#like the designing part is the best bit!!!

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?

qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.

(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).

like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.

if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.

regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.

"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."

so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.

you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.

she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"

you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.

"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."

you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.

"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.

this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.

his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.

he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.

his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.

you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.

"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.

he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.

in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.

"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.

he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.

"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.

you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.

it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.

you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.

he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.

he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.

he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.

you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.

the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."

you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."

"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.

so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.

already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.

he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.

you thanked him again.

"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"

he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.

the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.

was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?

"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.

the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."

quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.

the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.

you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.

he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.

"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.

a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.

maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.

you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.

"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.

you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.

"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.

"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.

as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.

you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.

and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.

you'd never see him again, you believed.

in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.

but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.

you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.

three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.

now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.

you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"

something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.

so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.

you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.

as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?

but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.

"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.

"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."

so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.

you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!

"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.

"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."

heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?

"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.

awesome save.

he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.

his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.

a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.

"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.

it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.

"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.

he gave a little nod.

"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?

he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.

you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.

"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.

he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"

were you?

you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.

you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.

"we're going!" his friends called.

"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.

his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.

"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"

your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"

and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.

"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.

and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.

do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!

oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?

you could have scowled.

and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.

everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.

teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.

it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.

so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.

he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.

this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?

"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.

you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.

ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!

but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.

"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"

not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.

"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.

"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.

and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?

why had you relinquished control so easily?

it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.

"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"

he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.

you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.

you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.

after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.

"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.

he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.

he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.

"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.

you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."

"only if i get one, too," he answered.

you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"

he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."

and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.

"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.

you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.

"did you keep your promise?" he asked.

of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.

suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.

there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.

"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"

did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.

"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.

"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.

you tried not to stare at them.

you gave him a last look before you left.

"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.

ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?

his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."

you didn't ask what was.

so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.

you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).

but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.

his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.

and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).

he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.

that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.

and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.

well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.

one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.

"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."

you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.

his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."

here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.

"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"

you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?

"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.

"good," he replied, content.

but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.

"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.

"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"

"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.

as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.

he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.

walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.

"oh god, i know that look," one said.

"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?

you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."

"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.

"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.

you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.

"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.

you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."

you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?

and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.

the air sparked.

"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."

his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.

"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.

you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."

something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."

dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.

things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.

you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.

but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.

i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.

but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."

he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."

you scrunched up your nose in confusion.

"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."

a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.

"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.

he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"

you sputtered.

"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.

"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."

you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.

"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."

his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"

"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"

he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."

he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.

so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.

a terrible, terrible idea, really.

especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.

"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."

"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.

so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"

his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.

you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.

he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.

you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.

"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.

he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?

but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.

"your turn, doll," he said.

you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.

you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.

you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.

"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"

you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"

he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."

the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.

it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.

"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.

he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.

"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"

he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."

you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."

his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.

sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.

but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.

you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.

it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?

don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.

when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.

it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.

but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.

as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.

after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.

closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.

you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.

it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.

your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.

before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.

but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.

and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.

you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.

so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.

but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.

so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.

what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.

you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.

don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.

he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?

and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.

but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?

time. you needed some time.

thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.

so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.

it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.

which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.

"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.

"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."

you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.

"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"

you were skeptical. "why?"

"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."

you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.

"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."

you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.

the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.

"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.

"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"

you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."

"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.

just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.

the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?

so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.

"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.

"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"

things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?

you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."

you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.

he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"

your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."

he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."

"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."

"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.

"you what?" you pressed.

he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."

you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.

you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.

"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.

so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.

so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."

so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.

here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.

someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.

the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.

you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.

"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."

you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.

"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."

you didn't have to think about it. "yes."

and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.

the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.

needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.

and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.

it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.

when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.

when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.

when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.

you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?

how slow could you bear?

every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.

so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.

he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"

you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."

he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"

you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?

babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.

then who was i praying to? you could have asked.

and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.

well, who answered? they would have responded.

what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."

you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.

"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.

"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"

you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."

you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.

and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.

you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.

you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.

he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.

kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.

like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.

you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.

he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.

"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.

he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"

you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.

"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"

"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."

he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.

"fuck, so tight," he rasped.

you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.

"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."

you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.

your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.

"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.

you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."

he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"

you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."

something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.

he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.

you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."

and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.

"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."

you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.

he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.

as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.

"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.

he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."

he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.

"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"

you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.

"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."

he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.

the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.

"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"

and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.

he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.

effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.

there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.

"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.

"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.

"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.

a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.

he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.

well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.

i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.

all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.

perhaps it was just none of their business.

fin.

[angelpuns]

Here's the official Lil Hater Donnie ref!

I opted for a pretty simple design for him, while thinking a lot about how his recovery post-krang went. He has a bit of nerve damage and is working to accommodate for that as it continues to develop. He didn't have too many issues immediately following the invasion, except for the scarring and sensitivity on his shell, but a lot of the issues have shown up later. He didn't upgrade his tech a ton because using his ninpo has become a lot more commonplace and he's even better with it than before. However, for his cane he has recreated his tech bo.

For the most part he just uses the cane function, though if he really needs to he can also whip out the tech bo. He can also use his ninpo to make a cane if he really, really needs to, but for the most part he keeps it on him. He only really uses it currently when having to walk long distances or stand for a while, but Leo (who is still the team medic atp) has projected him maybe having to use it more in the future as things progress. They are trying to prevent that, but there's only so much they can do :/

He did not have as difficult of a time accepting the cane as Leo did with his crutches/wheelchair, but that was mostly due to already having to accommodate for his shell - especially post invasion when he couldn't wear his battle shell for a while.

Speaking of his battle shell, he has used mostly the same design, but has made it a bit more flexible as well as a lot lighter and not nearly as strong/heavy as previous shells. He has also optimized comfort on the inside and made it adjustable like Leo's in order to accommodate for his sensitivity and damaged shell. His shell is completely healed, but it is still very sensitive from time to time and he does have a bit of nerve damage in some areas that has extended a bit to his legs.

Donnie currently is working with both Big Mama/The Hidden City AND New York on security measures. There's a bit of tension between the Hidden City and the surface of New York post-invasion, so he's playing for both teams in a sense. Mostly for fun, but also they pay decently :)

If you have any questions please send em! I'll answer as best as I can! I also will gladly accept feedback or suggestions, especially regarding his nerve damage and his cane, whether that's design or usage or what-have-you, because I am still doing research :)

Closeups under the cut!

[wadewnstonwilson]

housewife wade wilson headcanons || suggestion by anonymous

pairing: wade wilson (deadpool) x genderneutral!reader

author note: let me know if you guys want me to make this into an actual fic!! also would love to make more headcanons in the future featuring logan or wade so please feel free to drop me an ask!

the minute you leave for work, wade starts bombarding you with text messages. It starts out sweet—“hope you have a killer day, sugarplum!”—but quickly turns into a series of selfies, random thoughts, and (usually chaotic) updates about what he’s doing at home. it’s part of his way of staying connected, even if you’re in a boardroom meeting.

wade clings to you in the morning, draping himself over you dramatically and whining about how you’re “abandoning” him for corporate life. he might even joke about chaining himself to your briefcase just to keep you close. he knows it’s ridiculous, but it’s his way of getting a few extra minutes of affection before you leave.

knowing how particular you are about cleanliness, wade makes an effort to keep the house pristine. he wears a pink apron with “kiss the cook” emblazoned on it, vacuuming and dusting with the same enthusiasm he has for a mission. but he’s still wade, so sometimes you’ll come home to find him balancing on the couch trying to clean the ceiling fans or experimenting with “creative” cleaning solutions that smell way too strong.

