#uh yeah whatever other junk goes here

[spaghetti-o-fficial]

I have a copy of the Silmarillion that looks like that. It was brand new last year. It looks like that because every time I was feeling sad or worse, I'd open it up and read a few pages. The storytelling, the battles, the people, the fantastical world building, it was so comforting to me. And now it looks like that. The pages are worn in a few spots from flipping back and forth from there to the index, and it's worn a little thin, but it's in such a great condition bcuz it's been loved. And it's helped through hard times, and I will forever love that book. Not all books that look like that have been mistreated, most have just been loved all too much

What books have you done this to?

Instagram / Shop

[carpisuns]

Summary: “Marinette. My bestie. My platonic soulmate. You are a kleptomaniac.”

In which Marinette is forced to confront her habit of thievery

Word count: 2k

Rating: G

A/N: Written for the pre-reveal, pre-relationship section of the @adrinettezine!

Marinette, Kleptomaniac

“Girl. You can’t be serious.”

“What?” Marinette asked defensively. She attempted to shield the open trunk from view, but this appeared to have no effect on Alya.

“All this junk is stuff you’ve taken from Adrien?”

“It’s not junk!” Marinette said. “They’re my treasures. My Adrien treasures.”

“Right. Your stolen treasures.”

Alya was giving her the “Bestie, this is simply not it” look—pursed lips, arched brows, arms folded in a very judgmental way that Marinette did not like.

“I didn’t— they’re not stolen,” she said. “They were gifts. Like… this! He gave it to me on the first day we met.”

Marinette pulled the black umbrella from the depths of the trunk. She ran a finger over the curved handle, remembering how Adrien’s hand had brushed hers, and couldn’t stop a dreamy little sigh from escaping her lips.

“Uh-huh. And what about this?” Alya wrinkled her nose as she held up a sock, pinching the cuff between her fingers. “You’re telling me Adrien gave you this as a gift?”

Marinette looked down, blushing. “Some of the gifts were… unintentional.”

“Where did you even get this? Did you sneak into his house and raid his laundry basket?”

“Of course not.” Marinette snatched the sock away. “It just fell out of his locker after fencing class one day. And I just, you know, happened to be passing by. And I figured— ”

“— ‘hey, Adrien probably left this stinky sock just for me! Because he saw me creeping around his locker and he was like, “Aw, there goes my Very Good Friend Marinette. I know how much she loves sweaty socks and other soiled clothing items. Maybe next time I’ll leave her my dirty underwear.”’”

Marinette’s face burned. “Alya!” she hissed. “You can’t talk about people’s… you-know-what.”

“Why? Because now you’re thinking of his cute little tushie?” Alya grinned. “Wonder if he’s a boxers guy or a briefs guy. Maybe you should ask him. When you return his stinky sock.”

Marinette opened her mouth, but she really couldn’t form a coherent thought once Adrien’s butt had entered the equation. She stared down at the sock instead.

“It’s not stinky,” she said finally. “I washed it.”

(At first she had decided that she wasn’t going to wash it, because how could she eliminate Adrien’s natural scent, which came from his own perfect skin? But it turned out that even Adrien’s perfect skin had working sweat glands, and soon she had no choice but to put the sock in the wash and douse the remaining contents of the treasure trunk in his new fragrance, Pure.)

“Oh my gosh. Is this… ?” Alya turned over a small box in her hands. “The constipation meds? Really? I thought you were going to burn them after how embarrassed you were about the whole thing.”

“Yeah, but— he got them for me!” Marinette said. “That’s kind of like a gift, right?”

“You have a very strange concept of gift giving.”

“Whatever.”

“What else do you have in here?” Alya started pulling item after item from the trunk—the jacket Adrien had left at her house after a group study session, the crumpled love note he had thrown in the trash on Valentine’s Day, a manga box set he had lent her after her enthusiastic response to his summary of Fruits Basket.

Alya inspected a small drawstring pouch. “What— ”

“No!” Marinette lunged for the pouch, but Alya had already opened it and peered inside.

“Marinette,” she said, “is this hair? Like, actual human hair?”

“It’s not real! I mean, it is real, but— ”

“What did you do? Just pluck it right off his head?”

Marinette bit her lip.

“Oh my gosh, you just plucked it right off his head.”

Marinette let out a huff. “Well, in my defense, I thought he was a wax statue at the time.”

Alya closed her eyes and let out a sigh, the way Papa did when she dropped a plate of pastries for the third time in one day. Marinette squirmed.

“Marinette. My bestie. My platonic soulmate. You are a kleptomaniac.”

“I am not!”

“Girl, listen to me.” Alya put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders. “You know I love you, right?”

Her lips slid into a pout. “Right.”

“You know that I think you are good and wonderful and smart and hot and totally worthy of any person you want to date, right?”

“Right.”

“And you know that I am the number one Adrinette shipper, right?”

“Right.”

Alya straightened. “Well, I regret to inform you that this is officially an intervention. No more stealing from Adrien Agreste.”

“But— ”

Alya held up a hand. “Nope. Everything in this treasure box has to be something Adrien actually gave you. On purpose. We’re gonna go through it right now, and anything that you shouldn’t have, you’re going to give back. You’re supposed to be stealing his heart, not his stuff. Okay?”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped. “Okay.”

It took them nearly an hour to go through the box (mostly because Alya insisted on hearing the backstory of every item). Finally, the trunk was empty, and the items were sorted into two piles—a “keep” pile and a “give back to Adrien” pile.

The “keep” pile was relatively small—the umbrella, her lucky charm, the empty constipation pill box, and various wrappers and scraps of paper that Alya deemed unworthy of returning, because “this is literally a piece of trash, Marinette.”

But the “back to Adrien” pile—well, that one was much bigger.

“I can’t give all this back!” Marinette wailed, draping herself dramatically over the edge of the chaise.

“We talked about this,” Alya said. “It’s not right for you to keep what was never given to you.”

“No, I mean, how am I supposed to give all of this back to him? It’s so much.” She tugged at her pigtails. “He’s gonna think I’m some sort of freak, or creep, or— ”

“— kleptomaniac?”

Marinette groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Relax.” Alya slung an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll come up with a plan for you to return them one by one. We’ll keep it casual. He’ll never know about the junk hoard.”

Marinette shot her a glare.

“Treasure box,” Alya corrected. “Okay, so which of these items was stol— acquired most recently?”

Marinette looked over the pile. “Um, the pen.”

“Right. That’s the one he dropped in Mendeleiev’s class yesterday and it conveniently rolled directly under your chair.”

“It did!”

“Okay, okay.” Alya picked up the pen and handed it to Marinette. “Tomorrow morning, you walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, Adrien, is this yours? I think you dropped it.’ Say it with me.”

“Hey, Adrien, is this yours? I think you dropped it.”

“Good.” Alya grinned. “Let Operation Kleptomaniac commence.”

Marinette crouched behind the stairs with Alya, watching Adrien and Nino across the courtyard.

“Girl, get that out of your mouth,” Alya said. “It’s not even yours.”

Marinette jolted, slipping the pen out from between her teeth. She inspected the cap. There were a few telltale scratches and dents in it, but maybe that was because Adrien had the same bad pen-chewing habit that she did.

A blush crept over her face. If Adrien had chewed on this pen too, then her lips had touched the same spot as his. An indirect kiss, just like the one she had not-exactly-shared with him a few weeks ago at the movies when he accidentally took a sip of her drink. Alya had almost thrown away that straw, but after an impassioned speech from Marinette about the preservation of cherished memories (and the trace amounts of Adrien’s cellular tissue that come with them), Alya had sighed and agreed that she could keep it.

“What are we still waiting for? It’s time.” Alya yanked Marinette out from behind the stairs and dragged her toward Adrien and Nino. Marinette tried to tug away, but she tripped and tumbled forward.

She braced for impact, but it never came. Instead, she was met with something warm and soft that smelled just like her treasure box—clean linen and citrus.

“Whoa,” Adrien said. “You okay, Marinette?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she jumped out of his arms. “Yar! I mean, yeah! I’m— it’s— it’s all grood. Good.” A too-wide grin stretched across her face, her neck growing hot under her collar.

Adrien smiled. She fixed her gaze on his nose to avoid his unfairly beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, his nose was just as beautiful, and it was even closer to his lips, which made her heart hammer like that weird construction-themed akuma from last week (Bob le Builder, a name which she found both tacky and lazy, but which Chat Noir loved, of course).

“Um,” she said intelligently. What was she supposed to tell him again? Her mind had melted into goo. It was probably spilling out of her ears at this point. Oh no—what if Adrien saw her disgusting brain goo??

Alya was miming something behind Adrien’s back. Paper? Writing?

Oh. Right.

Marinette lifted the pen and let the well-rehearsed words spill out. “Adrien, is this yours? I think I’m in love with you.”

She froze. Adrien’s eyebrows shot up, perfect lips forming a tiny o of surprise. Behind him, Alya slapped her hand to her forehead.

“It!” Marinette blurted, much too loudly. “The pen. That’s what I’m in love with. It’s like a pencil, but more darker and, um, smeary-er. I mean, it has such a great… writing— smooth— ink… ness. W-where did you get it?”

Adrien blinked. Then a laugh bubbled out of him.

“It’s just a pen, Marinette. If you like it that much, you can keep it.”

“R-really?”

“Of course! I’ve got a bunch more.” He smiled warmly, sending a golden shimmer all the way down to her toes.

“Well, how about a trade? You can have one of mine!” She shrugged off her backpack and pulled out her pack of pink gel pens. “Um, unless you don’t like pink?”

“How could I not like pink? It’s your signature color.” He grinned, taking one of the pens. “Thanks! And, by the way, you might want to disinfect that other pen. I have kind of a bad habit of chewing on the cap. Sorry. Would you rather have a new one? I’d be happy to—”

“No!” she said quickly. “No, that’s fine. Thanks.”

“Okay, then. See you in class!” Adrien waved, and then she watched him walk away with Nino, slipping the gel pen in his pocket.

“Well, that was… interesting,” Alya said. “But I guess it was technically a success. Nice work, klepto.”

Marinette smiled down at the pen in her hand.

Maybe Operation Kleptomaniac wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Adrien sat in his desk chair, rolling the pink gel pen between his fingers.

“Man, that Pigtails is so weird,” Plagg commented through a mouthful of cheese.

“She’s not weird,” Adrien said. “She’s just… ”

He paused. He didn’t quite have the words for what Marinette was. Smart, definitely. Kind. Funny. Passionate. Brave. Talented. A good person. A good friend.

“… she’s Marinette,” he finished.

Adrien pulled open his desk drawer and took out a little box. Inside were various items he’d collected since he started school. An old CD from Nino. A sparkly invitation to Rose’s birthday party. A spoon from an ice cream cone he’d shared with Kagami. The wrapper from the piece of gum Alya had offered him on his second day. The ticket stubs from the movies he’d seen with Marinette last month.

Now that he thought of it, most of the things in the box came from Marinette. There were ribbons from bags of homemade pastries, knicknacks she’d made for all her friends, a dozen handwritten notes (always signed “Your friend, Marinette”).

“I don’t get why you keep all this stuff,” Plagg said. “It’s just a bunch of junk.”

Adrien carefully placed the pink gel pen in the box, between his Kitty Section mask and the pair of fake glasses “Marino” had left behind.

“They’re not junk.” He smiled. “They’re treasures.”

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

For T/A, how does A tell T about her kinks? How does he take it when she comes clean?

WELL she tells him after they uhhh hook up and it gets kinda kinky, so she's already given him a little taste of what her preferences are. it's kinda hard to talk her way around snapping out of her afterglow and into action when T mumbled into her boobs that he was hungry. and going to raid the kitchen of the place she's house-sitting and bringing back several kinds of junk food with her. aaaaand straddling his chunky hips and insisting on (consensually) hand-feeding him and tipsily telling him how good he's being and how soft he is until he's flopped back burping and groaning against his pillow and the sheets are full of crumbs. aaaaaaaand getting off with him again after that because holy fuck, she may have decided to be upfront about her kinks from now on but (a) this is not exactly what she had in mind but also (b) HOLY FUCK, THIS IS SO HOT?

T feels very similarly. they wake up tangled together in the dorito-y sheets the next morning and he remembers what happened last night and is INSTANTLY turned on. he's done plenty of stuffing on his own, even if he hasn't called it that in so many words, but not like THIS. not with someone hot spread over his lap petting his hair with one hand and cramming oreos in his mouth with the other and telling him that he's doing so good, he's being so good for her, god he's so big and soft. he hastily scuttles out before he can somehow embarrass himself over this. then he doubles back and leaves a note making up some responsibility so he doesn't seem like an asshole. instead he goes back to his aunt's and jerks off in the shower for like 45 minutes replaying last night in his head.

ANYWAY A has made this pact with herself that she's going to be straightforward about this stuff but she's also promised herself that she isn't going to Get Attached (tm) so she figures, whatever, it's low stakes telling this guy and also she is not beating the allegations here. a regular person would have brought MAYBE two kinds of snacks back to bed. not seven! she has a shift with T at the ice cream shop later that day and they kind of stammer and blush around each other until he says "last night was fun" in the most casual way he can manage and she exhales like "YEAH IT WAS FUN IN A NORMAL WAY RIGHT?"

T has been thinking about how not normal this was and how fucking stellar it felt and how the entire thing has been playing on an extremely horny loop in his brain since he left her bed. T is making bargains with god or whoever that he will do literally anything if he gets to feel A's body weight on top of him again, pinning him down and gently but firmly pushing food into his mouth until he literally can't anymore. no way is he letting this go undiscussed. he waits a tasteful couple of minutes before continuing, "you do that kinda stuff often?"

and A has made this stupid STUPID pact with herself and she told herself that she would Just Tell People, What Like It's Hard, and so she grits her teeth and gets the box cutter so she can funnel some of her apprehension into tearing up cardboard boxes instead of, like, spontaneously combusting. "I mean," she says, plunging the blade into the first unlucky box. "not as often as I want to, I guess."

T's like, excuse me, please elaborate here, and she doesn't give him a moment to cut in before clumsily rushing out the spiel she's been obsessively rehearsing in her head since her own shower after he left in the morning. she explains being a feeder and tells him it basically amounts to wanting to feed her partners and thinking it's hot when they gain weight and he barely blinks.

T has been around the block a few times. he's seen a lot of porn. he gets the unique eroticism of real-life jiggle physics. he's appreciated a big belly or two. he's, uh, gotten some ideas from some gainer videos. he is not phased by any of this In The Least. if anything he's thrilled that that means what happened last night is probably still on the table for the future. he's like, "okay, when do we start?"

they start in the walk-in freezer, falling into each other to make out so enthusiastically that they kind of forget they're at work for a bit. she's got him pressed against the cold metal wall, hands gripping his chubby sides as he hefts her belly in one hand and buries his other hand in her hair. and they take a LOT of ice cream home from work that night.

[wispisstillverybored67]

Prelude To Disaster

It happened all too quickly. We were just gonna leave our camping trip to go back home. I was busy poking at what remained of a cherry pie, the girls were either figuring out how to head home, or helping Mar pack up. Slowly but surely, Wild’s car would be filled with whatever useless junk Mar had either brought or now had. What a dumbass! Little did he, or any of us, know what would be our downfall. I would’ve liked for a bit of foresight, but now I realize that foresight to anything is boring, but if you know how it goes out, sabotage it to get the ending you want. None of us knew what we were getting ourselves into. 

Miro still didn’t trust cars, so Celeste was trying to strap her on top of the car so she wouldn’t fall off. Of course, she could simply trail behind us, she could fly after all. But whatever. Wild was busy warming up her car since the ride might be cold, it’s still winter after all. Shen-Yun was attempting to squeeze in one last marshmallow before she’d have to put out the fire, looking depressed. Key term being attempting. Moon was… uh… Actually, I don’t know where she wandered off either. Split was trying to convince Mar to sell her stuff so she can pawn it off somewhere else, or something. While the Myce Iles make a fun camping spot, the spores there are barely anything worth fiddling with. Of course I still had swiped a few samples, because why not? 

“Hurry up! We’re all waiting for you!” Wild called from over there.

Seriously? You couldn’t at least poke me out of a daydream? Oh whatever…

I headed inside, and yeah, she was right. Hmph. Oh well, time to leave.

