#oh we took such care to get the culture right and it's so important well congrats you failed? :(

[elrastrodetusangreenlanieve]

Whenever I see stuff about That Ballet being lauded as Cultural Sensitive Great Representation I feel myself growing resentful which sucks because I really truly love the company otherwise.

[tgcg]

tell your loved ones

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 12:01 --

TG: hey im on the john

JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.

TG: taking a shit just so were clear

JADE: jeez!!!!!!! even when im not online i have to hear about it

TG: i know you care so youre first to know

JOHN: i'm just giving you a heads up for the bajillion messages you will definitely have about this when you get home.

EB: god, thank you. that is awesome. dave fans everywhere are gonna go NUTS for this truth nugget.

EB: hey, i am at the store with jade!

TG: tell her the news

EB: i did as soon as you first pinged me, don't worry.

TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it

JADE: well tell him i say congrats!

EB: she says congrats.

EB: also that you left your "yeah! woo!" machine at her place.

EB: and that you are gross and smell like a dog took a dump on a fart even when you aren't crapping during our conversations.

TG: goddamn

EB: jk that last bit was me heheh. but she nodded!

EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?

EB: what the hell even IS that?

JADE: its more or less a machine that yeahs and woos

TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos

EB: ok, yeah, that is pretty much exactly what jade said too. apparently this is supposed to be obvious.

JADE: its pretty self explanatory!

TG: pretty self explanatory stuff

TG: anyways im gonna tell karkat this time i think im ready for that

EB: oh shit (LOL), that's a pretty big deal, right? good luck dude.

--

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:03 --

TG: ok karkat can i be unbelievably candid with you is dj crabapple ready for this

TG: this is a really big deal for me but like no pressure

CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?

CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.

TG: no no its good i just really need to confess something

CG: WHATEVER IT IS, TELL ME. I'M HERE.

TG: alright

TG: deep breath strider

--

TG: im dropping mad logs like bars in the ablution block vantas

TG: shit is on fire

TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell

TG: and since im feeling penitent i figure our pesterlogs are pretty much akin to a confessional booth right

CG:

--

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:04 --

TT: Hey Dave.

TT: Are you, by any chance, taking a shit right now?

TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway

TT: Yes, I have had the news forwarded to me via this bountiful virtual dimension of knowledge and culture we call the World Wide Web by a fellow enthusiast, one ectoBiologist.

TT: Frankly I'm heartbroken you didn't come to me about it first.

TT: Please, divulge to your loving sister the nature of your bowel movements, in exhaustive detail. Highlights in a notarized list, an overall ranking grade of your experience, whether you would recommend it to your friends, et cetera. These would be among my most pertinent avenues of inquiry.

TG: you were next on the mailing list rose im already on it

TG: boutta weave a verbal tapestry no holds barred just for you about my rambunctious foray down in brown town

TG: stay tubed

TT: Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't peruse your commodal follies like the morning gazette.

TG: dont act like this has educational value rose

TG: we all know my daily bullshit has got a laugh track

TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting

TT: The best kind, Dave. Only the best kind.

TG: thanks for the vote of confidence

TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged

TT: Of course. I understand it's quite a big deal for you.

--

CG: OK.

CG: SINCE THIS APPARENTLY SKIRTS THE FRESHEST BUDS OF OUR BRO-DOM'S BURGEONING FROND NUB, I *ALSO* HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE.

CG: I HOPE YOUR REFLECTIVE ABLUTION VAULT IS STOCKED WITH FUCKING RUMBLESPHERE TRANQUILIZERS, BECAUSE THIS EXCHANGE IS ABOUT TO GET SHITHIVE MAGGOTS.

CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.

TG: whats up

--

CG: I AM ALSO ON THE LOAD GAPER RIGHT NOW.

TG: oh shiiit

CG: DON'T UNCLENCH YOUR EXPLOSIVE FUCKING SEED FLAP JUST YET, BECAUSE THERE'S *MORE*!

CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.

TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

[dmwrites]

“Yo.”

“Jev!” Gem said excitedly, clutching her phone to her ear.

“Gem?” Jev asked. “Did you get a new phone or something? I didn’t recognize the number.”

“I’m not in Hermitcraft right now, I’m away on another server.” Gem explained.

“Ohh.” Jev’s voice got distant for a second, like he’d pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Modded server area code, I see. Cool. So, what’s good, Gem?”

“Well, okay, so, it’s a bit of a complicated story so I’ll summarize it for you. Basically, I’m on this server, it’s a modded, oh wait you already said that, but yeah it’s a modded server run by Scott Smajor- you know Scott, right? Eh, that’s not actually too important to the story; so in this server we get different origins every time we die, and there are like six lives total, like a cat but… less, I suppose. Anyway, so first I was a swarm of bees which was super cute and so cottagecore, then I was a blaze and I was so hot, and now I just fell off a building and now I’m a slime! Like you!”

Gem took a deep breath and waited for Jevin to say something. It took him a few seconds to respond.

“Uh, yeah, okay, sorry, was just processing all of that word soup… so you’re a slime now, like me. That’s… what it comes down to?”

“Yeah!” Gem said with a smile.

“Well, slimes are the coolest mob out there, so, uh, congrats on that.” Jev replied.

“Yeah! I’m, like, translucent and colorful and I can produce children!” Gem said excitedly.

There was a very pregnant pause from the other end of the phone, so long that Gem had to check and make sure that she was still in the call.

“… produce children.” Jev finally repeated, sounding a little shocked. “Care to, uh, elaborate on that one?”

“I just like… I dunno, pop them out! Like cells reproducing. Do you produce children too, Jev?” Gem asked.

“I- hm, no, can’t say I’ve… no. Must be a modded thing.” Jevin said.

“Well, anyway, all of that silly stuff aside, I wanted to ask you an important question.” Gem continued. She looked out over her lands, a small frown coming to her face. “It’s important.”

“Okay…” Jevin replied cautiously.

“Are there any like slime secrets I need to be aware of? Slime code or something?” Gem whispered it into the phone.

Jevin snickered, then cleared his throat. “Oh, Gem, you called the right guy. Slime. Whatever. Yes, there is a very secret code of the slimes that must be obeyed by all slimes at all times.”

Gem gasped. “I knew it! What is it?”

“I dunno, Gem…” Jevin trailed off. “I mean, it’s super secret… and what if you turn into something else and then tell someone else our secret?”

“I promise! I won’t tell anyone!” Gem cried. “Oh, please, Jev!”

“Okay.” Jevin said. “Gem. The one and only code of the slime is as follows: all slimes must fart when they enter a room. It can be silent, it can be loud, but it must be a fart. For whole slimes, it’s easy, they practically make wet fart noises every time they move. For slimes like us, we just gotta fart.”

“Fart? Really?” Gem asked, frowning. “I never hear you farting when you walk into rooms.”

“Oh yeah. It’s very important to slime culture.” Jev said importantly. “If you don’t, other slimes will really look down on you. And I have mastered the silent fart, that’s why you don’t hear me.”

“Okay.” Gem said, nodding her head. “Farting. Every time I enter a room. Got it. Thanks Jevin! What would I do without you?”

——

“Who was that?” Cleo asked when Jevin sat back down next to her in Cub’s TCG arena.

“Gem. Who’s winning?” Jev replied, nodding at the TCG match between xBcrafted and VintageBeef below.

“On a numerical level, Beef. But on a spiritual level, xB.” Cleo replied. “So what did Gem want?”

Jevin snickered. “So she’s a slime origin on some modded server she’s playing on right now, and asked if there were any, like, rules of slimes. I just lied and told her that slimes have to fart every time they enter a room.”

Cleo cackled so hard that Joe Hills, who was moderating the game, threw a trident at her to shut her up.

“Oh my god, Jev! You didn’t! Gem is going to murder you when she finds out the truth.”

“Whatever. Worth it, tbh.” Jev replied, and joined Cleo in laugher.

[thatfoxnamedfinley]

You Cannot Have My Pain aka Oathbringer thoughts

I am an empty shell

in both a good and a bad way

it's 5:28AM as I start to write this

MOASH

how DARE you

Dalinar I actually love you

Odium, u r actually a CREEP dude

spoilers will be under the cut *bows an emotionally drained bow*

*stares into the distance, watching the waves crash onto the shore*

Do you guys ever relate to a character that's nothing like you? Like, something happened in your life that CONNECTS you to a character? For me, that's Dalinar.

And I know what you're thinking

WHAT bitch?

a warlord tyrant turned peacemaker, eh? r u a criminal bitch?

No. But I did lose my mom to cancer in 2022. My internal landscape changed overnight. The things I deemed important changed. I was able to finally see my flaws, made bare by my immense regret (a normal feeling when grieving) and it look a LOT of therapy to forgive myself. I didn't like the person I was. I was selfish, was quick to judge and didn't desire human connection, and I was so mad at myself that it took my mom dying to spark that change.

Without making this a TED Talk, I deeply connected to Dalinar's grief that struck me in an unexpected way.

"Sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a man in the process of changing." Oh...? Oh. Oh. TEARS down my face.

