#so that may have skewed things a lil

[mothofprophecy]

I love your art style so much! If you’re still doing fanon swap asks, Moth Zedaph?

Ë̵͇̹́̇x̴̡͌p̷͔̘͐͑̔e̸͚̊͌̔ͅr̸͎͒i̷̧̒m̵͙͖͂̕ê̶̫̩̰̒ǹ̷̼͕̭̐t̸̯̟͉͗̀͌ ̷͍͉̖̅̚1̸̮̀3̵͓̪̞͠1̸̋̇̊͜5̸̺͇́͒2̸̹͐̀͛0̴̪̈́͒8̷̟͈̰̏͊͊:̴͎̹̱͆͝ ̷͖̪̉̈́̊L̶̤͈̺͆͑A̴̹͊̚͠M̵̨̛̜̿P̵̹̈́

[chstart]

i want to say ordinal scale was the sao universe's pkmn go but. in-universe it gets released in 2026. it's pkmn go,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,2

[btsgotjams27]

the back-up plan | jjk

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

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

sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭

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

You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!

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

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

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

“What do you want, Kook?”

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

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

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

"Bye–Kook."

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

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

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

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

💖💖💖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so dumb.”

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

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

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

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

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

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

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

💖💖💖

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

Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.

“Just saying,” he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s not going to let this go, is he?

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

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

“Deal.”

💖💖💖

monday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Top left above the sink,” you say.

He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s cute, you think.

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

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

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

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

“Right side next to the oven.”

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

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

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

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

💖💖💖

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”

He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re into rom-coms?”

“I love ‘em.”

“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, not saying a word.

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

💖💖💖

tuesday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, this is bad. Really bad.

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

“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

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

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

💖💖💖

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

You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.

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

You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.

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

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

"Ready for movie night?"

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

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

"Yeah, kind of."

"Come here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s cute.”

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

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

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

“No tattoos?”

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

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

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

“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”

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

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

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

“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit—maybe he had company over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.

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

“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an art curator.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How'd it turn out?"

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

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

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

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

He wants to do everything with you, huh?

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

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

"Cool guy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh–I like that idea."

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

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

Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.

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

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

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

You hum in agreement. “Night.”

“Night.”

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

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

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

thursday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t handle a little torture?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”

You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”

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

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

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

“So, you’re okay if I see him?”

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

“Are you upset with me?”

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

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

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

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

Is he serious about this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know it sounds ridiculous!”

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

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

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

Decisions. Decisions.

friday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum. “See you soon.”

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

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

“Yeah,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

When the door shuts, you wince.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ frida castelli, milan ]

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

Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”

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

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

“I like that position too,” he adds.

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

"Should we keep looking?"

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

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

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

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

You nod.

"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do that again,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he could be the one.

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

You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.

saturday.

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

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

It’s Jungkook.

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

You shake your head no.

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

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

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

“Bonner,” you correct her.

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

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

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

Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.

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

She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember Jimin and Theo?”

Hoseok hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s the birthday girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Surprise me,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Two Pink Cadillacs."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon gulps.

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

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

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

“What conversation?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”

Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.

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

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

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

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, about us.”

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three knocks strike your door. No answer.

He gives it another moment before doing it again.

And nothing.

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

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

Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He turns back and hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two years.”

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

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.

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

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

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

"What's that?"

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

You lower your head. "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How would you get out of this mess?

monday.

A notification ding shows up on your phone.

[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]

Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.

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

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

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

“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.

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

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See anything else you like?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was it dedication or delusion?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost done,” Kai notes.

That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.

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

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

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

“It looks beautiful on you.”

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

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

“Jungkook already paid,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You zig-zag around him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If you were mine?"

You hum.

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

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

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

Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should offer him some.

“Then don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened. “You knew?”

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

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

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

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

You deadpan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 31-35 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

The chasm in their understanding of what makes Vivi tick.

The stakes in this scene seem low and the twins are just overdramatizing the danger for the sake of unwinding and being silly, right? Yesn't. One wrong move or word, and they join those leafmen scattered all over the place.

Finding the line between bad actor and caring sister.

Of course Alisaie wants to hang out with Vivi. She doesn't want to admit that to herself, let alone risk looking desperate in her brother's eyes. Tsundere moment. It's been a while since they've. Had a rest. Between rescuing Minfilia from Laxan Loft and making their way to Il Mheg. Alphinaud, at least in my hc, isn't as physically durable, but definitely as stubborn and proud as Alisaie, so he wouldn't simply agree to chill out for a moment. Alisaie makes him tunnel-vision her bad (?) acting and openly throwing the game for supposedly selfish reasons, while she gets what she wanted, AND forces Alphi to sit his ass down.

I’m sorry but I really need to point out that her ahoge did, in fact, launch into the stratosphere.

More under the cut~

....Can you blame her tho.

Vivi’s shirt’s a bit more plain than usual, he needed to wear something practical under his crystarium guard disguise in Laxan Loft.

The flashback in episodes 32-33 has no dialogue per se, only monologues, to emphasize how disconnected they are.

Technically both vivis are real, but Exarch’s memories are definitely heavily skewed. He’d only known Vivi during the CT quests, in this story it’s a month or two in summer, during which literally nothing bad happens, sans the finale. Alisaie, however, got lucky to experience Vivi during Stormblood, his absolute low.

Exarch and Alisaie sit on opposing sides of the bias, one wears pink glasses, delusional and bluepilled, the other one’s (heh) redpilled, perhaps a bit too much. Hence Alisaie feels the whiplash when her jerkass woobie friend suddenly acts mellow (back in the present), still she has the expertise to tell that he’s not affected by a fae spell or anything.

Full page because I’m so proud of the paneling here, simple as this trick is, these speech bubbles blocking Vivi from sight neatly illustrate that Alisaie just babbles away, paying no heed to his state.

With the power of flashbacks and stories told by one character to another, I’m able to revisit any moment in their past whenever I please. I didn’t commit to a linear story because there was no story! Well, just the outlines. Vivi as a character began in ShB because I really needed to fuck that old man, I started writing down the lil scenes loosely connected by the canon plot, and that’s how the whole concept of Fragments came to be.

It may not work for everyone, but my secret sauce’s that you don’t have to begin at the beginning. Make a guy, put him in a situation, then ask a lot of whys and hows to expand his story backward and forward.

Keeping the past events for later allows me to flesh things out at a leisurely pace. This Alisaie flashback is actually an iteration, originally I’d planned to have Vivi stand alone and just think the broody thoughts, and that was supposed to be the transition between ARR and ShB arcs. I grow more writing muscle as I go, and I’m infinitely happy that I avoided that angsty infodump.

Okay this’s becoming a big fat tangent, but I wanted to acknowledge another pitfall: overusing a character as a mere exposition tool. I wouldn’t do this for, say, Tataru or Y’shtola. Being THE flashback haver makes sense for Alisaie because a) they’re close with Vivi, b) her worldview and opinion on Vivi are changing in ShB, she’s a smart lil thing who would slow down and reflect when appropriate, c) she has a distinct arc in my comic, and knowing what’s going on inside that elf brain will give you the most entertainment out of her actions in the present moment.

I’m new to writing and very excited about the story that comes together as we speak, so I like to show around my kitchen. Please lemme know if you enjoy this. I don’t know if I’m parroting the boring 101s, or if this’s actually useful to someone.

“Meals made for me” YEA HE CAN’T COOK. Well, barely.

New sharp outfit, procured by our most magnanimous branch. The “tail” will help me draw the upcoming Titania fight, it adds fluidity to his movements.

*presses the upgrade button*

There's a lot happening in his head that's not being shown. I hope at least some readers wonder who or what he leaves behind in his mind's eye in this moment. What we know for sure is that he doesn’t take too long to make a decision.

Not sure if subtle, but I did try the breadcrumbing:

Unfortunately for everyone, including himself :’>

I love this one especially because, instead of telling that about himself, Vivi asks Ardbert, kinda gauging his wol experience against the other wol’s.

Episode 34 really shook people awake and reminded that we’re off the msq rails with this story. I loved the response it evoked in the tags, lots of thoughtful rambling about being a hero.

Fae temptation jokes and all, but Feo Ul really says what Vivi needs to say out loud to himself.

Normalize prioritizing self-care over world-saving.

Vivi genuinely cares about Feo Ul. That’s unusual. It might be my storytelling mistake that I didn’t show much of his typical indifference before this scene, unless you count the episodes where he does this

instead of hurrying the fuck up with the msq. Or, perhaps, it’s okay, since this gets plenty of attention later on. You won’t miss the fact that he isn’t eager to set himself on fire to keep others warm. Feo Ul just lucked their way into his heart, and, as a result, he approaches the Titania fight with unusual consideration.

/srs mode on ^

Remember how I just talked about developing this story in all directions at once? I planned Vivi to have this demeanor during the early days of writing Fragments. Like, most of the time. He’d be a broody bitch, get slowly thawed by Exarch’s kindness, and... That’d be it. In veeeeeery broad strokes, this’s still the case, but the current iteration has much more nuance.

Vivi and Titania’s likeness has no deep meaning, take it or leave it. Vivi cares about appearances, he was bound to notice this. Feo Ul can see souls, visuals are secondary to them. But Vivi, being himself, must doubt and question everything.

He moves fast and thinks a lot as the adrenaline speeds him up.

Notice how he lets Titania speak and remains quiet. This’s common in most fights: he doesn’t indulge with chats or banter those who he sees as mere targets to destroy. There’s like a point of no return, if an enemy poses no threat and can be talked out of dying, Vivi will speak, sadly he enters this fight knowing that Titania has to die no matter what.