even if you prefer something professional and sleek, wade insists on packing you a lunch every now and then, filled with your favorite snacks. he’ll sneak a little love note or even a crude drawing of the two of you, knowing it’ll make you smile when you find it at work.

wade is in awe of your polished, expensive style. every time you’re about to leave the house in a sleek suit or designer outfit, he goes over the top with compliments and jokes. “who needs a superhero when you’ve got this hot-shot executive look going on? can you even handle the power you’re radiating?”

when you get home, wade is the first to greet you at the door, practically tackling you into a hug. he refuses to let you go, playfully clinging to you while peppering your face with kisses. you’ve learned that, once you’re home, wade is glued to your side for the rest of the evening, practically following you around the house.

wade’s idea of romance involves surprising you with homemade dinners—even if they’re a bit chaotic. sometimes it’s a full, fancy setup, complete with candles and flowers, and other times, it’s just pizza with your favorite toppings. either way, he’s thrilled to play “perfect spouse” and waits eagerly for your reaction.

wade “borrows” your wardrobe regularly, despite the sharp contrast with his usual style. he’ll strut around the house in your blazers or designer coats, doing his best CEO impression. “look at me, babe, i’m ready to fire people and make millions!” it’s all in good fun, and he knows it makes you laugh.

wade’s clinginess reaches its peak at night. he wraps himself around you like a human octopus, insisting it’s for “optimal cuddle coverage.” if you try to roll over, he’ll grumble and pull you back, claiming you need his warmth to survive the night.

wade takes pride in being the stay-at-home husband. he jokes about being your “trophy spouse,” but he’s honestly thrilled to be there for you however he can. he wants to make your life as comfortable and happy as possible, even if he’s not the conventional choice for a high-powered CEO’s partner.

[itendtothinkalot]

daddy's girl! (enemies to lovers)

summary: beomgyu's teasing is getting out of hand, and you're constantly left wondering what you did to deserve it. does he hate you? and if he does, why don't you hate him? your major crush on him certainly doesn't help. when he's teasing you, all you can do is stare at him, wondering if he’d ever like you back.

genre: FLUFFFFFF

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 9668

warnings: none!!!

You’ve always considered Beomgyu the single biggest annoyance in your office. He’s the type who breezes into work with a cocky grin, always a little too casual, always quick with a teasing comment that seems specifically designed to get under your skin.

You’ve somehow managed to ignore him for your first few months in the company, but recently over the year, he’s been… everywhere. Offering to help with projects he has no reason to be near, popping into your workspace with coffee, even catching your eye during meetings. 

And the worst part? Lately, instead of just being annoyed, you’ve started noticing things: the way his laughter lights up the room, or how he remembers your favorite coffee order, including yours. It’s maddening, and the more you try to brush it off, the harder it is to ignore that twist in your stomach whenever he’s around.

And...you hated every bit of it, you think. Every time he’d tease you—calling you “princess” when you were stressed, smirking when he made you flustered—it was like he was actively trying to get a rise out of you. And it worked. Every. Single. Time. 

“Boo.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it made you jump so hard that your coffee slipped right out of your hand, splattering across your dress in a warm, sticky mess. You whipped around, finding Beomgyu standing there, barely holding back a laugh as he took in the damage he’d caused. 

“Beomgyu,” you gritted out, grabbing a paper towel in a futile attempt to dab at the stain. “Do you enjoy terrorizing your coworkers, or am I just special?”

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you with an amused tilt of his head. “I don’t know, maybe I just have a soft spot for you.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of his gaze lingering on you as you tried to clean up. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, hoping he couldn’t see the faint pink on your cheeks.

He shrugged, a slow, lazy smile creeping onto his face. “You know you’d miss me if I didn’t keep things interesting.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you shot him your best death glare, then turned sharply on your heel, whipping your ponytail right in his face. A small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you heard him stifle a surprised cough behind you.

“Mm, raspberry,” he said suddenly, taking an exaggerated whiff. “Nice shampoo choice.”

You spun back around, crossing your arms and giving him a look that could curdle milk. “Dude!” you snapped, appalled—and maybe a little flustered. “People are staring.” You shot a glance at a few of your coworkers, who were desperately stifling their laughter.

Everyone in the office was all too familiar with the occasional “spat” between you and Beomgyu. For some reason, the two of you bickering like an old married couple had become prime entertainment around here.

He laughed, completely unbothered. “They’re just enjoying the show.” His grin didn’t waver as he looked at your coffee-stained dress with obvious amusement.

“I’m not in the mood for this,” you muttered, pushing him aside as you made a swift exit out of the pantry. “Not after you’ve essentially soaked me from head to toe with coffee.”

“Okay, okay.” He jogged up beside you, catching your arm just as you were about to storm off. Your eyes dropped to his hand on your arm, a spark of warmth rushing up to your cheeks. You’d blame it on surprise, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart picked up speed at the contact.

Beomgyu seemed to notice, too, because he let go almost immediately, a flicker of something in his expression—guilt? Amusement? You couldn’t quite tell. He recovered quickly, though, shooting you an apologetic smile that, annoyingly, looked almost… genuine.

“C’mon,” he said, voice softer than before. “I have an extra shirt at my desk. It’s clean, I promise.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed, even though you were already considering it. “And why exactly would I want to wear your shirt?”

He raised an eyebrow, smirk slipping back into place. “Because…you either wear my shirt or walk around smelling like a coffee spill all day.” His eyes glinted with a challenge.

Your glare returned, but this time, you hesitated, the discomfort of your soaked clothes settling in. With a huff, you crossed your arms. “Fine,” you relented, narrowing your eyes. 

A few minutes later, you were standing in the bathroom, staring at the shirt Beomgyu had handed you. You sighed, the absurdity of the situation slowly sinking in. There was no way you were going to wear this. You could practically feel your dignity slipping away with every second you stood there.

“Doing good in there?” Beomgyu’s voice floated in from the other side of the door, his tone teasing.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you called out, your voice dripping with disbelief. “I am not wearing this.”

From the other side, you could hear his laughter, muffled but still unmistakably filled with overconfidence. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

With a sigh, you stepped out of the bathroom, already bracing yourself for the inevitable ridicule. The moment you emerged, you looked up to see Beomgyu standing there, absolutely dying of laughter. His eyes formed perfect crescents, his whole face lit up in a way that made your heart beat faster than it did before.

It was a bright, obnoxious shade of pink, with Beomgyu’s face cartoonishly plastered on the front, a goofy grin matching the bold words scrawled across it: “Daddy’s Girl.”

Beomgyu was clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely stand. "Oh my god," he gasped between breaths. "You look—" He paused, wiping tears from his eyes. "You look adorable."

You stood there, face flushed with embarrassment, glaring at him. “Why do you even have this damn shirt?”

His laughter slowly died down, but that infuriating grin of his remained. “It was a gift from Soobin,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just never expected to see it on you. However, I do have to say…” He trailed off, his grin widening as he stepped a little closer.

“What?” You didn’t want to ask, but it was already too late.

“Well, you pull it off better than I expected. Almost like you actually are Daddy’s Girl.” His voice dropped a little as he teased the last part, his tone playful and teasing. He inched closer to you, his presence suddenly a little too close for comfort.

“Y-you’re... an asshole,” you stammered, pushing him in his chest with more force than necessary.

You walked away, but you could still hear his laughter echoing behind you, completely unbothered that he had essentially broken down all your walls.

Your cheeks were burning, but as much as you wanted to keep the little pride you had left, you couldn’t help but suppress a grin that tugged at the corners of your lips. Beomgyu might be the last person you'd ever want to give the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, but there you were, cheeks red, heart racing, and trying to hide the smile that was slowly creeping across your face.