…Is what I would’ve liked to say, but she hasn’t hit the gas. In fact, she was just gripping the steering wheel. Her feet weren’t even on the gas pedal. And she was smiling like she just lost her sanity, eyes closed and all. 

“Uh… We can leave now,” I said, confused.

Nothing came up. Yet, of course.

“Are you deaf or somethin’? She said we could get going.” Celeste complains.

“Yeah! I know! I know!” She said pretty quicky, not moving a muscle not named her hands and arms. She was… vibrating a little. 

Moon started poking her from the middle. “Hellooooooo?”, she’d say, and then quickened her face-poking. “Yoo-hoo? Yooooooooo-hooooooo.” 

This continued for a few minutes. And then…

*krrrr-poohm!* 

The steering wheel was conked out of the car. It slipped up from her tight-ass grip, then landed on the hood. We all stared at her, she was still smiling like a psychopath.

“What did you just do?” Shen-yun breaks the silence. 

I look to her side. Her phone was tossed over, which is weird. I thought it was in her pocket, but I guess not. 

“She got a hate comment on her fan-fiction, that’s what,” I responded, phone in hand. All this over a damn fic? You can just block the commenter, but nooooo, she just had to break the steering wheel with her bare hands. Weak!

The whole car broke out in a chorus of “Awww…” or “Aw man…” or “Come on!”. I don’t blame them one bit. Now, I WILL admit that fixing cars is one of the few things I’m not good at, but you really think I’ll let them know? 

I went outside. Mar followed suit. Pop went the hood. 

“You got any ideas?” He asked, picking up the steering wheel.

“Yeah I got it. Just need to re-attach it to the uh… thing,” Though I was curious on what’s inside since it sort of slammed onto it and fell. 

Ok… so far so good…

“Ooooo, what’s this?” I reached for an odd wire that caught my eye. And then…

*bomph! ka-djargh* 

“Oops.” 

Now there was a chorus of “Dammit Silver!” In my defense, we should’ve just walked.

Everyone filed out of the car, now looking pained or out of place. What could we do now? There’s no signal out here to call anyone, and the only phone that also uses gigs in place of wi-fi was in need of charging. Wild would never lend the others her phone, so that’s out of the question. And none of us could get very far to look for a civilization, the nearest town was, what, 50 miles from here? No thanks. 

“Nice goin’, ‘Child Prodigy’” Celeste is the first to complain, as she occasionally does. Though it would’ve stung a bit more if she just hadn’t used my title. Blegh, oh well.

“Don’t mind that clumsy. Now what?” Miro poked in, looking to one way while lounging on a large mushroom.

“Beats me. This place is filled with numbing spores. No one wants to live up here,” I was right, of course. 

No one wants to live up here. 

I walked up to her. She had somehow yanked one of our (can’t remember who’s) spyglasses. 

“Do you seriously think you’ll find something here? It’s no-man's land, I tell ya.” She (of course) didn’t listen. She just focused in the thing farther, wanting to find someone else.

“You know, a little birdie told me that there was something hidden here, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what. We’ll find help, don’t worry.” She finally spoke up.

“Is this like the time you knew for a fact that belladonna weren’t poisonous, then some of us got hospitalized for a week because they’re not poisonous to Fæ?”

“Hmm? I dunno what you’re talking about~” 

Blegh. Classic Fæ.

*tck* *kaa-shng!* 

Finally, 

The fun stuff has begun. 

“Yo, what was that?” I headed to the direction of the noise, south-west. There, the others were already scattered over there. Celeste was waving her cane, but not in her usual “weirdo-yelling-at-cloud” waving. What’s up with her?

“Celeste… Who’s that?” asked a mildly terrified Mar.

A snare trap? Two unconscious, blue-skinned (although one of them is green) teenagers(?)? Neither of which we’ve heard of before, conveniently popping up when we were trying to figure out what to do? Hahahaha~ This already got exhilarating. 

“Hmph,” She lightly pokes the two once with her cane, each. “Set up a couple a’ traps. When those set off, I cut ‘em up. First time someone’s been dumb enough to get caught in ‘em though.”

Wait, traps for hunting? How? There’s no animal in 15 mi- Oh. 

“So THAT’S why we had fresh meat for days! Wow. That’s pretty smart!” Only-chef Moon chirps.

It wasn’t. Either that was the last of the fauna, or they’ve scared away. But I didn’t say anything. I was more interested in our… “guests”. Why? Think about it. No one lives here, no one in their sane mind would. And yet, look what our ol’ Celeste found? Blue-skinned (again, one of them is green) men (if they can be considered that, for all I could’ve known), right there on the rope. This would be the research opportunity of a LIFETIME! And here they are… Just delicately out cold, laid out right in front of me like a cold platter. Could you blame me for wanting to indulge? No. Not at all. Less talk-y more indulge-y!

I walked on ahead. Then, I had sat either on top of them, or grossly close to them, I can’t remember. 

“Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm… What nice little boys we have here! What shall we do with them~?” I said, already revved up.

“Do NOT,” Mar already knows what’s gonna happen. What a nice friend!

“Cut their leg muscles off. That’ll have ‘em weeping,” Split remarked, flashing my knife in her fingers. She just read my mind. Oh, how fun!

“Hahahaha~ Their legs are already tied up all good… Go wake them up,” Moon immediately left to go get some salt. You may be saying to yourself “But Silver? Salt doesn’t wake up the unconscious, doesn’t it?” Yes. You’d be right. She thought that salts=smelling salts. It’s crazy, but…

“Okay, I got the stuff. Waaaakeeeeyyy-waaaakeeeeeyyy!” She said when she returned, now she was sprinkling salt over their noses. 

Nothing happened yet. Of course.

“I don’t get it. Doesn’t salt wake up people?” She sounded dejected.

“Moon, smelling salts ≠ table salt.” I was a little exasperated.

“Oh right. I forgot.” 

Sure enough, her idea was so crazy, it worked! Sort of. Mar had tried to convince us a little earlier before that the teens were actually dead, to keep me away from them. Hah! As if! After the salt went on, I had pulled one of each’s hands up, and they slammed down way too quickly. What an idiot~ I think I like them already. Hahahahaha! 

“Oh shit!” Mar shouted. Dammit, now you’re gonna scare them away! 

Sure enough, the two of them realized that they couldn’t play dead anymore. It’s time to wake up. Let’s hope they don’t fight back, it’s boring if they fight back.

“Shove it!” I positioned myself a little farther, then faced them again. Body 2 inches away, face front. “Mooooooorrrrrnin’, Sleepyheads! You’re finally up!” I said.

The green one, who woke up a little later, just mouthed out “What the…”. The blue one was another story. Quickly, he (attempted to) shove(d) me out of the way, and shielded the other one with his body. 

“G-get away from him! Don’t pull anything! If you don’t, I’m gonna…” he hissed out.

“Do whaaaaaaattt…? I just cocked my head to the side. 

“For your own sake, don’t you dare touch him!” I see… he’s a protective friend… At least I think they’re friends. I wish I could experience that. It sounds so nice.

“For my owwwwnnnn sake…? You don’t know what’s good for you…” Don’t tempt me, ginger. I’m trying to make this easier for you. For your sake, don’t tell me you don’t want to hurt me!

“What the hell is going on h-” the other one finally spoke. I’d be confused too.

“For your information, you were dumb enough to get caught in a snare-trap. Ya weren’t my target, but you’re also the only other people here. Now, speak: who are you, and what is your business, you two?” Celeste began to pry.

The green one simply refused.

“As if we have to answer ourselves to surface mortals,” he looked to us again, “Especially to those such as you.” 

“Well, aren’t you crabby! But you misunderstood. I’m not a mortal.” I corrected him. 

“Did I ask for specifics? No. I don’t have to answer to banogara!” Huh, that’s weird. The chip should’a translated that last word. 

“Don’t start, now!” the other yelled at him. 

I shoved a finger in my ear. Split handed me my knife. Now we play the ransom game! 

“Ahahahaha! You’re a feisty one! *talking creepily slow* Mmm… I can tell you have a tight bond. *licks blade of knife* So how ‘bout a bargain? I’ll let you free… of harm… if you just answer my questions. It’s a very simple bargain…” Of course, it doesn’t just work that way now, doesn’t it?

“Hmph!” 

“*talking weirdly fast* Ya know I’ve wondered what a person tastes like in soup~” Were you wondering what the knife was for? Perfect threats, of course!

Oh, stop looking at me like that, you know I was just kidding.

“Stop, put the knife down!” Moon spoke up in tandem with the ginger.

“May I remind you that I’m trying to help you?!” That made the two of us confused. Well said, green!

“What?! Well… alright. But you only get one, okay?” We finally came to an agreement.

“What’s your names?” Shen-Yun NO! You’re supposed to ask them where they came from! Not their names!

The ginger spoke up as I untangled their legs. He pointed to himself, then his friend. 

“I’m uh, Carp. The asshole is Levin.” Who names their kid after a fish? Oh well! 

“‘Asshole’? YOU’RE too naive.” Levin complained to him directly, then walked away. 

“A bargain is a bargain. You have your freedom.” Immediately after I spoke, he headed after his friend. 

And then suddenly, out of the blue…

*ka-fwiish!* 

“OW!” 

Levin was now facing us. His hand was stuck out, smoke was pouring out of it. His face was pure focus and killing intent. A delightful scowl, no doubt.

Then he took off. Carp followed suit.

“Oh NOW it’s on! Come on! After ‘im!” I shouted, taking off.

“Coward! Stop running away!” First was Wild.

“Heyyyyy! Wait uuuuuppp!” Then came Shen-Yun.

“Wheeeee! This sounds fun!” Next was Miro, with skewed priorities.

“Gah! Wait up, dammit!” Here came Celeste. 

“This is gonna hurt a lil’... WAIIIIIITT SILVY!!!” And next was Moon. 

“What the?! Put me down already!” And a surprisingly conscious Mar.

We (well, airquotes we, Split stayed behind for some reason) ran after them like hell. They went everywhere: first to the northwest, then to the tiniest ‘shrooms southeast of that, around the car back in a circle a few times, and then we made our way to a ridge. Sometime along the way, everyone else gave up, and I was the only one left running at the two. 

Then it hit me: why the ridge? It’s gonna kill them if they jump. Doesn’t it seem counterintuitive to jump? No one could survive that jump.

And then something else hit me later on: they weren’t even human. 

I finally caught up to them, turns out football tackling your target isn’t so bad. 

“What the?! *plegh*” Did he just do that?! 

Blegh! I’ve been vomited on! Why the hell did it smell like rabbit pellets? Weird! 

I dropped down. By the time I wiped it all off with my sleeve, they were gone. What a waste!

“Heh…? Where’d you two go?” I checked over the ridge. Apart from the faint sound of “I thought this was the right place! We’ll find a way!” or “Wrong spot, dumbass!” every trace of our “guests” was gone. 

Dejected, I headed back to the car. 

*10 minutes later…*

“What happened that caused you to have blue stains on your sleeves?” Even though Mar was annoyed, he just couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.

“That Carp dipshit vomited on me… *grumbles*” I was… less ticked off then I should be, I’ll admit.

“But enough about me. Did you guys find anything useful?”

“Nothin’ at all. Did you not see us give up halfway through the run?” Celeste retorts.

“Really…? *facepalm* Nande ya nen!” I shoved a finger in my ear. Is the chip broken? Seriously? 

Moon and Mar looked at the others confused. Wild simply translated it for them.

I flopped down on the ground. Somehow, it bounced, like you’re sitting on a spring mattress. How weird. But it’s probably just my imagination, riiiiiiiiiight? 

“Um… Silvy? What was that?” Moon asked, noticing the bounce.

Miro went on ahead. She looked like she was gonna say something.

“Oomph! Hey! It really is bouncy!” she called to the others, excitedly. 

I got up, then she followed suit. The others all walked to the bouncy patch, looking confused.

“Sooooo… What’s it?” Split was not impressed.

“Yeah, I mean, the ground is usually solid, right?” 

“Yes, you’d be right. But there’s something under there. A ceiling, I mean.” I responded. She looked like she was about to jump, but when I said that, she got off.

“You know what that means, right?” I grinned smugly at Mar, who was mouthing out “Don’t you fucking dare-” 

“...We’re directly above an unstable tomb?” Shen-Yun peeped quietly. Celeste rolled her eyes, already sensing what I was getting at.

“Close. But no. This patch of suspended-bridge ground is directly dividing us between what’s underground. And this leads to…” 

“...An underground city?” Wild’s tone was blank, but I could see the flash in her eyes as plain as day. 

“Correct. Now the only thing we have to do is get down there. Does anyone know how we cheese our way down?” 

“Uh… We’ll just… dig our way down! Yeah. Let’s do that!” Moon reaches for shovels in the car trunk, and hands them out to most of us. This may take a while…

*14 minutes later*

After what felt like an eternity of digging on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on… the hole is revealed. Whatever was left just caved out. Or something. 

“Whoa… Y…You don’t think this has something to do with those folks, right?” Ever the cautious Mar trying to make sense of what doesn’t make sense. 

“It has to be. People don’t just commit suicide after giving their names, don’t they? Well… if there’s people down there like you think, maybe we can get them to help us get home.”

“Nah. They ain’t gonna be that nice, if they’re all like that Levin… But this crazy shit you pulled… If you wanted to go down there, I wouldn’t say no.” Celeste said, an intrigued angle tinged her voice. 

“That’s the spirit, Celly! Well, I know I’m all packed!” Unusual for someone as chipper and optimistic(ly childish) as Moon, she pulled out a gigantic bag filled with whatever she keeps in there. Miro just gave her a smaller briefcase. Where’d she get that?

Shen-Yun, who has been missing for the past 5 minutes, comes back with a backpack of nonsense stuffed inside. Split came next, holding a toolkit. Mar, who already had some luggage on hand, was mostly questioning the other’s heavy packing, and was nosing The Hole. 

“This isn’t a vacation…” he said. 

“Yet you’re also curious on the underground… Hahahaha!” I also eyed The Hole. All I had to bring was my phone, a charger, a book and a few other tools. 

Soon, we were looking inside The Hole. I can feel goosebumps shooting from my legs. Something’s coming up here… I can feel it! This is gonna be so good. It’s like opening up a box of chocolates. The anticipation is killing me. Someone get shoved inside The Hole already! 

I don’t exactly remember who went in first, just that I went last. Someone DID get shoved in though like I hoped. Between someone shouting “Cannonball!” and me, that was that. 

We were met by a gigantic stairway, sure it was wooden, but it was also blue, conveniently enough. There was a light at the top, the stairs appeared at times to be stretching to eternity... Oh well! Just some light cardio.

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for… The thing I’ve been waiting to say all day since I’ve started telling you about our antics…

Welcome to the underground!

[aceofshitposts]

Ahhhh!!! Congratulations darling!!! Instead of prompting something new, might I suggest another bit of the multiverse Tim, Shutterfly verse? 🥰❤️❤️ I am addicted!!! Haha

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I had to think about things for a while and then i lost all my progress LMAO but here we go! Part three. All parts are also tagged shutterbug au but here's some handy links:

One Two

-

Tim shakes his head, he needs to focus.

Just because Other Tim apparently has a loving and attentive boyfriend, who happens to be someone who Tim had a completely complicated history with, was no reason for him to lose focus. He needs to figure out how he got here and, most importantly, how to get back to his universe.

And then the phantom image of Jason’s junk floats by in his mind’s eye and Tim’s brain comes to a screeching halt all over again.

Tim grabs a pillow, shoves it to his face and screams.

Okay, this wasn’t getting him anywhere. Simple tasks. Break it down into smaller things, easier to manage and achieve. Firstly, he should change out of Other Tim’s sleep clothes which appear to be boxers and an oversized t-shirt.

Wait.

This was definitely one of Jason’s t-shirts wasn’t it.

Tim doesn’t think he’s ever stripped out of a shirt so fast, throwing the offending article across the room.

Funny how the Jason back in his world had failed to kill him because Tim’s pretty sure this Jason is going to manage it without even trying.

There’s the jingle of keys in the door and Jason’s voice calling out, “Tim? You ready yet?”

Shit.

“Not yet!” Tim yells back. Oh god, had it really been twenty minutes already? Tim scrambles towards the dresser and begins frantically pulling on whatever clothes look easy to move in.

