless of how this goes, with or without using the footage, the result will be the same,” Mystery said. “I want to avoid it if I can, but know this: we have exactly one plan and are pressed for time. Daphne - I will put a spell on your sister if I have to. So for her sake, you’d better use every bit of cunning and charm that you possess.”

“So like, it’s a good thing Daphne has so much of both!” Shaggy said, flashing her two thumbs up.

“Reah!” “You’ve got this Daph!” Scooby and Fred cheered.

With a heavy sigh, Daphne moved to hit the doorbell, but the door swung open a split-second before she could. And there was Daisy Blake, looking not too pleased to see her sister there unannounced. And even more displeased when she saw just how much company she’d brought with her.

“Daphne.”

“Daisy.”

“You sure brought a lot of friends. I didn’t realize you had this many outside your little mystery club.”

Daphne’s eye twitched. “Well - you learn something new every day, don’t you?” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ve met Fred, Velma, and Scooby. This is Vivi, Lewis, Arthur, and Mystery. Is Steve home?”

“Yeah, and he’s enjoying a quiet morning in. He worked a twelve hour shift yesterday,” Daisy said, not-so-subtly hinting that they should make this quick. Unfortunately, everyone but Daisy knew that would not be happening.

“Then we’re sorry to disturb him,” said Vivi. “But we need to talk to both of you.”

“To both of us? Just what kind of favor do you have in mind?” Daisy scoffed.

“I have a patient for you,” Daphne said. “And to say the situation is complicated would be an understatement. Can we talk about the details inside?”

To the untrained eye, Daisy’s expression did not change. But the older mystery solvers could all see a calculating glint hiding behind her mascara as Daisy gave a deceptively nonchalant shrug and waved them inside.

Daisy led them through a maze of large rooms and clean, geometric shapes. Where Hatecraft’s home had celebrated the gothic past, Daisy Blake’s home was grounded in the future. It was dominated by whites, grays, and blues with dashes of magenta, and the art on the walls was inspired by the human body.

It all made Vivi extremely uncomfortable, and she knew Arthur would hate it here if Shaggy wasn’t walking around in his body right now. The medical motifs and overall lack of character reminded her of a hospital or a doctor’s office. And indeed, many of the “modern” light fixtures and furniture looked as if they’d been taken directly from the couple’s profession. Vivi had spent enough time in hospitals for a lifetime - staying by her friend’s side while he recovered from having his arm ripped off.

Daisy led them into a spacious living room and sweetly called out, “Stevie darling, we have company.”

And while there were many less-than-pleasant things that could be said about Daisy Blake, there was real tenderness in her voice for her betrothed, and her face softened when he turned around from where he sat on the couch watching a medical drama.

Steve Poindexter was as wealthy as he was handsome. Nothing less would please a woman like Daisy. And while he was quite a few years older than her (Daisy was twenty-four and he was thirty-five) there was nothing untoward about their relationship and they were very much in love.

“Who is it, Daisy Belle? Friends of yours?” He asked, pausing the TV and getting up.

“Not at all,” Daisy said. “You remember my littlest sister Daphne, I’m sure. And these are some of her little Mystery-solving friends.”

“I know who you are,” Steve said. “Some of my colleagues were there the night you captured a Headless Horror at the hospital. And I was called in to treat one of the victims of the cicada attacks for nerve damage after the bugs wrecked his car. He couldn’t sleep through the night until you kids caught the perpetrator. And for that you have my thanks.”

Mystery Incorporated straightened a little from the uncommon moment of praise for their efforts.

“-But I get the impression this isn’t a social call.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Daphne. “We need your help. Specifically: we have a patient who needs your help.”

“That’s right - you said something about a patient. So, who is it and what’s the problem?” Daisy asked.

All seven of them glanced at each other.

“Can we sit down?” Daphne asked.

Daisy raised an eyebrow, but allowed it. And once they were all seated around the room across from Daisy and Steve, they began to tell their story.

“You said you treated a victim of the cicada attacks,” Velma said.

“I did,” said Steve.

“Then you must be familiar with Destroido.”

“Uh, who in Crystal Cove isn’t familiar with Destroido?” Daisy asked in a do-you-think-we’re-stupid? tone of voice.

“Fair,” Velma shrugged. “Getting to our point, you might have heard about those kids that disappeared in the caves twenty years ago.”

“Kids that- Oh yeeeah, those weirdos. I was a few years younger than them, but I saw them around school every now and again,” Steve said. “There was always weird stuff happening around those freaks. And their parrot gave me the creeps.”

“Oh yeeeah… I was like super little when that happened,” Daisy drawled. “Didn’t you find them though? ...Some of them, anyway? Mommy and Daddy hosted a party for trap-boy’s parents here a while back, right?”

“Yeeeah…” Fred sighed.

“Ohhhh that’s right. You’re the kid the old mayor got locked up for kidnapping,” Steve cringed.

“That’s me…” Fred said awkwardly.

“Anyway!” Dahne interjected. “We actually did find all of them. In fact the other two had both been living in Crystal Cove under new identities for some time. Cassidy Williams is actually Angel Dynamite, the DJ at K-Ghoul radio.”