Once he’s familiarized himself with the situation, and realized that Titania’s more than just a mindless husk, things change up a bit. But for now, he just runs in circles, analyzes the situation, and overthinks about their visual resemblance :’>

Sorry not sorry but unintentional reference x’DD

To be fair Vivi IS being a magical boy in this miniarc so this works lmao.

Wrapping up on this note, thanks for sticking with me and reading till the end~

[bonefall]

Have you considered Claw taking down a boar for The Frenzy? I’m not sure if you already had plans with how to deal with it after it attacks Willowpelt, but if it survives Claw could go after it to try and secure his leadership. Since he would continue friendly relations with the Clans, doing something to strengthen that relationship seems like something he could do. I’m not sure exactly how a boar steps up to a dog danger-wise, but thinking about Deadfrost and Shredtail it would probably be a fair bit more difficult. Either way, it overshadowing what Fury was trying to do would help with her backing down from finishing her task, and to allow Ferncould a second to have a fun lil bout of murder while Fury is heading back to BloodClan.

I thought offhandedly about doing something with a boar but dismissed it... but now that you mention it again...

Let me explain a few things about the Frenzy, and how BB!BloodClan passes on leadership now, so that it makes a bit more sense.

THE FRENZY is an event that is triggered when the previous leader of BloodClan either dies, or announces their intent to retire. In this situation, Scourge announces that he wishes to retire.

There are two jobs in BloodClan; Problems and Solvers. There are 5 ranks-- but only a Problem marks these ranks with teeth in their collar.

BloodClan is ruled by three cats; the Head Problem, the Head Solver, and the Leader.

The Frenzy decides who will become the Leader. It can be anyone who's maximum rank, but the event and rules of the Clan HEAVILY skew towards Problems ending up as Leader.

To win leadership, you must accomplish the most impressive feat of all candidates. This is judged by the three heads of BloodClan, or, as many as are currently alive to rule this (in the case of the previous leader dying, not retiring.)

The leader may choose their heir, if they so desire, and offer them one of the "achievements" from their own collar. If no other candidate can perform a more impressive feat, this Heir will win by default.

So for Claw, Scourge has given him a HUGE leg up. Claw has been given the Tooth of Samwise, so anyone who wants to win against him must do something more impressive than killing a dog.

This must be about Fury. She is seeking a way to beat Claw for the throne of BloodClan, and killing a boar is MUCH more impressive than killing a dog. A boar tusk is even larger than a dog's tooth, and an old boar is much more dangerous. Willowpelt is also the Head of Hunting at this period in time, so she could help Fury with this.

The reason why I was iffy on it was that... this is a very legitimate way to win power, and emphasizes that Fury is here to learn more from Clan cats. What would be so bloodthirsty about that, and why would Willowpelt do so much hiding? Unless she planned to Do A Shredtail and sacrifice cats as boar bait, of course.

Which I COULD do, but something doesn't feel... snappy enough about it. It's about the DRAMA, y'know? It's about Willowpelt being brought onto Fury's side because she promises she will bring BloodClan back into isolation, but knowing that Fury definitely has something ulterior planned.

(Also side note: The boar that bites Willowpelt just before Firestar leaves is hit and killed by a car. However, it was a yearling boar. I can happily just bring in its mother, looking for her son.)

Something about it isn't going OOMPH yet. I gotta keep thinking about it...

[topbanana-art]

Finally making an OC info post- by no means is this all of them, just ones that are most active and/or live in my head rent free.

First up- Rhys (DnD 5e - Rime of the Frostmaiden)

20 years Old, Half Orc, Half Elf (sweet baby angel) , He/Him

Fighter- Echo Knight

Absolute Ray of Sunshine; Rhys is from Icewind Dale; more specifically the Nomadic Reghed Tribe of the Elk.

He's unfamiliar with the outside world and even includes settlements in his own country

He's a Himbo basically a big dog.

This campaign lead him to leaving his tribe for the first time after an unfortunate accident which turned him into a small 'painted child' and searching for his missing sister. (both these are sorted now!)

*Rhys found an old oil painting of this child, blacked out and next thing he knew he was that small elf child. Her skin and clothing having the texture of painted canvas, and bleeds paint.

For a good chunk of the campaign he was just a totally normal elf- whose shadow didn't match with the body

---

Dhalas (DnD 5e Annalor)

36 Years Old, They/Him, Triton

Drunken Master Monk

Chill surfer dude vibes

Part of a travelling circus, They're a balancing act

Extremely laid back, Dhalas talks like they fight- dancing around, seemingly without rhyme or reason and occasionally clumsy.

---

Foxglove (BG3)

138 Years old (tweaked her age a lil), She/They, Drow

Arcane Trickster Rogue

Guild Artisan Background- Locksmith & Apprentice Finesmith

Chill and sassy, that Tav who talks their way out of shit.

Skews Towards Chaotic Good

Presents Androgynous most of the time

Must lockpick everything- she's not actually super interested what's inside, she just wants to see the workmanship of the locks and trashtalk how bad they are.

Yeah she's smooching the vampire. (and Halsin)

Naturally cares for others, even at the cost of her own wellbeing.

Has a Phobia of anything touching/going near her eyes- so the start of the game is A Time for Fox.

---

Arslan Dhoro (FFXIV)

21 Years Old (as of ARR), He/Them

Xaela AuRa

Dragoon - White Mage Main (All healer classes tbh)

Stoic, Resting Angry Face Himbo

He struggles to show emotion but he's just pretty shy and cautious about opening up to others.

From the Azim Steppe, he left in his early teens with his father after the death of his mother, to explore the world beyond the Steppe.

His Father Died in his late teens, attacked in Coerthas thinking he and Arslan were Dravanians.

He's extremely soft and protective for the Scions/his friends

---

Shiv (DnD 5e Saltmarsh- campaign completed)

Awful, terrible lesbian

68 years old, She/Her, Halfling

Celestial Warlock - Unicorn Patron w/ a Baby Phoenix familiar, Toby

A piece of shit. Is an absolute asshole and wont let you know she cares.

Lowkey magical girl

Ex-smuggler, who's patron is literally 'I can fix her', 'she can be a better person'. Part of the 'Beyond Skeletons' Pirate crew, she's the medic of the crew.

---

Pymmyr Tathnel (DnD 5e)

Pym

85 Years Old, He/They, Drow

Gloomstalker Ranger

Emotional Support Blink Dog, Princess Liquorice

This boy is scared all the time

Doesn't talk much, but speaks in a soft voice

Has disordered 'Sleeping' and Eating :)

His plague mask has tinted lenses to help ease the strain with how bright the surface is

I wont tell too much about them as a lot of their info is spoilers to other players. But this sad Drow just rocks up in my head on the regular.

---

Erebus (Anima Beyond Fantasy)

AKA- My first TTRPG character! circa 2011-2 I think???

Real name Sho Yoshimitsu

22 Years Old, He/Him

Duk'Zarist Nephilim

Assassin

Textbook 'strong silent and intimidating hot man'

But basically a big soft boy if you break past the mile thick ice

Tragic backstory™ , used to using his body for the job

He really enjoys cooking!

Also hopelessly in love with a small soft summoner, Caelum (the one hugging him), They're RedxBlue gays

---

I think I'll leave it there for now!

I may add more later, I hope it was interesting?? and I'm still pretty shy with yelling this much about my characters haha.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far! 💜

[urfavnegronerd]

percy jackson brain-rot as i begin the books again

as someone whos hopelessly devoted to the workings of rick riordon i absolutely never understood percabeth

like,

they're literally 12, children, CANNOT LEGALLY DRIVE OR CONSENT TO SEX at the end of the og series (chalice of the gods) and niggas really out here shipping the fuck outta them

shit dig hard enough on a03 and there's prolly smut of the two of em

never understood it, like i get a cute lil mutual pining thing where they both like each other but a whole ass ship never made sense. like no, the two don't make babies. why? CUZ THEYRE BABIES THEMSELVES

edit:

okay to clear things up cs people are in the comments saying i don't know what a ship is (i'm literally a fanfic writer on here but okay)

i'm just saying that these are literally little kids in middle school. i'm not saying that middle school kids don't have relationships, but it's still weird. and from, i'm boutta geek out about this incredibly obscure topic i'm sorry, a developmental standpoint middle grade children are nowhere near psychologically ready to be in a relationship which is why it's extremely rare to see couples who have been together since middle school (that one episode of abbott elementary). if you go on tiktok and look for people who broke up with someone they were in a relationship with from middle school- high school, those breakups are traumatic

all breakups are traumatic in some way, but there have been several people who have developed traits of borderline personality disorder because they broke up with someone they had been romantically involved with since middle school.

also let's not forget how warped your view on intimate relationships go (fucking. imma say it the way you think about fucking is skewed). the people i've spoken to who broke up with their middle school partner in their older parts of high school have recounted just how awful their view on sex was, some have even pondered if they were asexual because they couldn't picture themselves up under anyone else.

like i get it, it's cute to see little kids who like each other, but most of this fandom are of age to drive, to study for the SATS/gsces, some are able to legally drink in the united states, or applying to college. these are little baby children that high school students and young adults should not be playing match maker for. ALSO WALKER SCOBELL IS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL/ HIS FIRST YEAR IN HS HE WAS BORN IN 2009.

anyway,

i get it, we all have head canons, but shipping two middle schoolers who a) may or may not have started puberty b) did not stay at one school for too long c) don't know trig formulas d) may or may not have had their first period/ voice dropped/ you get the picture.