LET US BEGIN.

So, we BEGIN the book with Dalinar seeing a figure in black Shardplate with nine shadows and red eyes

oh ok

Oh bro when Elhokar bowed down to Dalianr trying to abdicate and name Dalinar a Highking...& Dalinar and Navani are like

!! bro !! GET UP

OMG!!

WHEN HIS MEMORY CAME BACK OF EVI

I remember reading it and they were like "blah blah blah yeah, Evi" and I was like bro WAIT A FUCKING SECOND DUDE

oh oh oh

When Pattern asked if Adolin was an option for him to marry LMFAO ok Pattern we get it hahhhahhaha Pattern is so funny dude

Even in Shadesmar when he and Adolin were pretending to be illusions and he was happily waving a glass stick above his head, I'm like damn he's....a little touched tbh

Dalinar strolling around during a highstorm looking for a fucking knife was iconic as well as him spotting the assassin in literally 0.5 seconds and murking him and everyone in the room is like

Gavilar was like "um thanks"

Blackthorn Unleashed was an amazing chapter. He went into Bloodstance - a stance for someone who didn't care if he got hit and he was RAGING

But you know what I also noticed about this chapter? Gavilar like, casually put a hit out on Highprince Kalanor and juts points Dalinar wherever he wants. And I GET IT, right? Like, the Alethi are good at war. Everyone talks about it, it's what they're known for.

HOWEVER, the enabling of Dalinar's behavior is, at times, sickening. Even though I know this is a cultural thing and they all see it as a good thing. There were several times in this book where Sadeas or Gavilar said something to push Dalinar towards violence that I was like YO this is super fucked up.

Tangerine had a interesting quote too. He was telling a story about how if there were 3 people and one was a murderer, would you hang all of them, let them all go and risk someone killing again, or keep them all in prison despite some being innocent. And Tangerine said

"Eventually you will execute someone who does not deserve it. This is the burden society must carry in exchange for order." And I'm sitting here in the US of A like

holy fuck we're rich bitches <-- my audiobook bookmark when the Midnight Mother is chased away by Shallan's phalanges and we see all the uncut gems in the pillar thingy

JASNAH WELCOME BACK BITCH I was lit and it was so unexpected, she was such a badass in this book. At the end when she isn't even looking when she's killing The Fused and when she steps into politics and I'm like oh Jasnah will STEAMROLL these mother fuckers

OMG when Adolin was like I am NOT going to be king, dad and Shallan was like "hmm have you guys ever thought of..." and I rolled my eyes and was like "Renarin, duh. He'll have more prominence in the story this way and"

*Jasnah walks into the room with a crown on*

OF COURSE!! IM A FUCKING IDIOT!!! OF COURSE JASNAH SHOULD RULE. Omg I feel like she hates politics but she's the PERFECT one for the job! She can be the best diplomat but also fuck them up with words (or she could soulcast tf outta them)

OH! Evi suggesting the Nightwatcher first was a surprise

omg wait about Evi

she was amazing. she tried so hard despite not fully understanding everything (I do blame Dalinar because he made decisions, but I mostly blame Alethi culture, here. I cursed out loud multiple times at their NEED for conquest and war, growing frustrated at how narrow minded that can make them. as well as how cruel). she was scared of him, but she had this one moment when she told Dalinar after finding out that he had actually spared that child, that she saw BEAUTY in him. i was like oh bitch you are a baby angel

she tried so hard for Dalinar. even that scene when Adolin crawled down from the carriage and he saluted Dalinar...and Evi said Adolin asked her the best way to talk to him and when she told him he was a war general he decides to salute

that's just....that moment was so sweet despite Dalinar still not understanding how to be a father

LIFT SAYING THAT DALINAR HAS A DUMPTRUCK OF AN ASS WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENES

Lift out here like "HEY YO TIGHT BUTT WHATS GOING ON?"

holy fuck

Dalinar in canon having a nice ass is one of the funniest, most unexpected comedic jokes of this series

oh, Shallan was supposed to take notes but was drawing Kaladin instead ok girl

Teft being addicted to firemoss and Rock saving Kaladin with the Shardbow were both so amazing characters moments. teft having so much self hatred and selling his uniform which ended up coming back around when the person who attacked bridge 4 for the herald blade had his vets on PHEEWW and Rock saving the day I SCREAMEDDDDD!!! OMG ROCK!!!

"You're thinking of me," the Stormfather sent. "I can feel it."

BRO WHAT???????????? STAY IN THE STORM WHY YOU SAYING WEIRD SHIT

Jasnah vs Amaram was legendary. She REALLY said do you feel lucky today, punk

ODIUMMMMMMMMM

yo when Odium showed up literally the nicest dude wanting to braid Dalinar's hair I was like HELL NO this man is dangerous

then when he showed Dalinar his final form I GUESS he's like all hatred and passion and sex and bloodlust and im like oh HELL NO dude

"Emotion. It is what defines men - though ironically you are poor vessels for it. It fills you up and breaks you unless you find someone to share the burden with" oh ok cool odium, lol poor weak humans, fuck us then i guess

Kaza was maybe the most memorable one off character for me, the soulcaster woman who was dying and chose to kamikaze at the end because she wanted to choose how she went out

Lift and Dalinar eating fruit together in silence is, I fear, iconic

i cracked up at the myth wit told about the queen who switched places with Mishim (the moon) to fuck Nomon (the other moon) and that's why Natanatan people are blue

like wtf bitch

Adolin telling Kaladin he talks like a girl sometimes....oh? Adolin? OH?????? *smirks in Alethi*

The Rathalas scene was nuts. The thing was he tried too, Dalinar tried to offer some sort of mercy and they fucked his ass with a pole. Then he's like ok, dope *embraces Thrill in a sensual embrace* "None will be left to weep" got it cool cool cool

I do like the little hints left, like he sees red (which we see later is the Unmade) and all the times he's briefly seen red and flashes of red we know was the Nergaoul, who was thought to be the origin of the Alethi "Thrill" which I found fascinating

OOOOOOH MY GOD

MOASH

MOASH!!!

FUCKING MOASH

HOW DARE YOU!!!

after he was EMOTIONLESS when he KILLED Elhokar then SALUTED KALADIN WITH THE BRIDGE FOUR SALUTE RIGHT AFTER IT

Literally fuck Moash (his arc is fine and it's interesting because we get more lore but I dont like him)

THEN HE SHANKS JEZRIAN like MOASH wtf are you DOING bro?!?!?!?!!!!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!!?!?

I liked how cautious Queen Fen was but then remained an ally when shit hit the fan (I liked how cautious everyone was tbh because they're all just so scared of ThE BLAcKtHoRn and youre like bro come ON but then you're like oh yeah ok i get it)

I LOVED Dalinar's flashbacks. With the Nightwatcher (then Cultivation after Dalinar asked for forgiveness and NW was like ??? and Cultivation was like "I got it from here bitch"), and when he breaks down and holds Renarin ("They talk about you, but they're wrong. You just need to rest, after all the fighting you did. I know. And I miss her too." RENARIN PLEASE!!! THE TEARS I HADDD!!!!!), when Adolin lights up after Dalinar tells him he's proud of him, how he thinks of himself as an animal, that he deserves to be hated. It's all just so MUCH.

The PANIC ATTACK he was having when the Thrill like, chased him around and threatened to consume him...

It was so well done that the

YOU CANNOT HAVE MY PAIN was so GOOD it was so EARNED. God, the CATHARSIS I felt in that moment was so satisfying. Because bitches i really thought Dalinar was going to become Odium's champion and out intrepid heroes were going to have to fight DALINAR in book 4

Odium: lol I've had my champion for a long ass time, bro. ive been preparing him and watching him forever

Dalinar: Amaram?

Odium: lmfao bro its you bro

Dalinar: ...bro

and I was like

Then Dalinar said JUST KIDDING BITCHES and the GLORY SPREN!!! BY THE THOUSANDS!!! AND HE SMASHED ALL THE REALMS TOGETHER!!! AND HE SAVED ADOLIN KALADIN AND SHALLAN!!!

YOU CANNOT HAVE MY PAIN!!!!!

"I KILLED THOSE CHILDREN. I BURNED THE PEOPLE OF RATHALAS!"

oh my god I have GOOSEBUMPS AGAIN

truly one of the most cathartic reading experiences I've had. The investment of 3000+ pages was worth it for that moment, and I mean that sincerely. It was that good

(Side note when Adolin's sword spren with her clawed out eyes attacked that one Fused I was overcome with emotion. What was her name? Maya? I think? that was a great scene too)

yo. SZETH. Brandon Sanderson you brilliant bastard. You did it. You gave us Szeth. Yes. YES. He's chosen to swear and oath to DALINAR. My man DK just be picking up bitches left and right to do his bidding. Kaladin, Lift, Szeth, Rial, Kmakl.

Lift was amazing. Her parts were so much FUN and the atmosphere shift to her personality was so welcome and uplifting and funny when it happened.