“Wait- The one that exploded? Didn’t you used to be there all the time?” Daisy asked.

“That’s the one,” Daphne said, shocked Daisy had paid her enough attention to know that. “-And the last one, Ricky Owens, has been going by Mr. E… he’s the owner of Destroido.”

If Steve or Daisy had been drinking something, they undoubtedly would have spat it out. “Whaaat?”

“It’s true,” Vivi said. “And he’s also the patient we need you to treat.”

“Isn’t the owner of Destroido like… a billionaire? And a total recluse?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. How the heck did you get involved with someone like that?” Daisy asked.

“And for that matter, why doesn’t he just hire us himself if he needs treatment? Or go to the hospital? Why would he need some kids to seek out our services for him?” Steve asked.

“Like- hoh boy, those are all excellent questions,” Shaggy gulped.

“And that is what we meant when we said this situation was complicated,” said Velma.

“But before we tell you anything else - Daisy, Steve, I need you to promise that none of it leaves this room,” Daphne said. “If we don’t have your discretion, people could get seriously hurt. Possibly even die.”

Daisy started to laugh. But then she saw the look on her sister’s face, and the haughty facade melted away a little bit more. “Oh… oh shit, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Like I said,” Daphne sighed, “I wouldn’t have bothered coming to you if it wasn’t important.”

Daisy and Steve looked at each other and came to a silent agreement. “Alright,” said Daisy, “you have my word.”

“We’re no strangers to confidentiality,” Steve said with a nod. “But I reserve the right to use my best judgment.”

“If you have any respect for yourselves, your profession, or your patients,” Mystery growled, “you’ll treasure the trust being placed in your hands and keep your mouths shut.”

Daisy and Steve stared at him. “Just so we’re clear… that dog just talked. Right?” Asked Steve.

“See, Darling? I told you weird things happen around Daphne. But I thought that was the one who talks.”

“Reah. I can talk too,” said Scooby.

Steve blinked at him. “... Huh.”

“Ha! If you think that’s weird, you are not prepared,” Vivi scoffed.

“So? Do we have your confidentiality or not?” Asked Mystery.

Steve was now wearing the same calculating look as his betrothed. “...Alright.”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Cassidy Williams woke very suddenly to an empty room.

What in the world? How did I- Mystery! That son of a bitch! Grumbling curses under her breath, Angel sat up with a groan, stretching this way and that to relieve the stiffness in her limbs before her eyes wandered to the empty spot on the couch where Ricky had been. Then she spotted two pieces of stationary on the coffee table. After reading them, she realized that he must’ve woken up a while ago and wandered off to find something to do.

Cassidy stood and stretched once more to loosen the sore muscles in her thighs and buttocks, and then there came a happy trilling sound. When she looked up, she found two Dead Beats floating into the room towards her. “Hey babies, how you doin?” Angel chuckled as they snaked around her neck and torso for pets. “You mind showin’ me where that fool Ricky got to?”

The little ghosts gave an affirming chirp and made a “follow me!” motion with their nubby little arms.

They found Ricky in the kitchen. The lights were off in the daytime and the only light was streaming in from a window above the sink. Bubbles drifted lazily through the air, catching the light with sparkling rainbow sheens before popping in a shower of tiny droplets like falling stars. And standing at the sink, jacket tied around his waist and his bare arms elbow-deep in soapy water, was Ricky. Well- Ricky-in-Shaggy’s-body, that is.

His back was to the door, and he was working his way through the mountain of dirty dishes from their huge breakfast that morning. There were also Dead Beats all over the place. There had to be at least twenty! Ricky would finish a dish, inspect it, then hold it up and a Dead Beat would take it and either find a place in the dishwasher or carefully stack it in one of the cabinets. Those that weren’t helping were hanging around the room watching Ricky work. There was a radio on the counter playing one of their hosts’ more upbeat, hopeful-sounding songs, and Ricky was lightly bobbing his head along while the Dead Beats pulsed and hummed to the beat.

“-In this life, it changes for the better, babe. And right now, I feel it, overtaking meee~…. Oooh. “Said please baby, please. Erase me. Erase my mind again-”

Cassidy hadn’t seen him so content since she’d arrived. For a few moments she was content to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him. But she knew she couldn’t lurk forever.

“Hey, baby.”

Shaggy’s body jumped in a way that was utterly and completely Ricky, and when he spun around his entire face was as pink as the Dead Beats. “Ca-Cassidy! Uh- hi. I was just- dishes,” He stammered. In a way that was just as stupid as it was endearing, and his own embarrassment only turned his face redder.

“And just like before, we’ll fall in love.”

Cassidy snorted and crossed the room in a few strides, brushing the mob of ghosts away as they tried to crowd around her for attention. “Here. It’ll get done faster with two,” she said, standing at the large sink beside him. He scooted over a little to give her room, but her hip still ended up brushing against his thigh. His blush wasn’t going away. Interesting.

“We’ll fall in love again.”