You could hear him still chuckling in the distance, and, despite your best efforts, a part of you almost hated how contagious his laughter was.

–

The whole office seemed to be buzzing with energy as everyone gathered for the afternoon meeting. You tried to act normal, to slip into the routine of things, but the moment you walked into the conference room, you felt it—the eyes. The teasing smiles. The laughter that seemed to linger just behind every glance directed your way.

You walked to your usual spot, only to have Soobin glance over at you with a mischievous grin. "So," he started, his tone light but laced with something that made you instantly uneasy, "How does it feel to be Daddy’s Girl?" His words were casual, but there was no mistaking the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Your face immediately flushed, and you could already feel the heat creeping up your neck. "What? No! That's not—" You stammered, but your words faltered, and before you could regain your composure, Yeonjun jumped in.

“Oh my God,” he teased, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Didn’t expect the whole ‘Daddy’s Girl’ look to work for you, but Beomgyu definitely has good taste. You make that shirt look way better than he does.”

“Seriously? He spilled coffee–” You attempted to explain, but quickly gave up, realizing no one was really listening, too busy giggling. “Beomgyu, aren’t you going to explain why I have to wear this?”

“Because you’re daddy’s girl?” He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment way too much

The entire table broke into laughter, with some of the interns joining in, adding their own playful remarks about how you and Beomgyu seemed to be “matching in more ways than one” and how “that shirt definitely tells a story.”

Trying to maintain some dignity, you crossed your arms and glared at Beomgyu, who had his usual half-smirk on his lips, though his eyes held a playful spark. “You really had to do this, didn’t you?” you muttered, barely able to mask the irritation creeping into your voice.

Beomgyu’s grin widened. "I didn’t know you’d look so cute in it," he teased, completely unbothered. "Guess I should have made you wear it sooner."

“Seriously, Beomgyu?” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

—

The next day at work, you walked into the office with a scowl, still trying to shake off the embarrassing memory from yesterday. You had barely managed to avoid Beomgyu for most of the morning, but as you rounded the corner to your desk, you found him standing there—leaning casually against your cubicle wall, as if he’d been waiting for you.

He looked up with that all-too-familiar grin, the same one that had made your cheeks flush the day before. "Well, well, if it isn’t Daddy’s Girl," he teased, his voice dripping with that playful tone you couldn't escape.

You groaned inwardly, trying to hide the heat rushing to your face. "You’re really not going to let that go, are you?"

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly, still smiling like he was having the time of his life. "I mean, it’s a pretty good look on you," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You might want to consider keeping it as your new work uniform. Though, of course, you still look good in this little office siren look you’re going for.” He looked you up and down, making you feel suddenly self-conscious.

You couldn’t help but push his face away, trying to avoid his gaze, and quickly looked away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. "You're impossible," you muttered under your breath, focusing on anything but him.

Beomgyu paused, his eyes back on you, "You look good," he said, this time a little more serious, like he meant what he was saying.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. For a moment, the usual playful mischief was gone, and it was just him, staring at you with an intensity you hadn’t expected. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond, the tension in the air suddenly making you feel even more awkward.

"And you’re still annoying," you snapped, trying to regain control of the conversation, though your voice betrayed a hint of something softer beneath the words. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze for too long.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry if I took things a little too far yesterday,” he apologized.

You examined his face for any sign of mischief, but soon realized he was being sincere. You nodded, walking away.

—--

A few hours of working in silence passed, everyone was in their own little cubicle typing away with whatever they had to. 

Just as you were getting into the groove of things, you heard footsteps approaching. Soobin’s voice broke through the quiet office. "Hey," he greeted, leaning on your desk with a smile. "Where’s your Daddy?" He raised an eyebrow playfully, clearly teasing about Beomgyu.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. "My what?" you repeated, confused for a moment before you realized what he meant. "Oh, please, don’t encourage him," you groaned, rubbing your temples.

Soobin chuckled. "I mean, you are Daddy’s girl, aren’t you?" He laughed again, clearly enjoying your discomfort, making you glare at his way. "Anyway, wanna grab lunch? We haven’t done that in a while.”

“As long as you stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes.

Soobin raised his hands defensively, smirking. “Alright, alright. Fine.”

“I just have like a couple more e-mails to sort out.”

“Got it. I’ll wait for you outside.”

You went back to typing, trying to wrap up your task quickly so Soobin wouldn’t have to wait too long. You were back to focusing, but just as you were picking up the pace, you felt hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Beomgyu,” you muttered without looking up from your screen.

Beomgyu’s voice came in soft and teasing. “How’d you know it was me?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his hands away. “You’re the only one who bothers me when I’m trying to do work.”

He chuckled, sliding into the chair next to your desk. “Guess you just know me so well, huh?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” you said, shaking your head as you finished up a few last details.

There was a minute of silence before you finally did look up at him. Beomgyu hated to admit how cute you looked when you looked up at him—your eyes meeting him with that slight furrow in your brow, your hair falling perfectly around your face. It took everything in him not to smile, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk.

“So what do you want?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished up a few last details.

“Lunch with daddy?” he replied with a casual grin, though his eyes held a glint of something that made your stomach flutter.

“Oh, I’ve already made plans with Soobin, dad” you said, not thinking much of it as you slipped your phone into your bag.

“Soobin?” Beomgyu’s voice hardened ever so slightly, but you didn’t catch the shift at first. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing just a touch.

You shrugged, focusing on gathering your things. “Yeah, just grabbing lunch. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Beomgyu’s smirk faltered for a second, his usual confidence slipping just enough for you to notice. But before you could react, he leaned back, his demeanor slipping into something more casual, though there was still that slight edge to his words. “Right. Of course. Soobin.”

You looked at him, slightly confused by his changed demeanor. “Okay?” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows.

Beomgyu didn’t immediately respond. He just leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he watched you. There was a tension in the air now, something unspoken, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. His eyes, which were usually so playful, were now unreadable, like he was deep in thought.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his tone back to its usual teasing edge, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Enjoy your lunch, I guess.”

—-

During lunch, your mind replayed the previous scene with Beomgyu one too many times. Why was he so pissy after you mentioned going to lunch with Soobin? Weren’t they good friends? Why was he being so dramatic? Crazy ass, you thought to yourself.

“Are you even listening?” Soobin’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You snapped out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mumbled, offering him an apologetic smile.

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been acting weird since we left for lunch. Did you even hear my harrowing story about how Beomgyu’s been acting up at home?”

Right, they’re roommates, you remembered, a pang of curiosity hitting you. “Wait, what did he do now?”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t believe it—he’s been sulking around the apartment lately, for reasons he won’t even explain. Just moody and snippy about everything.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m starting to think he’s hiding something.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Beomgyu’s strange mood earlier was connected. Trying to play it cool, you asked, “Does he, like…do that often?”

“Nope, which is why it’s weird. And this all seemed to start around…” Soobin paused, giving you a suspicious look, “…around the time you two started bickering at work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t blame this on me.”

Soobin laughed, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I’m not saying anything,” he teased, though his smirk suggested otherwise. “Actually… there is one thing that might explain it.”

“What is it?” you asked, curiosity and a tinge of dread mixing in your voice.

“Well,” Soobin began, leaning in a little, “he was on the phone with one of our friends the other night, talking about some girl he’s into.”

Your heart did a little flip. A girl he’s into? Was it you?

“Yeah, someone from his yoga class,” Soobin added, watching you carefully.