“You didn’t get up until I came in the door, did you?” Jason’s voice is warm and amused and close.

Tim can’t help the way he goes still. Jason sounds perfectly friendly and yet…

“Tim?”

Jason is concerned. Of course he’s concerned, his boyfriend is acting weird but Tim isn’t... He can’t do this.

He takes a deep breath, hoping that Jason will at least hear him out a little bit-

“Oh,” Jason breathes out like a balloon losing air, “not my Tim, are you?”

“What?” Tim spins around, finally facing Jason in the doorway. His expression is open, far more than Tim’s used to, looking at him with furrowed brows and a small frown.

Jason signs heavily, running one hand through his hair and muttering, “shit. Didn’t expect this to happen to you. Okay, uh, if you don’t know me my name’s Jason, I can help you get home.”

What? What??

“This has happened before?” Tim blurts out.

Tim almost wishes Jason had gotten violent, it would be more familiar than the small smile Jason gives him in return.

“Yeah, uh, listen, this might sound weird depending on what universe you’re from but we’ve been having some problems with… universe leakage.” Jason tilts a hand back and forth as he talks. If Tim had any doubts about whether Other Tim knew about Jason before, he doesn’t now.

 Universe leakage, though? So, whatever had caused Tim to wake up here wasn’t something he’d strictly done and it had happened here before. Jason also said he hadn't expected it to happen to Tim? Interesting.

“Tell me everything you know, maybe I can help,” Tim says, feeling a little more sure footed with a solvable problem in front of him.

Jason’s expression shifts to surprise briefly before settling into a smirk.

“A’ight. You might want to put some pants on first, though.”

Tim looks down at his hands, where he is clutching a pair of dark wash jeans that he didn’t manage to put on before Jason had interrupted. Tim’s face goes hot, realizing that he’s had this entire conversation in boxers, and Jason laughs, warm and deep, his eyes going soft in a way Tim has only seen in pictures.

Yup, this Jason was absolutely going to kill him.

[next]

[fruitycircus]

ok quick rundown of my take of that laserblast & venomous are brothers au i drew earlier. ill probably revise this later with images & junk but im just gonna go through it now and update later.

it also might be nice to mention that this was based on my own speculation of the connection between lb & pv back in 2019, all pre-big reveal & lets get shadowy

soo laserblast and later venomous were born between two heroes in neo riot city (im not sure if id get into the parents but id say one was human and the other some type of lizard/snake mutant) laser got his folk's powers and good looks, and venomous didn't, tho he did recieve some mutant traits including always being ourple.

fast forward a couple years to when POINT has been a solid team for a while now with laserblast himself, foxtail, and dr. greyman, and also silverspark, el bow, and rippy roo a bit later. venomous had been offered to enroll in POINT prep so he could join the team by his big brother, but as of right now venomous holds it off and says he's busy with his own personal studies, all of which are based on glorbs (like what theyre made of, if they can be modified wink wink nudge nudge, etc) but he is able to take on the offer. he currently studies in a separate building disguised as a common shop winkity wink wink. tho he admits its a tad bit suspicious, ven claims that he means no harm and just uses the building as a controlled work zone for his projects. only he and laser know about this location, and ven says he doesnt trust POINT with this information but plans to tell them when he can confirm his tests are stable and safe to use. he also recently aquired a test rat from a science program that "re-inhabits" lost critters for the sake of science. although ven just didnt have the heart to use her for his projects, thus she treats her more like a pet / friend / child and names her fink

now would also be a good time to mention laser & ven's own issues; laser's is unchanged from canon (abt him feeling that his powers are mid compared to his team and how he felt like he couldnt be himself even with his girlfriend carol and what he was capable for doing compared to her.) ven, although content with his complete lack of powers, struggles with being seen. his brother is the laserblast for crying out loud, he often feels overshadowed and/or just known as laserblast's sibling. he wants to make a name for himself with his own passion. yeah, being offered to possibly join POINT is an amazing opportunity, but ven isnt sure if huge superhero teams are his calling. all he knows that science is something he likes but is unsure if his current experiments are something he'll do forever. he wants a life that he doesnt have and an opportunity that doesnt exist...yet!

anyways, ven and fink goes out into the city to get more supplies for his experiments, but while he was gone greyman enters the "donut shop" and then its all downhill from here: greyman alerts the team of a possibly villain living there (again, laser was the only one who knew that ven was doing this), foxtails sends laser, silverspark, and el bow to investigate, laser offers to "check the perimeter" and tries to cover up his brother's work, which all leads up to the sandwich incident where laserblast is presummed to be shrunk or teleported or whatever. POINT recieves the news and his heartbroken about the loss of their beloved hero... but we all know he survived by escaping into a sewer pipe and left the scene.

the next morning, laser tries to go back to the surface and explain everything to the team but is confronted by ven. he doesnt know how to feel knowing his life work was destroyed, why laser almost abandoned his team / girlfriend in the moment, or just really what laserblast was thinking. laser and ven squabble for a moment until laser straight up tells ven to confirm that he is dead and isnt coming back, and then leave. ven assumes hes bluffing and waits...and waits...and...uh oh.

a few weeks pass and POINT is nearly in shambles. el bow was fired since he was blamed for laser's disappearance, rippy roo starts looking into atomic physics, greyman starts building chip damage, and carol is confirmed to be pregnant with laser's baby. during all of this, ven tries to contact POINT about the truth about the sandwich incident, but no one is able to give him the time of day to listen. this breaks him to bits, he knew POINT didnt know him that well, but they were just straight up ignoring him now. he felt so powerless knowing that his brother was alive and probably wouldnt bother coming up after what he (and carol) said. what was ven supposed to do without his big brother in the w-

wait a minute!

ven has an epiphany: with his brother no longer a thing, he's no longer in laser's shadow and could do whatever he wanted to now!! sure its grim, but its true. POINT never gave a second thought about him so its not like they'd reach out now! and soon enough venomous started studying bioengineering and making various projects and weapons and even begins working with glorbs again, although rather than just studying them he dives deeper into their effects and how they can be used a power supplies, both as actual energy and powerups for heroes. he also invents what would be the turbo collar, to which he gives to his daughter / now (maybe-self-proclaimed?) minion fink!! however, a problem did arise: no hero was willing to buy his projects feeling as if they were made with ill intent. some villains did reach out to purchase and although ven was skeptical they sure did pay a pretty peny for it, not to mention he did realize that he had some sharing ideals with them, and before everyone knew in ven broke into the villain market and became who we know today as professor venomous. sometimes he missies his brother, but he now considers it a lost cause and not much we can do about it today. from here on out everything about him lines up to the show's events (we're captured, villains night out/in, etc)

on a more somber note, laser stayed under the city weeping about being far weaker than he was before. he begins physically deteriorating into something he could even reconinze. but even at his lowest point, he refused to give up. he needed his powers back and then sum. he wants his old life back to the way everything was. he remebered some of his bro's studies about glorbs, but only the results of each experiment. he had to learn how to reverse engineer it all by himself, and thats what he set himself to do. but how was he supposed to get glorbs? steal them? well, yeah, i guess. and thus changed lase- no, shadowy figure's trajectory and goal. he travels though the city system to steal glorbs from various hideouts, stores, etc. and once the city ran dry, he jumped to the next town over and rinse and repeat until he went to lakewood plaza turbo, home of the elusive glorb tree which would of gave shadowy an almost lifetime supply of glorbs for him. when we wasn't stalking to plaza and being a creep, he was working with the glorbs he stole to make them regain his original powers and more permanently.

the thing is, he actually did have a power that survived. y'know that purple depower bubble TKO can make?? yeah, shadowy is completely immune to that. you cant mess with something that isnt there. it might seem usless considering not many heroes possess that type of power, but it sure can come in handy when your son, specifically his evil alter ego, tries to attack.

aaaand thats it!! ill probably have to look back at this later but for know here it is in all of its angst-fueled glory. moral of the story? you can both be the evil twin. ty and goodnight!!!!

[buckybarnesdiaries]

what a nightmare

bucky barnes x reader ⎢ masterlist.

request by @marvel-diaries: Hi wifey❤️ So I came across this image and I’ve been cry laughing for like 5 minutes😂So for 2K I wanted to request something kind of based on this image😂 You’re on your period and Bucky takes care of you for the day! Makes you feel comfortable and goes to the store for you to buy what you need. He ends up calling you on FaceTime because the whole pad/tampon section is just so confusing so he needs your help! At the end of the day you and him are cuddled up on the couch together eating your favorite snacks! Please and thank you❤️

word count: 1k.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Once Bucky found you wrapped in your favorite cozy blanket lying on the sofa and with pouty lips, he knew that month your period hit you really hard. You could barely move without feeling cramps all around your lower belly, grunting and curling in a ball with your arms surrounding your abdomen. He left your house without saying a word about where he was going, just placing a soft kiss on your forehead and asking you to not move, to rest. Bucky drove to the closest store, decided to pamper you the whole day or until you felt better. That was the only thing he wanted, to make you smile again and make disappear any pain that you were suffering.

His first stop was the snack sections. Your boyfriend brought you all kinds of junk food —your favorite chocolate bars, chips, candies, peanut butter. Anything he had seen you eating other months, even two bottles of ice cream because one wasn't enough. Bucky bought you one of those stuffed animals with cherry pits inside to put it in the microwave and use it to alleviate the cramps. He took a raccoon. It didn't need an explanation why, it was pretty obvious. He toured the whole supermarket, adding some pizzas to the cart for dinner.

Everything was going okay. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help you and to contribute to your well-being. But that happiness fell into pieces when he reached the pad and tampons sections. “What the hell?” He thought confused like never in his life. If he believed that war was to go to Germany and fight the Nazis was because in his time there weren't too damn many kinds of pad and tampons. They were divided by size, fabrics, brands, smells, colors (...). He didn't know which one you used and he thought about asking somebody working there but each person was a world.

Much to his regret, fucking up the surprise, Bucky took his phone from a pocket and called you via facetime. His heart broke as soon as he saw you on his screen with teary eyes, sniffing in pain.

“Hey, sorry”. He mumbled honeyedly. “Listen, I, uh… came to the store and… what the… hell is all of this? I just wanted to buy you pads or tampons or whatever the hell you use and… honestly, this 's a nightmare”.

You couldn't help but laugh in tears, cleaning them with the back of your hand, just by imagining the situation by the look on his face. He was literally begging for help.

“They're called Tampax Pearl”. You chuckled.

“Yeah, okay… Lemme… Lemme… Just gimme a second”. Bucky was freaking out, touring with his gaze the whole damn hallway.

“They're the color of your eyes”.

“Doll, listen… I ain' playing games, I just wanna go home and never come back”.

Your laughter made you stir because of the lash of pain straight to your ovaries, curling up your legs to your chest.

“Blue and green”.

“My eyes aren't gre— To who the hell are you looking at, uh?”

“You should watch them under the sun, you punk…”

“Your passive-aggressive romanticism overwhel— OH, finally, goddammit”.

You watched the triumphant grimace appearing on his face while adding three packets to the card, trying to glance at what else he had bought with not much success.

“Okay, good… 'M gonna pay, run away and never come back to this place. See you in a minute, doll”.

“Buck”. You called his name when he was about to hang up, not being able to hold back another giggle when you saw his expression turning into pure horror, hoping you didn't ask him for anything else from there. “I love you…”

“I love you too. More than anything. 'M gonna take care of you today, 'kay? Don't you worry, your soldier's comen'”.

You lied down on the sofa after finishing dinner and Bucky cleaned the kitchen, to cuddle, lacing your legs and arms together under your blanket. You felt much better than that morning. You took a warm bath, your pills, a long nap, and filled your stomach with all the things he bought for you —yet having your hot raccoon under your shirt, well pressed to your abdomen. You felt better than in heaven, receiving tender kisses from your boyfriend to any part of your body he had access to, putting more effort and love whenever he could reach your lips from behind.

Bucky was swept off his feet for you, it was something undeniable. You were his anchor, keeping him afloat twenty-four seven. And taking care of you as part of his nature, always feeling that necessity, that urgency for making you feel happy, loved, satisfied in any kind of way. You were his whole life. So, when it came to you, anything was insufficient for him.

Turning around under his firm, warm and fond embrace, you brought your lips to his. It was an ephemeral touch that caused him to close his eyes and sigh completely in love, feeling his heart racing from one second to another under your palm rested on his chest. Your left made his way to the back of his head as soon as Bucky parted your mouth in such a slow-motion to slide his tongue, looking for yours, gently caressing it. Your boyfriend pressed you a little more closely, as if it was possible, letting you almost lie on top of him. There weren't any sexual intentions hidden behind that kiss, just wanting to show him how much you appreciate any effort he did for you.

Both of you ended up breathing through your nostrils, not wanting to pause your session of makeout in the gloomy of your living room. He lived for those long, long kisses, only worrying about tasting your saliva, biting your lips, and playing with your tongue. And, God, Bucky was an expert, causing you soft goosebumps whenever he caressed your back or arms so lovingly that melted your heart completely.

“Thank you”. You whispered as you could, stroking his weak spot beneath his ear with your thumb.

He couldn't help but purr delighted on your mouth, feeling a smile curving up to his lips as he got comfier under your weight after positioning you between his legs, using you as his favorite personal blanket.

“I love you, Buck… So much I can't explain”.

“Try it, darlin'. You have a whole life to bear me”.

“What a nightmare”. You giggled, placing a smooch on top of his nose.

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[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt~ hoping you'll like it ♥️

Things between the Nie brothers are not always nice and happy, they fight, just like any other pair of brothers, and sometimes things are said, sometimes these things are heavy and painful. Sometimes they're said in the wrong moment (maybe at the eve of a battle? Sunshot campaign?) and huaisang doesn't know what to do with the broken look his brother gives him before leaving the unclean realm. Because what if he doesn't return? What if the last thing he said to him was how much he hated the man he became?

Labyrinth - ao3

“But I didn’t mean to wish him away!” Nie Huaisang cried out.

“That’s really too bad,” the goblin king said, looking pleasant and humble and charming the way he always did, even in his cape of glittering gold and high-browed hat. “I wish there was something I could do for you, but the rules are the rules. You wished him away, and I took him.”

“Aren’t you supposed to only take babies?” Nie Huaisang demanded.

“Your brother’s enough of a crybaby to count, it’s close enough.”

“It is not!” Nie Huaisang wrung his hands. “You don’t understand, the last thing I said to him was that I hated him! Meng Yao, please!”

“It’s Jin Guangyao,” the goblin king corrected. His smile looked a bit strained. “Listen, do you think I’m happy about this? He’s my sworn brother! I’m only doing what I have to –”

“Oh, save it for Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang growled. “Show me the labyrinth already.”

“You’re going to face the labyrinth,” the goblin king said. His voice was very polite, and yet still expressed significant doubt. “You.”

“Yeah, me!”

“You remember that it goes ‘through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered’, right? Not ‘through a nice teacher and a forgiving grading system’?”

“Yeah, well, your father is a fragging aardvark. Let me at the labyrinth already!”

-

“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

The life-sized animated puppet blinked at him. “You – don’t want my help?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“You haven’t even gotten into the labyrinth yet!”

“It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t have a chance to get in,” Nie Huaisang said, patting around his sleeve and pulling out a fan. “So I’m just going to walk over and beat at the wall till something happens.”

The puppet followed him, staring blankly. Quite a change from his original apologetic ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy with my own things, I really can’t help you, also it’s too dangerous and you shouldn’t go’ response.

“You were blackmailing me to help you just a moment ago,” the puppet said after a little. “Don’t you need a guide?”

“Listen, I’m bad at memorizing things and I’m a little useless, but I’m not actually dumb,” Nie Huaisang said, fanning himself. “Jin Guangyao is a demon of the mind above all else, and the labyrinth is supposed to be ‘fair’ – which means, more than likely, that the labyrinth is a reflection of the subconscious, specially tailored to each person’s strengths and weaknesses. And that means that you, who sound exactly like Lan Xichen, are almost certainly a set-up sent by Jin Guangyao to ‘reluctantly’ aid me and then betray me.”

“Uh,” Lan Xichen-the-puppet said. “My name’s Hoggle, actually.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, er-ge…A-ha!” Nie Huaisang beamed at the gates that automatically opened. “Perfect!”