Jasnah's moment with Renarin was beautiful. "You are my cousin. Family, Renarin! Hold my hand. Run with me." SO SO SO SO GOOD Jasnah you are a legend you are THE MOMENT

Venli's Timbre pulsing to Victory as he has the Voidspren of her gemheart at knifepoint lmao (Im so glad she's a Radiant now, can't wait to see if she is developed more)

I feel like I have more thoughts (there was so much lore in his book but I'm not sure I have the energy to dissect it rn) but it's 7:22am and I haven't slept so im sorry if this post was unstable

good night lovelies

*sits up violently* wtf is up with sja-anat bro

ok *passes out*

*sits up again with eye mask on* yo Tangerine is gunna be a fucking problem and wtf Renarin has a corrupted spren right??

*wakes up and crawls on top of table, swaying with exhaustion*

I LOVE DALINAR KHOLIN A LOT OK I HAVE STRUGGLED SINCE MY MOM DIED IN GRASPING THAT DESPITE YOUR PAST YOU CAN CHANGE AND ITS POSSIBLE TO UNDERSTAND THE BEAUTY OF LIFE MORE AFTER YOU'VE EXPERIENCED THE PAIN OF LOSING SOMEONE YOU LOVE BECAUSE THEY CAN NO LONGER EXPERIENCE IT WITH YOU

AND THAT GRIEF ISN'T FATAL BUT SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE IT COULD BE BUT IF YOU CAN FIND A WAY TO PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN OF GUILT AND REGRET IT CAN ACTUALLY MORPH YOU INTO A BETTER PERSON IF YOU LET IT

[xxxregulusblackxxx]

It's controversial in the ATLA fandom but I like no LOVE the live action! Sure the secret tunnel episode was not needed to add but I really liked how they've done a lot of the characters. I liked how they put more focus on Socks feeling second or third best in the first season and took away the misogyny. Yes that is common in different religions and cultures but it's also never brought up again after Kyoshi Island. And a lot of people are saying that Dallas and Elizabeth don't look like their characters which yeah, Elizabeth has a baby face but her character is also 14 who tf cares. You're made that she doesn't look as much like Azula because you have a crush on Azula and are mad Elizabeth doesn't fit the idea you had in your mind. Dallas on the other hand I think looks incredibly like Zuko. So again they have slightly different face shapes but he plays Zuko so well and gets his rage right and adds his sarcasm and sass perfectly, plus giving us the hints of social anxiety that we know Zuko has in later seasons.

Okay yes the combined multiple episodes but the episodes have about an hour of run time each and they took out so much unnecessary filler and episodes that are not needed. Like no I don't need 5 minutes of filler in a 20 minute episode I want all plot that's the only way to keep my attention! And they did just that. They kept my attention the whole time and gave a lot of information to new fans that helps you under the universe a lot better than in the cartoon.

I do agree it would have been nice to cast Inuit actors for Katara and Socks but I also believe the casting director were looking for they acting ability of the actors and how they embodied the characters.

The writers did mess up Katara though. She's supposed to be more no nonsense and have that female rage which, Kiawentiio, the actress of Katara embodies but was given the chance to show off with how the writer wrote her character. But I hope they'll write her better next season.

Also! I've seen a lot of people mad we get more Azula content in season one of the live action but I love it. You can see her already feeling the pressure of her father and the world as she's constantly watched and ridiculed and expected to be greater than anyone can be ever, especially at her age. Her breakdown in season 3 isn't something that would just happen. They gave her barley any signs in the cartoon besides the final episode. So now we get to see her already dealing with everyone and slowly get her descent into madness and pressure over takes her which I find really cool and something that's realistic. We also see her relationship with her father being established which is really important to see how he expects to much of her while at the same time brushes her off which is exactly what will be the catalyst for her breakdown in the final season

Oh and as a Zukka shipper Dallas and Ian also shipping it and giving us content is everything I want to do if I ever land a major role in Hollywood

[cuprohastes]

The planet of terrible choices

It took Dave a surprisingly long time to ask, “Why are we here”.

“Philosophically you mean?” Asked Phalanges Mitten.

Dave “The Human”, an Adult female Tsin said “Not really.”

Phalanges Mitten, adult Human male — But technically a seven-foot tall dusty purple dinosaur, for tax reasons, squinted a bit at his friend and pursed his lips.

“Well in the long term, to provide an environment for replication, because evolution doesn’t really care why or how as long as you do. Medium term, to make sure the toilets don’t back up and short term, because it’s Delicious Unexplained Crunchy Food Stick day, and we wanted lunch?”

Dave examined his all-species ‘It’s not chicken, but you can eat it’ finger. She dipped it in some Aumu sauce mixed with chives. “I mean, you’re not wrong…” she said. 

Leaving comments open to see where the conversation went was always a fun game.

“But no, I mean the station. We’re orbiting this planet right, because there’s something down there that everyone’s interested in, but not urgently. But I don’t think I ever asked why?” She said, and snarfed down the breaded mycoprotein with a frankly adorable muzzle wiggle.

“Oh.” Said Phalanges. “Well, uh, it’s of special scientific… uh. Actually, that’s a good point.”

And at this point, let’s introduce Cat Fantastic: Cat is an actual Atrix, but currently they’re about the size of a chonky iguana. Cat’s issue is that he doesn’t have a patch of chromophores on his forehead, which is the very important non-verbal part of Atrix communication.

Frankly, not having the patch trips some really severe ‘uncanny valley’ responses, and the Atrix just got over their tendency to stamp on hatchlings who are missing their display patch.

Due to Phalanges (Prior name: Dave the Human, which an astute reader would also notice is the name the Tsin is using) hanging out in the Atrix section, someone arranged for Cat to team up with Phalanges. Who and how is currently a mystery, but now Phalanges has his own ‘Little Guy’.

Which is to say, they’re hanging out together and Cat is learning the fascinating subject of fixing the station’s sewerage and reclamation system, and officially they’re a team.

Cat in this instance peeks over the edge of the table from where he’s sitting on one of the chairs munching his own lunch and says “Graaaaaaak”.

Phalanges and Dave look at him with surprise. “Really? Well, I’m glad someone looked it up.” Says Dave. “Go on then…”

A tale of cultural incompetence.

So the way Cat Fantastic tells it is like this:

At some point in the history of the planet, the inhabitants had developed nations and a couple of religions.

One in particular did very well due to the leaves of a specific type of tree: It had very broad smooth leaves which were naturally coated with an antifungal, anti-biotic wax. Which made them ideal for washing down and using as plates, or for wrapping food. Or, indeed, boiling off and making an effective topical medicine.

This gave the nation a bit of a boost. They didn’t get sick as much from spoiled food, their first aid was a bit more effective, and so on. And so over time, the practice of using leaves from plate trees led to two important results:

First, there were more people, so more plate trees were cultivated to produce more leaves.

Second, the people developed a whole set of traditions, and beliefs which codified into a religion, who’s main theme was that the people were so good and perfect that the gods had gifted them with paper plates. 

And anyone who didn’t use them, like those icky guys over by the coast, who insisted on using wood bowls smeared with leftovers, were extremely gross and obviously not in favour with the gods due to being somehow inferior.

OK, so the obvious solution is to grow more trees, clear out all this useless vegetation and only keep plants which you can eat.

And thus agriculture was born, followed shortly by the coast people being forcibly converted into leaf plate using or mysteriously all setting fire to their own huts and vanishing, what a mystery.

You should definitely not look into what’s being used as fertiliser for the plate trees.

Anyway. This nation, very pleased with their righteousness, took their brilliant way of life and slowly nibbled away at their neighbours, most of whom were still hunter-gatherers.

All was great, hail the plate tree.

And then because they’d planted a vast monoculture, and cleared out anything that wasn’t food or plate trees, they caused a massive environmental collapse. 

Due to the insistence of e.g. introducing a fast-growing, water hungry plant to a biome that couldn’t really support it they caused desertification.

They wiped out many ‘pest’ species and flora that was pretty important to the smooth running of the ecosphere, causing further collapse.

“Ah.” Said Dave. “Yes, I can see where this is going.” She added and nodded to the planet, which was not a healthy colour.

“Speaking from experience, turning your planet to dust is a real embuggerance.”

Phalanges nodded sympathetically. The Tsin had discovered space robotic space flight and, within thirty years, developed orbital bombardment. Then someone had determined that those guys over there needed to be taught a lesson.

And that’s how the Tsin spent the last half millennium living in bunkers and trying to restore a working biosphere from whatever their ancestors had managed to preserve.

It’s also the reason the Tsin are having an issue with genetic bottlenecks.

Phalanges nodded in agreement. Humans had done a number on their biosphere, but the remediation had been more or less working, albeit slowly and fitfully when the Wallandernook showed up and sold them a janky old spacefolder, and it’s hyperefficient energy conversion engine.

“So they, what, tried to outrun their environmental collapse by invading more land?”

“Graaak”

“Ha, called it…”

The People had indeed pushed further to plant more plate trees and acquire more Prisoners-With-Jobs to look after the farms, temples and so on.