Oh. Yoga class. You didn’t go to yoga. You felt a mix of relief and… something else you didn’t want to admit to yourself.

“Oh,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, though your disappointment was evident. “That’s… nice.”

Soobin tilted his head, amused. “You sound thrilled.”

“I am thrilled,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Glad he’s happy. Maybe then he’ll stop fucking with me.”

Soobin leaned back, watching your expression with that same knowing look. "Yeah, apparently she's, like, really flexible," he said, barely holding back a grin.

You forced a casual nod, hoping your face didn’t betray you. "Good for him, then."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“What?” You scoffed, trying to brush off the question, but your voice came out a bit too defensive. “Why would I be jealous?”

Soobin chuckled, leaning forward. "I mean, you guys do spend half your time arguing, and the other half looking at each other like... well, like something is going on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We’re just… coworkers. Besides, he’s obviously into some yoga girl I’ve never even met. Who’s apparently really flexible.”

"Uh-huh," Soobin said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t buying it. "Well, for what it’s worth," he added, "I don’t think he actually likes yoga that much."

“Oh, sure. I don’t actually care,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief.

“Really,” you said, the words coming out a little too firmly—as if you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Soobin’s gaze dropped to your plate, and he chuckled softly. “Then why’ve you mashed your rice into porridge?”

You looked down, realizing your grip on the spoon was practically turning your knuckles white.

Your face heated with embarrassment, and you shot Soobin a glare. “You seem to be really enjoying this, Soobin. What happened to ‘I missed you, let’s catch up’? You’re practically using our only hour to tease me.”

Soobin laughed, leaning back in his chair with an innocent shrug. “Hey, I am catching up. I just happen to find your love life… fascinating.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to brush it off. “It’s not my love life.”

“Right. Just your very intense work rivalry,” he said, grinning. “But fine, I’ll ease up. For now.”

—

You sighed, glancing at the clock. Just one more hour, and you’d be free. It was Friday, and the idea of slipping into bed and sleeping through the night was the only thing keeping you going. Unlike your coworkers, who were always up for late-night drinks, you had a steadfast love for sleep.

Well, at least until…

“You coming tonight?”

Startled, you looked up to see Beomgyu leaning against your cubicle. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day, and somehow, he looked even better when he was a little worn out. You felt a pang of frustration at yourself for even noticing.

“Where?”

“The team’s going out for drinks,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes fixed on you.

You hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t know. I was planning on just heading home,” you replied, trying to ignore the way he made it hard to focus on anything but him.

He tilted his head, a playful smile forming. “Come on, you’re always skipping out on these things. One night won’t hurt.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. “Right, because I’m sure you’re really hoping I’ll be there.”

“I was,” he paused, then corrected himself, “I am.” He looked at you seriously, as if making sure you knew he wasn’t joking or lying.

“I—I…” You stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Please?” He added, his tone softening, almost like a plea.

“Fine.”

—

The bar was buzzing with the chatter and laughter of your coworkers. The group had claimed about four or five tables, but you’d positioned yourself at the bar, seated on a stool. You weren’t sure why you even agreed to come—maybe it was Beomgyu’s pleading, or maybe the way his eyes softened when he asked you. Damn it, he could be so cute without even trying.

You stirred your drink, watching it swirl as your mind wandered. Every so often, you glanced over to where Beomgyu was standing, sandwiched between two tables. He was in his element, effortlessly drawing people in with that easy, curse that confident charm of his. His laughter filled the air as he joked with your colleagues, their faces lighting up at whatever he’d just said.

He had a way of making even the most mundane conversation feel like the most interesting thing in the room. His smile, his gestures, the way his eyes sparkled when he said something funny—it was like he could command the room without even trying. It was no wonder people were drawn to him, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

You watched as he shifted from one group to the next, always moving with such ease, always the center of attention. His effortless charm left a weird knot in your stomach, but also a strange flutter, something you didn’t quite know how to process.

Damn it, you thought again, taking another sip of your drink. You were making yourself dizzy just watching him.

“You’re going to catch flies with the way you’re staring at Beomgyu,” Soobin teased, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous grin. He placed a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up.

You sighed, trying to brush off the comment, swatting his hand away. “Soobin,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “If you’re just here to mock me about my stupid crush on Beomgyu—”

“Oh, so we’re admitting it’s a crush now?” Soobin interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“What? No! I—I… it slipped out,” you stuttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks as you tried to recover.

Soobin leaned in, his grin widening as he pressed, “So you are admitting it—”

“I’m not admitting anything!” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively and giving him an exaggerated glare.

Soobin chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that," he said, giving you a wink before turning his attention back to the table, though his smile lingered as if he knew something you didn't.

You huffed, trying to push the thoughts of Beomgyu out of your mind. The alcohol wasn't helping; if anything, it was just making things feel more awkward. You shifted in your seat, glancing back toward Beomgyu. He was laughing with your coworkers, his hands animated as he told some story, effortlessly commanding their attention. It was almost maddening how easy he made it look, his charm radiating off him like it was second nature.

"Are you sure you don’t have a thing for him?" Soobin’s voice brought you back to reality, and you looked at him, annoyed.

“I already told you, I don’t—" You stopped, realizing how defensive you sounded, how your heart was racing at the mere mention of Beomgyu’s name. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated at yourself.

"So, what's going on then?" Soobin asked, his tone suddenly softer, less teasing. "You can’t keep pretending you don’t care."

You looked away, avoiding his gaze as you focused on the edge of your glass. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

For a moment, Soobin didn’t say anything, just watched you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. Finally, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now, but don’t pretend like it doesn’t matter."

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“Okay, what if I do…” you whispered, barely audible, eyes darting around nervously.

Soobin leaned in closer, eyebrows raised. “Come again?”

You sighed, feeling your face burn as you tried to keep your voice low, as if somehow that would protect you. “What if I do… have a tiny little bit… the tiniest bit… of a crush on him…” you whispered even softer, almost too quietly to hear.

Soobin leaned in further, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he mimicked your whisper. “I can’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing your embarrassment. “I said,” you shouted, louder than you intended, and immediately felt the weight of your coworkers' stares on you. You quickly smiled awkwardly at them before turning back to Soobin. “I said... what if I did have a tiny crush on him?”

Soobin burst into laughter, loud enough that it felt like the whole bar could hear it. His laughter, bright and unapologetic, drew even more stares from the surrounding tables. You felt your face flush even more.

“You know,” he said, catching his breath, “it’s about time you admitted it. You’ve been looking at him like that all night.”

“I have not!” you protested, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Right, because I didn’t just see you staring at him while he was telling that story about his yoga class.” Soobin grinned knowingly.

You groaned, sinking lower into your seat. “Can we drop it now?”

Soobin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, it’s obvious to everyone here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, finally calming down. “Trust me, you’ve got the ‘I’m-trying-to-hide-a-crush’ look written all over you.”

You leaned back in your chair, exhaling in defeat. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Soobin said with a grin. “If you’re embarrassed, then that means you care. And that’s actually kind of cute.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Soobin patted you on the back. “No problem, now go get your man.”

You snorted. “I’m not ‘getting my man’ anywhere besides isn’t he into this yoga girl you keep mentioning about?”

“First of all,” Soobin sighed. “I mentioned her once. Second, you're really gonna use her as an excuse now? I was just kidding. There wasn’t any “yoga girl”, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You lied?”

“For a good cause!” Soobin said, defensively.

“Look, I don’t even care. I mean... it’s not like he’s even looking my way,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to Soobin. “In fact, he hasn’t even talked to me all night.”