-

“Oh, don’t go that way,” the worm said. “Never go that way. And are you sure you don’t want to come in for a cup of tea?”

“No time,” Nie Huaisang said. “Thanks a lot – wait.”

The worm blinked at him.

“You’re a pretty attractive worm, in a slimy sort of way,” Nie Huaisang said, frowning at him.

The worm blinked again. “Why, thanks!”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Is your name Su She, by chance?”

“Definitely not!”

“Mm. Oddly vehement of you. Never mind. Just, quick, could you tell me exactly why do I not want to go that way?”

-

“I don’t suppose straight ahead is an option?”

The hands-faces stared at him.

“I’m just saying, I feel like most of my problems so far have come from the fact that I decided to accept the whole concept of turns. It seems like a mistake.”

“…it’s a labyrinth,” another set of the hands said. “You have to make turns!”

Nie Huaisang shook his head mournfully. “I should’ve brought Baxia or something and just – ZIP. Gone straight through. You know what I mean?”

“I’m dropping you in the oubliette regardless of your decision,” the first set of the hands said. It sounded a bit like Sect Leader Yao. “Just so you know.”

“My life is so hard,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “So hard! Do you know what it’s like to be overlooked by everyone? Do you know how hard I have to work at being this useless?”

“Drop him,” the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Ouyang said, and the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Yao said, “Yes. Now!”

Down Nie Huaisang went.

-

“I can take you back to the beginning of the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen offered.

“What, and waste all that time? I have a time limit, er-ge!”

“It’s better than being stuck in an oubliette. That’s where they put people to forget about them, you know.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes filled with tears. “You want to forget me, er-ge? You think I’m useless, don’t you? A good-for-nothing, who’ll never amount to anything –”

“Please don’t cry.”

“ER-GE! WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME!”

“Please stop crying!”

-

“So what’s the point of you?” Nie Huaisang asked the Wise Man with the Talking Hat.

“Not everyone exists to contribute to your storyline,” the Talking Hat snapped at him. “Some of us’ve got our own problems. Now hand over the candy!”

“Don’t be mean,” the Wise Man said. He had a white cloth over his eyes, and was smiling like he found the hat funny.

“Awww, but daozhang…!”

“Different plotline entirely, I guess,” Nie Huaisang decided. “Probably just here as a foil. Shall we keep going, er-ge?”

“I can’t believe you scammed me to get out of the oubliette,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “I can’t believe…”

-

“Oh, leave him alone, he’s just sensitive!” Nie Huaisang snapped.

“Am not!” the upside-down creature snarled, curled up on itself and trying to hide from all those that had been hitting him. Its fur was a vivid sort of purple. “Go away!”

“Don’t you have some sort of special power to help you here,” Nie Huaisang asked him as he tried to get him down before the goblins came back with weapons. “Rocks, maybe?”

“…lightning?”

“Well then get to it, will you?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “Wait. Lightning, constantly being tormented, terrible at communication, and purple? You’re Jiang Cheng, aren’t you?”

“…maybe.”

“Well then get down faster! I need to copy someone’s notes here!”

-

“Leave me aloooooooone!” Nie Huaisang howled, running away from the measuring snake.

-

“Wow,” Lan Xichen said, holding his cheek. “You kissed me.”

“You saved me from the snakes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Can we focus on how we’re in this awful stinking bog?”

“It’s not that bad!” a voice piped up. “I don’t smell anything!”

Nie Huaisang turned to stare, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “I bet the total absence of a sense of smell helps when you eat spicy food, Wei-xiong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with spicy food!”

“You’re short,” Nie Huaisang informed the small goblin-like creature with the big grin and the red ribbon in its hair. It looked vaguely fox-like, or possibly like certain large breeds of rabbit.

“Why you..!” Wei Wuxian crossed his furry little paws over his chest. “Just for that, I’m not going to help you.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Really. That’s awful…oh no! A dog!”

Wei Wuxian jumped high into the air. “A dog?! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Save me!”

Much to Nie Huaisang’s surprise, a furry dog immediately darted out of nowhere – only Wei Wuxian didn’t seem afraid of it, but rather hid behind it, teeth chattering.

Truly, Nie Huaisang reflected, the eyes of love are blind.

“I think the ‘dog’ is gone now,” he said. “Your brave and noble Lan Wangji must’ve scared him away.”

Wei Wuxian’s head popped out from behind dog-Wangji. “Well, Lan Zhan is really cool…hey. Are you trying to manipulate me?”

“Is it working?”

“No!”

“So you won’t help me?”

“No!”

“Not even if it means you get to figure out a really tricky puzzle?”

“No – wait. A puzzle?”

“I can’t believe this is going to work,” Lan Xichen muttered from behind Nie Huaisang. “I mean, I can. But also…Wangji…I love you, but you could do so much better than this.”

-

“Ugh,” Nie Huaisang said. “I’m so thirsty.”

“Have some Emperor’s Smile,” Lan Xichen said, offering a jar.

“Amazing,” Nie Huaisang said, accepting it and taking a swing. “I had my doubts, you know, but you’re actually good for something after all, er-ge –”

-

The golden bird was Nie Huaisang’s favorite.

He’d worked so hard to bring it back to his aviary – it couldn’t be forced, he knew; it would play along at first but in the end it would turn on you and bite you. It had to be coaxed with gentleness and kindness, approached indirectly so as not to spook it, convince it that you really did mean well – that you were harmless, that it had no reason to fear you. It was arrogant, too, proud of its shining feathers and ashamed of the brown plumage of its chick days, which still remained visible on its tender underbelly. Ironically, that was Nie Huaisang’s favorite part of it, the soft and gentle part; it might not be as pretty as the gold, but it felt more genuine.

Nie Huaisang smiled as he brushed the beautiful feathers, and the golden bird allowed him. He felt cherished, treasured. So what if he had to hide all the sharp parts of himself to get this close?

It was fine. He didn’t like to be sharp.

He wanted to be soft. Soft and gentle, careless and free, relaxed and without effort, good for nothing –

Wait.

No!

-

“It’s all junk,” Nie Huaisang hissed at the pile of burning fans, tears in his eyes. “I want my da-ge!”

-

“You’re all right!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, helping pulled Nie Huaisang up.

“Huaisang-xiong,” Jiang Cheng said, looking relieved. “You’re back.”

“We have to go to the temple beyond the Goblin City,” Nie Huaisang said, teeth gritted together. “We have to. I won’t let that bastard…we’re going to go there and throw all his damned tricks right in his face!”

“Just us?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I mean, I’m awesome, Lan Zhan is fantastic, and of course Jiang Cheng is great, too, but…uh…there’s a lot of goblins in the city.”

“We’ll sneak in,” Nie Huaisang said. “He thinks he’s sidelined me entirely – he thinks I’m useless. He won’t be expecting me to get this far.”

“I can get help,” Jiang Cheng said. “I have friends.”

“…not to be rude, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said. “But – really?”

-

“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said, eyeing the pile of rocks following Jiang Cheng around, each one painted with a name. One of the names was yellow. Two were in white, with forehead ribbons. “This is fine. I feel like it says something really rude about my empathy for and interest in our junior generation, or lack thereof, but you know what? I don’t care. It’s fine.”

-

“You saved me,” Nie Huaisang said blankly, looking at Lan Xichen, who shrugged, abashed. The remains of the mechanical temple guard were scattered all over. “Over – him?”

“Huaisang –”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said, holding up his hands. “Don’t. Don’t…I don’t want to hear you talk.”

Lan Xichen’s head dropped down and he looked at the ground. “You knew from the beginning what I was like,” he murmured. “I never tried to hide it –”

“I forgive you for being what you are,” Nie Huaisang told him, and Lan Xichen looked up at him, startled and pleased. “I forgive you for not having the backbone to stand up against Jin Guangyao for me – or for da-ge. For being willfully blind for so long, for needing someone else’s proof of his ill-intentions, for always picking him first, for never trusting me…I forgive you, even if you’d never forgive me for the same.”

He dashed away the angry tears in his eyes.

“I just wish this wasn’t a fucking metaphor.”

-

Nie Huaisang left the fighting to the people who knew what to do – Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, even the rock-juniors – and went to the temple at the center of the city alone.

Some things, he knew, needed to be done alone, even if it was the type of alone when you were surrounded by other people. Even when those other people stood by his side and made him promise that if he needed them, he would only need to call. Some things…

“I want my da-ge back,” he said to the maze of stairs.

“Then go and find him,” Jin Guangyao replied, looking smug, and Nie Huaisang had to go up and down all those fucking stairs, because Jin Guangyao was nothing if not predictable with his trauma, looking all over, looking for –

Looking for pieces.

“It’s just a metaphor,” he whispered to himself, ignoring how tears were streaming down his face. “It’s just – I need to put him back together, it’s fine. I’m not too late – I’m not too late –”

-

Jin Guangyao held Nie Mingjue’s head in his hands, blinded and gagged and bound with talismans, pulled out of whatever oubliette he'd shoved it into to forget about what he'd done. “Beware, Huaisang,” he said, still smiling. Always smiling. “I’ve been generous up until now, but I can be cruel.”

Nie Huaisang laughed, scoffing. “Generous? What have you done for me that’s generous?”

“Everything! Everything you’ve wanted, I’ve done – I cared for you, I gave you attention, I got you out of work, doing your schoolwork for you and coming up with excuses to get you out of saber training. I gave you presents, fans and pretty clothing, and when that brute of a brother of yours tried to take them from you, I rescued you. And then I even managed your sect for you, answered all of your questions, any time you had – Huaisang, I’m exhausted trying to live up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth. “Half of those are burdens that only fell on me because of you. Why should it matter to me that cleaning up your own mess and satisfying your own guilt is hard? Why should I pay such a price when all I wanted was to be your friend? When all da-ge wanted was to be your friend? How dare you, Meng Yao!”

“Huaisang…” Jin Guangyao shook his head mournfully. “Huaisang, the last step here is to say the words to break the spell. But you were never good at memorization, were you?”

Nie Huaisang bit his lip until he drew blood.

“Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered,” he said. “I have fought my way here to the temple beyond the goblin city –”

“Huaisang, stop! Look at what you’re risking here. You know how everyone loves me – do you think anyone will forgive you for taking me down, for tricking them all? You’ll be all alone!”

I already am, Nie Huaisang thought.

“My will is as strong as yours,” he said. “And my kingdom is as great…”

His voice trailed off.

“I ask for so little,” Jin Guangyao said beseechingly, convincingly, looking just like he always did, like the man who'd been their friend. “Just let me fool you, and you can have anything you want. No responsibilities, no stress, a life of your own. You can even have Lan Xichen, if that’s what you want…”

What’s the last line, Nie Huaisang thought, hating himself for being such a poor student, for cramming things into his mind without any order, for never being able to retain a single drop of it no matter how hard he tried. What is it? Why can’t I ever remember?

“It’d be so easy,” Jin Guangyao crooned. “Much easier than this. Just fear me, love me, believe me, and I’ll be your slave.”

Sharp teeth in a false smile.

Nie Huaisang shook in terror. He couldn’t – his da-ge needed him – he couldn’t be afraid, couldn’t be a coward, couldn’t be good-for-nothing – couldn’t let Jin Guangyao win – couldn’t let him –

That was it.

Nie Huaisang raised his head until his eyes met his enemy’s.

Sensing something wrong, Jin Guangyao’s eternal smile dimmed, and he began to step forward, reaching out, but it was too late.

“You have no power over me,” Nie Huaisang declared, and the world within a world collapsed.

-

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes.

-

Nie Huaisang sat in his desk in the Unclean Realm, trying to amuse himself by trying to figure out what exactly he’d eaten the night before that had given him such bizarre dreams. It was not successful, on account of him being alone.

Alone, just as he had been every night, and every day as well, since the success of his scheme at the Guanyin Temple.

Just as the dream-Jin Guangyao had threatened.

It wasn’t that Nie Huaisang regretted what he had done – the dream was clear enough about that; he’d do it all again in a heartbeat if he had to. But in the dream he’d been working alongside his former friends, with Lan Xichen betraying but then returning to him, with Wei Wuxian dragging Lan Wangji around, with stone-faced Jiang Cheng and the rather interchangeable junior squad behind him…and in his dream, in the end, they’d let him go to take his revenge, telling him that if he needed them for any reason, he could just call.

Just call, and they’d come back to him. Instead of turning from him in disgust, they’d stand by his side…

“Stupid subconscious,” Nie Huaisang mumbled to himself. “What do you expect? That I'd write to them and say ‘for no real reason at all, I find that I rather need you’?”

Silence answered him.

“Well, I do,” he said with a sigh, putting his chin on his hands. “Does that make you happy? I do need you.”

“You do?” Wei Wuxian’s voice rang out, and Nie Huaisang jumped nearly out of his skin. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Nie Huaisang turned, staring: it was Wei Wuxian at the door, the human version of him, and of course there was Lan Wangji right before him, and Jiang Cheng, and the (still mostly interchangeable) juniors, and – and even Lan Xichen, who Nie Huaisang was sure had gone into seclusion with no intent to leave.

“What are you doing here?” Nie Huaisang squeaked. And why hadn’t any of his sect disciples warned him?

“We just bullied our way though the door before anyone could stop us,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully, answering the unspoken question first. “As for the rest – it turns out that I had the strangest dream the other night, really, truly bizarre, and obviously I had to tell Lan Zhan all about it, except it turned out he had a strange dream too.”

Nie Huaisang’s jaw dropped. “But –”

“I felt da-ge’s qi woven into the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen said quietly. “I thought it’d have long ago dissipated or been locked away, but – it was there, in every stone, in every turn. Every obstacle that didn’t really hurt you, every goblin that was more silly than scary…he was there. It was unmistakable.”

Nie Huaisang swallowed. The story of the labyrinth, baby-stealing wish-granting goblin king and all, had been one that Nie Mingjue had told him as a bedtime story, when he'd been a child in need of comfort; he hadn’t thought of it in years before last night. “But…why…?”

“Because Chifeng-zun has a demented sense of humor?” Jiang Cheng suggested, looking irritated.

“Jiujiu means that he hasn’t had that much fun in years, and also that you should throw a party,” Jin Ling said. “You are hosting all three of the sect leaders of all the other Great Sects. Also, why were we rocks?”

“Uh, no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “Da-ge’s weird sense of humor, no doubt! Anyway, did you say party? I can do a party!”

He rushed out of the room, calling for his servants, calling for them to bring food and wine and tea, and as he did, he looked out of the window – a golden bird was flying away, looking hunted as if something was chasing it, and even as he watched, it crossed the borders of the Unclean Realm and suddenly dissolved into a fizzle of golden dust.

Nie Huaisang put his hand on the stone wall, and felt a familiar echo.

A very familiar echo.

“Oh,” he said, to his servants, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and filled with joy. “And while you’re at it, can you bring me my saber? I seem to have – misplaced it…”

[eclectickss]

Make Me Feel Special (1/2)

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Warnings: Mommy issues/kink, sexual implications, major age gap (reader is of age)

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Word Count: 3K?

Link to Part 2

A/N: Not grammar checked at all! A blurb gone big!(still at writers block on PGATW) But requests are open! I’ve never done one before but i’m willing to try. <3

-

-

-

You entered the apartment and placed your keys in the dish and jacket on it’s hook, making your way into the kitchen to place your to-go food in the fridge. Jane sat at the island on the computer you shared, and you smiled.

“Hey, I picked up sandwiches for dinner. Hope that’s cool.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Your best friend didn’t look up, but it didn’t really bother you. Well, she was your only friend, but still.

You and Jane had been sharing the apartment for years now, The two of you working a good job to afford it and making a livable income. You had been close since high-school, due to your similar social status, but beyond the two of you, nobody was too good at making friends.

From what she had told you, Jane’s mom wasn’t around much when she was growing up. Jane was a teen pregnancy, and ever since she was born, her mom made no time for her daughter. Agatha, was her name.

Agatha came from a wealthy family, though. Her parents (Jane’s grandparents) wouldn’t allow her to use the family money for her child, much less anything else. She struggled with Jane, and therefore the two of them were ever close.

Agatha’s parents died when Jane was in high-school, so her mom inherited their wealth, but their relationship was past salvageable. At least in Jane’s eyes, it was.