By the late stages they’d even begun to realise that the leaves were the issue and that one could make replacements out of pressed fibre, or eventually, basic plastics.

Which of course were both problematic in themselves, and also deeply heretical to traditionalists.

And now, the planet was a nutrient poor world with a massive monoculture, slowly speciating from the original plate trees, with massive deserts and dessicated plantations, and a crumbled array of civilisations.

The cities and towns abandoned by the people who’d slowly gone back to hunting and gathering and slowly fading away.

And above it all, a station filled with people from other worlds who’d banded together to discover what history was left, and document it.

“Wow.” Said Phalanges, lunch long since finished. “Sounds exactly like the sort of thing Humans would do.”

“And Tsin” said Dave.

“Graak.” Said Cat.

“OK, but Atrix are different.” Said Dave. “Everyone knows you guys don’t use plates.”

[where-dreamers-go]

Reading and rambling: The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm

(Tales from Alagaësia VOLUME 1: ERAGON)

~~~

PART ONE: THE FORK

II. A Fork in the Road

~~~

.... Where the blazes is this?

WHO'S point of view is this??

AND WHY do I feel like it's passed their curfew???

Umm. Essie, sweetie, should you be home? I feel like you're a child. Where were you and is it late?

Wharves. Uh. I need the dictionary again.

Is this a winter-y place by the sea or waterway? Girl, hurry up and go home.

Great, I'm still thinking about getting Eragon more protein rich foods and now there's this one!

"I see. Does that make her important?"

Essie shook her head. "It makes her think she's important."

Oooh. We're getting the tea!!! And this "unknown" man has an excellent vocabulary. Uh-huh. I know who you are, pal. "Tornac" ... nice name. 👀🧐

"Essie Siglingsdaughter."

*closes book*

"Who named your mother??"

... All this children drama is intense. Like: been there with dealing with 'miss all-that's'. Do you need help, sweetie?

"Then maybe they weren't really your friends."

Speak the truth! 👏 Give her a head start in learning that. Just because you're social with someone, even for years, it doesn't mean their a friend.

A snort escaped Tornac. "If you don't count being shot at by arrows, then yes."

A young girl who has her sights set high. You know, Beor Mountains high. It's nice to see humans saying something positive about the dwarves and not watching the elves from a distance as if they were wise, mysterious, rude, hunters. Anyway...

"That . . . is a very impressive scar. You should be proud of it." And --> "Because a scar means you survived."

Love it. Love yourself!

"... the big oaf."

A new scar for Tornac from a friend? Hmmm.

"A long, long way from here."

Okay, now with the war and battles over with, I'm curious as to where other people live. Because the only ones native to Alagaësia are dragons and dwarves, right? So what are other human cultures like? Have they traded with other dwarves? Are there advancements in the far north? Do they have eye glasses?

Also, can we just appreciate "Tornac" just being truthful and leveling with Essie on a person to person level?? Trying to bestow wisdom.

And first hand learning apparently if Essie continues to watch everything.

"A whole field scattered with stones."

"Black and burnt?"

"As if seared by fire, but with no sign of flame or smoke."

Hello, mystery. And they smell really really bad...

"... Hand over the rest of your gold, or the youngling here will pay with blood."

Ooooh. Things should get interesting. It's building the tension.

Hold on a minute, folks, we have a development.

Tornac used magic, but it didn't work because all these smelly and armed guys have charmed necklaces. Who's witch-woman Bachel? And how come they don't call it magic?? Ooooh. Different places, different names, different beliefs.

Anyway...

And then he spoke a Word, and such a word it was.

Oooooooh!!! Snap, here we go!

Oh, guess they're under Nasuada's magic laws too. Thanks for clarification, Essie.

Uhhh. The Word didn't change anything. This is a disturbing sign. Yup yup.

*reading fight scene be right back*

"You do not know what you seek, Wanderer. You're moon-addled and nose-blind. The sleeper stirs, and you and me--we're all ants waiting to be crushed."

I feel like this is important along with where the nasty stone is from.

Uh, who are "The Dreamers" and why do I feel like there's a scary plot hidden.

Essie, darling, this is your first step into a wider world. Use the fork well and learn much more.

MISTER STABBY!!!! All the love to Essie, goodness.

. . . Murtagh lifted his head and took a deep breath of night air.

Murtagh, you softie.

Always more mysteries . . .

That's what I'm saying! Let's get down to business~

So again he wondered if perhaps the time had come to turn and face his past.

Someone was watching The Lion King.

Yeah! Go find the witch-woman Bachel and be careful.

Oh my goodness. What a fascinating chapter. I hope we will get an update on Essie in the future. That would be neat. I mean, why would we go from the dragons showing Eragon the world to a complete different point of view.

Was there another purpose for such a view or just because she was closest to Murtagh at that point?

Hmmm

[hopeymchope]

Really weird how Mikan killing Saionji is never brought up. There are no signs of saionji being scared of or even hating her for what happened. It's like it was just brushed off. I dislike saionji but still, pretty weird.

This did come up once before around here, but I think the important thing to remember is that we're never given any idea how long they were all awake on the island before those Future Foundation ships arrived there and they subsequently took one of them back to Future Foundation HQ. Based on the "2.5" OVA, we just know Komaeda was the last to wake up, and all available members of Class 77-B boarded the ship shortly thereafter. We also don't see whatever happens on the (seemingly quite a few hours long) journey in-between.

My point is that there's a lot of time when such things could've been dealt with, addressed in some way, etc. And then, when we DO finally see the two of them interact, we only get two short glimpses of them together in the aftermath of DR2:

1) Tsumiki saving her life in the HQ, which Hiyoko gets irritated about - which does track pretty well either way you interpret it: Either as "how dare you save me after you previously killed me" or just "fuck you in general bc I'm a sour bitch."

2) The scene of "Girls A -D" from the Twilight Syndrome case all together during the credits where Mahiru is standing between Hiyoko and Mikan. So... whether those two are directly interacting is somewhat unclear, though it does appear that Mikan might be look at Hiyoko's skewer of meat, if nothing else.

So again, I think there's still room for a lot sour grapes in there, given how little time we spend with them and how little we see of them after DR2's Chapter 3.

I missed this one once before, and I guess my takeaway from Mahiru chiding them about telling her "you reek" (Kazuichi) and describing how smells so bad that it stings your eyes like a demonic eclipse (Gundham) was that, well, Mahiru's not wrong. "You guys are really insensitive!" is a pretty fair statement. Like, it's possible to approach someone's hygiene failings with a little bit of tact, right?

I do love how Ibuki seems legit surprised and fascinated when Hiyoko starts crying about it. She's leaning forward (as if for a closer look) and is just like "Oh, she's crying!" like this is just an alien reaction to her. And Mahiru does at least tell Hiyoko that she really doesn't need to overreact to such a degree.

But yeah. No one in the group really ever defends Mikan. It's something we've talked about around here before. They just blow her off anxieties off like "Mikan's just like that," which might be kind of understandable .... until you factor Hiyoko's abuse into the equation. Here is someone actively exacerbating Mikan's trauma responses, and you're just sort of... sitting there through it.

Speaking of that, here's an Ask I missed a while back:

Obviously this brings up a lot of the same stuff as the ask directly above, but I did want to again point to the time someone Japanese said that looking the other way when it comes to bullying is sort of a cultural issue for Japan. I'm not sure how accurate that is, to be fair. But if that's true, then it seems like there's a lot going on under the surface of Mahiru and/or Ibuki's behavior. (Though Ibuki is sometimes deep in her own head, so maybe she just was easily distracted.)

I guess we don't see too much of the direct bullying by Saionji in the "Despair Arc" part of DR3? But there is SOME, and I do wish someone would say/do something about it when it's there.

But Akane standing up for Mikan in her trial despite not defending her from Hiyoko at any time prior makes enough sense to me, even if I wish she'd been there to step up earlier. Because maybe she doesn't care about getting picked on and insulted — and based on Akane's past history of being insulted or used by people and just never really caring or noticing, I guess that's consistent. But she DOES care about someone being accused of murder and/or executed for a crime, because that's a whole separate level.

I would've liked to have seen more guilt from the entire class when Mikan starts calling everyone out during the trial. She busts their chops for how she's been treated and how no one's ever defended her, and I wish we got more of a stunned silence and remorseful looks from the group when that was going on.

...I'm probably blathering on at too much length again. But for your reading pleasure: There's a whole world of asks and personal ruminations in my anti-hiyoko saionji tag that might be of interest.

[sorcerous-caress]

Just a lil check in to say hi and see how you’re doing. So how are you doing? I hope you’re doing well! Are you itching to write anything in particular lately?

-ex lurker

I'm doing alright, I'm learning how to manage myself and emotions better.

I have been more leaning towards sfw works recently, I still like smut as the next guy, but there are so many other ideas I want to explore first.

Angst, fluff, drama, character studies especially. I want to show more attention to Laezel, Minthara and Karlach. I feel like I've been focusing on Gale, Shadowheart and Astarion too much recently.

Oh but also dragons, and alternative universes! I've been storming a couple prince Wyll ideas but haven't came up with anything yet.