SO

i don't understand percabeth as a whole romantic ship, but mostly as a fluffy little middle school flirty thing (prolonged eye contact, stealing hats, asking if they can hug/kiss at a certain time, etc.)

i love love love the concept of seaweed brain and wise girl, smartwater, percabeth, whatever, I THINK THEY'RE ADORABLE but i don't understand the draw of why people feel the incessant need to make it extremely romantic. like why why whyyyyyyy. can we js let them be kids, because lets be real a lot of the newer additions to this fandom only know about the show (and its okay we love you guys anyway its just that some of us have read the books too, its not required for you to love the show that you need to read the books) and are already talking about 'annabeth and percy need to just kiss already' no they don't. cs percy just lost his mom (i know something you dooonttttttt) and our cutie patootie annabeth is still lowkey a mystery (i'm guessing?? idk i haven't watched the show yet i think im gonna pirate it soon or smth, im js assuming because idk what point the show is at in relation to the first book), etc. can we maybe not make them a whole ass ship until the show is in relation to the last few books of the series. lets js let them be kids for now.

AND THIS IS NOT TO SAY THAT I DIDN'T LIKE WHEN THEY WERE AN ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP IN THE LATER BOOKS OKAY ITS NOT TO SAY THAT im just saying that i didn't understand the concept of percabeth within the first few books because it was a little wonky to really really want two twelve year olds to be in a relationship. they're cute when its in the last few books but come on yall. lets not ship them yet. also report any smut you see of them that's not cool or rick riordon approved.

theyre still babies, even if some of the fandom has read all of the books and others didn't.

does this make sense?

xoxo,

rae <3

[do-you-like-kirby-music]

Do you pick songs for the polls randomly, or do you try and single out songs that you feel may be the most divisive? (i.e. songs that are meant to feel unsettling, short loops without much going on) Or is it a mix of the two?

I want to clarify that I don't have a preference for either or anything, I really like what you're doing :>

Actually, I've sorta answered this before! but hey I like getting asked stuff so I'll expand on that a bit;

As I had said in the other ask, it's somewhat at random, though left intentionally varied per week (Personal rule (for now) of no 2 songs in a week from the same source) and I try to keep the variety going overall as well (which can be tough as some sources just have way more original music than others)

But it's not random in the sense of any generators or smth, I just manually go into my files and pull up whatever I feel like in the moment! Sometimes, I might slip in something by some kinda intent, like putting in a song i know relates to certain things, or one that I don't think anyone's even aware exists, or maybe one I just personally liker (or dislike) and see if people agree on my own leans or not!

Really it's all kinda on a whim!

On the mentioned-in-other-post factor of some being very much intentionally chosen, that's more like "planned ahead"; i.e (without revealing WHAT it is even though ithink most know) track 50 was selected for the 50th song mark because I wanted to make that notable since. yo 50 songs!

And I've got a few other silli lil plans too, some falling on peculiar days or weeks or numbers, some just "I will do this specific setup Sometime bc it would be funny". I'll spoil that there's one I'll drop at some unknown time im personally referring to as "suck week" because. I'm sure somehow the votes will still skew to yes on them but i can assure i'd be voting no on every single one for that lmao.

ALL OF THAT SAID I am actually intentionally avoiding putting in certain songs too soon or close to eachother, since they are ones I'd see as big-deal songs and I'd like to have them scattered for funsies. Never know when you'll be listenin through a buncha misc tunes and get slammed by Crowned!

[cat-buried-in-tall-grass]

ALRIGHT. SPILL EVERYTHING SILVER. I NEED TO KNOWWWWW (and if he has a masterpost that i just. failed to see. link me that right meow)

what agent number is he !! what does he look like !! does he have proper kitty features (other than his REALLY swag claws) !! how tall is he !! is he a radiant ? (if so what are his abilities !!!) whats his overall ~vibe~

omg..... i think he wld get along with pua SO WELL. HE AND NEON AND PUA THE ULTIMATE TRIO !!!! i wonder if he wld get along with shizuka and poeiva too 👀👀 (shizuka being grimshaw's assistant/apprentice and poeiva being chamber's partner and buddies with fade)

i think this may be one of the first times our ocs have directly interacted SO I AM SOOOOO STOKED AND I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABT HIM SO THEY CAN BE FRIENDSSSSS (sorry for all the questions 😭😭)

ASNLKDJFCB OKAY,,,,,,,, no masterpost yet cause i'm Shy:tm: and not everything is fully set in stone yet

agent number is 31, which in numerology is asociated with originality and practicality. it can still change tho i'm. unsure. appearance wise he uh. i'm putting this utc don't wanna make it too long on the dash

his ears are PUNCHED w metal, both of em. his eyes are (nowadays) yellowish orange, and glow proper orange when using his abilities. color pallete is sth along these lines, and the most distinctive aspect of his outfit beyond his big fuckoff metal claws is that he wears a (somewhat cropped) hoodie that's oversized and a lil puffed up to cover up the wiring and metal strapped to him underneath it, which he uses to charge up his claws.

he doesn't have kitty features i'm afraid but he DOES have a kitty ears hoodie. it's his warmest, comfiest hoodie. his bestest hoodie. at heart he's a lynx. he's 179cm/5'8'' tall, and he IS a radiant, through prolonged exposure to radianite. radiation. lol. bit more lore of that can be found on this unfinished lore fic omg don't look at me.

his ability is metallokinesis, he controls all kinds of metal, but it's not exactly metalbending.

the "emp thing" is what's for now his ult. he digs his claws into one of his bombs while they're charged with electricity and throws it ahead to clear an area of traps and stuff. DON'T ASK ABT ANYTHING ELSE THO I NEED TO STUDY A LIL MORE TO MAKE THAT,,,,,,,

PERSONALITY. silver's like a cat in the sense that if he likes you he's really chill and nice and charismatic. and if he dislikes you he's probably two shitty comments away from slashing your throat. BIG hatred for corpos and authority thanks to his bg, really big on Justice and Retribuition, but it's skewed by his own personal experiences and attachments. the line between justice and revenge gets blurred. but when he's chill he's SO chill. literally a buddy. loves metalworking and general crafts, he made his claws and bombs out of literal scrap. big fan of card and tabletop games. has a soft spot for kids. loves himself someone who can match his vibe.

he's adopting shizuka as a SISTER tyvm, you got my back and i got yours kinda deal, a lil bickering but if anything happens to her he's jumping out and biting. poeiva. well. anyone who associates w chamber closely is on The Shitlist i'm afraid. buddies w fade tho? that means straight up "hm" territory

god that's a lot of stuff BUT HE'S SOOOOOO WILLING TO BE BUDDIES,,,,,,, I WANT THEM TO BE FRIENDS 🥺 LET THEM INTERACT....... HOLDING HIM UP TO YOU. HE'S J A SILLY LIL GUY WHO WANTS TO DO ARTS AND CRAFTS.

[jennycalendar]

jenny/ethan?

(also, jenny/giles/ethan, but i am currently quietly going feral about jenny/ethan as i try to work out my massive AU project that may never be finished, so. i want to hear your thoughts on both because these are my favorite rare ships in this fandom.)

SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS. most of them spill over into my own personal complicated emotions about/writing ideas for this notion. not sure if this qualifies as a "brutally honest opinion" or if it's just word vomit but Oh Well. Can't Help It. Jenny And Ethan Create Feelings.

ok so like. jenny and ethan are my two favorite guys. ethan, however, is much more.... how do i put this? fic remembers that he's a human person. there is a solid subsection of calendiles fic that really just treats jenny as a lipsticked paper doll that makes giles happy, but when ethan is in fic, there's almost always this detailed, thoughtful portrayal of what's going on in his head and how he as an individual relates to giles, despite jenny being in more episodes than him. (it's the misogyny. and i hate it.) so i don't spend a lot of time writing ethan because, like, ethan is fine! he does not need my help! and if i wanna read gorgeous fic about ethan i can find it without scrounging! finding fic for jenny that goes into that kind of thought and detail is a little tougher.

so that is an important backdrop re: my very complicated feelings every time i think about jenny and ethan at the same time! but another component is this: i fucking love jenny and ethan. both of them as individuals say so much about giles (i.e. that he likes women who can throw him around and men who he can throw around) and both of them are SO smart and terrifying!!! i do have Opinions re: jenny perceiving giles as a complete individual vs. ethan's fixation with Turning Giles Back Into Ripper, but 1) that's another thing entirely and 2) i think that a timeline where jenny/ethan could happen is a timeline where ethan is so much more emotionally mature. so i shall leave it as a footnote and move along.