“I’m uh- glad you’re up,” Ricky said as the two of them got into the chore. “I woke up a while ago and hung around for a while but… then I got hungry and when I got to the kitchen there were all these dishes so I figured… might as well, am I right? Anyway - did you sleep good?”

“Well given that a spell was put on me, I don’t think I got much of a say in how I slept,” Cassidy grumbled.

Ricky snorted. “Me neither. Though I at least wanted the sleeping potion, even if I was the idiot who took it at the wrong time. Still - do you at least feel better? It didn’t occur to me how long you must’ve been awake.”

Cassidy pressed her lips into a thin line. “Yeah… I do.” She admitted dryly, but then she waved a sudsy ladle at him and scolded, “-And if you tell Mystery that, I’ll smack you silly!”

Ricky laughed. “Don’t worry - I won’t. Can’t give him the satisfaction after pulling one over on us, now can we?”

“Definitely not,” she agreed.

As the song came to a close and the two worked in silence, Cassidy gradually realized that Ricky was tensing up again. His brows were furrowed and there was a troubled look on his face. Was he considering telling her whatever it was everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around? Or was there something else?

“So…?” Cassidy finally said, not looking at him.

Ricky jumped. “So?” He echoed, pretending not to know what she could be “so”-ing about.

“Is there anything you wanna tell me?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him starting to sweat, and the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Uh-huh,” he croaked.

Cassidy paused what she was doing, forearms resting on the edge of the sink, and looked at him. Waiting.

Ricky looked petrified.

Probably on account of the fact that he was petrified.

He had been thinking about this, dreading this, since he’d hung up the phone with Lewis. But all those thoughts had done was draw a new weariness over him. So heavy on his shoulders it had been tempting to lie back down, close his eyes, and return to that familiar, comfortable blackness where he wouldn’t need to think about it anymore. That was why he’d left the room in the first place. Watching Cassidy, still blissfully dozing, he’d found himself envious of the peace written on her face. But now that her beautiful black eyes were open and expectant, the words were shriveling on his tongue.

What sort of expression will you make when you find out what kind of man I became without you? Ricky wondered. Will you be able to look at me at all, once you know what it took to change me?

His hands were shaking when he took them out of the water and hastily dried them with a dishtowel. “I- uh…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Then finally he shook his head.

“... I can’t.”

Cassidy bit her bottom lip. She was frustrated. And honestly a little hurt. But instead of getting angry she asked, “Why not?... The others know. So you told them. Why not me?”

Ricky didn’t say it, but he knew exactly why.

Because whatever care or respect you have left for me is one of the few things I have left to lose.

“When I… told them,” Ricky began shakily, fiddling with his hands, “it was right after- well- this happened.” He gestured to himself, in Shaggy’s body. “I was emotional, and it was an emergency. But now… the words’ve just left me.”

“Then you don’t have to tell me everything yet,” Cassidy sighed, resigned. “But… can you try? Just- start wherever makes sense and tell me what you can.”

Ricky still looked absolutely terrified, but he nodded. “... okay.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then another.

Then finally-

“I said no,” Ricky said, right as Cassidy was starting to worry he wasn’t going to say anything at all. “Professor Pericles was spiraling. I’d gone along with… things I’m not proud of. But after a certain point… what we were doing didn’t make sense anymore. He was hurting people. And it was as if he was enjoying it. And that- wasn’t what I signed up for. At least I didn’t think it was. And I’m ashamed to say it, but I think it was his reckless spending that snapped me out of it. He’s spent millions. Hundreds of millions, Cassidy. Of Destroido’s money - my money. Often without permission, and never with so much as a ‘thank you.’ And ya know what? Yeah - that pissed me off. Enough that money-related questions led me to the questions I probably-definitely should have been asking all along. I knew I had to do something so- I locked him out of the system. I was losing control of the group and figured if they needed me to access every cent, then I could filter what they did with it. And uh… he- didn’t like that very much.”

Ricky still remembered the surge of fear that went through him when Pericles had launched himself off his perch. Could still feel the sting on his cheek. “-Idiot human mascot!”

“So he uh- anyway- he attacked me.”

“I’m sorry. He attacked you? How? Were you hurt?!” She demanded.

“It was just a slap!” Ricky said quickly. Only to immediately kick himself. Why is your first instinct to defend him??? “But uh… he’d- never hit me before, ya’know?” He said with a half-assed smile. “He’d- said some pretty nasty things but he’d never- so it uh… really smacked some sense into me, huh?” He laughed halfheartedly at his own joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Cassidy wasn’t laughing. Cassidy looked horrified. Ricky looked away so he wouldn’t have to see that look on her face anymore.

“It- made it clear to me that I was gonna have to do something drastic, so I went to Brad and Judy. He was out of control. Losing his mind, really. And he wasn’t even pretending to listen to me anymore. I thought if I could get all three of us to throw him out, or at least threaten to, then I could make him see reason. But uh…”

His voice cracked, and he had to swallow and pause before he could talk again. “They uh… they lied to me. They told me to my face that they were with me. But then they went straight to him. And uh… he uh…” Ricky choked back a sob, his vision blurring with tears.