Thank you for checking in anon, I saw your message too and it made me feel better. How are you doing? I hope you're doing well and all, i hope you're staying safe and healthy.

Real Life events and vent below.

I've been preparing for my niece's birthday, i got he the most beautiful cinderella dress I could afford. Which isn't much but It's something that I hope she likes. Also I never realised how hard it is to get your hands on bts merch until 5 of my nieces suddenly became hard-core fans of them.

My dude it is a major struggle, each time I want to order something then look away for a second, it's suddenly sold out.

But it's eating me up, how my niece gets a safe and happy birthday while newborn children are being taken off life support and forced out of hospitals in Gaza. That video of the kids playiny and sliding on the gaint hole in the street previously made a rocket. I don't think I have the right to call myself human anymore, it's beyond horrific what's been happening to them.

Funny thing is, I have always known about the Palestine conflict, we literally read about it in our history books in schools. I remember being in middle school and going home to ask my parents about it, i remember the teachers tearing up when bringing it up. I remember the clear discussions of the horrors happening right now there.

And all of that was softened up and watered down as much as possible for a kid to comprehend. Much like I had to learn about the major world wars, the Palestine history and the many many treaties that were broken by their colonisers took a whole chapter or more out of the school book.

I can't even begin to describe how important and how aware the middle east is of Palestine even before the current genocide intensified. It's straight up embarrassing and shameful how little the current middle east cares or sends aids for Palestine. After all that history, after all those talks and promises.

The rich ones are pandering to the west for a speck of dust of acceptance, ereasing their own culture just to become nothing more than a vacation spot for foreigners.

If you're wondering why the Palestine people have no-where safe to go to, is because all their arab neighbouring countries closed off their borders to them. So they can deep throat the coloniser's dick more I assume.

As much as my own country is corrupted and fucked up, the one right thing we did is that we never recognised Palestine's colonisers as an actual country and never will.

I learned english as a kid on my own to be able to read uncensored books, Agatha Christie ones. The arabic translations clearly had a lot of plot holes and cut content and it frustrated kid me endlessly.

But I didnt realise it would come at the cost of my own culture. I feel like It made me no better than the arabs who suck up to westerns and put english on a pedestal. The same goes for the rest of my generations, we are all young adults and we couldn't have been more disconnected from our roots.

That's why the westernisation of the middle east was barely met with any resistance from us, the young adults who were supposed to be the front line of defence against corrupt governments. The second I saw them fully celebrating Christmas and using fake snow to pander to the west is the second I realised just how doomed we are. They don't even actually celebrate anything, they're playing dress up with someone else's religion and history.

We have our own celebrations, even our own calander with our own new year yet it's forgotten just for us to act out what we saw in Hollywood and Disney movies.

Our own princess, fairytales and folklore. Yet I still bought that Cindrella dress for my niece.

To add insult to injury, the closet thing to a traditional arab princess dress in that store was akin to a caricature of a bellydancer dress.

I'm not better than them. Indirectly or not, all of our combined actions had a hand in dooming Palestine, in dooming our brothers and sisters.

And Christmas will come, and the same arab countries who didn't allow women the legal right to drive a car until 2017-2018, would celebrate it alongside the world. Pretending it's one of them, pretending it's not like its "terrorist" sister countries so please please pick me up foreigners!!

[brandwhorestarscream]

amnsiac starscream au: a well deserved rest.

Starscream felt absolutely , positively, emotionally wrecked.

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong, now tbere was a rift between prime's team and their government , sentinel is angey at him for "swaying jazz away" and the jettwins took two hours to go to sleep properly, they're too scared to stay in the same room as the elite guards.

This should have happened , why did the gods hate him? Was it a punishment for his existence? Or all his horrid actions he committed in the war and exile? Or his own old personality rearing in his head telling him how awful he truly is, it his fault skyfire was lost, his fault that they used him as a scapegoat to bomb vos, his fault for the twins own existence and his fault for his own murderous frame-

"You ok?"

Skyfire, oh wonderful, ever so caring daring flame of his, always knows when to get him from his own crumpling mind,he tried to hold himself together.

Before breaking down in silent sobs.

Skyfire didn't say anything , it wasn't the first time, all he needed to do was be near starscream and hold him while he cried out his anguish.

They stayed like that for a hour, skyfire, gently caresses his wings with soft comforting crooning as he presses tenderly kisses to his faceplates, before starscream was finally able to collect his words in his head.

"I'm . ..I'm sorry-"

"Starscream..."

"I know, don't apologize for things that aren't your fault, but today was...was..."

"Exhausting?"

He chuckled "yeah...thanks"

His wings gave out a small flutter, before pressing his helm to starscream "anytime, now"

He picked up starscream like he weighted nothing, relishing in the starscream small squeak.

"Someone, needs to sleep, tomorrow we'll go on a little trip, i have something special set up, you'll love it.."

"Oh! What-"

He was shushed "no no, it's a surprise!"

Starscream grumbled, but he was tired, maybe sleep will do him good....

---

"So, what's with the paints again?"

"It's a old vosian tradition, i think you'll love it, lil bee"

"Hey! I told you not to call me that again-"

"So, what's importance does this tradition entail?"

"It's....a courting traditional dance"

"Fascinating..."

"Wait...you mean you're finally asking him out?!"

"Shhh!"

"Right,right, they're sleeping, but man, finally!, do you know how awkward it was to see you two skirt around eachother like new bulit younglings?"

"Aren't you a youngling yourself bumblebee?"

"Aaaaiiii uhhh , i mean, only by a year...?"

"We will be pleased to help you skyfire!"

"Thanks prime, you will have so much fun, that, i can promise you..."

There was a mischievous Edge to his tone, withholding glee.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

😍😍😍

PLEASE this is so cute!! 😭💖 tell me it goes well please tell me it goes well!! I've always loved the idea of dancing being a big part of Vosian culture, especially skydancing! Yes yes yes

[magnoliamyrrh]

just in case i don’t want to talk abt this any more tw incest u could just delete this

horrific n downright wrong. i wanna say u n everyone else includin that anon did not deserve this n the collective u deserves so much more but i am so grateful seein people talk abt this. i was raised w the extreme pressure that my gen was goin to break the cycle of that type of abuse n i have to come to terms that we didn’t n that’s ok at least to me. it’s so hard to admit to n so impactful to say out loud but it’s what has to b done. it a type of trauma that’s been in my fam for many many yrs n i gaslight myself into believin that we broke it. i stayed in denial n tbh still am in denial bcuz it’s so hard to blame a fam member. esp for me a girl n a teenage girl at that. this isn’t always the universal reaction so there is no guilt if this isn’t the case or if it is but u still luv them no matter what they did it’s so hard to blame them. but sexual abuse is sexual abuse. i hope to god every day that when i have children that will b when the cycle is broken n it all stops but i will never put the verbal pressure on them the way my parents did. one of them was a victim of smthn v extreme so i do not blame them (there it is again) but it’s torture to feel like u let them down when u did nothin wrong. admitting is always the first step to healin. i’m so proud of u for talkin abt this n that anon n everyone else.

ya! i think even though its uncomfortable as hell and disturbing its important that we talk about it. thank you <3 im proud of everyone who pitched in too, and of you, thank u for sharing; its really not easy. i dont think this is the sort of thing we can heal from individually, you know? especially when its a cultural thing. theres so much shame and fear and repression surrounding this kind of stuff, and the only way were gonna heal from it is if, like u said, well start accepting it and talking about it

and yea youre right it is really hard. like my father crossed any possible line with what he did and he abuses his wife too and. i really just want him dead like i dont give a damn, i have to try to calm myself bc i get too focused sometimes on how much i actually want him to suffer. but even with him at times im like,,,, ,, eh but i still care abt him? i went through a whole phase where i felt like it was my responsabilites to help him or like heal him from how deranged he is lmao. but it doesnt last long. but with everyone else its different. (?) like. i realized like idk a year ago that uh yea my grandma did lowkey molest me and it actually made me feel fucking insane. i had no idea what do with it and i still dont?? and its fucked and definitely not ok but like...,,, we all pretend like its fine or just didnt happen i guess bc its,, normal? acceptable??? its weird as all hell, most of the time i just kinda try to not think abt it because i have no idea how to even feel abt the woman when i do. if anything as much as it definitely kinda fucked me up, im frankly way more pissed abt the physical abuse/beatings and endless insults and yelling and shit - like that actually probably did more damage to me. but still like idk yea i .. idk if i excuse it but i definitely explain it like oh she didnt know better etc etc etc. but that doesnt.. ugh it doesnt excuse it?? but i still love her and care for her?? its a fucking nightmare to try to detangle all that. and the shit w my mom too and other family members like uh yea it grosses me out and definitely got to me, this combination of being raised as property + controlling parents + sexualized + actually being whored out by father has k.o.d whatever mental sanity i could have had and it took me many years to.... idk. even start remotely working through all that. but. i still care abt them...?? i think the fact that its no longer happening and dont rly consider it on the same level as the shit w my dad makes it kinda different in my head but its still not fucking ok

and yea. definitely one of the hardest parts of it is being blamed for being uncomfortable/grossed out or even punished for being so when rly thats such a normal reaction to have to this shit. it is psychologically torturous and it is gaslighting and it rly fucks u up in the head..... and its really hard to get to the point where u dont feel like u did anything wrong or you werent to blame. i do presume that w this particular kind of shit tho a lot of it is that they probably went through similar stuff, internalized and repressed it, never dealt w it, and then just proceed to do the same

i hope to god too ill be different. i want to believe in both of us and this new generation that we'll do a better job. i think the fact that were even talking abt it shows some progress u kno. my mother and grandmother told me for many years that i wont do a better job than them and its just normal for kids to be raised w beatings and yelling and insults and controlling behavior and all that shit,,,, but. ive always been terrified of that. since i was little i knew if i ever had a kid i wouldnt want to put them through any of this. if i cant break the cycle id rather not raise a kid at all. at least for the past like year or two my mother has actually accepted that some of the shit she did wasnt okay and that she was abused by my grandmother too and..... apologized??? which was insane. so. idk. its been a long and weird fucking process. but. i dont think its hopeless