Jane was always telling you about how bad of a mom Agatha was and about how you were lucky that you didn’t have to deal with someone like her. Jane didn’t understand though. You would had given anything to have someone like Agatha. Even if she wasn’t around to much, it was still better than nobody at all.

-

-

-

You were now setting the table for two as you pulled the sandwiches out of the fridge, also finding some strawberries to place at the table. You now were looking through the pantry for chips when you heard a knock at the door and Jane moving around to answer it.

“Mom?!” You heard at the door while you still had your head buried in the pantry. Your eyes widened at the name, never expecting to hear it in your life (in that context, at least). You thought Agatha was out of the picture. “What are you doing here?” You stayed silent as you listened from around the corner.

“Well, I think it’s long overdue that we had a talk, Jane, honey.” She sounded a little more raspy than you were expecting, but that doesn’t say much about someone who used to be an addict.

“We don’t do that, Mom. Anyways, now isn’t a good time.” You heard your friend sigh. The woman was your literal mother... you could at least give her five minutes, you thought.

“I want to start, honey. Please just let me in?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“C’mon, kiddo.” She begged, and you felt a little bad for how Jane was acting. You know her mom wasn’t a great person, but she was still her mom.

You never got to have one of those.

“If this is just you on another one of your sobriety stunts...”

“I’m really trying this time, Jane! I know I fucked up, baby, but please.”

“Fine.” Your friend grumbled. You heard increasing footsteps and your heart raced as you were about to meet the source of Jane’s complaints and drama.

You hurried to sit at the kitchen counter before the two women caught you snooping, but your gaze snaps up just in time to see Agatha Harkness walk into the room.

Jane might have always mentioned that her mother was any and all variations of a bitch, but she failed to mention how attractive the woman was. Her messy brown hair sat on top of an old purple cardigan and worn out jeans, followed by a pair of well-used slip-on shoes. The look together was not extremely flattering, but Agatha somehow pulled it together in a way that made your stomach turn. Your eyes raked her down, but you think she caught you when you met her gaze again. She smirked softly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had guests!” She says as her own eyes follow your figure, and you wonder if she’s just doing it to mock you or flatter you. She looks back up with a glimmer in her eye, and you decide on the latter option. Your face goes red, but you try and brush her actions off, not wanting to mistake it for anything else.

“Didn’t I say that this was a bad time?” Jane grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Harkness. My name is YN.” You smiled as you held out your hand.

“Call me Agatha, darling.” She stared into your eyes. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Jane’s friends.” You panic under her gaze.

“We were just about to sit down for dinner, if you want to join us. We don’t have any food for you, but-“

“Oh, thank you... I was hoping I could talk to Jane in private, though.” She walked over to the table and took a seat.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to YN, too.” The two of you joined Agatha at the table.

A long moment of awkward silence passsed between the three of you before your guest finally spoke up.

“I want you in my life, Jane. For real this time.”

Nobody says anything, and dishes stop clattering.

“I know I shoulda done this earlier... hell, I shoulda done this when I got claim to my parent’s money, but I want to look after you. I never got the chance to do that when you were young... cause of all the drinking and working... but I can do that now. I’m ready.”

Jane sat with her mouth open and a half eaten sandwich forgotten on her plate.

“No, Mom, you shoulda done this from the moment I was conceived. You don’t get a second chance with me. I’m not giving you a second chance, or a third or a fourth or whatever number you wanna give yourself. You wanna know why? It’s because I already did that. And you let me down every single time.”

Agatha looked a little speechless.

“Fine, then.” She sighed. “I won’t bother you again.” But it hurt you to watch a daughter turn away her mother, when that was an opportunity that you wanted so badly. “Is it alright if I stay the night, though? It’s a long drive back to my place.”

Jane rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother was being dramatic, but didn’t want to put up with any more of her antics. “I better not see you in the morning. YN can get blankets for the couch.”

-

-

-

“Hey, Jane,” You sighed as you entered her room.

“Hey, YN. I’m sorry you had to deal with the shit show that is my mother. I can’t believe she just walked in here and expected me to accept her pathetic invitation.”

“No, it’s ok. She’s not that bad with me.”

“Well she just met you. I just don’t understand why she thought showing up unannounced would magically make me want a mother again. It’s fucked up.” Jane said, but you couldn’t sit there and watch her tear down something that you wish you had.

“Yeah,” you mumbled and rushed out of her room before she could say anything else.

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, then headed over to the sink for some tap water. The cool liquid rushed down your throat as you held down your tears, thankful that nobody was around.

“Hey, Honey,”

Shit. You forgot that Agatha was on the couch.

You turn around to see her meeting your gaze, although her eyes quickly found the way to the rest of your body.

“You doing alright, babygirl?” The nickname made you heat up. She spoke with concern and care; something that Jane chose to ignore, which made you feel bad for Agatha. You wish that Jane wouldn’t take for granted what her mother was trying to offer her.

“Uh... yeah... I guess.” You sigh, hopping up to sit on the counter as you watch the other woman fill her own glass at the sink. “Jane is just... being a little hard right now.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to lose the trust of your friend but also wanting to gain the trust of another.

“What do you mean?” You realize the situation you have put yourself in.

“It’s just... I didn’t have a mom at all growing up. Or a dad. I had my shitty uncle... until he tossed me into the foster system. I had it real rough... and it still kinda is... but Jane has been helping. That’s why we’re friends at least. She might view me as a charity project, but i’m desperate, I guess.”

“What does all of this have to do with Jane being hard, hon?” She leaned onto the counter across from you.

“She didn’t really have a mom, either... growing up. No offense.”

Agatha shrugged. “I know.”

“But now that she’s given an opportunity to have one, she turns it down... and it makes me jealous. Mad. Angry.” You pause. “I know I’ll never get the chance at a mom, but she has one. And fuck, I would give so much to have that.”

“To have someone like me? A recovering drunk who treated their teen pregnancy like a joke?”Agatha sighed into her hands, but her words meant so much more to you than she may ever know.

“Yeah. To have someone like you. Someone who cares.” At that, she looked up with a new light in her eyes, but you don’t meet her gaze. You don’t want her to see the blush or desire written on your face, so instead, you pull a cigarette out from your jacket pocket.

She watches you as you hop down from the counter to get the lighter out of the junk drawer, paying attention to the way your body moves. You notice how her eyes follow you, but you don’t call her out on it, knowing you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

“You want a hit?” You lift your eyebrow as you raise the smoke to meet her gaze. A glint of humor is caught on her face, and you smirk.

“Sure... why not.” She says as you join her in leaning up against the counter. You bring the cigarette up to your mouth and click the lighter.

“So,” Agatha starts again, both of you a few puffs in. “How did you end up here with Jane?”

“Uhh... we met senior year of high-school. I was fucked up. Shit grades. Wasn’t going to graduate. Drug money to pay off... no job. Jane used your money to pay off my debt. She found me a job. Tutored me. Like I said, I felt like a charity project. But at least I graduated. We both work now and pay for this place together. Maybe it’s not great but we’re both better off than we were a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t she accept anything I tried to give her? Did she tell you?” Agatha was prying, but you didn’t mind.

“You mean after high-school? She didn’t want any help from you. In her words exactly... ‘She wasn’t there for me for the first 18 years of my life, so why should she help out now...’”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I didn’t grow up poor, Agatha. I grew up with nothing. I would have taken any of your offers in a heartbeat, no matter how guilty they made me feel.”

“Good girl.” She nearly whispers, and you turned to face her, but you couldn’t make anything out of the expression written on her face. Your own skin was hot and something was burning in your core, and you didn’t know what to think.

“I’m sorry... what did you just say?” You watched as she put the cigarette out, now giving you her undivided attention.

“So tell me, honey, do you have a boyfriend? I’m assuming a pretty thing like you would have one. Tell me about him.” Part of you wondered where this conversation was going, but the other part assumed that she already knew which direction you leaned in.

“Uhh... not my type.” You stared at her with curiosity.

“So you got a girlfriend, then?” Her new confidence shocked you a little bit.

“Uhh... no.” You tilted your head, and she seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“Good girl.” Your mouth was dry. “You see, mommy doesn’t want you having a girlfriend... no, she wants you all to herself.”

Your eyes widen in shock, but your core aches and cheeks burn. You stare at the woman next to you as a hand slides onto your thigh.

“Oh come on, darling. You said you wanted a mommy, baby. I wanna take care of you. I see the way you look at me. Don’t deny you want me too.” She spins around and pins you to the counter, and you audibly gulp.

“But- Jane.” You whine, already being driven crazy by the proximity of Agatha’s body.

“Jane is kicking me out, baby girl. And you can come live with me. Mommy has a pretty house, honey. I can feed you, clothe you... make you feel good. I can make you feel special.” And God, your soul was ready to leave your body. You wanted this. You could hardly think as her soft lips grazed over the skin on your neck, and a soft moan escaped your throat. Her tongue and teeth pulled at the skin just below your ear, trying to pull a response out of you.

“Mom!” The both of you jumped at the third voice in the room. The two of you turn to Jane in shock. “What the FUCK are you doing!” She rushed over to the two of you, pulling Agatha off of your body. “You can’t just come into my life and try to fuck my friends after someone rejects you!” She pushes her mom back and turns to you.

“Oh my god, YN, are you ok? I cannot believe that she tried to touch you. God, that makes me sick.” She hugged you, but you still couldn’t say anything.

“Jane, honey, you don’t know-“

“Shut up! I can’t even look at you! Get out of my house, mom. I never want to see you again.” Jane’s face turned red with anger.

“Honey-“ Agatha met eyes with you, but you didn’t know what to do.

“Leave! Now.” She seethed and stomped back to the bedroom, expecting Agatha to be gone when she got back.

The woman in front of you moved silently while you still processed what just happened. When she returned with her belongings, she gave you a note, but headed out without saying a word.

After a few minutes, you finally looked at the piece of paper in hand.

If you ever make up your mind...

1286 Lincoln St NW

(673) 867-5309

-Agatha

-

-

-

“YN, are you sure you’re alright? I really never would have expected my mom to touch you or even make you feel uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” Jane sighed as she sat on the bed.

“I’m fine, J. You don’t have to apologize on her behalf.” You replied, sitting on the chair opposite her.

“I mean what even happened. Why did she do that?”

“Umm... I don’t know. We were just talking and then she started that.”

“What we’re you talking about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining how we met.” You tentatively answered.

“YN you didn’t have to tell her that. I know it’s personal for you, I can’t believe she forced you to talk about it.

“I uhh- actually didn’t mind. I wasn’t forced.”

“Then why would you trust her with something like that? You know how she is.”

“Because...” You thought about your next words carefully. “She cares.” Jane scoffs.

“That must be a different woman we’re talking about, YN. My mom is a selfish bitch who only cares for herself.”

That tipped the iceberg for you.

“You know, Jane? I understand that you and her might never be besties like she wants you to be, but that doesn’t mean you get to fuck her over now that she’s trying.” Your friend looks up at you in shock.

“Well she fucked me over my entire life, so I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

“Because! Jane! She’s changed! It’s only right that you give her one more shot in your life!”

She took a pause.

“I’m sorry, YN, are you defending my MOM? After everything she’s done to me, and everything i’ve done for you?!”

“Yes. It is sick watching you throw something away that I can only dream of.” You spat angrily.

“Geez, YN. Just- get out of my fucking house. Keep your rent money for the month. Pack your shit and get the hell out of here.” She nearly ran out of the room.

But you weren’t surprised. In fact, you expected this the moment you chose your side.

-

-

-

The knocks resonate through the large door attached to the even larger house. Agatha has money.

You thought Jane was over exaggerating a little bit, but now you understood that she wasn’t. You sighed as your cab sped away, and now all you could do was wait.

Agatha opened the door, slightly shocked to see you, but nevertheless happy.

“Hey baby, what is it?”

You took a deep breath, taking in the sight of the woman who stood in front of you.

“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”

-

-

-

link to part 2

[hard--mode]

Here's the notes for everything that would happen up until the end of the story.... as far as I had it figured out. You'll notice things are a lot less fleshed out the later things go. That's a big reason why this never got finished. the longer I tried to keep the thing running, the more I realized I never had any idea what I wanted to actually DO with this story which made it pretty hard for me to keep up. it's hard to write a story you're trying to take seriously if all you really have are jokes, it turns out.

I haven't reread any of this or edited it at all so who knows what kind of notes I might have written in between things haha

P: so as i was saying about undyne-

C: who’s undyne?

Everyone freezes. Chara just walked right up to papyrus without being noticed. Paps freaks out for a sec before he pulls sans into a huddle. Chara frowns and tries to peek around.

~Montage of papyrus’s excitement and harder puzzles, death montage

~Junior jumble: its sudoku now

Chara’s doing puzzles and sees flowey spying. They shout him over

C: HEY! still following me, loser? Don’t you have anything better to do? (but they smile)

F: somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get killed too much out here

Flowey pops up closer to them

C: nah, I’m fine! I’ve got that reset power!

F: not for long considering how much you use it (mumbles. Rolls eyes??) (some depiction of chara dying a lot in the bg)

C: by the way…. In the ruins you were telling me to use it… care to tell me more about it since you seem to know so much?

F: I-... uh… well you already know the most of it. It just resets you back to your last SAVE point like nothing happened. Only beings with a powerful SOUL can use it, so monsters with their weak souls can’t.

Chara stops their puzzle work and sits to even the heights: Can flowers?

F: what the heck are you-... oh, no no no. I’m different.

C: so you have the power too.

F: No! I mean-, i used to before you came around. Yeah.

C: so you’ve done resets. (urging him on)

F: yep.

Chara waits a while: ...thats all you have to say?

F: yep

Travel scenes from here on out depict chara and flowey together

Gauntlet:

Flowey remarks that he doesn't remember a save point being before it. Chara goes along and gets paps’ bit. He does to activate it

C: wait this isn't for real right? U can't be srs!!!

P: yeah I am, this is hard mode!

Just show chara repeatedly spawning at the save and running back in with flowey watching them

Then cut to the end chara on the other side of it panting and exhausted, papyrus shocked but also beaming

P: wow you did it!! I'm so proud of u human! I didn’t think you would actually be able to get through it--- I mean- drat! Foiled again! I'll get u one of these times!

Papyrus runs off and Chara watches him with a look of wonder in their eyes.

F: don’t get too excited. his pride is cheap, he’s proud of everyone and every thing

Chara grumbles and marches forward: whatever. I don’t hear you saying you’re proud of me, so why do I have to listen to what you have to say

F: You know, you’re gonna have to fight him soon. Didn’t sans say so? What are you going to do then, die over and over until you give up or are you going to try to murder him just like you did with Toriel? :)

C: I am not! I’m gonna talk him out of it and go right past him like everyone else. Who knows! Maybe he won’t even fight me because he’s that cool. Even if he does, he’s probably a wimp anyways.

F: I wouldn’t be so sure! I bet you don’t stand a chance.

C: shut up! Quit following me if you’re gonna be this useless.

Paps fight

As papyrus carries their body to the shed to rest. Opens on their vision returning and they see their hands hanging toward the ground.

C: why didn’t you kill me? You’re stronger than everyone else, you could easily do it. Why dont you finish me off so everyone can leave or whatever it is you need me to do? Why did you hold back?

P: OH! YOU’RE AWAKE!

C: you held back…

P: OF COURSE i DID! I COULD NEVER KILL YOU, YOU’RE MY-- I HOPE I’M NOT BEING TOO FORWARD, BUT I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MY FRIEND! AND EVEN THOUGH WE DO NEED YOUR SOUL, YOU DESERVE A FIGHTING CHANCE TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO.

Chara is too shocked and confused by the sentiment: I don’t… I don’t understand?

P: WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT A FRIEND NOT KILLING YOU? HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE ...OH! I SEE NOW! THE REASON WHY YOU CARRY YOUR KNIFE LIKE THAT. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MORE AFRAID OF US MONSTERS THAN WE COULD EVER BE OF YOU!

He sets them down in the shed on the dog bed.

P: I’M SORRY, HUMAN! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU MORE WARNING IF I HAD KNOWN HOW YOU FELT.

C: then… does that mean you’re going to let me go?

P: ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALREADY CALLED UNDYNE TO MEET ME SO SHE CAN TAKE YOU! AND YOU NEED TO REST NOW AFTER ALL THAT!