Soobin gave you a knowing look, the kind he always gave when he knew you were being a little dramatic. “You’re really gonna do this right now?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “You’re letting one night ruin your mood?”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I mean, it's fine, really. I didn’t come here to be his entertainment plus free drinks!”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “It’s not about that, though, is it? You didn’t come here for him to entertain you, you came because you wanted to see him.”

“I did not come here…to see him.” You attempted to defend yourself. “I could be here to see you. You’re a pal.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Soobin rolled his eyes. 

You shot him a glare but it only made him laugh. He could always tell when you were hiding something, and right now, he was enjoying it a little too much.

“Fine, maybe I did want to see him,” you finally admitted, your voice softer than you wanted it to be. “But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just—he told me to come, which I did but now he’s been avoiding me all night and talking to everyone but me.”

“Have you tried initiating the conversation first?” Soobin said. 

You stared at Soobin, momentarily taken aback by his insight. “I just… I’m not sure what to say anymore." 

"Say hi or something, in fact," Soobin said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. "You talk to him tonight, and... yeah, that’s it. Just talk to him. No ands ifs or buts."

"W-what? No! I can’t... I’m not ready! I’ve only had one shot of vodka. I’m not ready for this level of commitment—"

Soobin sighed in frustration. "Damn, you’re stronger than you look." He grunted, struggling to pull you up as you continued to thrash in your seat.

You dug your heels into the ground, still trying to resist as Soobin tugged at your arm. "No, seriously, Soobin! I'm not ready for this. What if I screw it up?" You felt the panic rising in your chest, your pulse quickening. The idea of talking to Beomgyu, of finally doing something about it, felt too overwhelming.

“And what’s going on over here?”

The two of you stopped your struggle, realizing it looked as though you were hugging, and quickly turned around, both of you frozen like deer caught in headlights.

“Beomgyu,” the two of you muttered in unison.

“You’re making quite the scene,” Beomgyu said. His tone was hard to place, but you would guess he was either slightly annoyed or, more likely, not at all amused.

“Sorry.” You glanced around, realizing no one was really paying attention to the two of you, which left you a bit confused, but you decided to ignore it.

“Soobin, Taehyun’s looking for you.” He pointed over to the table of interns.

“Taehyun’s here? Doesn’t he have…” Soobin gulped. “Okay. I’ll go find him.”

Soobin gave you one last glance, his smirk still lingering as he followed Beomgyu's direction. “Don’t think I forgot about this,” he teased, then strolled off toward the interns.

You let out a small breath of relief, now alone with Beomgyu. He was still standing there, his expression unreadable, though you could have sworn you saw something in his eyes when Soobin had left.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Thanks for... saving me from Soobin.”

Beomgyu chuckled, his gaze softening slightly. “Not sure you’re saved when a bigger devil is here.” He smirked.

“Right,” You chuckled before turning your attention back to your drink.

"Care for a conversation?"

"Now?" You hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic.

Beomgyu looked at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes before replacing it with his usual smirk. "What’s wrong with a little conversation?"

"I just... don’t you have a whole parade to lead? Aren’t people waiting for the life of the party?"

“Well, the life of the party needs a break, and I was kind of looking for my own relief.” He glanced over at you.

“And?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Found her.” He locked eyes with you, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

You shifted awkwardly, trying to gauge his intent, but he kept his eyes on you, unfazed.

“So, this is where you take your breaks?” you asked.

Beomgyu’s smirk deepened. “Only when the company is worth it.”

Your breath caught slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. You didn’t know how to respond right away, so you turned your attention back to your drink. The silence stretched on, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two.

“Oh, right!” You pulled out a small paper bag from your work bag. “Here.” You handed him the washed t-shirt he had lent you.

“You can keep it,” he said casually.

“And why would I want to keep a shirt with your face on it?” You rolled your eyes, holding the t-shirt up with mock disdain. 

Beomgyu chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Y’know…I always thought you were pretty, but I think wearing my face has made you ten times prettier than you already were.”

He leaned back, watching you closely, his smile softening into something more sincere. “I’m serious though. You look good in it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly brushed it off, trying to maintain your playful composure. “Sure. But I think I’ll pass on wearing it as a permanent look.”

You glanced at your watch, it was still early. If you were home you’d probably be binging a drama. You shook your head. It was time to say goodnight. You didn’t feel like overstaying your welcome. 

“I’m gonna take off,” you muttered.

“What? So soon? It’s only 10,” Beomgyu said, sounding surprised.

You shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m wasting my Friday night being surrounded by drunk colleagues.

“Okay, then at least let me send you home,” he said, his tone softening.

“It’s totally fine! I can take the bus!”

“The bus? We can share a cab!” Beomgyu insisted.

“I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“And I won’t be until you let me take you home safely!” Beomgyu said, pouting ever so slightly, his lips curling downward. You stopped yourself from smiling at the sight of his pout.

“It’s really fine! If it makes you feel better, I’ll get Soobin to drive me back. I mean, he drove me here,” you replied, trying to brush off his concern with a casual shrug.

Beomgyu’s demeanor shifted immediately. His face tightened, and you noticed a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "Again with Soobin," he muttered, his voice a little sharper than before.

You glanced over at Beomgyu, seeing the almost imperceptible shift in his expression. He looked... frustrated, almost as if your mention of Soobin was a trigger. You weren’t sure why, but the change in him caught your attention. 

“Yeah, I mean, he drove–”

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” Beomgyu sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“Do you enjoy… torturing me?” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated by your sheer density.

“Are you drunk?”

He shook his head.

He pulled you aside, guiding you into a quiet corner of the bar. Now, there was no sign of your colleagues—just the two of you, standing by a plant. The sudden isolation made the air feel heavy.

“You’re torturing me,” he muttered, his voice low. “You actually hate me.”

You blinked in surprise, unsure if you had heard him right. 

“Hate you?” You frowned, trying to make sense of what he was implying. “Beomgyu, I don’t hate you.”

“You avoid me,” he sighed, frustration laced in his voice. “You’re always making jokes with everyone around you. Yeonjun, Soobin—dear God, you even make jokes with the new interns, Taehyun and Kai.”

You stood there frozen, caught off guard by the intensity of his rant.

“You laugh with everyone, you smile, you bat your eyelashes at Soobin, you touch Soobin’s arms, you go on one-on-one lunch dates with Soobin… You like Soobin.” His words came out in a rush, and each sentence hit harder than the last. “And you don’t feel a single thing for me.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his accusation, your stomach dropping. 

“I–”

“Why won’t you like me back?” Beomgyu repeated, his voice softer now, but still laced with an underlying pain. His eyes searched yours, as if looking for an answer that you weren’t sure how to give.

And it was… three seconds of silence before Beomgyu hurled onto your shoes.

You stared in disbelief, mouth agape, as the reality of what had just happened set in. The mixture of complete shock and disgust made you freeze for a moment, unable to process what had just unfolded.

“No liquor, my ass!” You screamed, stepping back in horror as you looked down at your shoes, now a disgusting shade of… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

Beomgyu collapsed onto the floor, his body crumpling like a ragdoll.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, hands thrown up in the air, unsure of what to do. You were stuck between wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all and wanting to strangle him for ruining your night—and your shoes.

Beomgyu’s head lolled to the side, eyes barely open as he slurred, “I... I didn’t mean for it to... to go like this. I just… I thought you’d—” He cut himself off with another groan, clearly too far gone to finish his sentence.

Your mind raced, torn between sympathy for his state and pure annoyance. You didn’t sign up for this. 

—

Soobin had driven the two of you back to your place. Beomgyu, half-conscious and heavily leaning against your shoulder, made no effort to support himself as you navigated him out of the car. 