‘Tell her…’ that pitiful part of him whimpered once more. ‘Come on! Just say it!’

Cassidy’s arm, still wet from the sink, slid around his. And she gently interlaced their fingers. She didn’t say anything, but she was there. Grounding him. Listening. Waiting.

“They- they drugged me and they- he put s-something…” Ricky shuddered, but he just couldn’t get those last few words out. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the thing in his back. How dirty he felt all the time knowing that there was something inside him that could turn on him at any moment. The torture. The way Pericles had laughed while Ricky screamed…

“Cassidy, I messed up. I-I messed up so bad. I’m in so much trouble… I couldn’t refuse him anything anymore, I couldn’t leave, and I had no one to go to for help. I’m- I’m a prisoner in my own home. Then this happened, and now Arthur’s in my place. But he’s- he’s not me. He’s smart, he’s brave, and he has friends. I’m fucked - but Arthur has a plan to get me un-fucked, and he’s doing it with my body.”

Ricky paused to sniff and rub the wetness from his eyes with his wrist. “The others are uh… in Crystal Cove right now. They’ve gone to one of Daphne’s sisters for help, but in order to prove what’s happening to me and show her what we’re up against… Arthur and Hot Dog- Marcie - hacked Destroido’s cameras. Anyway… they uploaded all the footage they could onto a flashdrive and uh- and right about now the kids are probably watching it.” And his eyes were wet when he turned and smiled at her. “-And when they get back… I think I need you to see it too.”

Cassidy was staring at him with an expression that was almost unreadable. “Ricky,” she said at last. “I won’t push too hard. But please- please at the very least tell me this: Ricky… Ricky, they didn’t!”

Confusion stabbed through his other emotions. What’s with that face? “Didn’t what-” Then he thought about what he’d said, and realized what she was insinuating.

“Oh! Oh shit- NO! Nonono! It was nothing like that! I swear!”

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for honesty. Then quietly, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and all but sagged against him. “Thank god…”

Oh no… “Cassidy…” When was the last time she’d- it had been years since he had last seen her this upset. He knew the sadness in her eyes. He knew the longing he either ignored, denied, or pretended not to see. And he remembered her anger. The night she’d stormed into Destroido on her bike, the night he’d been found out for being behind the Oblitheratrix, the night they’d stopped working together… he remembered her anger. He remembered the shouting, the screaming, the arm-waving and circle-walking as she raved and berated him for his foolishness. He remembered hurled insults and both of them saying things they regretted later.

And most of all, he remembered that one last tearful look over her shoulder when she left his home and never came back.

But she wasn’t angry now. She was relieved and she was scared. For him. He dared to turn so her head was on his chest, his free arm came around her shoulders, and then… he dared press his nose into her curls. “I’m sorry, Cassidy. I didn’t mean to- it really wasn’t anything like that… I’m alright… Nobody- nobody touched me.”

And yet… the connection Cassidy had made bothered him. Was it really ‘nothing like that?’ He couldn’t help but wonder. Even if nothing overtly sexual had been done to him… now that Ricky was thinking about it that way: they had drugged him. Snuck into his room while he was sleeping. And while he was defenseless and vulnerable, they… put something inside him. And after that, he could never say no again…

He remembered that dirty feeling. Then a whole new wave of revulsion washed over him as he realized fully, perhaps for the first time, just how truly violated he had been. How he was still being violated now. Professor Pericles, along with Brad and Judy, had taken over his home, his finances, his autonomy… and even if not in the way Cassidy had assumed - they’d violated his body too.

“Promise me, Ricky,” Cassidy said at last.

Her eyes were wet when she looked up at him. And they were simmering like hot coals. She didn’t know the full truth yet. But he knew that look.

Rage.

“Swear to me that they didn’t violate you. Not like that. And not in any other way. Swear it!”

He wanted to.

But he’d also promised himself that he wouldn’t lie to her anymore.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Daisy and Steve were looking at them like they had lost their minds.

To be fair though, if someone had come to them with the same story two days ago, they probably would have reacted the same way.

“So. Let me see if I have the facts right,” Daisy said, disbelieving. “There was another mystery-solving group that got chased out of Crystal Cove twenty years ago by their psychotic genius talking pet parrot and the former mayor in a monster costume. But the parrot escaped from the animal asylum after a robot dog disguised as your dog attacked the place. And has now joined forces with two of the aforementioned missing kids - who happen to be trap-boy here’s long-lost parents - and trapped a third one, Ricky Owens, who has apparently been living as this “Mr. E” guy for… who knows how long, in some kind of domestic violence-type situation-”

“It really does get more and more bonkers the more you put it into words, doesn’t it?” Lewis muttered. Vivi, Mystery, Shaggy, and Scooby all nodded in agreement.

“-So you’ve come here to ask my beautiful fiancee and I to surgically remove a small capsule of- mutated cobra larve from his lower back. Which the parrot has been using to torture and control him. Do I have that right?”