C: !! I-I don’t know who Undyne is, but I can’t do that. I’m in a hurry to get out of here.

P: HMM… IF YOU’RE IN A HURRY THEN… NO, NO YOU CAN’T! WE NEED YOUR SOUL, I CAN’T JUST LET YOU LEAVE. UNDYNE’S REALLY COOL TOO, YOU’LL LIKE HER!

C: No, I have to go.

P: AGH, WELL… I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN GET PAST ME BEFORE I CAN CATCH YOU, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO. BUT I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU!

Cut to chara walking toward waterfall, papyrus calling after them to come back and hang out sometime. They keep walking and mutter to themself: Sorry, but I’ll get out of here before that ever happens.

WATERFALL

They see monster kid and side eye sans as they charge in, hurriedly.

Chara keeps flowey around and asks him to read the words for him. FLowey says it’s not important at all to anything they’re doing. It’s just monster history junk that means nothing if chara’s trying to leave. Chara’s like shut up cmon help me out maybe there's clues. FLowey reads some history stuff in waterfall treating it like shit they already know

F: why do you care about all this garbage anyway?

C: I dunno, I guess it just sounds familiar. Like a story I heard a long time ago.

Chara stops suddenly and checks their phone. Flowey asks what’s up

C: i thought it rang… you didn’t hear-

The phone starts ringing. Papyrus is cheerfully on the other end and they walk and talk.

He tells them about how he heard so many horrible things about humans and the surface but chara was much nicer than he ever expected. Chara asks where he heard that and he says a flower told him. Chara covers the receiver and looks around for flowey, suspicions of him raised.

Montage w monster kid and umbrella

Chara falls from undyne’s spear attack and wakes up in the trash with flowey over them.

F: hey, wake up. I can tell you’re not dead so hurry up and get moving.

Chara’s kind of bummed: she killed me four times back there. And it wasn’t even a fight. I couldn’t talk her down or… i couldn’t even talk to her, I could barely see her.

F: what, are you giving up or something? You know she can kill you as much as she wants and you aren’t gonna die.

C: I know that! I know this is just like a game where you can keep on going but… it hurts. And it’s exhausting.

F: what will you do then? Sit here in this trash and do nothing?

C: *sigh* no. I’m just feeling down in the dumps.

They smile and get up.

As they’re walking out, they hear a click and someone to tell them to “hold it”

Mad dummys behind them and she just has a gun. Pointed directly at chara. She starts on her thing about the cousin and then blook saves the day.

Chara meets up with blook again. They go to where the snail races used to be. It’s all busted and unused

C: what’s this supposed to be…?

B: oh…. this used to be a snail farm…. And this was a race course…. For snails…. But a long time ago people started to call the races “insensitive” so we had to close them…. Sorry you can’t have any fun racing snails…

C: why was it insensitive…?

B: ...i’d… rather not talk about it………..

Timeskip

C: hey flowey! What’s up with this place and snails?

F:...i wouldnt know.

montage

After waterfall where undyne says how many souls they have

C: flowey… if they have 6 human souls, that means 6 others fell down and died here, so…

F: what?

C: i just- i mean you were the first one i met-

F: no, no, no, ive never killed anyone. You’re the only human i’ve seen since i woke up

Chara relaxes: ok. So you dont know anything about them.

F: no. i heard some things from toriel, not much. It’s too late to try asking her, but she’s seen all of them. She was there at the beginning even.

C: the beginning?

F: you know…. When humans started falling down here and monsters started killing them.

Chara goes silent in thought: wait… how… long has this been going on? How old is toriel?

F: dunno

Chara after having a rough time: it’s hard, but no matter what happens i can just keep trying. I’ll make it out of this! You believe in me right, flowey?

F: no i think you should give up.

Page/chapter ends there. Next is chara going up to fight undyne.

Open on a riff on the “long ago” cutscene that chara cuts off by saying they already know this story

Undyne screams SHUT UP!!! I’m doing my HEROIC MONOLOGUE!! Whatever, I bet you haven’t heard the part about the King and Queen’s human child who died of illness and their other son who was killed by the humans when he tried to return their body to the surface?!

C: No I think I heard that one too? Why are you telling me all this anyways??

U: because this is an UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE!! NYAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Chara’s getting their ass beat and on low hp: I’ll die in a hit or two. But that’s fine because I’ll just start this over. I’ll start from… where was the last save point…

A vision of them with flowey. Their eyes go red and the flashback cuts in between shots of them running from undyne

F: I think you should give up

Ch: what… give up?? I thought you were on my side with all the telling me to keep going and-and the hanging out with me?!

F: as if you had any other choice but to keep going! We both know you don’t.

C: so you’ve just been following this whole time waiting for me to give up and die, huh?! Why, are you trying to steal my soul just like everybody else?!?

F: it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re going to die! And die and die and die! You can reset as much as you want, it won’t change that! So what if I am waiting for you to give up? You’re the last thing keeping monsters trapped down here. If you give up, you’ll give everyone what they want!

C: I thought you wanted to help me?! I thought you were my friend!

F: I would never be friends with a human! You’re all nothing but killing machines!

C: I haven’t killed anyone!

F: You killed Toriel! No number of resets can change what you did! You’re a horrible, disgusting human just like all the others and everyone would be happier if you were dead!

Flowey could say something about dying down here is better than their inevitable death on the surface. Their death would at least be worth something. Mean something

Chara escapes the fight, undyne collapses, and they walk away. they tell themselves they won’t give up. They don’t need help, especially not from that dumb flower. They’ll live to spite him and everyone else who tries to kill them

Chara goes in and meets alphys and overall is p meh abt it bc bad mood. Alphys helping them through the underground makes them talk to themselves about how they dont need flowey, they can do this themself. Friends are no good.

hotland is as normal. probably figure out some indication of things not right. make the game seem broken bc they arent supposed to get so far like this

Chara meets with sans at mtt resort for food reluctantly. Lets him say his piece. After he’s done threatening to kill them chara says to his face that they really don’t like him.

Need some hubbub about them having to kill asgore to get out. Theyll be like yeah I know that (somehow)... oh but I need a plan… how will i come up with a plan..

Flowey finally appears to chara again just before they get to new home and tries to talk them out of leaving. Disparaging the surface and telling them they could live happily down here. Chara says no, it’s too hard because people are constantly hunting them down and being the last soul, no ones going to stop that. He says that he’s sorry for the way he was before

Chara smiles back, and then looks away: What you said before… about.. My inevitable death on the surface…

F: that was… don’t worry about that.

C: are you afraid of it?

F: well- yeah, it’s a dangerous place. Everyone knows that.

C: I’ve died a lot more times down here than I ever did up there.

A beat

C: you go back and forth a lot between talking about how I should stay down here because it’s better… but also if I die down here… everyone gets to go free… to the horrible, awful surface.

F: uh,, did I say all that…? I may have contradicted myself a little… I guess… in the end I just wanted an excuse for you to stay around. I really don’t want you to die.

C: so you did see me as a friend after all?

F: well…you reminded me of someone who was my friend. I wish we could have been friends.

C: Do you think… If I reset back to the beginning and did this again, if I said the right things… we could have been?

F: No… You could be as nice to me or as mean to me as you want. No matter how many times you reset, some things never change.

C: ...Did you ever… have to reset because you killed someone?

F: ……….once… and then I never reset ever again. The power to reset… makes you do bad things. It’s wrong. I had to stop because i knew… I’d make someone really upset if I kept messing around.

C: well, in that case… I guess I’ll just have to get the rest of the way out of here without any resets!

Flowey smiles: I dunno, keep one or two under your belt. You’re a pretty big klutz.

C: Thanks for helping me out of here, flowey. Even if you just did it because you were begged.

Can you imagine a more paranoid flowey who is less interested in attacking you and regaining the reset ability, but is pleased af that you have the reset ability because that means you can't die, and instead he spends the entire game trying to convince you that humanity is hopeless. That there is nothing on the surface world returning to. That it's safer, down here.

he's part of the reason why things are so much harder

he's the one that starts the rumors about the dangers of teh surface world

there's a definite sense of paranoia all across the board

When they approach new home, flowey appears one last time and grabs chara by the hand, telling them not to go. They can live in the underground, they’ve made a lot of friends here. Chara says that they have to go, they’ll find a way to get out without killing asgore. Flowey says that he tried to stop them, this is as far as he’ll go. This is goodbye. They bid their farewells and chara goes along, but flowey secretly follows them, much less detectable than ever before. It’s revealed when he’s hiding with the flowers.

Chara walks up to new home, regarding it as a vaguely familiar sight. They walk down the many halls knowing exactly where to go. The monsters speak as they go through the motions. They find a cookbook in the kitchen with a page for snail pie missing. Chara mumbles about already knowing the story and that they should all shut up. They walk more quickly to stay ahead of them. Then one mentions the snail pie and chara stops dead in their tracks. No that’s not how it happened- they stop, and take back off.

They are stopped by sans in the judgement hall, glaring at him.

S: well I had a whole speech to give ya, but you look like you’re in a hurry. You’re a weird kid, but you’re fine. The king’s up ahead.

OTHER alternative: chara realizes something’s wrong and runs back to get everyone, probably threatening to kill asgore to convince them to come quickly. Sans is avoided due to the mob approaching behind them “I heard the word that you’re on your way to kill the king.” c: are you here to stop me? “Nah. But you’d better have a good plan to back yourself up, kid. King’s up ahead”

They run up to asgore, no nonsense. Some time is taken to progress things. As they leave the throne room, flowey watches from the flowers, chara looks back to confirm he’s there.

Asgore draws up the souls, the fight is about to engage, before he can smash “MERCY” chara yells: ASRIEL. Get the souls.

Everything stops. Flowey is behind them, stunned and confused. Chara turns and asks him what he’s waiting for. Hurry up and take the souls before everyone else gets here. Nearly every last monster is coming, if he can become godlike and absorb them, it will be enough strength to break the barrier.

Flowey is confused, how do they know that? Chara tells him he did it before. Doesn’t he remember? Doesn’t he remember them?

Either flowey does it and something happens, or flowey waits too long and chaos erupts which gets them killed, and then chara and flowey have to meet up and workshop.

Final fight:

He probably says some shit about frisk and how he cant lose frisk again, chara must insist that theyre not frisk. When they say their name is chara, he hesitates for only a moment. Finally, when chara’s pinned and about to seriously die…

C: you remember it now too, don’t you? It took me a while, I couldn’t remember a thing until i started hearing your name around. You’re an all powerful god now, you should be able to remember it all better than me

A: shut up.

C: would frisk want us to fight like this?! Would frisk want you to kill your own sibling?!

A: c-.... You’re… you’re really chara?

He lets them go

They reach the conclusion that frisk messed with everything and put them here with no memories so they could do something frisk could never do. Frisk thinks they deserve to live, no matter how much the two may disagree. They have to play along. Asriel is a god and can use his powers to break the barrier and bring EVERYONE back to life so they can live together happily.

go to final fight and everyones already there, things are very confused, flowey takes the souls and things glitch out (screen phases between bosses) and chara realizes this isnt how things are supposed to be, tells asriel theyre sorry for their baggage but he doesnt understand bc he isnt theirs, and then they gotta find frisk somehow

OR... they realize things in the speech and don't go to fight asgore bc theyre finding flowey... they feign fighting asgore and then suddenly tell flowey to take the souls("Asriel! get the souls!" and thats the first time they call him by name)...? i like that a bit better. they start going on about crazy shit that makes roided out flowey kind of lose it at them which leads to them apologizing to their own asriel but then realizing they need to find frisk

but HOW do they find frisk

The end shows chara asriel and frisk hugging eachother, all alive and well. Then the two are “processing…” and remember that oh, theyve done some dark messed up stuff.

[yuzukult]

from home 05 || jjk & reader

title: from home  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup​ @yobroitsjayden​

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Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.

His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."

The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind. 

Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit. 

After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching. 

Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.

The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"

"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."

"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"

Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.

But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."

"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."

"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."

"You got your citizenship there?"

"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"

You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"

"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."

Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."

"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"

"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"

"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."

Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"

"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along. 

"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."

Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.

"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"

"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."

"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"

"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."

"Actually—"

"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one. 

Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."

"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"

"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."

"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"

"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"

With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”

From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.

“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”

Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”

Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more. 

“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous? 

“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”

You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”

“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”

Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?

In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?

“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”

“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”

His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it. 

When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.

During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.

Nothing is working out for Jungkook.

This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.

Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.

Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”

“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.

Nothing really was going his way.

It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?

Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.

Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?

The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.

Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”

“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”

A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”

“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”

Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.

He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.

Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”

When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.

Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.” 

Then everything blacks out.

His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room. 

He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”

“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”

Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”

“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“

“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”

“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”

As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?

“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”

“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”

Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?” 

He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”

“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.

“Are you... okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”

“Can... you give me some space?” 

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.

Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”

He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.

“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.

“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”

“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”

Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”

That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”

“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”

“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”

You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”

“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”

Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.

Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.

This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him. 

Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.

“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.

He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?

Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.

He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.

“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”

You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”

“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”

He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.

“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”

You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”

You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.

When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“

“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”

“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.

The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Prey for You | Part 4

Genre: Smut, angst, and some fluff this time

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary:  It has come to this. After your landlord kicks you out, you’re at Chan’s mercy. Turns out, he might not be as bad as you thought he was.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, switch!reader, switch!chan, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader, thigh riding, really unheathly dynamics

A/N: this part is like the opposite of a tootsie roll soft on the outside hard on the inside

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

“This is just for a short while.” You say, swallowing the bile that has risen up in your throat as you look at the smug wolf sitting in front of you on his couch.

“Sure.” He shrugs nonchalant, but the cocky arch of his brow says otherwise and you have to squash down your pride with everything you’ve got not to jump on him. Like it or not, you’re at his mercy now that your landlord has officially evicted you. Without his gracious help, you’d now be on the streets. “I’ll find another place as soon as I can.”

“You can take all the time you need.” He opens his arms wide, going for a welcoming vibe but the stupid grin on his face counteracts it.

“No. I’ll be out of here soon.” You deadpan, not wanting to owe him more than you already do. God knows he’ll hold his over your head forever.  "And I don't feel comfortable living here for free so from now on until I leave, I'll be taking care of things around the house."

“Oh, how domestic.” He chirps sweetly.

"More like a live-in maid." You mutter under your breath but he easily hears it, the stupid grin finally dropping from his face as he sits forward and looks at you sincerely. "Don't say that. I meant what I said. You’re here as a friend."

"Yeah, sure." You snort. “You’re basically high from gloating.”

A smile tickles his lips again as he leans back. “I always enjoy the chance to one-up you, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.”

“Wow, you really are a saint.” You jeer, grabbing your bag and heading towards the room that is to be yours.  

_________________

To your great surprise, living with Chan was actually kind of nice. Aside from the obvious perk of living in such a comfortable, beautiful house that had everything you could ever need. Chan himself was proving himself to be a quiet congenial roommate. Most importantly, he left you the hell alone for the most part, staying cooped up in his studio the majority of the day so that you barely even saw him. And despite your agreement that you’d take care of things around the house, he still did most of his things himself, picking up after himself and washing his clothes before you got the chance to. He fed himself too as indicated by the boxes of takeout from every possible fast food place filling out the trash. So you were barely wasting any time on taking care of the house, and spending most of your days following up on your studies like you so sorely needed. 

All in all, this whole arrangement was working out positively in your favor. Too positively, that you have to wonder what he was getting out of this. He can’t possibly really be doing this out of the goodness of his heart, especially since no one is even aware of this kind deed for him to gain any morality points off of it. He hasn’t even made a move on you for the whole three weeks you’d been here, seeming content to just coexist with you that you were starting to feel like you were taking advantage of him somehow. Even though this whole thing was his idea. 

Maybe that, your momentary self-doubt, is what prompted you to do what you did next. 

“Hmm, something smells nice.” Chan remarks, walking into the kitchen where you were making yourself some food. He stands behind you to take a look at what you were cooking, and you feel your heart skipping a beat at the now familiar scent of him filling your nostrils and his body being so close to you. And when he speaks, his voice deep and calm next to your ear, it makes your skin tingle. “Looks tasty too.” 