You reached your front door and stopped, fumbling with the keys for a moment before Soobin broke the silence with a sigh. “You sure you don’t want him to just go home with me?” His voice was soft, but you could hear the concern in it, even if he tried to mask it with a teasing tone.

You shot him a tired glance as you finally unlocked the door. “Isn’t your mom visiting right now? You sure you want her to know this is the kind of roommate you have?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you nudged the door open with your foot, glancing at Beomgyu, who was mumbling nonsense under his breath.

“Yeah?” Soobin shrugged, clearly not thinking it through. “But, you know, I could always—”

“You sure you want your mom to see all this?” you interrupted, gesturing at the disaster that was Beomgyu, who looked like he might pass out any second.

Soobin blinked, his face faltering slightly as the reality of the situation hit him. “...You’re probably right,” he said with a chuckle that barely covered his embarrassment.

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping despite everything. “Thanks for the ride,” you said, offering a strained smile before you turned your attention back to Beomgyu. “Alright, let’s get you inside.”

Beomgyu stumbled and flopped onto the couch as soon as you let him go, groaning dramatically, his head lolling to the side. His disheveled hair and the faint smell of alcohol coming off him was enough to make you feel a little queasy, but you refused to let him see how uncomfortable you were. Instead, you turned to Soobin, who lingered by the door, looking unsure about whether to stay or leave.

“Is there anything I can do?” Soobin asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You looked at Beomgyu again and sighed. “Just help me change him.” You half-smiled, trying to reassure Soobin despite feeling like a mess yourself. 

Soobin chuckled awkwardly. “You should probably get him some water or something.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, already moving toward the kitchen, your mind racing as you debated what to do next. You glanced back at Beomgyu, still sprawled out on the couch, looking like he had no care in the world. He was out of it, sure, but the way he had acted earlier still lingered in your thoughts, leaving a pit in your stomach.

Soobin finally left, his footsteps fading as the door clicked shut behind him. You were alone now with a drunk, insufferable Beomgyu, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever this night was about to throw at you next.

—

You were thankful Soobin stayed long enough to help change Beomgyu out of his puke-soaked clothes. It was an awkward scene, but you couldn’t exactly leave Beomgyu in his state. Soobin had managed to get him into a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt before he left, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

As you walked back into the living room, you found Beomgyu still sprawled on the couch, his head resting awkwardly on the armrest. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep but uneven. Despite the mess he’d made, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.

You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and gently placed it on the coffee table in front of him, hoping he’d wake up enough to drink it.

It’d been a few hours since the incident happened. You had just been sitting on your armchair, waiting for Beomgyu to wake up.

His eyes fluttered open a moment later, his vision blurry as he blinked a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings. When he saw you standing there, a faint, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re still here…” he mumbled..

“Of course,” you said, sitting down on the edge of the couch, keeping a safe distance. “You’re kinda at my house.”

Beomgyu let out a groan, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this…”

You sighed, watching him closely as he sat up, trying to get his bearings. “You didn’t drag me into anything, I just so happened to be standing right in front of you, waiting for my prince charming to puke on me.” You replied, trying to hide the slight irritation in your voice, but the frustration from the whole night was starting to seep through.

Beomgyu winced at your words, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. “Yeah... that wasn’t my best moment.”

“No kidding.” You leaned back, folding your arms across your chest. “I’ve never seen you this... well, out of it. What even happened tonight?”

“I don’t know. I think I just... lost it. All the stuff with you and Soobin, it’s been bugging me more than I want to admit. And, well, I guess it all came crashing down at the wrong time.”

“So… you remember what you said in the bar just now?” You asked, the tension in your voice barely masked by the casual question.

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he was trying to piece everything together. “I’m puke and black-out drunk. Not the kind to forget about the stupid shit I do when I’m drunk... kind of drunk.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to process what he was saying. "So you… were—are—jealous of Soobin?"

Beomgyu nodded slowly, his gaze avoiding yours as he seemed to wrestle with his own feelings. “Kind of. I guess. I don’t really know. But listen, he’s a great guy and clearly in better shape than me, so I… genuinely think the two of you would be great together.”

You blinked at him, trying to process the unexpected confession. "I don’t know… I kind of had my eyes on someone else, actually."

“It’s Yeonjun, isn’t it? It’s because he’s up there with that whole manager position and his weird party tricks… damn it, I should’ve picked up rollerblading when I had the chance.”

“No—not Yeonjun. He’s a little too intense for me,” you said, the memory of Yeonjun yelling at you for accidentally dropping a pack of Skittles down the garbage disposal flashing through your mind.

“Then who is it? Not Soobin, not Yeonjun—I’m gonna be so for real with you right now, we’re kind of your only options if you were into like hot people–”

“You’re spiraling.”

“I just… I’m curious to know who this guy is! Who’s this less attractive person I’m losing out to, y’know?”

“Well, he’s kinda cute to me.” 

Beomgyu sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but also trying to mask it with a weak smile. “Okay, fine. I get it. You like someone else, and that’s cool. But you’re really killing me here with the suspense. Actually, you know what…maybe I don’t wanna know.” He sat up from the couch, shaking his head.

You were leaning against the wall opposite him, your arms crossed loosely over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Your eyes flicked to Beomgyu, watching him as he ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly wrestling with his own thoughts.

The way he shifted uncomfortably on the couch made you feel almost guilty for not speaking sooner, but you weren’t going to lie, you kind of enjoyed this little mental torture he was going through. 

Served him right for teasing you so much.

The truth was, you had been trying to avoid it, trying not to make things complicated especially with someone you weren’t even sure that liked you back. 

Come on. Dropping your coffee and making you wear the ugliest t-shirt? That didn’t really seem like someone who liked you.

“Look, y’know what, I’m fine. I’ll just go home,” Beomgyu sighed, standing up from the couch. “Thanks for taking care of me. I’m really sorry about the shoes. I’ll get you a new pair. I promise.” He ruffled his hair, clearly trying to hide the awkwardness with a forced smile, but you could tell he was feeling guilty.

“Beomgyu–”

“I’m good. Look, it stings. The girl I’ve been pining for, for about a year or so, doesn’t like me back. It’s cool. I’ll get over it. Not now, but soon enough. I just hope this guy—whoever the fuck he is—treats you well… but like, I hope he’s not that hot. I don’t think that’d be good for my self-esteem. But you also deserve the best so I hope he’s at least hot-ish…? I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m being really immature right now, aren’t I? This is not a good look on me,” Beomgyu rambled, his voice wavering slightly as he shifted uneasily on his feet.

“Dude, you gotta let me talk.” You sighed, walking over to Beomgyu and gently pushing him back onto the couch. He blinked up at you, still looking a little frazzled, but his shoulders visibly relaxed when you didn’t back away.

“This guy…that I’m into–”

“Oh great. We’re still talking about this asshole.” 

“He’s really funny,” you spoke, your tone exasperated but softening.

“It’s that one tall dude from marketing, isn’t it?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not listening!” you yelled, cutting him off. Beomgyu gave you a sheepish, apologetic smile, slowly realizing that he was spiraling. You pulled his chin toward you, making sure he was looking at you. “He’s funny. He’s kind of an asshole, actually.”

“You’re into that?”

You shrugged, “And he’s really handsome.” You looked up at Beomgyu, giving him the sweetest smile, which made his heart leap.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You’re just gonna make me more hung up on you.” Beomgyu’s voice was softer now, the playful edge gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart race. 

You chuckled, “He’s also really cute. Didn’t peg him for the jealous type.”

“What?” He tilted his head, confused.

“He’s also really narcissistic. Has apparently zero alcohol tolerance,” you mumbled. “He also puked on my shoes.”