ANYWAY. i didn't realize this until i started writing this all up, but part of the reason i've never written anything for jenny/ethan is because of that aforementioned misogyny in the way fandom reads ethan vs. jenny. i have always been a little nervous that exploring jenny/ethan means i am a hop, skip, & a jump away from that corner of fandom full of giles stans who violently despise jenny, and every time i entertain the notion my brain is like "but celia, then you're spending time thinking about ethan, and everyone has done that to death. the dearth of jenny fic that explores and appreciates her as an individual even within her relationship with giles is so much more pressing a concern to you!!" and then i put that box down and go back to another jenny fic, because that makes me less sad.

but i do love jenny/ethan as a concept!!! a lot!!! despite my reticence to explore it in fic! i think so much of it is just -- i have been worried about writing smth and having to deal with chilly reception + disinterest from people who like ethan and don't like jenny. the dislike of jenny has waned in recent years (iiiiiiii have suspicions about why this is but they sound HORRIBLY arrogant so i will try to keep my head normal sized) but i am still a lil squirrelly about it because.

third reason and most important reason.

jenny/ethan would FUCKING SLAP. and i want it too much to be objective about it.

like, first of all, jenny and ethan connecting in the wake of giles's death is smth i have thought about so many times and in so many different ways. usually i tend to have it skew platonic/ambiguous simply because i think i like the idea of them having this Unexplainable Tragedy Bond after being impacted by this man for such a strange short moment (and also because, in my head, i often just see ethan as gay, because i think that creates a lot of interesting tension in the Bisexuality Metaphor that is the normative vs. non-normative internal conflict within giles + ethan's insistence that the non-normative is the Only Real Answer) but the fact remains that the connection is there!

i have thought a lot about ethan teaching jenny about chaos magic as a brand of magic that's accessible to her/makes sense to her, and i do think that he'd be deeply fascinated by her interest in computers for, hilariously, the exact same reason giles hates them, which would piss her off to the extreme. (he LOVES the "soulless numbers-running automaton" aspect of it all because there are SO MANY WAYS TO MAKE EVERYTHING BREAK. and now he gets to figure out NEW WAYS TO BREAK THINGS. this is GREAT. he is NOT listening to jenny's furious tirades re: how computers aren't soulless. he's going to bring down the mainframe.)

i also think that ethan and jenny would verbally spar in a way that would actually terrify giles. like, both of them are often much quicker than him (it's why he likes them!) and so against EACH OTHER??? TERRIFYING. but jenny would win, because jenny absolutely always wins, and i think she would take it as a BIG win when she manages to actually trip up ethan and get him flustered. she is probably the only person in the world who could manage to do that. (except for nora but i'm not legally allowed to say anything about what may or may not happen in future installments of potential fics.)

i can truly never decide whether i like ethan + jenny as friends or ethan/jenny in a way that skews romantic, tho, bc like i said, i like the notion of ethan as not attracted to women! creates a lot of interesting messiness about his insistence that giles needs to return to him to be truly happy, his determination that giles is living a lie, etc, and i love the level of misunderstanding and limited perspective that that adds to giles/ethan's relationship. BUT i also love ethan in general and i think ethan/jenny could be so fun? and also so unexpectedly tender?? jenny is exactly the kind of unhinged academic that ethan is a sucker for, and i do really love the idea of these two people who make GILES look emotionally vulnerable finding a way to let their guard down around each other. both of them are little wet cats trying to make themselves look big, after all.

mostly i am just like. i want this in a way that goes beyond logic to the point where i never talk about it on main because it feels TOO self-indulgent to justify & Cite My Sources About, especially when i have these pre-existing headcanons for ethan that would conflict with jenny/ethan's existence! but at the same time it would be SO FUN, and also the level of charged tender romance that jenny and ethan could manufacture as two people with BIG hearts who are DESPERATELY trying to hide that level of love.... like, WHOA.

jenny/giles/ethan is obvs elite tier, in any configuration, whether or not it involves jenny/ethan. giles has two hands. i don't have much else to say about that one bc i think we all know it's the best thing in the world.

(and also please please please tell me more about your massive au project that involves jenny/ethan. i will definitely give you an insider scoop on some secret fic in exchange....)

[callmelexy]

Oh... It's a sense of self

First of all... What is a "sense of self"?

According to google, a sense of self refers to your perception of the collection of characteristics that define you. Personality traits, abilities, likes and dislikes, your belief system or moral code, and the things that motivate you — these all contribute to self-image or your unique identity as a person.

After watching Inside Out 2 today, I realised that the sense of self we have skews our perception and determines our actions.

Let's say I dropped my cup of coffee today...

If I had a negative sense of self, I'd probaby say "F*ck, i'm so dumb for dropping that coffee cup". If I had a positive sense of self, I'd probaby say "Oh no, my coffee! It's ok. Sometimes it's just a bad day."

The development of our sense of self begins at a young age, I believe. Weaving together from our childhood until now. As I sat through the movie and saw Riley with her multiple emotions, I realised a strong sense of self is good but it is also malleable. I once suffered from very deep negative self talk. On the outside, I pride myself as a go-getter, a problem solver but the source of that pride came from a terrible fear of failure. I'd rather not take on a project or request than to fail and dissapoint those around me. With therapy and keeping a more open mind, I realised my sense of self altered from drawing motivation from "I need to prove i'm good enough" to "I may not be the best, but I will try my best".

As my sense of self improved, I realise the lens of my looking of others changed too. I was less skeptical of others' intentions, more into giving people chances, more genuine with my interactions and definitely, more trusting of my own intuition.

Yesterday, I had dinner with two friends, J and Q. As per our usual meet up, we talked about life, love, career and everything in between. J went on about how her work predicament included not being able to small talk or "play the game" to win brownie points with her boss. What really struck a chord with me was her saying "Alex, you know how to play the game and I wish I knew how to." For some reason, part of me felt anger. I felt accused, shamed and embarrassed. I tried to take pride in it, tried to cover with something like "oh ya, playing the game is fun" but i knew those were not honest words. And for that, J & Q, I'm sorry.

It was a fun meet up, no doubt. But I came home emotionally uneasy, as if something was about to bubble up. I thought... Maybe it was because of my unhappiness with my boss / the current company system, but today, I realised I was unhappy because a part of my sense of self was derived from being liked. And that desperation of being liked was derived from a terrible fear that I would be iced out the way I was way back in my childhood / school days.

If we're being completely honest, a part of my anger for my boss also stems from "it takes one to know one." Playing the game, as part of my sense of self, made me a "lalang" type of person too. And maybe it took J to say it to my face, for me to detach myself from the narrative I created so long ago. Genuinely, thank you, J.

J, Q, you and I will be facing many changes to come, as how life is. And that sense of self is very important to ensure we stick our core values and positive belief systems. But when we encounter a negative belief system, like how I did today, I've learnt to mentally give it a hug and say "it's ok, you can go now."

To that lil girl who was ignored by her family and not included by her peers in school, I hope you know that you're actually a very likeable girl. You just hadn't met the right friends yet. You've learnt how to morph into multiple characters to survive the social world, but rest assured, you can let your guard down. You can be you. & that really is enough. You can start to let go of the bitterness and anger. You do not need to play games or win points to get ahead anymore. You can take a break, knowing that genuine connections will draw themselves to you and you to them as you choose to be as genuine as possible. & if you do get hurt or taken advantage of, learn to be a bit more wary but never lose the spark the people closest to you love.

And to all my gentle readers...

I hope you slowly let go of the fear, anger or negative self talk. I hope you give it a mental hug when it bubbles up and let him / her know that yes, it does suck to get hurt but it is much too painful to continue on with life from deep wounds. Let the wound close up, heal and develop into a scar. A scar that reminds you that it does get better and that you are worthy of love, acceptance, joy and all those good things we crave.

This post is for J & Q. Thank you for allowing me the space to be myself thoughout our friendship. Thank you for providing honesty and openness. I love you girls very much.

[tiffanylamps]

🔥🔥🔥🔥 of course, some beyond evil hot takes 🔥🔥🔥🔥 but also, what is some controversial opinion that you have about something entirely mundane :^0

ask me ask me ask me baby (Disclaimer: I started writing this, then had dinner, watched an episode of Bros on Foot, then had a shower and now I'm pretty exhausted (thanks rona + bad health). So my answers may seem a lil disorganised... they most likely are) Oh, gosh. I don't think I have that many opinions that are actually controversial when discussing be. But I shall still give it a go. I going to put a break here 'cause I really didn't know when to shut up. Also, sorry Iva but I feel like my answers are things we've already spoken about. So, I don't think any of this is new information to you 😩 TL;DR: Dong Sik and Joo Won shouldn't be represented by one aspect of their character. They're more complicated than that. (Including a mundane opinion at the end) (please excuse any weird funny business in this post (writing, grammar, spelling, clarity), we're trying our best here at Lamps HQ)

i. We as a fandom baby Dong Sik too much. I love Dong Sik. I adore him. He has seen and experienced far too many traumas, and I want nothing but good things for him in his future. What happened to him and his family when he was 20 was a tragedy that could have been avoided if the system (which should be in place to aid victims) wasn't systemically corrupt. He was beaten by police officers whilst in custody. He was framed and belittled, degraded, and humiliated. (the trauma he experienced is so layered and would take a lifetime for him to unpack and get closure from).

It almost completely ruined his life and future prospects, and it would have been done if Nam Sang Bae hadn't come in with his lvl 100 guilt and tried to make up for his actions. Dong Sik tried to make the best out of the awful circumstances that befell him and I sincerely admire him. Not everyone is as kind and loving as Dong Sik.... But but but... Buuuuut that doesn't absolve him of his actions. He murdered someone with his bare hands and allowed the system that was once put against him to be used in his favour.