Daphne took a deep breath through her nose and said, as seriously as she could, “Daisy. You do not even have all of the facts for how absolutely bat-shit insane this situation is. But yeah - that’s the gist of it.”

“Oh my God, you have lost your mind.”

“Daisy-”

“Get out.”

“Please, sis-”

“You must think I’m either crazy or stupid to believe one word of this!” Daisy shouted! “Now get out!”

“We can prove it,” said Lewis.

Daisy faltered, her eyes widening with surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting proof. Mystery Incorporated stiffened. Right… the flashdrive.

Lewis pulled it out of a pocket inside his vest, and all eyes locked on the small purple piece of plastic and metal pinched between his fingers. “- We’re not just rescuing Mr. E. He’s also working to rescue himself. With a little help, he hacked his own system. There’s hours of security footage and multiple notes and photographs on this flashdrive, proving everything we just told you. If you take a look and still refuse, then there’s not much we can do. But you have no idea what he risked to get this out of Destroido. We owe it to him to use it… Please, Dr. Blake…”

Daisy’s eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed, tapping one manicured nail against her crossed arms. Thinking. Then finally, she looked over at her fiance. Steve shrugged his shoulders with a look that said ‘I’m kinda curious not gonna lie…’ And Daisy rolled her eyes to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We’ll have a look. But no promises.”

“Thank you,” Lewis sighed. “Now Velma, if you would please get out your computer, I’ll leave this with you and we’ll be waiting in the van. Give us a call when you’re done or if you need anything.”

“Wait- where are they going?” Steve asked.

“You seeing that footage is us using it as intended, and Ricky gave them permission to see it. Not us,” Vivi shrugged. “It’s only right to honor his wishes.”

Velma waited a few moments for the Mystery Skulls’ retreating footsteps to disappear altogether before she opened her laptop, plugged the drive into the port, and began typing away to access its files.

And then, there it was.

File after file after file, letters and numbers stark white on a black background. Hours worth of footage, just waiting to be played. “Holy- Jinkies, there it is,” Velma said shakily.

“What? Have you not even looked at it yet?” Daisy scoffed.

“We only just acquired this footage last night, and the contents are some sensitive stuff,” Daphne said.

“Like there’s so much of it. Where do we even start?” Shaggy (still in Arthur’s body) asked. Daisy, who paid little attention to her sister’s friend group, didn’t pay his appearance any mind.

“And before we do… is everyone here ready to see this? And do you want to?” Fred asked his friends. “We don’t really know what we’re about to see, and it’s like the Mystery Skulls said - it’s our choice who in our group does. If any of you walk out now, I won’t judge.”

“Like… I feel like we owe it to Arth- to Mr. E to see it, after how hard he worked to get this to us,” Shaggy gulped. “And like- Ricky said he wanted us to see it… so like yeah. I’m not going anywhere,” Shaggy said.

“Ree too,” Scooby nodded.

“In spite of everything that’s happened… I feel like I need to see this,” Velma agreed.

Daphne and Fred looked at each other and came to the same silent agreement as the others: they weren’t going anywhere.

“Right… as to where we start,” Velma said, “It looks like Ar- Mr. E and Marcie have made a small legend at the top of the file list for things that happen in each video, and each one has a title and description too.”

“What’s the first video say? Is that when… it first happened?” Daphne asked nervously.

“I don’t think so. Look at the legend,” Velma pointed out. “He’s used a small icon that looks like a red circle to indicate each time the remote was used, and there isn’t one on the first video.”

“There are icons there though,” Scooby said. “Rut do those mean?” Scooby was talking about two icons beside the video’s title - “Confrontation1” The first one he was pointing to was spiky, orange, and yellow. Like a collision. The next was a man’s head, his mouth open and lines coming out, like he was talking.

Their eyes wandered to the legend.

💥 Physical abuse. 🗣️ Verbal abuse.

Velma hit play.

The video started out with Mr. E - the real Mr. E, still in his own body, sitting in front of his monitors. Velma recognized at once where it was - on his island office in the middle of his dramatic-ass shark moat.

“Who’s that?” Daisy asked.

“Your patient,” Fred said.

“That’s Ricky Owens?” Steve balked. “Damn - he let himself go.”

“It’s called depression and it happens to people when they suddenly lose everything at age seventeen,” Daphne snapped. And the rest of her friends were glaring at him too. Steve quickly shut his mouth.

Whatever Mr. E had been up to, the glaring light in the dim room prevented any of them from making it out on the screens. But he jumped and quickly turned it off when Professor Pericles appeared onscreen with an angry shout.

“Ricky! Ricky what have you done?! I’ve been locked out of the system!”

“I know - I did it on purpose,” Mr. E snarled, rising to his feet. “You’re out of control, Professor Pericles! And I’m putting a stop to it! I’m in charge - I built Destroido from the ground up! While you were cooling your beak in prison! It’s time that I-”

WHACK.

The five Mystery solvers went rigid with shock.

They’d heard about some of the things Professor Pericles had said and done to Mr. E. Seeing it themselves was another matter entirely. And Ricky had never said anything about- he hit him. And when they heard what he said next, their jaws dropped.