Beomgyu blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Wait, he puked in your shoes? And you’re still into him?” He let out a disbelieving laugh, though it was edged with a hint of nervousness. "And you think I'm the one who’s messed up?"

“Beomgyu, it’s you. How are you not getting it?”

“Oh.” 

Beomgyu’s gaze softened, the realization sinking in fully. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but he hesitated, unsure of how to handle the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I’ve liked you for awhile now.” You continued, “I just thought you genuinely…disliked me. Or at least just enjoyed making my day miserable.”

“Miserable? Baby, I was entertaining you,” he said, his voice low, teasing but with an undeniable sincerity underneath.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling both amused and flustered. “Entertaining me? By making me spill coffee on myself and tricking me into wearing that ugly t-shirt?”

Beomgyu chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well–” he started, clearly trying to defend himself but failing to keep his grin in check.

“How about two weeks ago when you took out the screws of my chair at work and I fell and hurt my ass?” You crossed your arms, a playful yet accusatory tone in your voice.

“To be fair, that was Soobin’s idea,” Beomgyu said quickly, as if the excuse could somehow absolve him. He looked genuinely innocent for a split second before breaking into an even wider grin. “But I did help, so I guess I’m partially guilty.”

You scoffed, unable to suppress a smile despite yourself. “Partial guilt? You’re the mastermind behind most of it.”

"You don't get it!" Beomgyu sighed dramatically. "You're just so... adorable when you're mad! Your eyebrows furrow, your eyes widen, and when you pout... it's just... God, if you could see yourself the way I see you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "Adorable? Really? You think I'm adorable when I'm mad?"

Beomgyu nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up. "Yes! You don’t get it! You’re like a firecracker. When you get all huffy and your cheeks puff up, it just... it drives me crazy." He looked almost embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's like the cutest thing ever."

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprised both of you. "Am I just your daily work stress ball or something?”

"Yes!" Beomgyu replied instantly, his voice a little too eager. He leaned in slightly, his tone softening as if revealing a secret. "I swear, if you could see yourself, you'd understand. It’s like you’re all fierce and pissed off, but still so... you. And God, it's so easy to fall for."

You smiled shyly, “You’re a little weirdo, aren’t you?” 

Beomgyu grinned, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you’d come to know all too well. "Maybe," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But I'm your weirdo. If you’ll take me."

He leaned in just a little closer, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, and for a brief moment, the air between you seemed to thicken. You felt your heart skip a beat, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but your voice came out softer than you intended. "I don't know if I’ll like that," you teased, though you couldn’t hide the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Beomgyu chuckled, his expression softening into something more sincere. "You should. I swear, I’ve got the best intentions. Even if I do mess with you a little."

Your breath caught as his words hit you in a way you hadn't expected. He wasn’t just being playful anymore—there was something real behind his eyes.

"You’re... kind of sweet when you’re serious," you murmured, unable to stop yourself from feeling a little flustered under his gaze.

Beomgyu leaned back just slightly, his smile turning a little shy, like he hadn't meant to let that much of himself show. "Yeah, well... I mean it, you know?" he said quietly, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. "You make it hard not to feel this way." 

“You’re being ridiculous.” You puffed your cheeks.

“There! There it is!” Beomgyu shouted, jumping up and down on your couch in excitement like a little kid.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, your heart skipping a beat at how effortlessly cute he was. “You’re being insane!” you said, still smiling.

“I’m not!” Beomgyu responded dramatically, flailing his arms for emphasis. “How are you not seeing how cute you are?!” His voice was nearly exasperated, like he was trying to make you understand some grand truth about yourself.

“It’s probably how I see you!” you shot back, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips.

A moment of silence filled the room, the weight of what you had just said hanging in the air.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened slightly, his expression faltering as he processed your words. “That’s how you see me?” he asked, his voice softer, almost unsure.

You nodded, your gaze shifting as you tried to put your thoughts into words. “Yeah. You’re… well, close to perfect, as far as I can see.” You shrugged slightly. "The way you put your tongue at the side of your cheek and poke it when you're feeling smug after winning an argument with me... Maybe that's why I let you win sometimes. You look... sexy when you do that."

Beomgyu froze, his eyes locking with yours, a mix of surprise and something else flickering in his gaze. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin, that mischievous glint returning. “You think I’m sexy when I do that?” he asked, scooting closer, his hands coming to rest beside your thighs on the couch.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, suddenly self-conscious as you realized what you'd just admitted. But before you could retreat, Beomgyu leaned in a little, his face lighting up with that playful yet sincere spark. “Well, now that you’ve said it... I’m definitely not letting you off the hook,” he teased, his tone warm and a little more serious than before, making your heart skip a beat.

“What else do you like about me?” he asked, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips.

You blushed, feeling your heart race. “When you… when you make everyone laugh. You’re just so effortlessly you,” you said softly, your voice warming as you smiled shyly at him.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered your name. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “You’d see the most beautiful person in the world.”

You stayed silent, your heart pounding as his words settled in. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken feelings, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "And, would the most beautiful person in the world... let me kiss her?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the tension, the way everything seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with him. He was so close, and his expression was so genuine, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

Slowly, you nodded, barely able to whisper, “Yeah... I think I would.”

His eyes lit up, and in that instant, the world around you seemed to disappear. Without wasting another second, Beomgyu gently cupped your face in his hands, leaning in until his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet at first, testing the waters, before deepening as you both relaxed into the moment.

Everything felt perfect. Well…until…

You pulled away, suddenly aware of the rules that had always been lurking in the back of your mind. “Wait. Doesn’t our company have a rule about dating?”

Beomgyu froze for a second, his lips brushing yours one last time before he pulled back, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I could quit tomorrow if it meant I could kiss you every day,” he sighed dramatically, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart race.

Before you could say anything, Beomgyu pulled you gently but insistently closer, guiding you to sit on his lap. He leaned in again, his lips on yours.

“Beomgyu, I’m serious.” You mumbled between the kisses, your voice breathless but laced with uncertainty.

He only grinned wider, his hands lightly gripping your waist, “Rule, schmule,” he muttered dismissively, pushing you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. "We’ll figure it out. Besides, isn’t Taehyun like the boss’s son or something? We could bribe him."

“What?!” You gasped, pulling away from the kiss, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that,” he muttered sheepishly, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes was unmistakable as he shrugged and pulled you back into the kiss.

“You did not just drop a big bomb like that!” You tried to protest, but your words were muffled by his lips.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Beomgyu murmured between kisses, his hands gently guiding your face to meet his again.

“But we have all night,” you teased, breathless but still managing a smirk.

He paused for a moment, his face a little too close to yours, his grin playful. “I’m listening…” he said, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, pushing him playfully away just enough to get a word in. “You’re also gross.”

Beomgyu’s expression faltered for just a second before he burst into laughter, his arms wrapping around you tighter as he pulled you back against him. “Gross? I thought you liked me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to stay mad. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, even as you found yourself leaning in again.

“Impossible to resist,” he corrected with a wink, his lips capturing yours once more, and this time, there was no pulling away.

[adobe-outdesign]

Best and Worst Jelly Neopets? If this has been asked before, Apologies!

Jelly would be a hypothetical tie-in colour to Jelly World, if Jelly World existed (which it doesn't). It's kind of one of those weird niche colours that only makes sense in the context of Neopets, with there already being a huge amount of jelly items available on the site.