Police officers shouldn't be murdering civilians. full stop. Yes, he was emotionally compromised- technically it could be seen as self-defence, but an unconvicted man, a suspect, was murdered and Dong Sik didn't face repercussions. Nam Sang Bae skewed the evidence so Dong Sik didn't get into trouble. Dong Sik took a year (?) off work after that event and to "help" him recover, Sang Bae got Dong Sik transferred to his substation (which Sang Bae had been demoted to as a result of one of his rookies dying on the job. Although, it wasn't deemed much of a punishment considering he was so close to retiring anyway). All the while, Dong Sik feels justified for his actions (as he did when he moved Min Jeong's fingers). (Screenshots from the translated script book/author's notes doc)

I think it's best that when discussing and exploring Dong Sik's character, we remember that he is a man capable of murder. He is a murderer. (Do I blame him for what he did? No, not really. I can see why he did it. Objectively, I fucking love it for the narrative lol). But yeah, he isn't a guiltless sweet baby angel who never did anything wrong in his life. (DISCLAIMER: obviously jokes are just jokes. I love them and I never want them to stop. I am super guilty of participating in this line of joking and I'm not about to stop any time soon. But when discussing DS in serious conversations, we shouldn't erase his history. By doing that, we are devoiding him of agency and retribution (which is one of the main arcs/themes of his character development)).

ii. Joo Won is autistic and people need to stop calling him stupid. I will die on this hill, I don't care. I fully encourage everyone to bully Joo Won, because, well, he fucking deserves it. I know that bullying him is a hilarious love language the fandom has developed and I fully participate in this pastime. I honestly love it. Yes, he has done a lot wrong and shouldn't be absolved of his sins (that being said, we should allow him the space to learn and grow. We should learn to forgive whilst still keeping him and ourselves in check). But where I draw the line is when people outright laugh at his characteristics/actions which are derived from the fact that Joo Won is coded as autistic.

I know not everyone is going to be particularly versed in neurodivergent symptoms and that is completely fine. I even didn't fully clock Joo Won being autistic the first time I watched the show- I "labelled" his actions as a result of one) his obscenely privileged upbringing and two) the fact that he (imo) has some degree of OCD (which is a type of anxiety disorder). Then it hit me one day that he is soooo autistic. A few examples (I'm too ill to list each one or go into full detail): 1- People say that he's a bad detective. Which, ugh. 2- That he should have seen the "obvious" signs that Dong Sik wasn't the killer earlier. This sentiment completely ignores the timeline of the show and the fact that the viewer is provided information that Joo Won doesn't have access to. And it also removes Dong Sik's accountability for being purposely obtuse and antagonistic. 3- the whole (very minor) narrative that joo won is lame because he has terrible people skills (or something along those lines, I can't quite remember the tags I read as it was a while ago). This one, in particular, ties in with Joo Won's autism coding. With a (relatively sound) understanding of what autism looks like in male adults, to me, it would seem that a lot of what Joo Won does (speaking bluntly, getting easily confused when provided a lot of information during an intense situation, overwhelm, struggling to gauge people's emotions/tone, being very black and white, hyper focussing on a topic of interest, struggling to adapt to new social environments, masking, issues with food and sensory stimulation, etc) can be credited to autism. Perhaps I'm connecting dots that don't exist and am projecting an ideal onto his character, but as someone who grew up with multiple friends and family members who are neurodiverse (and is neurodiverse myself), I can see so many similarities between Joo Won's actions, thought processes, and mannerisms to that of a person with autism.

^ (credit) here is an overview of some characteristics of autism in adults (obviously, it's a complex topic which differs from person to person. But I can definitely connect many of these examples to joo won's character and actions). [I feel like I could say a lot more about this subject, but it would be distracting away from the original point. I have thoughts on Joo Won masking and how he struggles to mask around Dong Sik]

How does this relate to Joo Won being "stupid"? One may ask. I will try to explain it as best I can (even though I don't fully have my answer planned out). Labelling Joo Won as stupid, as a stuck-up nepo baby who did nothing for the storyline, or just a useless dolt that needed Dong Sik to spoon-feed him, completely misconstrues the source material. Joo Won is intelligent, hard-working, determined, stubborn, foolish, annoying, pompous, proud, narrow-minded, snobby, short-sighted, dedicated, loyal, loving, persistent, and perceptible to change (and even more than that). We wouldn't have a story if Joo Won was stupid. We wouldn't have a conclusion if Joo Won was stupid. Downplaying Joo Won's intelligence and chalking up his characteristics as something that makes him less-than does a complete disservice to his character as well as his importance within the story. Beyond Evil is a story with TWO leads. It's not the Dong Sik show. I can NEVER subscribe to the act of bringing one character down in order to hold another up. Dong Sik is not this all-seeing, all-knowing, flawless character. If he was, he would have never been framed for murder, he wouldn't have been stuck for 20 years, and he wouldn't have needed help in uncovering the truth. He needed Joo Won (and Ji Hwa, Jae Yi, Jung Je, Ji Hoon, Du Soo, Sang Bae, etc). Without Joo Won, he may have never found out the full truth of what happened to his sister (as how many people in his life had a part to play in the traumas he faced). So, I think it's about time that people start to recognise Joo Won as a neurodivergent character (and stop giving him a hard time for not seeing signs that WE were given), as well as stop downplaying him. Kim Soo Jin, Sim Na Yeon, and Yeo Jin Goo created such a multi-dimensional, complex, flawed character with good and bad qualities, it does a disservice to their creativity and hard work when one belittles Joo Won down to one descriptor. Dong Sik and Joo Won aren't just the idiot and the downtrodden. They're more than that and fan interpretation shouldn't rewrite the facts of the show.

Anyway... there's a point in there somewhere... I think... I have no idea if I managed to construct a reply that makes sense. I don't think I fully relayed all my thoughts on this particular matter, but we live. tbh, I feel very icky when an autistic character gets labelled as stupid or useless. It gets on my nerves and if it wasn't obvious, I am pretty protective of Joo Won (maybe I shouldn't be, but... well... here we are!). Also, as a note: I don't expect anyone to agree with my opinion that Joo Won is autistic. But yeah, I was going to include more "controversial" opinions for be, but I have already said way too much. This post reads like a rant - which it probably is - and I don't want it to ruffle anyone's feathers. It's not an attack, it's just my opinion.

As for the mundane opinion: iii. kiwis are the scum of the fruit world. They're nasty and a lot of effort to eat (considering they don't taste great), and their texture is gross. But I do think their furry shell is pretty neat, even if it makes my skin cruel. (idk why this was the first thing that came to mind lol)

(sorry Iva. Maybe one day I will learn how to give short answers😂🫣)

[thedarkmistress16]

Hetalia x Fem!Pronouns!Reader- (Literally) Dropped Into Anime

Found the last APH thing I wrote about (years ago) and since I threw myself full-force back into the fandom again, I expanded this overdone concept for fun. And I was so happy with the writing style that I made myself write up to (at least) 5k words before posting this chap as a neat lil' personal challenge. Otherwise, I would've had this up a few days ago because holy shit I originally completed this part in two days??!?!!!?

Anyway, fem!pros here because that's how I roll with male characters x reader things, so substitute away~! Reader's life is kept vague on purpose but that may change in the future, and nothing about personal appearance is mentioned here. And reader swears because reader is an adult and is tired.

Chapter 1- Okay, So, I’m Here Now…

You were at home, content that you had a few days off to your name and a stomach filled with a delicious breakfast. Today, you would put yourself up to the task of completing work you had put off for quite a while. No social calls allowed! You had that luxury last week. This time, it was going to be all about what you will accomplish for the next few days. You happily rolled up your sleeves- figuratively, of course, it was summer after all- and got to work.

You got around to completing half of the first job’s workload until you suddenly felt an extreme bout of tiredness hit you.

You tried to fight it off, desiring to get back to what you were initially doing, determined to actually follow through on your own promise to yourself this time. You were an adult after all, with loads of different responsibilities that were all waiting to be finished when you clocked out each day. It was just depressing how many things you had to take care of now, compared to when you were a carefree adolescent who, ironically, only had to worry about growing up.

The supplies you were just using with ease completely fell out of your hands as your shoulders slumped. You started to walk out of the room to find an energy supplement.

Sometimes you wondered how you even had a lick of time for yourself anymore.

A weak groan escaped your lips, and your hand rose to your forehead to massage the irritating thumping that began blossoming there. Okay, maybe you needed to pop some aspirin, too.

Life really sucked sometimes.

Did you overwork yourself again?

Your pace slowed to a sluggish shuffle.

Did you remember to stock your groceries this week?

Fuck the drink, you were way too tired now for it to even take effect. Your feet pivoted in another direction, feeling yourself start to surrender to your own body’s wills.

Still, who were you to complain?

How were you so careless to do this to yourself again?

You struggled to keep your balance as you reached the doorway of your bedroom. You don’t remember being so tired you could barely walk.

You had a job, buddies, a family, your own place… you were doing good for yourself! 

You should’ve just gone out with your friends or treated yourself today. Why did you have to go and spoil it with work? Now you can’t even function properly and the whole day will be skewed now.

Your eyes caught the proximity of your bed and they immediately drooped, almost closing completely on you and your head bobbed dangerously.

Others had it worse than you… probably…

You really suck at taking care of yourself, huh?

And despite your best efforts to fight off the looming cloud of exhaustion that was trying to overtake you, flopping onto your bed and crashing into a dreamless state of mind became entirely inevitable. You vaguely feel yourself free-falling through your mattress before losing consciousness completely.

When you were on the verge of waking up, you heard muffled voices buzzing over your head, all a jumbled mess and becoming way too damn noisy as the seconds ticked by. You cringed at the uptick in loudness and made a sound between a moan and groan in a displeased protest. Your body reflexively turned away from the disturbance to your sleep, rolling over to turn your back to that side. Only you felt hardness on your body where you suddenly remembered that’s where your soft bed was supposed to be. You sat up with your eyes still closed, mumbling to yourself at how you probably fell off the bed again, silly, and thought it none the wiser. And you yawned yourself awake- stretching your arms upward as the sound moved past your throat and dropping them when you felt content.

It took a second for you to open your eyes and really see what you were actually looking at, but when you did, you froze in place. You cautiously moved your head around in different directions to find that all of the characters of a certain anime you once watched were staring right at you in utter silence- and you realized that you were in the conference room of the United Nations, sitting smack-dab on their table in the middle of their meeting.