“You are in charge of nothing, Ricky Owens! You have never been anything other than an idiotic human mascot! A shoulder for me to perch upon!”

The Mr. E on the screen was so startled- so genuinely frightened of the very creature he’d deluded himself into seeing as a friend, that he was silent for a long moment. Then he gingerly touched the red side of his face, wincing. “... You don’t mean that,” he said quietly. Pitifully hopeful. Still in denial. Still desperate for something that wasn’t there, and maybe never had been.

Professor Pericles sneered down at him like a bad seed in his bird feed. “You will restore my access by the end of the day.”

“And if I don’t?” Ricky growled. Stubborn. Trying to be brave when it was clear even through a screen that he was terrified.

Professor Pericles smiled at him in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. One foot came up to touch Ricky’s large nose with deceptive tenderness.

Then he dug his talons in.

Not enough to break the skin, but just enough to hurt. Ricky hissed with pain. “You’re a very valuable egg, Ricky,” Pericles sneered. “I’d hate to have to break you.”

“Pericles- stop. That- ow! That’s enough!” Ricky shouted. He shoved the parrot off of him with a great flapping of feathers as the parrot perched himself on the edge of the chair. Ricky got to his feet before he could regain the upper hand.

“Restore. My access,” Pericles demanded.

“Really? That’s all you care about?! You hit me!” Ricky barked.

For a split-second, Pericles’ expression turned positively venomous. But then it softened. “Ricky,” he said in a jarringly tender voice. “How are we to move forward when I don’t have access to our resources? The treasure is at hand. Whatever investment we make in attaining it will be returned to us beyond calculation.”

“You mean whatever investment I make,” Ricky corrected him. “How much of your own money have you spent, exactly? Or Brad and Judy’s? Why is what I worked for worth so little to you?”

“Und here I was under the impression you’d grown up,” Pericles tutted disappointedly. “I didn’t realize you were so selfish. Isn’t locking me out rather childish?”

“I- you- shut up!” Ricky shouted! And Mystery Incorporated suddenly remembered what Ricky had said, about how Pericles knew exactly what buttons to push. “Shut up and get out! I don’t want to talk to you- I don’t even want to look at you right now. You want your access back? Earn it back!”

“After everything I’ve sacrificed-”

“You’ve sacrificed?! What about my sacrifices? You’ve cost me everything, and still you find more to take.”

“Vögelchen… You told me once that I was family. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean nothing when you betrayed me?! But unlike you, yes. It means something. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you or that I trust you. Not for back then, and certainly not for that shit you just pulled. Now get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you stop acting like a child!”

“Fine! Then I’ll leave! There’s plenty of places for me to go! It’s my house!”

“Don’t you turn your back on me, Ricky Owens!”

“Watch me!”

And Ricky wasn’t kidding. Mr. E stormed over the bridge, went out a side exit, and when Professor Pericles tried to follow a steel door slammed shut within an inch of his beak.

Then Professor Pericles was alone. But the video wasn’t over yet. He flew back over to the island and perched himself on the top edge of that ring of monitors, looking up at the fish swimming in the lake above. What he said next couldn’t be heard very well, with how quietly he was speaking and the way German was mixed in. But they could make out this: “My Master… my master was right. Mein Vögelchen ist only human after all… no different from…”

He was staring off into space when the video ended.

They stared at that last frame for several long moments. Visibly unsettled.

“Well- um- that was-” There were holes in Daisy’s unbothered facade. “So like- I guess he really is Ricky Owens, huh?”

“That was definitely the same parrot…” Steve muttered. “Knew he gave me the creeps.”

“Like um… that was like…” Shaggy stuttered.

“Yeah,” Fred said. None of them even had the words.

“I didn’t see any torture though…” Daisy scoffed.

And even if the way she said it was insensitive, she was right: they hadn’t seen what they needed to just yet.

The second, third, and fourth videos, according to their captions, were of Brad and Judy conspiring with Professor Pericles against Ricky. There wasn’t any footage of Ricky going to Brad and Judy with his plan to turn on Pericles, as he’d been smart enough to avoid the cameras in case Pericles was monitoring them. But because the others weren’t nearly as familiar with the placement of the cameras as Ricky, a lot of their activities were on camera. Which added yet another layer to the tragedy: if Ricky had only checked his footage at the right time, what happened to him next could have been avoided.

Then, along with video evidence of their verbal conspiracy, there was a short clip of the Original Mystery Incorporated having dinner together, and Arthur had managed to find the exact moment Brad’s hand moved nonchalantly over Ricky’s drink. Then when it cut to the end of the meal, it showed Ricky walking with a slight stagger into the hallway where his rooms were apparently located, unaware he’d clearly been drugged. Then there was a clip with a timestamp about two hours later of Brad, Judy, and Pericles entering that same hallway with a briefcase, then leaving thirty minutes after that. But there weren’t any cameras in the rooms themselves or joining hallways, so there was no footage of them actually committing the crime.

Then there was the seventh video.