And like a teenager who had the great fortune of being noticed by the popular jock, you twist your head around to look at him, dewy-eyed as the words stumble out of your mouth before you can think them over. “Would you like to have dinner with me today?”

He pauses, looking at you curiously and you turn back to the food and continue nervously, “I mean, that junk food you eat everyday can’t be good for you.” 

“Aw, are you worried about me?” He asks cheekily, and your shoulders tense. “Never mind.” 

“No, no, I’ll have dinner with you.” He rushes to say, plopping down on a seat resolutely. “No take backsies.”

“Idiot.” You mutter, finding yourself wearing an involuntary smile because of him once again.

__________________________________ 

You’re not the best cook, you’ll be the first to admit it, but Chan praises your food like you are a world class chef. 

“Fuck off, Chan. It’s not that good.” You protest awkwardly, not really used to being complimented. But he insists, mouth full of food, “It is! It’s sublime.” 

You look down at your food to avoid eye contact with him and put on your best snooty voice. “Poor thing. Your habit of eating exclusively junk food must’ve ruined your palate to the point where you think my cooking is anything but decent.” 

“You sell yourself short. These hands--” He suddenly grabs your hands suddenly, startling you as he kisses them. “They’re magic.” 

You yank them back to your lap, flustered, the adrenaline pushing your poor fluttering heart into overdrive and making you panic. You quickly grab your fork and shove some food into your mouth trying to distract yourself from the conflicting emotions clashing in your chest, and regretting it almost immediately as your nausea swells up. 

“Is that how you woo prey?” You snark, taking a big gulp of your wine to wash down the piece of food you barely chewed. “Blatantly lie to them about their cooking skills?” 

The atmosphere fully changes as Chan drops his cheery attitude.  “Can we not talk about… that? It’s just you and me here. We don’t have to let the outside world in, do we?”

You still, your sense of danger rising up exponentially at his suggestion, and once again you find yourself wondering why he was doing this. What was his endgame here? Was he just messing with you? He puts on an honorable performance but you’ve seen him slip before. It must get tiring for him. Maybe he wants to see you hurt; it’s in his nature and he’s been repressing it for so long. You’d be the perfect victim too. No one even knows you’re here, and even if they did, they’d never believe your word over his. 

Or he could be genuine. Maybe he’s as nice as he tries to be. But that just scares you more, because how do you deal with that? You’ve never had a relationship with someone that was open and trusting. You’ve always hid behind your games. They kept you safe. No one has ever truly hurt you because you’ve never allowed someone to get close enough. But if you trust Chan, if you let him in and he betrays you… you don’t know how you’d even recover from that. 

You want to believe though. Everyone always says how much of a good person he is, how loyal, how selfless, how supportive. They can’t all be blind, right? And you’ve seen it too, in the way he always strived to protect his friends from you. He wanted the best for them. Maybe he could want the best for you too.

“Okay.” You answer in a small voice, heart pounding. 

His answering smile is bright and big, but it does nothing to assuage your fears so you settle for taking another sip of your wine. That’s what it’s made for, right?

“So, what do you actually do? I never asked.” Chan makes conversation as he gets back to his food.

You clear your throat. “I’m a waitress.” 

“Oh, and… um, is that what you want to be doing?” He asks unsurely. 

You roll your eyes at him, feeling a little at ease at his naivety. “No. Nobody wants to work in the service industry. It’s basically slavery and all your costumers are either rude or crazy. I hate it.” 

He pauses, looking like he’s thinking very hard for a moment, before he asks, perplexed. “So why do you do it?”

“To eat?” 

“Oh. Right. Of course.” His ears turn red and it’s his turn to take a big gulp of his drink. “I’m, uh, apparently an idiot. Yes, people work to afford living. Of course.” 

“I guess you’ve never had to think about that.” You note, surprised that you don’t feel any bitterness as you say it. 

“No.” He stares at the food on his plate. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah but--”

“But I don’t have money so you feel sorry having money in front of me?” You grin, tone light, and he smiles back, face flushed as he obviously chastises himself in his head. 

“So…” He starts again, and it’s a little endearing how nervous he is. “What do you really wanna do?” 

You regard him for a second, wondering if you should really cross that line and let him in. Well, here goes nothing. 

“I’m studying to be a doctor.” 

His jaw drops to the floor. “You?”

“Yeah, shocking right?” You quip, taking another sip from your glass.

“I mean, yeah.” You would take offense at his words if it weren’t for the--you begrudgingly admit--endearing confused frown on his face. “Isn’t that a traditionally prey profession? Don’t you get, like, weird looks or something?”

“Yeah.” You snort, feeling the bitterness rise to the surface. “I get more than just weird looks. People feel the need to tell me every moment of every day how I’ll never be a good doctor. How no one will trust a fox with their life. How I should just quit and get into business or law or whatever other profession that can use my no-doubt nefarious skills.”

“That sucks.” He says then immediately cringes at his lame comment.

“Yeah, no shit. And guess who says it the most? Prey hybrids.” 

A light bulb suddenly clicks above his head. “Is that why you dislike them? They’re really not all like that--”

You interrupt him sharply, already knowing where he was going with this. “They’re not like that to you because you’re powerful and rich and you could do whatever you want, but they’re ruthless to me. They’ve always been. So yeah excuse me if I don’t care too much for your prey apologism. It’s pretty infuriating actually.”

“I really think you should--”

“What about you?” You ask pointedly, clearly wanting to change the subject. “I mean, I know that you’re a producer. I suppose this is what you’ve always wanted to be doing.” 

“Ah, yes.” He coughs, straightening in his seat as he reels back from the change of topic. “I’ve loved it since I was an angsty teen listening to hip hop and pretending like I’m so cool and gangsta.” 

The thought of little rich boy Chan swearing it up and down and acting like a thug brings an involuntary and sincere laugh out of you. It doesn’t bother Chan though. If anything, he looks content to have made you laugh. 

“Did you…” He begins after your laughter dies down, fiddling with the stem of his glass as he looks at you from under his lashes, “Have you ever listened to any of my tracks?”

“No.” You scoff, the word coming out automatically. I mean, why would you? It’s not like you like the guy. 

His face falls at your flippant answer. “Ah. Of course.” He says flatly, bringing his glass to his mouth. 

You feel a pang of guilt in your chest. Logically, you know you have no reason to feel bad. You two were never on the best of terms and you have no obligation to listen to his songs. And yet, as you look at his crestfallen face, the guilt still eats at you. 

“How about you show me some after dinner?” You find yourself suggesting and his face immediately brightens up. “Yeah! I mean… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He interjects quickly, even though he clearly wants you to. 

“I want to.” You say firmly, and he smiles. ___________________________________

“I’m a nice guy who just has a lot of money?” You wheeze, cracking up and face flushed from the intoxication. You were somehow on Chan’s lap as the night progressed from him showing you his proudest works to his most regrettable ones.

“I know. I know. What was I thinking, right?” He laughs along with you despite his obvious embarrassment. 

You lean in close to his face, humming, "I think it's endearing." You kiss him. 

"You just like embarrassing me." He protests weakly, mouth opening against your lips. 

“Guilty.” You pull away to take his shirt off. Caressing his exposed muscles, you grin, “Hmm...yummy.” 

He bursts out laughing, “You like it?”

You shrug, “It’s not what I usually go for but I can get used to it.” 

He scoffs at that, and pulls your own shirt over your head. Tugging your bra over your breasts, he cups them in his hands and murmurs against your skin, “Well, I don’t need to get used to these.” before his mouth latches onto them. He sucks marks onto the sensitive flesh while his hands grope and knead your breasts. 

Looking up at you, he pushes your breasts together and laps his tongue over the nipples. Your arousal spikes as your gaze locks with his challenging one, and you start rocking yourself over his thigh. 

"Fuck that's hot." He mumbles, lightly tugging on your nipple with his teeth as he pulls away, making you moan out and your hips swivel down to push your core harder against his thigh. 

"Wait, wait," He pulls you to your feet, and you whine, protesting the loss. 

“Hush, baby girl.” He soothes, yanking your pants down your legs along with your underwear before he slips his hand between your legs to drag a finger up your slit, hissing when he feels your wetness. "That's what I want." He groans, pulling you back down on his thigh and using his grip on your hips to make you move over his thigh again. "Want you to ruin my pants with your cum, baby girl. Show me how much you need me."

"But I don't need you." You retort, though your hips don’t slow down. 

“Are you sure about that, my little fox?” He flexes his thigh under you, pushing it up more against your core. 

“Uh-huh.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. He takes the opportunity to get back to sucking on your breasts, which only makes your movements more frantic. 

“Come on, baby, tell me how good I am and I’ll help you.” He gasps between kisses. You tug on his hair, almost bouncing on his thigh now. “Why don’t you beg for it, pup?”

“Unbelievable.” He growls, pulling your head down. “You’re still so prideful even as you hump my leg like bitch.” 

Whatever stinging remark you would’ve hurled at him is muffled against his lips as he pulls you into a hungry kiss. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, taking him in and caressing it with your own before you put your hands to his chest and push him back. 

“You really want it? Want me to say how good you are for me? How wet you make me?"

He nods eagerly. 

“What a sweet pup.” You praise, “Striving so hard to please me. You’re doing so well, baby. You’ll make me cum real soon.” 

“Do it, please. I wanna see what you look like cumming up close.” 

“Keep tensing your leg like that and you’ll have me cumming in no time, puppy.” You bite your lip, small but needy moans flowing out of you. “What a good boy you are, so good.” 

“Please,” He whispers, his hands helping you move faster on his thigh. “Please, please.”

“So close---ah---oh god, so close...baby!” You gasp, grabbing onto him tightly as you finally cum, the orgasm surprisingly potent. He beams up at you, soaking up every little moan and shudder you let out. “So pretty.”

Gradually, your panting breaths turn into airy giggles as you get down from your high. You give his lips a peck before your hands fall between you and starts pulling his dick out from his sweatpants. You grin against his lips, feeling giddy. "I can’t believe I’m gonna let you fuck me in your studio. How cliche.”

His answering chuckles are punctuated with little moans as you glide your hand up and down his hard dick. “If it--ahh-- makes you feel any better, t-this is the--ahh, yeah like that, baby-- the first time I fuck anyone here.” 

You giggles increase in pitch, “You’re so full of shit, Chan.”

“I’m serious.” He whines, leaning up into your touch as you swipe your palm over the leaking head of his cock. “This is kind of a... sacred place for me."

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, “It can’t be that special if you’re here with me now.”

“It is.” He insists with a pout, and continues casually as if it was nothing, “Because you’re special.” 

Your hand stills on his cock, your face turning to stone as you try and make sense of what he just said.  He's messing with you. He has to be.

Fear and uncertainty makes your stomach churn and your skin loses all color, your face getting cold and sweaty as the bile rises up in your throat. You thought you could handle this but you can’t. You’re too much of a coward to risk it and your sense of self-preservation rears its deformed head once again. 

Standing up abruptly, you croak through your suddenly dry mouth,  "I think I’m gonna go. I need to lie down" 

Chan gets up too, not letting you go. "Oh, is everything okay? Are you sick?". 

"I’m fine. I’m just..." You explain weakly, wriggling yourself out of his grip as quickly as you can in your intoxicated state. "I gotta go."

“Hey, wait!” Chan calls after you, but doesn’t try to stop you. You hear him curse out just before you get out of earshot.

____________________

You wake up with a huge headache and an even bigger feeling of dread. The events of last night coming back like a bullet shot through your chest, and you’re even more confused now with the hangover shattering any hope of a coherent thought forming in your head. 

You stumble out of bed and head to the door, resolving to get some water and some painkiller so you’d maybe start to feel like your head wasn’t likely to explode at any moment. But as you slide the door open, you hear bickering voices just outside in the living room.

"Chan, what the hell are you doing man?" You hear a familiar voice ask but your brain is too scattered to pinpoint the owner of it right now. Luckily, you don’t need to as Chan speaks up in reply, "It's fine, Jisung. It’s all under control."

"No, it's not. Isn’t that what you used to tell me? That no matter how much she makes it seem like she cares, she could flip the table on me at any moment and that I shouldn’t trust her. That’s what you said!”

You quickly pick up that they’re talking about you despite how much you don’t want to believe it. But that’s the kind of language that has always been directed at you, there is no mistaking it. Yet, against all reason, you hope it’s not true. Or at least, you hope Chan would deny it. 

He doesn’t, of course. They never do.

“I know what I said!” 

“And? Do you trust her now?” Jisung asks incredulously. 

“Of course not.” Chan vehemently denies, the resoluteness in his voice piercing straight through your heart. 

Of course not. Of course he doesn’t trust you. What a ridiculous question.  

“Jisung is right, Chan.” A new voice adds and you focus on the sound of it, trying not to break down just yet. “You’re letting her sleep under your roof, man, and you didn’t even think to tell us. Has she been messing with your head?”

They are talking about you like you are some kind of monster, some wild beast that would pounce on you the second you turned your back to it. You’d find it amusing coming from anyone else, but not from Chan, because for once in your life you wanted to believe that someone could see you as something other than what the world thought you were. You blame yourself for this one. 

“My head is fine.” Chan retorts angrily, letting out a forced sigh. “I’m just.... She was in trouble and I had to help her.” 

“Oh, you had to?” The new guy interjects mockingly, “Tell me, would she have helped you if you were in her position?”

“That’s irrelevant.” Chan protests. 

“No, it’s not. She would’ve let you suffer and laughed about it. She’s bad news, man.” 

“I think you guys are being a little harsh.” Another voice speaks up, deeper than the rest. “Maybe she’s not as bad as you think. I’m sure Chan has a good reason for trusting her.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure his dick does.” Jisung scoffs, “You know, I can’t believe you’d do this after preaching to me for hours about how I need to stay away from her and how stupid I am for letting her get to me. But hey, I’m just a stupid squirrel hybrid, right?” 

You’ve heard enough. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you plaster a smile on your face and step into the living room, the four boys’ head snapping around to look at you. 

“Chan, you didn’t tell me we had guests.” You ponder theatrically, ignoring Chan’s dismayed exclamation of your name. "Oh hey, Sungie. I knew you'd be back for more." You wink at him and he immediately ducks behind the dark-haired stranger. 

“Please go back to your room.” Chan asks, equal measure pale and tense.

“But aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Your eyes flit over the three guys, stopping when you get to the blonde, freckled one. “Especially this one. What’s your name, pretty boy?”

The boy blushes at the unexpected flirtation but extends his hand out to you nonetheless. "I'm Felix." He greets you unexpectedly cheerily, and you’re even more surprised to find out that he’s the one with the deep voice.

But before you can take his hand, Chan steps between the two of you. 

"I need to talk to you." He grits, pulling you to your room and shutting the door behind you. “What are you doing?”

You shrug, feigning ignorance. “Saying hi to the guests?” 

“Now is not the time for your games.” Chan rakes his hand through his hair, stressed out, but you keep up your innocent facade and he sighs in defeat. “You know what? Just stay in your room until they leave and then we’ll talk.”

“No, we’ll talk now. Are you ashamed of me or something?" You wonder, cocking your head to the side. “I thought you said I was special to you? But apparently you say a lot of things.”

“Baby--”

“Why, Chan?” You finally let your facade drop, letting the full extent of your disappointment and sadness break through. “If you don’t want me here then why did you offer in the first place?”

“I do want you here. I just wasn’t planning on anyone finding out about this.”

You laugh in disdain, “How do you always know what to say, Chan?” 

“I’m sorry but you have to realize how bad this looks for me. I worked fucking hard to get to where I am today. There are so many people waiting for me to make the slightest mistake so they can watch me fall. And here you are… well, you don’t exactly have the best reputation. If people find out about us then--”

“Wow, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” You bite, venom lacing your every word.

He laughs cruelly. “Oh, yes, and the judgement comes out. You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You can judge everyone and treat them like shit, but as soon as someone does the same to you you’re suddenly the poor misunderstood victim that everyone bullies.”

You reel back at the harshness of his tone and words. He’s never spoken to you like that before, no matter how much he was upset at you. It was jarring. “Stop it.”  