While everyone was shocked into silence as you finally woke, a sole clearing of a throat could be heard down on your right. You all turned to see the character known as Germany straightening himself, shifting his posture in the chair he sat in. In doing so he gave away how uncomfortable he clearly felt, and turned to you. His eyes, while ice cold in color, held no hatred or disdain- but rather a strong curiosity, from what you could detect.

“I’m sure everyone’s wondering this, but, who are you?”

You never liked this question exactly; not whoever said it, particularly, but you never really knew how to answer it. How much information are you supposed to give? What were they looking to hear?

Never mind that this was the English dub of Hetalia you were currently in, apparently- how were you going to describe yourself to these people when you were still trying to figure it all out for yourself? Not to mention getting around to explaining how you even got here?

You didn’t notice that throughout your thinking session, you had been staring blankly at the German and letting out a very unattractive “uhhhhhhhhhh…” for god knows how long.

Someone’s fingers snapped in front of your face while a voice shouted at you irritably. “Hey- you! Ragazza! Speak, dammnit!”

“Uh?!” The sudden outburst from the brunette shattered your thoughts so badly that you yelped and fell back onto the table. You blinked wildly as your heart pumped harder from the adrenaline, feeling more shocked and startled than before. Your eyes struggled to refocus from the blind-sighting motion.

If you weren’t awake before, you definitely were now.

“Were you even paying attention?!” the same voice chided.

Really?!

Oh, like he wouldn’t be just as dumbstruck as you if he was in your shoes.

You had half a mind to-

Before you could muster a response that your brain was itching to let you unleash, another similar, accented male voice piped up. “Ah, fratello! Be nice to her! The poor bella doesn’t know where she is!”

You were still breathing heavily as you were slowly pulled up from laying down on the table, now with your legs loosely tucked beneath you as you shuffled with the movement. You now found yourself leaning toward one side as your shoulders were embraced by a certain Italian who smelled like an assortment of spices, but mainly oregano. You were too ashamed at your earlier display to even entertain a look- even if you had only watched one episode of the series in your life, you knew who he was.

 “Wow, you’re really pretty! I’ll call you bella!” He squished you even tighter and you flailed on instinct as your balance had faltered when he pulled you closer. You weren’t sure if you wanted to melt into a puddle due to your own embarrassment or from his expressive adorableness. And while you weren’t stellar at the implications of him considering you as a pet, you really couldn’t find it inside yourself to be mad at him for it.

Despite all this, and being treated kindly by one of the anime’s protagonists out of all the nations in the room, you still felt uncomfortable being hugged by a Hetalia character that shouldn’t even exist. It was unnatural to even feel him, let alone have him talking to you directly.

You almost felt as if you were breaking a law of some sort.

Speaking of, you were hyperaware of the stares you were still getting around the whole table, and they weren’t helping matters, either.

“Uh, that’s not my name…” you start awkwardly, suddenly not sure how to talk to him. You chanced a peek at his face then, catching a glimpse of that iconic strand of hair curling away from his head.

“Oh?” Italy slackened his grip to tilt his head and look at you. “What's your name?”

Whether he actually had his eyes opened or not as he addressed you, you felt flustered for a reason you couldn’t explain and looked down again. “_. My name is _.”

“Ve~! That’s such a pretty name, _!”

Classic Italy.

You softly laughed with a blush at his behavior feeling a little lighter at his genuine fondness. You began trying to wiggle out of his tight grip a bit, partly from being watched so intently by the others and partly because you needed some space to breathe and not think about Northern Italy’s touch.

You failed, but hey, it was the thought that counts.

“_? Where did you come from?”

Your soft smile from Italy’s attitude died with the question that was spoken somewhere behind you, which you correlated to China. You didn’t care enough to look, as more of the reality of your current predicament carelessly unraveled itself in your head.

What the hell were you supposed to say? That you were from a world where everything that was currently happening wasn’t real?

Or what if it was fact and you’ve never known that these characters were walking on the very streets you walk on for your entire life? Did you cross paths with them without yourself knowing?

Was this a vital secret that could endanger your very existence if you told?

Were you even in your world anymore? How many things that you’ve lived your entire life by have altered or ceased to exist here?

“I wish I knew,” you absentmindedly whispered, eyes roving over the individual grains which made up the table you were kneeling upon. If you squinted, you could barely pinpoint your blurry reflection contrasted with the muddy blue form of Italy’s uniform on the glossy finish.

Your mind had blanked then; afraid of the future and all its possibilities.

What was the use of marveling at fiction coming to life and being a part of that experience when you had no idea what would become of you here?

And how would these personifications actually treat you? Would they be as the canon depicted? They seemed to act like it so far, but how could you really tell if it was a facade unless you knew them more? On top of that, would you even be accepted?

Did you even exist at all as another version of yourself? Did you end up switching with that person?

How did you end up here in the first place? What triggered this?

…

Could you even go back?

England, who was seated a little ways from you on the opposite side of the table, inspected your slouched form intently. Italy had rephrased the earlier question China posed, in a softer tone laced with worry and apprehension. He nudged you lightly as he still held you, treating you as if you were now made of something fragile. You had heard him but did not visibly react. You were still too lost in your own head to focus on your surroundings.

The British nation spoke up in an expressionless fashion, his chin resting in his hand as his fingers tapped rhythmically upon the table. “No. She doesn’t have any magical properties, but I know for sure that she isn’t from this world…” He sensed his magical friends hovering next to him with curious looks, turning their heads back and forth between the two of you as if willing the answer to suddenly appear before them.

The other nations moved their focus to England, spouting their own opinions that quickly overlapped into a loud discussion and lessened the attention on you. You perked up at Englishman’s words, about to say something, but the vowels fizzled out on your tongue with an ashy aftertaste that had you grimacing.

It was true, of course. But you had no idea if he meant it as a good or bad thing, and whether that knowledge would cause the nations would take pity on you or keep you under constant scrutiny was uncertain. And that apprehension won over any potential excitement felt from the opportunity of interacting with the countries.

At least, more than necessary, that is.

“If that’s true, England, then we should decide where _ is going to stay for the time being,” Germany declares, cutting through the murmuring. He met your eyes briefly before surveying the rest of the room. “Any suggestions?”

“She will become one with me, da?”

Everyone shivered in unison and you actually felt the temperature in the room change drastically. You willed yourself to look in the direction of the nation, even as your instincts screamed at you to do anything else but that.

“Um, I think we should hear what other countries have to say first, Russia.” A meek, European voice toward the Russian’s left replied, vibrating so badly that you wondered if he would explode on the spot if he was touched ever so slightly.

Russia was expressionless for a moment, seemingly glaring at the opposer, before facing the others again with a pleased smile and responding ominously.

“Very well. I’m patient.”

You couldn’t suppress the shiver if you tried.

The awkwardness in the air heavily permeated the room until another nation broke it.

“Well, what about me?”

And then a chorus of every opinion under the sun reached your ears like an uproar at a concert. A lot of the same phrases, colorful insults, and familiar names looped occasionally past your ears, not unlike a skipping record with some deep scratches that were beyond fixing yet still in a state playable enough to justify keeping it.

It felt… odd, to refer to them as their names, you realize. Even in the safety of your own thoughts, it was too personal. You cringe at yourself, feeling very out of place, as you kept picking up tidbits of the bickering around you.

“Italy! Let her breathe and get down from the table!” Germany chastised, contributing to the other voices and making Italy plead like a petulant child. Upon Germany’s intense insistence, which consisted of raising his voice to an aggravated shout, Italy quickly relented in fear, quaking in his boots.

Though you weren't sure if he caught it, you sent the Italian an apologetic smile as he dejectedly detangled his arms from you and clambered off the shiny wood surface. You almost thank Germany for pulling you out of the spiraling thoughts you started to have again, before stopping yourself. You let out a breath and closed your eyes, taking a moment to calm yourself as overlapping accents from all kinds of lands buzzed around you.

Feeling more refreshed, you brace yourself for any future animated shenanigans before focusing back on the world around you. When you opened your eyes, a palm shoots forward right in front of you, stopping inches away from your body. As your eyes trailed forward and up the protruding arm, you quickly pieced together that it belonged to the Italian who was shouting at you earlier. He was now looking red in the face, refusing to meet your gaze yet flickering his eyes to you every so often as he addressed you.

“Well, ragazza? What are you waiting for?” His tone was still harsh-sounding, but softer now with how he was grumbling his words.

Right. He was offering his assistance in getting you down from the table.

You took his hand gently, moving to sit in an empty chair right next to him. After settling yourself, you turned to Romano to find him peering at you from his peripherals. You smiled at him gratefully, the appreciative words flowing easily past your tongue. “Thank you, sir.”

He somehow turned redder, sputtering like a faucet, as if indecisive on what to say before finally settling on, “prego, dolcezza.”

You had no idea what that meant exactly but felt happy all the same at his attitude toward you now. If this was his way of apologizing for scaring you earlier, he was doing a great job of it so far.

Well, for him, that is.

Among the uproar of conversation around you, the Italian spoke up again.

“Call me Romano, ragazza. Si?” He seemed to add this as an afterthought and didn’t look at you as he did so.

You were surprised he chose to introduce himself to you at all, blinking at him before expressing your happiness at his permission to use his name. Though it wasn’t his real one, it was still progress. “Grazie, Romano, please call me _, then,” you softly respond with the minimal amount of Italian you knew from fans' contributions, hoping the slight accent you put on it wasn’t choppy and unpracticed as it actually was.

Thank you Hetalia fandom!