The first one with a big red circle beside its’ title:

“Confrontation2+Confession 🔴”

Velma clicked on it.

Again, it was on that central island in Mr. E’s lair. Ricky was pacing to and fro across the floor, arms crossed, while Brad and Judy stood side by side watching him as if they hadn’t committed an unforgivable sin just the night before.

“He’s late,” Ricky griped.

“You know he shows up when he means to,” Judy said. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t you think Brad?”

“Right you are, Judy. You know he’ll be looking to get his system access back, and making you wait isn’t the way to do it, Ricky.”

“Suppose you’re right…” Ricky grumbled. And he looked proud. Proud of himself for standing up to Pericles for once. Happy that he still had two old friends who had his back. Hopeful that after this, things would be better. That they’d change their approach, and no one else would have to get hurt once he took the reins back.

The new Mystery Incorporated were on the edge of their seats. Daphne was holding Fred’s hand, Shaggy and Scooby were hugging each other, and Velma was anxiously tapping her heel. Even Daisy and Steven, who weren’t involved yet, were tense. There was a sort of hopelessness to watching this footage. Like watching a train wreck: they all knew how it ended.

Then Pericles arrived.

He landed with a flutter on the edge of a desk beside Brad and Judy. And when he spoke his voice was jovial, yet his remaining green eye glinted with malevolence.

“Ricky. Brad. Judy. Do forgive my tardiness. Now Ricky, what did you need to interrupt my work to talk about?”

“This isn’t a talk, Professor Pericles. It’s an intervention. Things can’t continue as they have.”

“Oh? Und how have they been?” Pericles asked. And there it was - that hostility. Almost a ‘how-dare-you?’

“As you know, I’ve revoked your system access.”

“Ja. And you still haven’t returned it, as I told you to.”

“And there it is!” Ricky exclaimed. “You can't order me to do anything, Professor Pericles. When I agreed to this partnership, it was a part-ner-ship. That means you and I. Working together towards a common goal, each respecting the other. But you haven’t respected me or anything of mine since almost the beginning. You have spent tens of millions without my permission on plans that you have gone through with behind my back. You have poked your beak into parts of my life and business that don’t concern you and I didn’t want you in. And overall - you have gone too far. It isn’t just the expenses that bother me. The collateral damage of your last few schemes have been insane.”

“Bah! One cannot make a genius omlette-”

“‘-Without breaking a few worthless eggs.’ Yeah - that’s what you keep saying. But you know what? People aren’t eggs. By the time you actually told me about that ridiculous skull cattle plan of yours, you’d already spent a fortune making them. Then by the time we expunged what was left of them out of my company, they had eaten twenty-nine of my best scientists. And at least forty of my other staff. My people, Pericles. People with families who I was responsible for. I told you I thought it was insanity, but did you listen? Their deaths are on me because I didn’t stand up to you sooner. Not to mention all the casualties in Crystal Cove, or the homes and businesses they destroyed. All for a plan that didn’t even work! I don’t care how much of my money you’d already spent on those creatures. I should’ve had them all killed the minute I found out about them!”

“But you didn’t,” Pericles said. “You’re judging my sins, Mister E? Then you're a damn hypocrite. What if not blood is your kingdom built upon, Ricky Owens? All you are is a false king sitting on a throne of poisoned land and ruined lives!”

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?” Ricky roared. “YOU THINK I LIKE THE PERSON I’VE BECOME? When I was a boy, I had a different dream for this company. I wanted…” But then Ricky gritted his teeth and looked away. “Nice deflection,” he grumbled. “But I’m not letting you do that this time. Because I might be a piece of shit, but we’re not talking about me. We are talking about you: Out of control and out of your damn mind. But you know what? I can see it on your face. I could talk myself hoarse, but you’re not listening.”

“My ears are working just fine, Vögelchen.”

“Don’t. Call me that,” Ricky seethed. “There is a difference between hearing and listening, Pericles. And if you won’t listen to me, then you’ve not left me with much choice: Get out. And I don’t mean out of the room this time. Get out of my home, out of my company, out of my life. I can’t exactly make you leave Crystal Cove, but us? I’ve talked to Brad and Judy about it already, and we’re all in agreement: you’re done. Out.”

“Out? You think you can banish me?” Pericles smirked.

“Yes. I do. Destroido is mine. So you see Professor Pericles, it’s over! You’re not the boss here, I am! And you’re out of the group!”

The camera caught Pericles pulling a big red button out of a pocket in his scarf and there came a collective gasp of horror.

The instant Pericles pushed it, Ricky’s body froze in a position that wasn’t natural. His eyes widened with shock. Horror. Confusion. In so much pain he couldn’t even muster the breath to scream.

“Oh Ricky, Ricky,” Pericles tutted. “My loyal Brad and Judy told me of your little mutiny. So, last night while you were asleep, I put mutated cobra larvae in your spine! Every time I push this button… a little venom is released.”

And there it was. Straight out of his own beak.