[gardenshomemanagement]

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[agentravensong]

specifics for anyone who wanted to know (huge spoilers!!!):

- called that kamila was jowd's daughter and the "family member" who witnessed the event five years ago basically as soon as it became clear that lynne wasn't (pretty easy to call, i think)

- knew that "sissel" was the one who kidnapped lynne when lauren the flute raised the idea in her playthrough and, after sitting on it for a bit between vods (initially doubted it because it messed with my perception that "sissel" was closer to lynne's age, which, it turns out, had a whole other explanation behind it), i realized it perfectly explained jowd's painting of him: wanting the face of the person whose life he stole to be the last thing on his mind before paying the price for that act. and also from my ace attorney experience (watching rtgame's lps), having one past Incident that all the main characters are involved in just. made sense.

(my backup guess for if the hostage taker was someone else important was cabanella, and that jowd had covered for him all this time, hence his comments about his coat's shadows. had no answer for how he would have come back, other than maybe jowd "stealing" his life was in fact not so literal? but we'll get back to that idea.)

- with the reveal that kamila had apparently died and been saved by someone else after leaving the apartment, my one guess for who it might have been was missle. not the hardest thing to guess since his last scene was, if you took it as more than just a punchline, setting up his return to the plot. even more than that, though, i was going off of a vague cultural understanding that everyone who's played this game thinks missle is like, The Best Dog in Fiction, and i figured that him doing something as big as actually saving kamila on his own would bring him closer to that acclaim. and then he went and proved it right ten times over. oh missle. what a good boy.

- now the big one. if i was buying the idea that "sissel" was the one whose life was stolen by jowd, then i needed to have some kind of an idea for how he came back only to die again in the junkyard. and, well...

like with me knowing there had to be more to missle because of the fandom love for him, there was one character that i had been keeping in the back of my mind because of the prominence in which they showed up in the few bits of ghost trick fanart i'd seen in the past: the fuckin' cat.

so, before i knew about the meteorite, or the manipulator, my crack guess was that, somehow, instead of just dying, the cat's soul and "sissel's" had swapped places. so the sissel we had been playing as was originally/actually a cat, who'd been operating as a human all this time.

as i started playing the game for myself (instead of just watching lps), i tried to keep an eye out for any illusions to sissel being cat-like. there was the kind of basic knowledge about the world that he didn't "remember", and his name rhyming with missle, and a couple other small moments maybe? and also it had come up on lauren's stream that a slightly different spelling of "sissel" can refer to the kind of rope used for cat scratching posts, if i remember correctly. but none of that was enough to make me think it was more than a crack theory.

(then after missle introduced the "swap" mechanic, when we found out there was another guy with even more powerful ghost tricks, i faintly considered the possibility that, perhaps, this "manipulator" might have his own version of the swap -- swapping souls.)

(i didn't have the thought until after The Reveal that, if the powers a ghost gets are individualized, then of course, it makes all the sense in the world for a cat to gain the power to fuck around with objects. of course.)

"sissel" and the cat did not swap souls, i know that now. but, considering that the actual details of what happened are something i could never have predicted that early on... the fact that i was right about sissel, the guy we play as, being a cat actually??? i don't care what anyone says, i'm taking that as a win.

i am genuinely proud of how many of my ghost trick predictions from about the halfway point of the game or later ended up coming true. like, there's a couple that were very obvious and/or i heard come up in the let's plays i was watching first, but i also had a couple of shot-in-the-dark predictions that i got the core of correct without really knowing any of the mechanics that would lead to that.

i def had some wrong guesses (like a guess that the junkyard superintendent's knowledge of Certain Things was because he was related to someone somewhat visually similar to himself, that was a nope), but that's just how it goes.

and the fact that i was right, in a very non-specific manner, about The Reveal, made me so giddy that the other stuff hardly registers.

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[breadqueen95]

Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier. 

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt. 

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him 

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.        

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

[luna-redamancy]

Fix It (Thorin x F!Reader) 18+ NSFW Commission

Thank you @anjhope1 for the Ko-fi! Here is your ko-fi commission! 

Note: The Thorin image as well as the divider is not mine. The Thorin image was originally posted by @thearkenstone-ck​ (I found it on pinterest, luckily the url is at the bottom right) and the dividers used are by @firefly-graphics​​ which can be found Here 

Warnings: Smut, angst, Thorin being an ass for a bit. 

⚠️18+ Content ahead, Please read at your own risk ⚠️

It wasn’t unknown to you that braids have significance, in fact that was the first conversation you ever had with Thorin upon him asking for your approval to court you- how important and vital the braid was. How each placement of the strands of hair was significant, how by tilting the braiding outward you can declare a budding love, but inward you can declare a passing of something, such as a birthright. 

‘Yet how did this happen?’ You mentally scolded yourself as you watched each passing dwarf look at you like you were a conundrum. You knew it had to have been your hair. It was Muhudtuzakhmerag, or Spring Fest, in Erebor and Thorin requested you wear a traditional ‘Queen’s Braid’ to the event to walk alongside him. 

The request itself was simple, and sweet of him, to want you to participate like the queens before you, however, there was not a single portrait of what the said braids looked like. So you simply went by your best educated guess coupled with the old instructions written on ancient parchment that looked like it was going to fall apart any moment now. 

The festival would begin with the giving of the straw. First, Thorin would place a strand of the straw into your hair, and you into his tunic pocket. This was to symbolize the true connection and reliance the dwarves had with nature. The next event was the ‘Carrying of the Straw’ where you and Thorin would lead a line of dwarves through the kingdom, assisting each other in carrying a barrow of straw to the feast room. All to honor Yavana, Mahal’s wife who originally gave the first dwarves their first straw of barley. 

To say this event was huge for the dwarves would be an understatement. And, with this knowledge, you had hoped to look your best for Thorin. 

As soon as you entered the throne room to meet with Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin before the event, you knew you messed up royally. 

“(Y/n)...” Balin began gently, before Thorin’s angry voice startled you. 

“What in Mahal have you done?” Thorin wasn’t shouting, but his fists were clenched like he was desperately trying not to. 

“I tried my best to follow the instructions, is it that awful?” You looked at Balin and Dwalin, your eyebrows furrowed and your expression hurt at Thorin’s tone of voice. “What did I do wrong?” You asked the elderly dwarf, in hopes he would be able to give you advice before Thorin began speaking again. 

“Everything.” He spat, shaking his head with a humorless chuckle as he began to pace the throne room floor. 

“Lass,” Balin began before Thorin held his hand up, “Don’t speak to her.” 

“The one time I request for you to do something specific and you can’t even get that right!” Thorin shouted, making you flinch as you stood back, your eyes beginning to fill with tears. 

“I knew it was a mistake to ever court you, I never loved you to begin with.” 

A gasp left your throat, “T-Thorin…” You felt your heart sink to your stomach. He regretted loving you, courting you, marrying you, all because of one braid? 

“I can fix it,” You offered, your tone showing how close to the verge you were to breaking into tears, wanting to appease him so he wasn’t so angry with you. 

“You can’t fix being human,” He huffed, “I knew a low human would never be able to meet the standards of being the queen of Erebor. If I could turn back time and never let you join this journey, I would---”

“Thorin, enough.” Dwalin all but growled at him. “It is just a braid, you can re-do it for her.” Dwalin tried to reason but Thorin let out a humorless chuckle. “You can re-do a braid, but you cannot redo or undo the damage that has been done. She has shown she does not care about our culture or our practices.”

Looking to Balin, you suppressed a sob as tears went down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” You told him, eyes full of regret and pain as you quickly took the pins holding the braid in place out, the metal clanging as it hit the stone floor. 

“Lassie, it’s alright,” He began to soothe you but you shook your head.

“I’m so sorry,” You repeated shaking your head, exiting the room, with your hand up to your mouth to attempt to muffle the gasps leaving your throat as you continued to suppress the sobs threatening to escape. 