He mimics your expression as he whips his head around, his long curl bobbing and swaying with the motion. He likely didn’t expect you to respond in his language, you conclude as you stare at his persistent curl. He sharply turns away and grumbles incoherently. You softly giggle to yourself so as to not offend him in case he heard you. You didn’t remember his tsundere side to be so adorable.

“... _ will not be staying with them. Who else?” Germany announced, and you were quickly tuned back into the current conversation.

You had no idea why your appearance became a discussion of which country you would be staying with at a world meeting so fast, especially without trying to get to know you first, but you were grateful enough to not complain about it. Figuring out a place to stay now eliminated most of the stress from your situation. It would also give you some mental and physical space to breathe from the other nations, and allow you time to decide on your next course of action.

“Well obviously,�� England declared, shifting in his seat and crossing his arms haughtily, “she will be staying with me. I clearly know more about her situation than you lot.”

Okay... that was, presumptuous of him…

And while that smug look he sported was attractive in his own way, you were hesitant on sharing a home with someone who thought so highly of himself. You weren’t looking to be demeaned just for something out of your control, like being unknowledgeable in magic or something.

There was a collective beat of silence, and then one soul announced his thoughts. “She’s not eating your food,” the person deadpanned. The others silently nodded in a strange sense of unity.

Even though you didn’t say anything, you definitely agreed with that sentiment. You didn’t mean to judge him from the creator’s blatant stereotyping, but that was the bread and butter of the series, which meant England’s food would pose a real risk to your health if you dared to try it here.

And you felt a twinge of guilt toward the Brit at the thought, knowing it was a sore subject for him from the constant ridicule he got on it. That was until you heard his rebuttal.

“I’ll have you know that British cuisine is eons ahead of what you gits call ‘food.’ You lot are just unappreciative, uncultured-”

Okay, just because he’s objectively outnumbered doesn’t mean he needs to insult-

“So England’s out and he doesn’t get a vote. Who else has recommendations?” Germany resolutely cut through England’s sentence and your thoughts with a tired sigh, and you got the sense he wanted all this to be over already.

Wait. Did your appearance extend the time of their meeting?

…

Whoops.

Out of the corner of your eye, you amusedly watched England’s expression morph from cockiness into flabbergasted offense, before switching to mock indifference. He huffed and turned his head away. You thought he was also muttering something, likely a few choice words a gentleman probably shouldn’t say, before you stopped analyzing him in case you were caught staring.

Though their options were more limited now, it seemed the nations were at a loss of who to elect next, as there was a long stretch of silence that stretched throughout the room after quickly denominating England.

You almost forgot how savage they could all be when they tried…

“Since our guest won’t be staying in the hideous country of Britain, she is more than welcome to stay with me in the beautiful city of Paris!” A male clad in purple and red spoke up with a dramatic swish of his head, flaunting his long, blond hair as he winked at you.

The response was immediate.

“There’s no bloody way she’s staying with you, frog! Knowing you, you’ll try to pull something disgraceful on her, and I won’t allow it!”

You stiffened a bit and blinked at the loudness in England’s tone, surprised at how quick he was to be angry at France’s suggestion.

England hating France was a given, but…

Was he trying to defend your honor or was he that hurt at being shot down by the others?

No one else had volunteered to speak up despite them collectively deciding England had no say anymore, and let the argument between the two nations play out like two actors on stage.

 France pouted at England’s outburst. “Seriously Angleterre,” England bristled at the nickname, “you really think so lowly of me? I thought we were friends, non?”

The Brit thinned his lips in disapproval before responding lowly. “Being allies doesn’t make us friends, you bugger. I’m only saying that there are far more superior lands for her to occupy than your poor excuse for a ‘classy’ city.”

France, while clearly agitated by the underhanded insult, then smoothed his expression elegantly before he specifically turned to you with a smile, his eyes roving over what he could see of your form. It was then you realized he has been the first to do so since this conversation about your living situation started- not counting Germany, as he didn’t throw his territory into the mix.

“Well, since my beautiful homeland is being unjustly slandered by a classless fiend who thinks drab colors are fashionable,” he paused to sharply glare at England, who exhaled indignantly, before turning back to you with a warm expression. “Would you like to stay with my dear Canada, mon amie?”

Wow.

That… was perfect, actually.

Holy shit why didn’t you think of that?

The murmurs around you died down a bit, anticipating your answer, but you couldn’t pick up any of it, having all of your attention on France’s gracious offer. While you knew he did so because he wouldn’t have been nominated otherwise even if he was there, you had a good intuition that Canada would be kind to you- even if he was opposed to the idea of your intrusion in his space. It would give you time to think about this whole mess, and staying out of the other nation’s ways with a country they barely remembered at the same time was a bonus.

And the fact that France put your consent into consideration?

Was it possible to love someone within five minutes of meeting them?

You looked at France like he held the moon and stars, feeling your heart soar with relief. “If he doesn’t mind and you really think it’s okay, then I’d love to stay with him.”

He visibly brightened, “bon! C'est merveilleux! I’ll tell him rapidement and see you off! Tres bien!” France jumped from his seat, utterly giddy with delight and falling more into his natural tongue as he pulled out a phone and fiddled with it.

For some reason, your ears picked up some select, dejected groans at France’s words and you wondered if they were upset they didn’t get a say-

Wait. See you off?

…

Looks like you’re going to Canada, then.

~

France continuously gushed about you and his younger brother the moment you stepped outside of the meeting’s doors and after fully updating Canada on the situation. He was done so quickly that the other nations didn’t have a chance to properly interrogate you before France moved into your personal space and whisked you out of the room. He was now gliding through the halls with unbridled excitement and you almost thought he would break out into a dance, once again imagining him as a performer in his element.

You would’ve been annoyed by the constant chatter if he didn’t also include you in the conversation just as often, actively inquiring about your preferences in various topics. You appeased him and you both shared anecdotes of your life when appropriate, sharing laughs at your misfortunes and his recounts of fighting with England paired with their creatively petulant jabs toward each other.

His overuse of cologne was more tolerant the longer you stayed in his presence; your nose attributing the distinct smell of fresh rose bushes and lavender crops decorated in a morning’s dew became- to you- a mental signifier of France’s outlook on life. As he explained to you how he saw and embraced the beauty of the world around him, you felt as if you were learning about him for the first time with a pair of new eyes. It was admirable how he could express himself as such without any effort on his part, and you concluded that his soul was gentle- and his heart was bursting with such a strong amount of genuine love that it could not be contained and overflowed into all aspects of his daily life.

Then you remembered his pitiful attempts to stand up to Germany and you laughed to yourself.

You realized you were having such a nice time in the Frenchman’s presence that you had no idea how much time had actually passed as you two traveled. You also figured out where you were this whole time, which was right before the Canadian border. And the trip itself wasn’t long at all, because you were just a couple of cities over from where France’s little brother lived in.

France actually didn’t stop talking your ear off until you were both standing in front of Canada’s plot of residence; and as you followed his lead in approaching the quaint building, you grew curious as to why France had suddenly grown quiet now of all times.

“What’s wrong, Francis?” He had elected to give you his name almost immediately after leaving the conference room, insisting that you use it. He clarified that there was no need to be formal when you would be close to him and his family from now on, and that admission had you smiling stupidly and feeling a lot more at ease.

France seemed to realize he was thinking pensively and cleared it away by shaking his head with a sad smile. It was an expression that had you sobering from your relaxed state due to the bought of nostalgia his face brought to your memories.

“You just… look sad, cherie.” The seriousness in his words threw you off. When he turned to look at you, you also caught some sympathy glistening in his eyes.

Oh. The closest he could’ve seen you smile was when Italy was comforting you earlier, or perhaps as you swapped stories.

Was he able to figure that much out about you with just one look? Or were you accidentally playing your emotions for everyone? How many of them actually knew what you were thinking in that room?

You tried to manage a half-smile at France, but it was entirely too weak and wobbly on your muscles to hold properly. So you dropped the expression and settled on a casual shrug, avoiding his gaze to watch your foot carelessly scuff itself across the sparse grass that decorated the dirt. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Even if you could sort through it and unpack it all right now, it was the completely wrong time to do so.

Ha. Where would you even begin?

France hummed, as if taking your words into consideration before trekking toward the front porch. He reached out to rap on the front door in a one-two pattern. Silence hung heavy in the air before a creak from inside the house broke the atmosphere.

As the door was opened, you were faced with a male who looked very similar to France. The strong smell of maple wafted from him, followed by a spicy or smokey undertone that felt refreshing. Apart from his more violet eyes, round glasses, his comfy style of dress consisting of a red flannel and plain, gray sweats, and the single curl drooping from the parting of his hair, he resembled more of France’s features, not unlike the Italian brothers.

Canada looked tired but perked up the moment France’s exuberant greeting caught his attention. When he looked over and realized you were standing there as well, he became more alert and bashful for some reason.

“Matthieu! Bonjour mon frere, this is the lovely _ I told you all about.”

You waved on cue from France’s welcoming flourish, smiling pleasantly at your new roommate. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Canada. France told me a lot of good things about you.”

You knew a lot more about Canada than France ever told you on the trip here, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. The last thing you needed was to make things more awkward than it already was, especially with someone like Canada, who would likely combust on the spot out of nervousness if you did.

“Nice to meet you, _.” Canada spoke, in a much softer tone and higher pitch than France. It was clearly hard for him to hold eye contact with you and not warble with his words at the same time, but you thought it was endearing.

You attempted to match Canada’s aura as you responded, trying to sound as accommodating as you could. “I hope my staying here won’t be too much of a bother, Canada. I know this is short notice. I’ll do what I can to try not to annoy you or get in your way. I don’t plan on intruding in your own space during my stay, and I hope we get along.”