They saw it all. They heard Pericles boast about what he was planning to do, and they heard him laugh. They saw Brad and Judy, smirking at one another as if they were proud of what they’d done. And they saw Ricky. They saw him fall to his knees, unable to stand. They heard the sound that found its way through the audio - somewhere between a whimper and a grunt. Then finally, as the torture continued and Pericles still didn’t let up, a damn burst and Ricky cried out!

None of them would ever forget that sound.

He was convulsing, shaking, crying, begging for it to stop, making any number of promises between sobs.

And Pericles was enjoying it.

That was when Velma slammed the laptop shut with a snap, unable to bear watching a second more.

Not a soul stopped her or asked to see the rest.

And for a long minute, they were quiet. The silence was only broken by the sounds of Daphne quietly sniffling. Fred was stunned stiff beside her. Scooby was huddled as close as he possibly could to his boy, and Shaggy felt as if he was going to be sick. As for Velma? She was thinking. Thinking so much so fast that her brain was overwhelming itself. Or perhaps not. It was more like her brain was so horrified that she couldn’t conjure any thoughts at all. Silently, she put both feet up on Daisy’s expensive leather couch and hugged her knees to her chest, still staring at the closed laptop.

They would wonder to themselves later, if they lost something when they watched that footage.

Subsequently, they would also wonder what they gained.

Either way, they got what they came for.

Daisy left the room.

She straightened her back, arms crossed, and briskly yet gracefully walked out of the room, her heels clicking against the tile. Looking almost as disturbed as his betrothed, Steven rushed out after her.

They didn’t come back for a very long time.

And there it is! Chapter 25! I know I promised to post it on Sunday and I'm technically posting it on Monday, 2am isn't thaaaat late, right? I spent all day working on revisions and that lllovely little piece of fanart that I put so much of my heart and soul into. (My one regret is that Tumblr is going to condense it so, SO much 😑) I was having a really good conversation with @angorwhosebabyisthis a while back about SDMI, specifically about Ricky, Pericles, and their relationship, and they pointed out to me that the way Pericles physically abuses Ricky using a device that he has literally inserted inside of him is quite obviously an allegory for rape. And I'm not going to lie - I had never drawn that comparison before. But once I saw it I couldn't unsee it. And I think it's extremely important that more adult fans do and that it gets talked about in the SDMI discourse. Because if more people have realized it, and I certainly hadn't, then I certainly haven't seen anyone else talking about it and I haven't read about it in any other fics. Likely because in spite of its' extremely adult, dark themes, SDMI is for all intents and purposes a "kids' show." Not to mention it's an extremely heavy and oftentimes taboo topic even among adults. But while it is the former, I don't believe it should be the latter. I rated this fic M for mature from the start and have piled on the angst this much already. So even if it isn't a comfy subject, I saw no reason why it shouldn't be here. All the same, I hope my writing didn't upset or trigger anyone and that anyone disturbed by such things heeded the warnings I put at the beginning of the chapter. SO! On to talking about the rest of the chapter! Any room for doubt the kids may have had is no longer existent. How will what they've seen affect their behavior and actions moving forward? And Cassidy finally has at least some idea of what's happened to Ricky, but how will she react to the full picture? Much less when she sees it. Daisy Blake is a character I've been looking forward to playing with because we saw so little of her in SDMI and what we did see was extremely two-dimensional. Which is one of my favorite characters to write in fanfiction because it means I can do whatever interpretation of her I want, and who's to say I'm wrong? Not to mention Daphne's complicated relationship with her family in SDMI is an interesting dynamic to explore. Same goes for Daisy's dear fiance Steve, who for all intents and purposes doesn't actually exist in the canon of SDMI. All that is canonically known of "Daisy's fiance" is that he is rich and a neurosurgeon. That is it. He's basically an OC. I literally said to myself, "What is the first basic af white boy name I can think of? Steve. And what's the first sorta fancy and less-than-common surname I can think of? Poindexter." (As in Benjamin Poindexter, aka Bullseye, the Marvel villain.) And so it was. I got sidetracked into another project (look sometimes autism makes you spend three days on cross stitch, okay?) so I unfortunately haven't gotten more than a few paragraphs into chapter 26 of One of Us. So while I do hope to have it done by next Sunday as I hope, I also can't make any promises. But rest assured I do have a plan, and I intend to have it to you as soon as I can. And people... please go onto my ao3 and leave comments on my fic there once the chapter posted. Seeing the number go up on my inbox and getting to read your words means more to me than you know. Chapter 25 should be posted to ao3 tomorrow morning, and it definitely will be tomorrow afternoon.

Last thing: a while back I said I would be starting a tag list for One of Us, and unfortunately I forgot about it when I posted Chapter 24. So sorry about that. Here's to all my readers who either asked to be tagged when new chapters are posted, or liked that post. Cuz I can't tell if liking it was asking to be added to it or not and I wouldn't want to leave anybody out. If you want to be added to this list or want to be removed from it, then feel free to DM and let me know!

@void-lioness @nikicherry1234 @angorwhosebabyisthis @lunasummers04 @orithereticent @mysteryskullsblog @the-moogle-of-your-nightmares @sfcabanasstarcgs

Chapters 1-24 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

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