“Why? It’s what you’re best at, darling.” He sneers, continuing to ruthlessly attack you. “You judged me before you even knew me and went about treating me like a feeble predator because that’s what you decided that I am. And now you want me to take responsibility for your actions and stand up for you when other people treat you the way you’ve been treating them? But here’s the thing, baby; maybe if you had actually been a decent person and treated others with respect, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Hell if you'd been a decent person, you wouldn't be having such a hard time anywhere, not with me, not with school, not--" 

"No, fuck you, chan. Don't you dare tell me this is all my fault. You know nothing about my life! I can't believe I actually--never mind.”

“No say it. You actually what? Liked me? Cared for me? Don’t make me laugh, fox. You don't give a shit about me. Every time I try to get close to you, you pull back like I make you sick. If it weren’t for me offering you a place to stay, you wouldn’t even be talking to me right now. You only care now because I have something to give you, but the second you’re done with me, you’ll throw me in the trash like you do everyone else. And I’m not going to sacrifice all that I’ve worked for to entertain you until you’re bored.”  

“You may be right. I may be as awful as you all say I am.” You smile, tears falling down your face. “But at least I'm honest with myself. You on the other hand? Under all your pretense, you're just as fucked up as I am. And one day, everyone will see you for how ugly you really are. ” 

_______________________________

A/N: sorry guys she (me) had to do it to you. leave your feedback uwu

[iphoenixrising]

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with 

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

**

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

**

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

**

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

**

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

**

The Titans make it for the service. 

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

**

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

**

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

[queen-ofsunflowers]

My favorite moments I've written for Shujin Assassins so far:

Kayano: How do you say ‘unkillable’ in Japanese? (Ren pauses and thinks about it.)

Ren: Korosenai. (The entire class whips around at the sound of Ren speaking.) Korosenai… Koro… sen...nai… Koro...sen...sei? ...Korosensei? Huh? 

Nagisa: Korosensei? (Ren pauses. Oh crap, he said all that out loud.)

Korosensei: A pleasure to finally hear more of that voice of yours, Amamiya. Five whole words!

---

Korosensei: Shoot and stab all you want, class! Even with this handicap, I am too fast for you! (Ren looks up and takes the gun from Nagisa.)

Nagisa: Hey, what—

Korosensei: Only in your dreams do you have any hope of getting the deed done— (Ren fires, not aiming for Korosensei but the rope tied to the tree. The rope breaks and Korosensei, stunned, falls. They watch as the rest of the class takes the initiative to attack him, forcing a panicked Korosensei to roll around on the ground.)

Ann: Wow. I didn’t know a BB could break a rope like that!

Ren: It was starting to break anyway.

---

Ren: You’d really help me?

Ryuji: ‘course. We’re friends, aren’t we? (Ren blinks. But they’ve only known each other for like… a week and half. He still smiles all the same.) Ain’t that right, Ren-Ren? (A shiver goes up Ren’s spine at the sound of that nickname. Of all things to call him…) So call me Ryuji, got it?

Ren: Thanks. I think I’ll stick with Sakamoto.

Ryuji: Oh man, that's cold.

---

Kataoka: Does anyone else think it's weird that she’s all over Korosensei?

Ryuji: I dunno. Maybe she’s into tentacles. (Someone swiftly kicks his seat.) OW! Hey! What was that for?!

---

Ann: But we bought those for ourselves! *groan* I was so looking forward to that for later…!

Shiho: I’m starting to think that he just used this lab to feed his junk food habit until payday.

Ren: Why does an octopus need to get paid a teacher’s salary…?

Shiho: Huh. Eleven words now.

Ren: What?

---

(And the door opens before Ren can run away.) Oh.  

Ren: Uh… H-Hello. Sir.

Principal: (more warmly that Ren expected) I look forward to your midterm results. Let your mother know that I said hello, would you? (Ren swallows and nods. When he leaves, that warmth disappears and is replaced by ice cold.)

---

Ann grabs Ren’s wrist to pull him back to her.)

Ren: Huh? What’s up?

Ann: Did you really mean all that? (Ren raises a brow.) What you said to those guys back there. About us. Did you really mean it?

Ren: ...Every word. Why?

Ann: ...Like I told Kayano, I always thought I was an outcast because of my looks or the fact that I didn’t grow up here. So hearing all that… Thank you. I really appreciated it.

Ren: No problem. It’s like Ryuji told me. We outcasts have to stick together, don’t we?

Ann: *giggle* Right! ...um, hey. If you want to, you can call me Ann, alright?

Ren: Okay.

Ann: Okay! And… thanks again. ...Ren-Ren. (Ren bristles, turning bright red. Ann laughs out loud, patting his back.) I’m just messing with you!

Ren: Please don’t do that… (Nearly killed him…) Can you maybe… not call me that?

Ann: Okay, okay! (She’s still laughing.) I promise!

---

Nagisa: What did you even do to them?

Ren: I have no idea. I got this really bad headache… and I think I heard a voice in my head? There was this thing… I’m not sure what it was.

Nagisa: Whatever it is, I could help with it. We’ll figure out what it is.

Ren: You don’t have to.

Nagisa: I’m already figuring out Korosensei’s weaknesses. Who knows? Maybe whatever that was 

Ren: You’re not… freaked out?

Nagisa: Amamiya, our teacher is a giant yellow octopus. Whatever happened to you is the least strange thing that I’ve seen this year. We can figure out what it is. And hopefully it’ll help us with our assassination.

Ren: *nods* Right! Let’s do this! (He holds out his hand. Nagisa stares at it for a moment before shaking it.)

---

Ryuji: Wow, she’s seriously cute.

Ren: She doesn’t really look like an assassin.

Shiho: Neither do we. But still… I’m curious about what this new girl’s all about. Amamiya turned out to be quite the joker.

Ren: Joker?

Shiho: A wild card! I mean, you didn’t hesitate to jump out a window or off of a cliff.

---

Ann: Uh, no offense but I don’t think your usual tactics will fool Mr. Karasuma. He knows your M.O.

Irina: Don’t you think I don’t know that!? (She sighs.) It’s like a paid escort trying to put the moves on her old man. (Ren shivers at the image.) If I don’t get this done, I’ll have to leave.

Ann: What?!

Irina: C’mere, I wanna try something. (She drags Ann off.)

---

Kayano: Here’s the thing, if they really are related… I mean, don’t you think that Korosensei would’ve known about it?

Fuwa: Hmm… not necessarily.

Ren: Right. They could’ve been separated at some point.

Kayano: Um, that still doesn’t explain why Itona’s human.

Fuwa: Easy. He’s a mutation.

Kayano: You’ve totally glossed over the core issue here!

Ann: Uh, no offense, but the whole separation thing is really kinda cliche.

Fuwa: Hey, no one asked for your criticism.

Ann: If you didn’t notice already, we’re sorta dealing with real life!

---

Sugino pitches and Shindo swings again. The ball hits the bat, and Ren leaps back just in time, flipping backwards and actually sticking the landing.)

Karma: (jumping up to catch the ball.) Oh, now you’re just showing off. Heads up, Nagisa! (He tosses the ball to their catcher, who tags the home plate.

Ren: Maybe.

---

(The whole time Ren had been taunting Takaoka and keeping everyone’s eyes on him, Nagisa had come around to sneak up behind him. The cat and the snake both strike, Ren flipping over Takaoka’s shoulders as Nagisa brings him down to the ground, knife at his neck and a hand covering his eyes.)

Nagisa: Looks like we win.

Ren: Nagisa, you’re using the back of the knife.

Nagisa: Huh?

---

 (She jumps onto his back.)

Terasaka: What the hell?!

Shiho: What the heck did you mean when you called me a rabbit?! If I’m a rabbit, does that mean you don’t think I can kick your ass?! Because I can! (Her weight eventually toppled them both over and they landed in the water. Ann laughs as she goes to help them up. Ren moves over to get his glasses from Karma.)

---

Ren: And finally, the grand overachiever himself holding the top spot: student council president Gakushu Asano. He got the top spot in the National Mock Exams, and tends to get perfect scores in just about every subject. He’s the principal’s only son, so I think that might have something to do with it. if we could somehow catch him off guard, surprise him somehow, it could get him to mess up and make a mistake. He’s always been like that as far as I can remember. For example, despite being adept at martial arts, he didn’t remember how to catch himself when he fell after I… might’ve shoved him.

Shiho: You know a lot about Asano. It’s kind of creepy. (Ren only hums in reply. It’s not that creepy when you think about it.)

---

(Ren’s eyes widened. He… He actually did it?)

Ryuji: Way to stick it to that know-it-all, man! (Ren softly smiles.)

Ren: I guess.

Ryuji: You guess? The guy’s ranked nationally! Even Nakamura only beat him by the skin of her teeth!

Nakamura: What was that, Sakamoto?

Ryuji: Uh, nothing! Just sayin’! Ren challenging the King of the Hill is definitely awesome!

---

Ann: Yup! (as she and Shiho take the drinks from the waiter passing them out. Ann takes a sip from hers) C’mon, guys! Drink up! These things are like… super good. So sweet!

Ren: (holding up the water bottle he thought to bring with him) I’m fine.

Ryuji: Don’t mind if I do! (He takes Ann’s, which is still at least a three-fours of the way full. He drinks right from the glass)

Ann: Hey! Get your own!

Ryuji: Too late! My backwash is in it! It’s mine now. I LICKED the glass! (He does so to drive his point home. Ann huffs as Shiho chuckles, downing the rest of her glass.)

---

Karma: Oh, sorry ‘bout that. Let’s see if there’s a way to help you out there. (He gestures over to another classmate, who brings him a sea slug. Karma plops it on the sphere.) This do anything?

Ren: (as Korosensei screams) Karma, knock it off.

Karma: Why should I? Not like he can do anything about it. (Ren pulls himself out of the water and the sea slug off of Korosensei.) Now, I wonder if we could find a creepy old beach hum anywhere. I want to shove Korosensei down his pants. (Ren groans. What the hell…? In hindsight, taking this form probably wasn’t the best idea. Especially around Karma. That is why Ren snatches up Koro Sensei and runs over to Mr. Karasuma.) Hey!

---

Ren: ‘Eliminate the impossible and whatever remains is the truth’. 

Fuwa: Hey, yeah! I didn’t know you read Shonen Jump, too!

Ren: I uh... 

Karma: He doesn't. I saw him reading a little something else on the way over. Sherlock Holmes, wasn’t it?

Ren: Maybe… ...okay, no. ...It was Arsène Lupin. ...I finished the Sherlock Holmes books a while ago. A friend recommended Arsène Lupin to me and I haven’t been able to put it down.

Ryuji: Nerd.

Ren: You were reading over my shoulder.

---

Ann: Hey, are you okay?

Ren: Yeah… just a little bit of a headache. I’ll be fine.

Ann: How long have you had it? (Ren looks down at the ground.) Ren, how long have you had it?

Ren: ...Since the mastermind called, saying he poisoned everyone. It’s just a small one, Ann. I’ll be fine.

Ann: Liar. You know what happens when you get those headaches, though. Don’t act like none of us noticed. I saw your phantom try to come out when that guy had Karma. Ren, I know it’s hard, but you need to keep calm.

---

Ren: Ryuji, you’re-- (Ryuji puts a hand over Ren’s mouth, shushing him.)

Ryuji: I’m fine. It’s just a fever. Ann and I split the drink, so if she’s fine, then I’m fine, too. (Ren takes Ryuji’s hand off of his mouth.)

Ren: Ann barely drank any of it at all. You drank most of it. The virus is deadly, Ryuji. 

Ryuji: I don’t care! It’s like everyone said earlier. I’m the fastest in the class. I can’t just sit and wait for help while this creep gets away with it. I don’t care if I’m sick, I’m not gonna let everyone down!

Ren: Ryuji--

Ryuji: Please. Don’t tell anyone. Especially Ann… I think she already blames herself for what happened to Shiho, I don’t want her to blame herself for not stopping me earlier, too. (Ren bites his lip but nods either way. Once Ryuji decides to do something, it’s hard to stop him. But still… He really hopes that they can get that antidote.)

---

Ren thrashes against whoever’s holding him and loudly screams, dropping to his knees and letting it all go. He doubles over, catching himself on forearms as wind whips around him.)

“Nagisa, back away from him! NOW.” (There’s a blue light streaming around him, travelling up his body as the voice in his head now echoes in his ears.)

“I am thou, thou art I. Thou who would accept blasphemy for the sake of thine own justice, call upon my name and release thy rage!” (Ren shakily pushes himself up, his knees feeling like they’re about to give way as he stands. The light shifts and morphs into a figure behind him.) “Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou shall be chained down to Hell itself!”

(A single name appears in Ren’s mind.)

Ren: ARSÈNE!

[jaekaicx]

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

[daunknown55]

Captain ColorPants Color Infection AU PT.2: Frantic Squash.

So since some " Special People " wanted Part 2, here it is. Except now the scene is rewinded to Melvin finding the boys accidentally breaking the machine and it's on script format now for some...reason? yeah.

Melvin: *Comes with the color infecting him* WHAT HAPPENED NOW! *Sees George and Harold in front of the Pastyireon 6300* OH WHY YOUR LITTLE! George: We didn't do anything we swear! Harold: Yeah, our comic just got pushed into this pretty weird piece of junk!- Melvin: JUNK? JUNK?! DOES THAT LOOK LIKE JUNK TO YOU? Harold: Well, yeah- Melvin: You FOOLS! THAT WAS MY NEWEST INVENTION THAT WASN'T COMPLETED YET AND IT COULDN'T HANDLE COLOR! NOW EVERYBODY IS GETTING INFECTED BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPID M I N D S! George: Everybody can mistakes, right? Melvin: Yes EvEryBoDy CaN dO mIsTaKeS- THE UNIVERSE IS SUFFERING! THAT'S A BIG MISTAKE! THE WORLD IS DOOMED! Harold: nuh nuh! *Leaves with George* Melvin: *sigh* I am NOT gonna waste my time with these suckers, I need to fix this! *Gets the Pastyireon and leaves with it*

The 2 boys arrive at the office, finding Krupp panicking with the color infection

Krupp: AAAAAH! THE WORLD IS ENDING! THESE CONSPIRACY DUDES I FOUND IN THE STREETS YERSTARDY WERE RIGHT! AAAAH! George: no time for this shiz! *Snaps his fingers, and he turns into Captain Underpants!* Captain Underpants: Tra-la- WHAT THE! I AM IN COLOR! YOUR SIDEKICKS ARE IN COLOR ASWELL! Harold: yeah stuff happened and now go stop this weird color infection! Captain Underpants: *Sees a building being infected with color* I will save the citizens! except you, CryJerry. *Leaves and flies into the building and tries to fight the wave of the color infection, but it doesn't work and the color infection all go to him and he gets stranded but the wave and it goes all over his body!* George and Harold: CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS! Captain Underpants: nuh...UH! *A color explosion happens, and now, Captain Underpants can change his color! George: what the! Captain Underpants: Woah! I can change color now! Harold: *speaks to George* George, Melvin can help too! he probably knows how to reverse the effects! George: you're right Bud! *Captain Underpants* Hey, Underpants! Captain Underpants: it's Captain ColorPants now! George: yeah yeah whatever- just fly us to that Tattle-tale guy house Captain ColorPants: at your service! *Flys them into Melvin's house, when they see him trying to fix the Pastyireon* Harold: Melvin! Melvin: shut! and you brought that fat guy, didn't you? *Turns around and sees Captain ColorPants changing colors* WHAT THE FUCK- George: Yeah, he can do that now. Melvin: Well, I need to remove his color infection thingy and extract it to find a cure! George, Harold, And Captain Colorpants: WHAT?! George: you cant Do that! Melvin: yes I can! *Takes a machine, and starts sucking out Captain Colorpants's color* Captain colorpants: HEY! *Takes a soda to spill on Melvin, but he drinks it himself and out of the sudden. His colors start changing rapidly and George and Harold jump on Melvin, and see what is happening to Captain Colorpants* Melvin: you fools! if you just let me remove his Color Infection and extract it, this wouldn't have happened! *Then, a color pop happens. And the boys turn into their TETOCU selves! Harold's red shirt becomes green, George remains the same but his eyes become smaller like the others, and Melvin's white shirt becomes orange with a little red bowtie.* Harold: hey! did the writers now use our TETOCU assets because they're out of money? Melvin: shut! Captain colorpants: Woah! I can do that! let's get more soda! *Flys with grabbing George, Harold and Melvin* George: AAAAAAAAAAAAH! Harold: here we go again!