Canada flinched and shuffled in place, and the shift in his expression told you he was more surprised than offended at your words. He seemed to actively attempt to maintain eye contact with you now, even smiling slightly. “Oh, you can call me Matthew if you like. And I think we’ll get along too, _. I actually hope I won't be a bother for you. I know some people don’t like my company and would rather hang out with others instead…” He raised his arm to rub the back of his neck bashfully.

He was probably the most normal nation you could ever hope to room with in this predicament and you couldn’t be happier at the thought.

“Not at all! I think you’re very easy to talk to, Matthew.”

And as you gaze at the Canadian, you see past scenes of him from the anime he belongs to flashing through your mind like an edited short film. You realize then that while those words had completely slipped out of your mouth on accident, you truly meant it now just as you did then as a first-time viewer.

You both share a laugh at the ease of tension any first, awkward meeting brings as France observes the scene contently. He beamed at the praise you gave him and was delighted to witness your politeness towards Canada, further cementing that letting you stay with his beloved younger brother was a great decision on his part.

You will definitely be visiting his home next.

That black sheep of Europe can suck it.

France bid you adieu, quite literally, and skipped away like a giddy schoolgirl. You could almost see the flowers and sparkles surrounding his body from the pure elation he emanated. You giggled at France’s departure as Matthew invited you inside.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

~

[aspd-culture]

This is a system-specific aspd question - if an alter is regularly showing empathetic (or seemingly empathetic/caring) behaviors and feelings and general selflessness/pro-social instincts but the rest of the system doesn’t, does that mean that the system as a whole doesn’t have aspd if that alter also doesn’t present with those symptoms? Could having an alter who doesn’t remember the trauma and abuse or have any reason to have developed anti-socially negate the possibility of having aspd? Idk, with the emotional amnesia and general dissociative behaviors, it’s hard to figure out if we have it or not because of that particular detail. Like obviously those that do present anti socially developed the way we did as a direct result to what we experienced, but they feel fuzzy and separate and I can’t even tell if the aspd is there too and they just Mimic pro social behaviors to protect the system or what. Not asking for a dx or professional input, it’s just, fuzzy??? It feels like a fuzzy boundary and I don’t know how to tell when system things (like emotional amnesia and regular dissociative amnesia) can skew our perceptions of what symptoms alters present or don’t present, especially if there’s poor communication.

Cw: for clarity I will be using the language to describe system members that anon used in the ask (alter) as that is most comfortable for me so no one is confused and bc that is my preferred term as well. I will still use the term system member when making posts not replying to asks or if the person in the ask uses terms besides alter.

So the first thing is to make sure you're trying to figure out what exactly they're feeling vs their behaviors appearing empathetic. That's because you otherwise are likely to mistake an alter who has helping with masking ASPD as part of their role/area of expertise with an alter without symptoms. Anecdotally, the few systems I've talked to with ASPD as well as my own system have all had at least one alter who can mask so well you'd assume they were prosocial and in fact may appear over-empathetic, but as we know, how they appear can be much different than what they feel since *appearing* empathetic is a very learnable behavior especially through cognitivr empathy. (That was a massive runon sentence but I am a lil sleepy and cannot figure out how to break it up rn.)

That said, I hope I have mentioned this before while speaking about systems and ASPD, but in case I haven't I wanna make sure I'm clear about it.

Not every alter in the system has to fully present every one of the criteria. In other words, if each alter was taken and placed in their own body, it is very possible that none or only one/a few would actually meet the criteria for ASPD on their own. That's because many symptoms of ASPD are things that may trigger certain alters out. It is very unlikely, for example, that every alter will meet the aggression criteria because generally that is something that warrants one or multiple alters versed in handling anger/aggression/fights. Every system works differently, and in some every single alter may qualify for ASPD individually, but that wasn't what I meant when I said if the brain has it then every one has it.

What I meant was that every alter will show significant signs of ASPD of some variety. No one will be entirely without symptoms or not have ASPD if the brain does. But some of those symptoms may be split up between alters while others are neurological (social center development) and must be consistent. Affective empathy would, as far as I know, have to be consistent amongst alters for the system if it is low or none, but there is such a thing as fluctuating empathy in singlets so there may be in alters as well.

I feel like I'm not being very concise so to shorten it, just because every alter has to have ASPD symptoms for the system to have ASPD does not mean that every alter has to have *every* ASPD symptom. I just mean that there can't be a difference of true neurological development (as per our current understanding of how DID affects the brain) that would make one alter not have a personality disorder entirely while some or the rest of the alters do.

I really hope this makes sense. Follow up asks are totally welcome if not.

[sunmoonjune]

Moonie you've done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and you doing it flawlessly. I'd say I'm surprised but I know who you are (a talented writer!!).

My heart skipped a beat when I woke up to the notification for moonlit inferno, and I must say it's 100% worth the wait 🤭🤭

I love that y/n keeps on winning against 8 supernatural beings who are physically stronger than her–and horny too!! (That's a dangerous combo lemme tell you), but now here's a pressing yet stupid questions from me: what kind of shoes y/n wear during the chase cause they must have done wonders to support her feet, and what is the reward that was promised to hyunjin for secretly helping her? 👀 Also how big is kingdom of dawn's bed cause I remember it fitting everyone in the polycule lmao

SONIA <333 kiss kiss I love you so much <33

I'm glad it was worth the wait!! I definitely did not intend for it to be that long but I just kept adding things as I wrote xD

and honestly I think the horny works out in scm!reader's advantage,, like they get so distracted their senses get skewed a lil you know?? either way good for her, she keeps winning!!

for practicality she's probably wearing some kind of running shoes haha xD idk about anyone else (maybe my joints are just bad lmao) but I cannot run in anything but well padded shoes,,,

the reward promised for hyunjin may become a future drabble so I'm keeping it a secret hehe >:DD

LMAO demonteez probably has a custom mattress for their room,, they live in a castle, so they probably have a room with mattresses pushed together to make one big one -- also they like to cuddle so space is conserved pretty easily xD

[widogastc]

I posted 4,395 times in 2022

That's 4,395 more posts than 2021!

197 posts created (4%)

4,198 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@viciousmollymaukery

@widogastc

@wanderingbasilisk

@rainbowcaleb

@quinn-of-aebradore

I tagged 1,509 of my posts in 2022

#txt - 222 posts

#cr spoilers - 153 posts

#cr - 80 posts

#fav - 76 posts

#the last straw - 62 posts

#exu:c spoilers - 59 posts

#essek thelyss - 48 posts

#core.tags - 47 posts

#m9 - 41 posts

#essek brainworms - 38 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ( ͡°ᴥ ͡° ʋ)⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱(⊃ • ʖ̫ • )⊃୧(＾ 〰 ＾)୨

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i have decided that essek's sense of humor is just straight up lying like he just lies for fun and lets people run with it. its the most like senseless lies too no he has never had a cherry in his life and yes of course he has been to the moon but he is so quick and sure with it & its essek cmon he doesnt lie when it isnt about war crimes duh ! so ppl just buy it & he most of the time just lets ppl run with it forever (that is of course if you miss caleb's inconspicuous lil smile he gets when he does so but then again when is he not smiling when essek's around.)

457 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

#4

shadowgast fucks with me bc the thing is, caleb's sense of romance is skewed and shaped like everything else is, given, well, everything. kissing and flirty and sex are such a trivial thing, tools to be used, transactions, another step of deception and manipulation; this is a known fact. so like everything, romance looks and feels so differently for caleb, the steps, gestures, mannerisms, even words, they are all over the place in a very specific way. and then, on the flip side, you've got essek, whom, to me, would sense romance as alien; not something he's inexperienced with, but something that felt disconnected, a puzzle, a tool he never figured out how could be useful for him. i think he never got romance, never fully explored it in a way that was comfortable much less fulfilled him, because he never got the full scope of feelings, not until the nein. and thereafter, caleb.

the fact of the matter is that they were shaped in similar ways, and their view of romance aligns in the most baffling ways. it shouldn't work, they shouldn't work, but i could not think of anybody better for them to deconstruct romance and love as they know it because there's nobody better who could understand their thought process, how they got there, and all the venom they are working to throw back up. there is nobody better to not only sympathize but empathize and not shy away nor judge these twisted little residual shards of their upbringings because they each only want the other to be and do and feel better, feel loved. the bond that formed between them, the love that grew there too, against all odds, is so goddamn pure. not innocent, nor wholesome, but pure, raw, primal, selfish; i need you to do better, it makes me better, your smile is my joy, selfishly, i want you to be happy, i need you to. it means i can too. it all circles back to healing by loving, loving by healing and being loved being a sign of healing. they are.. a lot and i am enamoured by them.

633 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

#3

hmm... still thinking about the way caleb said astrid was very handsome.... and then jester asking if was she a boy and him going no she is a girl. just handsome. just thinking of astrid's specializing in illusionary magic and still showcasing her scars. thinking of astrid taking lead while dancing. thinking of astrid being cutting and smart and so deeply strong. thinking of astrid who used poison and had a 5 minute breakdown in an alley. thinking of astrid punching the ground in rage, grieving the catharsis she had been on stand by for, the promised relief that was her driving force. thinking of astrid, strong and smart and handsome, coming back to the temple. thinking of astrid always i think

684 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

#2

tapes this to my wall keeps it on my wallet etc etc

1,042 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

how fucking special it is the moment when fjord breaks his pact & the immediate response of the nein, offering up their tools without being asked, without second thought, one after the other. how special their little family is. my heart is twice its size

1,374 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

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