“Thorin what have you done?!” Balin shouted at him as soon as you fled the room, glaring at the boy he watched grow up in these stone walls. 

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

“You will come to regret it. Don’t you realize you just told your wife that you despised her?” 

“I don’t have time to deal with this, we have a festival to lead.” Thorin brushed past both of them to go grab his crown for the festivities. 

As you put on a plain slip and slid into bed, you felt hot tears bubble down your face. He didn’t love you. All because you were human. Your heart ached as you heard the cheering, the Broken Bone Race being completed and the victor being given a medal, Thorin’s laugh trickling into your ears despite the many voices you have heard. That made you begin to sob as you clutched the pillow. 

“He doesn’t love me…” You murmured to yourself, wiping your tears. “He wants a dwarrowdam.” You felt your heart clench as those words passed your lips. 

Sitting up, you sniffled, wiping your eyes almost aggressively as you put on a robe. Maybe something in the library could help you with your love issues. 

Thorin couldn’t deny the worry in his heart as he searched the halls of Erebor for you a few days later. Upon returning from the festivities, Thorin wasn’t too concerned with your absence, figuring you needed time alone from the blow-up that occurred in the throne room, but when it was the third day that he hadn’t seen you at any meals, your very presence and being missing from his day to day activities such as your walks together, he knew something was wrong. 

His gut twisted as he walked down another corridor, before halting in his steps. “(Y/n)?” He breathed out, confused at the sight of you. You were dressed in the average dwarrowdam fashion, your hair up in braids like every other dwarrowdam he had come across. 

It wasn’t you. 

“Yes?” You cut straight to the point as you turned from your discussion with an advisor, and seeing Thorin’s dumbfounded expression, you excused the gentleman as you turned fully toward him. “What is it that you need, Thorin?” Your voice was cold, posture stiff as you stared him down with calculating eyes. 

It was like you were a different person altogether. 

“What happened to you?” Was all he could think to say. 

Tilting your head, you raised a brow at him. “What you wanted.” Was all you answered as you turned on your heel, leaving him in the stone hallway all alone as you went to speak with the advisor once more. 

Bursting through the doorway, Thorin’s voice caught the ears of the Company members fairly quickly. 

“There’s something wrong with (Y/n)!” He yelled out, completely unsettled by your appearance. He knew you preferred your hair loose, not confined by things, and how you liked to wear flowy dresses made by soft fabrics, not thick dresses weighed down with crystals and braided fabric tassels. 

“You finally noticed.” Dwalin scoffed, continuing to sharpen his blades, his disapproval of Thorin very clear. 

“Aye, it wasn’t like she was missing from your chambers for three whole days and four whole nights.” Balin’s tone was clearly passive aggressive as he handed out documents to each member. 

At Thorin’s lost expression, Balin chuckled bitterly. 

“You told her you didn’t love her, that you despised her because she was human and what did you expect her to do!” Balin finally lost it, throwing his papers across the room, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“She didn’t deserve that, Thorin!” Balin yelled, a tear going down his cheek. “All she wanted to do was make you happy and instead of applauding her effort and guiding her to the correct way, you belittled her! You ruined her self-esteem and told her she meant less than the dirt on your boots.”

“She didn’t deserve any of that… And now… Now you have the audacity to come in here like you did nothing wrong?” 

“I didn’t realize…” 

“You don’t seem to realize a lot of things, Thorin.” Balin huffed moving to pick up his papers as Fili, Kili, and Ori helped collect them from off the ground. 

“I have to do something.”

Bofur shook his head, “If she’d let you.” 

Thorin looked at him like he just grew two heads. 

Rolling his eyes, Bofur shook his head again. “You were an utter arse, Thorin. You expect some weepy apology is going to make her forget everything you said? How little your actions have done to prove you do indeed care for her?” 

“She’s lost weight, Thorin. She doesn’t come to meals, she hardly sleeps. And what do you notice? Oh, that she’s wearing a traditional dress.” Bofur’s sarcasm seeped through his tone. 

“Y’know, Thorin, I hope she doesn’t forgive you. I hope she doesn’t let her sorry excuse of a One back into her life.” Bofur’s words cut into Thorin, hitting him where it hurts most. And for a moment, Thorin wasn’t Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, king of Erebor. In this moment he was a young dwarrow being scolded. 

“But if you do somehow manage to weasel your way into her good graces, you better work your arse off to prove to her that you care for her.” 

“I will.” 

Bofur huffed through his nostrils as he went back to carving a wooden duck as if Thoin wasn’t even there. 

“You better go find her, then.” Dwalin nodded to Thorin, a small smile on his face was all Thorin needed to feel encouraged as he set off to go find you. 

Seeing Thorin for the first time in the past couple of days affected you more than you’d like to think, his harsh words being pulled from the back of your mind to the forefront, replaying in your head over and over. Instead of meeting with your advisor, you waited until Thorin was gone so you could go back to your room, the room you originally had before you and Thorin were wed. 

Looking into the mirror, you couldn’t help but criticize everything about yourself. Your braids weren’t as taught as how they were this morning. The gown made you look radiant this morning but now it felt like a bulky mess that you shouldn’t have attempted to wear. 

“Is it all for nothing?” You wondered as you stepped away from the vanity mirror and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“He didn’t even notice.” You scoffed, flopping backwards. 

The next morning, Thorin was adamant on approaching you. 

“Good morning, Dushin-Mizim (dark jewel).”

“Morning, King Thorin.” Your reply was short as you walked past him, your hair half braided today, and in a less formal traditional dwarvish gown. 

Thorin frowned, usually you’d kiss his cheek and say “Good morning, my love,” to him before he’d hold your hand and the two of you would walk together. Not that he blamed you for not doing so.

Instead of eating with him, you sat at the other end of the table, alone as you carefully ate your breakfast. 

Sighing, Thorin brought the water glass up to his lips. ‘I deserve this,’ he thought as he watched the way the sunlight filtered through the sky-lights, making a rim of light circle the top of your hair, making you look angelic. An ache began to settle in his chest, he missed you. 

He’s got to come up with a plan. 

“How was your day, Ghivashel (Treasure of all treasures)?” Thorin attempted to make conversation as you approached after exiting a meeting.

“Perfectly fine, King Thorin.” You responded icily as you walked past him, your face stoic until you moved where he couldn’t see your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you bit your lip. ‘Does he love me still?’ you pondered, but that thought was quickly squashed when you realized he began to act lovingly again once you were in dwarvish attire. ‘He loves the facade.’ you decided as you walked to your room. 

Looking in the mirror, you shook your head. “This isn’t me.” You murmured to yourself, while you had nothing against dwarrowdams, you knew this style of dress, this hairdo, it wasn’t yours. It didn’t suit you. You felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing, an imitator waiting to be revealed. 

Unravelling your hair, you sighed as your scalp was relieved of the taught pressure. Reaching behind you to unravel the laces of your bodice, you let out a relieved groan as you pulled the thick fabric off of you in favor of pulling on a light night gown. 

Returning to the mirror you brushed your hair, refreshed to see it how it usually is. Free and relaxed. 

“I’m done pretending... “ You told yourself, nodding to your reflection. “I am (Y/n), a human.. Not a Dwarrowdam.” You felt tears build in your eyes, “and if Thorin wants one so bad, then so be it, but I will not erase myself for his pleasure.”

The next morning you felt alive again, as if someone had cleaned out the cobwebs of your chimney and lit the fire once more. Putting on a loose gown, you only brushed your hair, carefully placing oils where they were needed before looking in the mirror. You finally looked like yourself again. 

“Good morning, amrâlimê (My love).” Thorin called out to you as you exited your bedding chambers, making you pause in your stride.

“Good morning, King Thorin.” You responded blandly, watching as he analyzed you, your expression cool but your heart hammering inside of your chest. Would he say anything? Would he stop calling you the names you cherish close to your heart?

“You look radiant,” He smiled at you, before letting it drop, his expression turning serious. “I would like to have a talk with you, today, whenever you have time, of course.” He looked nervous as he spoke, something you hadn’t seen since the day he asked to put in your courting braid. 

“I’ll be free this evening,” You told him, curious as to what he needed to tell you. 

You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he nodded, like he was having an inner conversation before looking into your eyes. 

“Would you… Do me the honor of meeting me in the gardens this evening?” Thorin held his hands behind his back, nervously rubbing his thumb over the other one, just waiting for you to say no.  After all, he had to earn your trust again, to earn your love again. 

You paused, a ‘no’ quick to push itself to the tip of your tongue, but as you watched his eyes dart around your face, his eyebrow scrunched like how it always does when he’s worried, you felt your face soften. 

“I shall.” You chose to say instead, a smile threatening to lift your cheeks as he perked up like a puppy, a spark returning to his eye. 

“You won’t regret it, I promise.” He vowed, hesitating, like he was ready to give you a kiss before physically holding himself back. 

Coughing nervously, he nodded, “I will see you then.” 

You couldn’t deny the disappointment that bubbled in your chest as he walked away, you had hoped he would offer to walk you to breakfast. 