As for the colour itself, the designs are pretty standardized across the board—the pets are rendered to look like jelly and given a semi-transparent look, though the "flavor" (color) of the jelly can vary. Part of me wonders if more could been done with it—like, you could have pieces of fruit in there, change up markings and round off pointy fur to look more jelly-esq., have whipped cream accents, etc.—but I do appreciate the consistency, with the colors adding just enough individuality per pet.

This color is a Lab Ray exclusive (unless you count the Rainbow Fountain, which I don't). While getting Lab-exclusive colours is always a pain, it does at least make sense here given the somewhat odd nature of the colour to begin with.

This color should've been unaffected by customization, as it wasn't very dependent on poses. However, for some reason a lot of of the converted Jelly pets have less shading and transparency effects compared to the originals for reasons I can't hope to understand. There are plenty of good-looking post-customization Jelly pets out there; it's just the ones that got converted that seemed to get the short end of the stick. Thankfully, pet styles do exist.

Favorite Species:

Chomby: A tasty green lime color, the Jelly Chomby has some nice highlights to it that give it that all-important jelly texture along with a subtle bit of transparency. While the converted is fine, the UC/styled version is extra nice—the shading, highlights, and transparency are even more pronounced, which really gives it a good sense of depth. This is also helped by the fact that pre-conversion Chombies were just kind of lumpy to begin with.

Kiko: There's nothing all that special about this Jelly pet specifically I suppose, but I really like the light orange shade used here. Once again, the shading and highlights are very well done, and the transparency gives the body a really good sense of depth in areas like the arms. There's a tiny bit of tone variation in there, not enough to make it look un-jelly like but enough to give it a little bit of contrast.

Chia: You could argue with this one that it's a missed opportunity—considering all the fruity Chia colours, it definitely feels like this could've been done as a giant jello mold or something instead of just being the usual fair. That said, the rendering here is really good—subtle gradients are used along with a bit of transparency and layering at the bottom to make this thing look very jelly-like, and I love little details like the air bubbles. Only complaint is that the tongue is way too normal-looking.

Least Favorite Species:

Quiggle: I am giving this one the coveted dung award solely because it has regular non-Jelly eyes and that disturbs me. Also, while the UC/styled version has some decent enough transparency, the converted version's shading makes it look like rock-hard candy.

[wings-of-ink]

Hi Lunan, I was wondering about the player stats if you have time. I keep getting reckless as a go to response for things despite trying to play a more shy and timid MC and it made me curious. How do you determine what choices actions constitute which stat? I understand that the game is still in development and it may not be set in stone or other aspects of the game might be more of a priority, but I was mostly interested in picking your brain, in a general sense, if that's OK. I'm sure you're very busy so there's no rush to answer this ask, or answer it at all.

Hello, Anon!

Let's see, player stats are definitely something that will get fine-tuned as we go. And, funny that you ask, I have literally been dwelling specifically on the reckless stat this weekend.

I'll just explain how I have worked this out below. I apologize that I went a little long...I genuinely enjoy chatting about this stuff, and I gotta bit...lost in the sauce here, lol. ^_^

For the MC's personality and actions/reactions and some of their speech patterns, I have 4 main stats. These are on a scale with their opposing characteristics, so 8 total. There's a 5th stat that tracks how your MC flirts.

Reserved vs Outgoing

Gentle vs Assertive

Serious vs Playful

Reckless vs Cautious

Bold Flirting vs Shy Flirting

The MC starts with scores directly in the middle for all of these (50 on a scale of 100); however, I decided not to code for much in the way of "middle ground" behavior. This saves me tons of coding and tons of agonizing about what a middle-of-the-road response would be. So, if your MC's score is above "49" they default to the characteristic listed first, but lower than that, they default to the one listed second.

The only score that is treated differently is the one for flirting. To default to bold, the score needs to be below 40, so the character must show a fairly direct preference for boldness in this area. I did this since shyness is a fairly "safe" bet for this type of characteristic.

Number 4 does not come into play very often - yet. As things heat up, some actions that the player does not get to choose will be determined by their score in this stat. Currently, there are only a few options to choose what influences this score. It is possible to barely have any score for this stat one way or another. I'm going to be increasing the influence of this and probably adding some new ways to get points for this as I do some editing.

As for how I determine if something raises or lowers a stat in general, I try to use my best judgment to determine motivation when I design the choices that influence stats. To me, being reckless or cautious could be either intentional or not. I think the first time this stat comes into play is in Chapter 1 when MC decides if they are going to try to steal the honeycakes at the beginning. Trying to snatch one gives an increase to recklessness since it could be a naughty or impulsive decision.

I also wanted 1, 4, and 5 to be independent of one another since someone could be more outgoing but very timid when they flirt and cautious when they act. Outgoing/Reserved is another that needs some adjusting as well and will be tweaked in the future.

The others are more straightforward. If an action or speech choice is more kind/soft/mild/considerate, I label it "gentle." If it is more direct or even a bit aggressive, I label it "assertive." I kinda just have to use my own interpretation as best I can, and I know that to other people some of my options will feel flipped (occupational hazard, lol).

I have liked this system for the most part. It took a lot of working out when I got started. I was just learning so it was easily a solid week of me just hammering out what I understood and what worked. I have learned so much since then. I knew I wanted to keep things paired down to ease my own burden. Lots of stats can be so much fun in a game, but I just do not want to get too lost in it, so I keep my focus narrow.

Hope that helps, Nony! If you have follow-up questions, please feel free to let me know! ^_^

A side note, while we are on the subject...

For my next IF, I may play with a different way to set the MC personality. I may just have players pick at the beginning from either specific stats or like 4 or 5 MC archetypes. The wheels are still turning on this though, nothing is set!

[leviiackrman]

I haven’t made a new oc in such a long time I’m getting withdrawals

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Shout out to all artists who had to work without any strong direction or instruction.

I wish you a merry “the client likes it anyways”

[caluupin]

Finished TGAAC around 2 1/2 weeks ago but only finished the doodles today. but still, here ya go!

[strangewiggles]

been thinking about octo expansion lately..

if youre a friend of mine (or follow me here lol) you probably know ive been trying lots of style exploration and trying to move from my pixely simple style. this one was a big experiment, i think i learned a lot! mainly with shading and texturing, but a lot of the experimenting here was the colors. here are some progress shots.

[starrysharks]

zeno's ultimate pokemiku tierlist ⁉️(it's all his opinion and he loves them all regardless⁉️)

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

obsessed with their different reactions to being called starcrossed lovers

[sonadow4life]

The first one was Violets original design. She was supposed to be 17, light blue with purple markings (like classic sonic), abandoned in the woods by Sonic cause he didn’t know how to parent and that’s what his parents did, Shadow didn’t even know about her until she confronted him looking for Sonic, knowing that Shadow was her dad and thinking he did too and is basically on a revenge quest after Sonic and finds Shadow along the way. Sonic explains himself and while Violet doesn’t forgive him she give him a chance to prove himself and they are very happy. They end up more like best friends than father and daughter tho. Also Sonic is 29 and she was a fusion of him and Shadow from when Sonic was 12. G.U.N basically took his DNA, took Shadows DNA and merged them before they’d even met.

She is now 7 years old with 2 loving (yet kinda shit) parents who are trying their best and a brother named Shock, autistic and overall just a fairly stable kid.

Idk what happened

[neriyon]

Happy catte and his new horns

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Back at it reading Jason scenes in batman and robin 2009. Gotta say I'm loving the updated Red Hood design here, a significant improvement from the previous in this run, shame we dont really see a good full body panel of it

[sonknuxadow]

im gonna be honest i think they could have done so much better with the sonic x dc designs i feel like most of them are just okay at best and they didnt really play around with the concept as much as they could have to come up with a fun design. but i dont know what to suggest that would make them better