“Well with how you’re acting, don’t be surprised if he thinks you hate him now.” Your inner voice taunted but you shook your head, you had every right to be upset with him. 

The day seemed to drag on and on, and as you dragged your feet to the dining hall after your final meeting,  you remembered Thorin had wanted to see you. 

“The gardens,” You hummed to yourself as you headed that way, seeing petals of (favorite flower) being littered on the ground. Raising a brow, you followed them, a small smile growing on your face as you approached the entrance to the gardens. 

Thorin stood staring at the stars, his back turned and between you and him sat a table. Two plates, two chairs, two water glasses. 

“So your discussion was a date?” Your voice pulled Thorin from his thoughts, his head quickly swinging to face you. 

“Not exactly, no.” Thorin spoke quickly, as if your words scalded him like a hot pan. 

“If you do not wish to stay for the meal then I will not ask you to.” He began, gesturing to the seat. “But I will ask if you’d like to take a seat so you can be comfortable while we talk?”

Biting your lip, you let out a breath before chucking off your heels, your feet sinking into the cool grass as you approached the table. 

Thorin sighed in relief, believing you were going to turn your back and leave the minute he opened his mouth. 

“What is it you wished to talk about?” You questioned, your voice professional as you took a look around the gardens. Lanterns were placed all around the garden, giving the space an ethereal glow and if you listened hard enough you’d hear the gentle noises of the creek. 

“I would like to apologise.” Thorin stated, and the statement alone nearly made you choke on your saliva. Thorin? Apologizing? 

“I… I have no reason, excuse or otherwise to explain to you why I spoke the way I did.” He furrowed his brows. “I am a horrible excuse for a husband, a failure of a One, and a failure as your friend.” Thorin spoke, his voice close to cracking before he cleared his throat. 

You frowned, not expecting this at all, especially the glassy look in his eyes. 

“I wanted to let you know I did not mean a thing I said.”

“I knew it was a mistake to ever court you, I never loved you to begin with.”  His words replayed in your head, your lip beginning to tremble. 

“Meeting you was the biggest blessing Mahal has ever given me, being able to love you and to cherish you was a gift I threw away,” Thorin’s voice finally cracked, as he let out a shaky sigh. 

“Menu tessu (You mean everything to me) and I was a fool to tell you otherwise.” He shook his head, angry at himself. 

“I love you, (Y/n), I love the way you take the blankets from me when we’re sleeping, I love the way your eyes sparkle when you’re happy, I love the way you care so much for people you love…” Thorin halted himself, looking up to the sky briefly before looking back to you. 

“But despite all of that, I have wronged you, I have wronged you and belittled you,” He frowned at the sight of your tears building in your eyes. 

“And I understand if you would like to leave.”

“Leave?” You couldn’t help but echo, causing him to nod. 

“After all I have done, I cannot expect you to want to stay with me, Men Kurdel (My heart of hearts). I made you feel inadequate, when I should be the one making you feel like a goddess. I failed you.” Tears slipped down Thorin’s cheeks. 

“That is what I wanted to discuss with you, a way to make your life easier, a way to just---” He sighed, “If there is one thing I want, (Y/n), it is to make you happy.” 

“And you think that’s away from you?” You cut him off, furrowing your brows as a tear slipped out, rolling down your face and dripping off your chin.

“I have spent days trying to make myself more like a dwarrowdam because you hate how human I am, because I want---” Your own sob cut you off, your breath hitching as you began to cry harder.

“Because I wanted you to love me again.” Your voice cracked as you barely got out the words, and at the same time, Thorin’s heart felt like it cracked in half as he watched you emotionally collapse in front of him. 

Thorin nearly leapt from his chair, moving to cradle you in his arms, yet unsure as he hovered his form close to yours. 

“Please, love me again,” You whimpered as Thorin pulled you into his arms, tucking your head into his neck as you sobbed. 

“I never stopped loving you, (Y/n),” He murmured into your ear, his arms tightening their hold on you as if this was all a dream. “I am so sorry,” Thorin wept as you clutched onto him just as tight. 

You missed him so much. 

“I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you,” He vowed, pulling away so he could look at you, tears springing to his eyes again at the look of anguish on your face. 

“Just please, come back to me, come back to our chambers, let me hold you, at least for just this night?” Thorin’s tone was on the edge of begging as he cradled your face in his palm, his forehead against yours.

Not being able to find the words, you nodded. And at that moment, he pulled you off the chair entirely, your form clinging to his as he brought you back to your shared chambers. 

Setting you down on the bed, Thorin pulled away to go to your wardrobe. 

“What’re you doing?” You tearfully asked, a whimper wanting to pull itself from your mouth at the lack of contact.

“Your nightgown--” 

“Thorin, please hold me.” His priority was your comfortableness while yours was to be as close as possible to him. Quickly shutting the wardrobe doors, Thorin returned to the bed, barely able to kneel on it before you latched yourself onto him again. 

Hugging him close, you could feel his heartbeat through his tunic. A sigh of relief left you before you looked up to him, seeing him already watching you with admiration and fear. Fear of you changing your mind and walking out of his life for good. 

“Kiss me, please?” You asked tilting your head back to make it easier for him to attach his lips to yours. Thorin’s expression softened as he captured your lips with his own. A needy whimper left your lips as you clutched his tunic in your hands, his own cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. 

Pulling away, Thorin pecked your lips one last time before pressing his forehead against yours. 

“Thorin, I need you.” You murmured, you had been deprived of his touch, of his love, for so long now. 

“I’m yours, I’m here,” He responded to you, not quite understanding your meaning, simply thinking you needed reassurance until you repeated yourself.

“I need you, Thorin.” 

His expression changed from one of concern to something sensual as he dragged his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but question, not wanting you to regret being with him when you were so emotionally fragile. 

“Absolutely.” You reassured, this time capturing his lips with yours, catching him off guard before he quickly fell into the rhythm you were searching for. 

Lowering you gently on your back, you felt the familiar pillows beneath you as you arched into him, your hips rolling into his causing a pleased groan to release from his lips, his hands finding your butt as he controlled your movement against his clothed crotch. 

“More, Thorin, please,” Your tone was leaning on the side of begging as he severed the kiss to pepper kisses along your jaw and neck. 

“I’ll give you all you want, amrâlimê,” He reassured, lifting off of you to help you with your dress, the offending fabric being tossed to the floor before he yanked off his tunic, leaving him bare chested with you in your undergarments. 

“Beautiful,” Thorin murmured, admiring the way your body was laid beneath him.

Smiling at him, you couldn’t help but admire him as well, the small scars from battles that have come and gone, the chest hair mostly covering him, the muscles beneath it. 

You were brought out of your admiring state as he began to remove your undergarments, leaving you bare with him still in his pants. 

“You’re very overdressed,” You hummed as he chuckled, the sound going straight to your core as he leaned back over you to kiss at your shoulders and the valley of your breasts. 

“Don’t worry about me, amrâlimê, focus on you.” He spoke softly as he kissed his way down your stomach, his hands coming up to tease your nipples for a moment, drawing a gasp from you. It served as a distraction as he skipped over your pussy to mouth at your thighs. 

“Thorin,” You couldn’t help but groan out as he purposefully neglected where you wanted him most. 

“Please,” You whined until you felt his breath over your pussy. 

“I said to focus on you, (Y/n),” He hummed, now massaging your inner thighs with his calloused hands. Before you could think of a response, his tongue stole the words out of your mouth as it came in contact with you. Licking, flicking, sucking, you couldn’t focus on what he was doing as the pleasure made you reach out and grab at his hair. 

Thorin swore he would make it up to you, and he planned to start right now through worshipping your body, making you feel every ounce of pleasure he could provide you. 

Looping his arms under your thighs, he held his hands above your hips, locking you in place as he feasted on you. 

“Thorin!” You couldn’t help but moan out, your tone high pitched as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher to your peak. Whether you called his name out of lust or trying to give warning, Thorin wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing for certain: you were close. 

He flicked his tongue over your clit rapidly, circling it before suckling the bundle of nerves into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he aggressively accelerated you to your climax. 

Your back arched as your grip on his hair tightened, your mouth opening in a silent moan as your hips wiggled up and down, his own grip loosening as he let you ride out your orgasm. Releasing your clit from his mouth, he kissed your inner thigh as you slowly calmed down. 

“Men lananubukhs (I love you),” Thorin whispered as he rested his head on your opposite thigh, rubbing circles on your hips. 

“What about you?” You questioned once you got your bearings again. 

Thorin shook his head, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh before crawling up to pull you into his embrace. “All I care about is that you are satisfied, my beloved.” He nuzzled the top of your head, feeling a sense of pride as your thighs continued to tremble from the intensity of your orgasm. 

“I told you before, all I want is to make you happy.” 

It felt like flowers were blooming in your ribcage, something soft and delicate taking place in your heart as you curled into Thorin’s embrace, his arm around the small of your waist bringing a sense of comfort. 

While nothing could erase the past, nor the heart that came with it, you’ve decided that for now, you would enjoy the peace that resonated in your heart. 

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