#OH ALSO YES ASKS ARE PREFERABLE ACTUALLY

[artofapeach]

Hi friend! Hope doing this in asks is okay, I saw your post about needing some Thoughts on Funger characters for your comic so I wanted to help out :3 I'm sure you already know about all my feelings on Pav and Karin so instead I'll yap about Marina and Daan if that's cool! I just find it interesting how their views on religion contrast each other (with Marina being an occultist and Daan's past with Sylvian) and as Daan goes on about how he dislikes it (in the church I believe) he says the line 'If your happiness relies on the shoulders of others, then you're screwed', in which Marina goes quiet afterwards. And while it could mean nothing, to me that gives me the impression that she took it personally. Maybe she's a people pleaser and she felt called out? Who knows! Also adding to Daan's dislike of the Gods/Sylvian, when they're at Sylvian's Square and Abella tries to bring up how suggestive the fountain looks, he gets very short with her ('Yes. We get your point'). Usually he has something sarcastic or witty to say, so to be that blunt to someone as nice as Abella tells me that he was VERY uncomfortable and eager to leave. Idk, I just thought that stuck out to me. Meanwhile while Marina is at the square she's just like 'oh yeah fun fact there used to be a brothel here lol' completely unbothered, what a queen haha

HI SAM THANKS FOR REACHING OUT :D

Okay okay okay but Daan and Marina (and O’saa, but this ain’t about him) are my religious trauma family fr fr!!!!

I’m so invested in how they both grew up in super religious households and how they deal with the effects of that differently. Because while Daan is very obviously negative when it comes to religion, especially sexually religion (for obvious reasons), Marina is cheerful but insults it at the same time, almost like a coping mechanism?

Plus, Marina is especially interesting because she’s literally in school studying magic and religion. She probably feels trapped, like who would she without the church and Alll-mer? And and and when looking at a photo of her dad, she mentions how the lineage has to end, but she doesn’t make any comments about what she’ll do instead.

I think that could also tie in with what you said in Daan mentioning “If you’re happiness relies on the shoulders of others”—I wonder if she’s thinking of the idea of letting go of religion even then 🤔

SEGUE-WAY INTO DAAN

Daan cutting Abella off coldly at the statue is actually not the only time he does it! He also does it at the mall, with all the people hanging on the ceiling!

Levi mentions that it seems like the people there are enjoying it (which Daan agrees to), suggesting that the whole thing might be a sexual religious act.

When they go back down and Daan and Abella are there, we get this dialogue:

Those two instances just feel…so similar to me. It’s also interesting that they’re both triggered by Abella djndjfnjsjdnf

Also, while looking for the above pic, I also came across dialogue where he mentioned he’s done enough camping for a lifetime because of his parents, which I admittedly didn’t think about. Religious trauma even ruined camping for him :(

Daan’s the opposite of Marina—instead of leaning into it and making fun (like most of the Termina contestants tbh), he avoids anything relating to the Bunnymasks as much as possible.

It does make me wonder if he could help Marina let go of her past and find something new to strive for—he was able to do it with the kindness of the von Dutches so maybe he can do the same for Marina!—but that’s just me being obsessed with found family at that point 😆

[moeblob]

PDA-aversive Saizo my beloved.

[sieglinde-freud]

queerplatonic awakening trio is always gonna be my fav version of them forever and ever and ever i miss them so bad

[telesodalite]

Thinking about KrokFire...

Thinking about them sparring in the cargohold, because it's a long trip, and cabin fever is setting in, and Misfire is gonna pop a gasket if he doesn't do something about it soon, since flying in open space gets real boring real fast, and it's making everyone a little nervous, but Krok has time to kill, and maybe, quietly, he's also two steps away from doing something stupid just to feel alive again after cruising around pointlessly, mindlessly, endlessly, for so so long... (It's barely been a month)

And sure, Misfire is a terrible sparring partner. He has no technique, no concept of proper balance, or an inkling of how to use the weight of his own frame. He rushes headfirst like he's more bull than fighter jet, he talks too much, he spits, he bites, and he can't stand losing. But, in a roundabout way, it almost makes him the perfect partner in Krok's eyes.

Crankcase won't spar, "can't" he claims flatly, gesturing at the gaping hole in his helm, but Krok can respect his want for distance. That occasional flash of fear and frozen unease in Crankcase's visor in close combat doesn't go over his head. He knows that look. He gets it. He won't push.

Fulcrum... well, a streetlight might be a tougher fight, or at least it would stay up longer and complain less. So much for a once respectable officer of the empire. What was Deathsaurus' command thinking promoting anyone without any actual combat training? It would almost be pathetic if Fulcrum didn't find a way to put the vitriol of thrown fists into his words instead. Now there was some swears Krok hadn't heard in a couple millennia, it would be inspiring if it wasn't his own spark Fulcrum had been damning to the pits and back through a bloody nose.

Spinister? Now Spinister was a good fighter, a better fighter, Krok wasn't so prideful to deny that truth. He'd tasted the dust of the cargohold floor enough to know it was a definitive fact. But Spinister held back, he was careful, he matched Krok's pace, his movements, he held himself defensively, any attack was quick, simple, and merely restraining. It was less a fight, and more a waiting game until Krok finally gave up, and that... well, that did sting a bit.

But Misfire? Misfire was a different beast all together. Sure Krok could dance circles around the flier all day, but it wasn't totally effortless work, he had to stay sharp, Misfire was so predictably unpredictable, he kept him thinking, moving, on his toes, and maybe it felt good to sidestep another stupid headfirst charge, easily grabbing and swinging Misfire around by his arm, so unbalanced all Krok had to do was let him go, and the weight of his own frame would send him careening into the crates stacked around them.

Most days, Misfire would give up by then, pull himself off the pile of overturned cargo with no small amount of burning shame and frustration, as he avoided Krok's optics and stormed off into the bowels of the ship before Krok could say something to ease the sting of losing again and again. Misfire didn't want his apologies though, and even as a pang of guilt ate at him over it, Krok knew he'd be back eventually.

But today, too pent-up and bored to quit now, Misfire pushed himself back onto his feet and charged back in again, and again, and again.

And Krok moved with him again, and again, and again. It was almost repetitive, but lively enough that he could feel the energon pumping through his head, a thrumming beat in his audials that reminds him of deafening battlefields and roaring stadiums, and oh, he'd missed this feeling, the adrenaline, the movement, more so than he thought he did.

Maybe it's the overconfidence that gets him then, or the memories pulling him out of the present, but Misfire's fist suddenly comes slamming down into his mask, and for a moment everything becomes a blur, until he finds himself on the floor, clutching at the shattered metal falling from his face in disbelief.

Faintly he can feel the twinge of broken mesh, of pain pinching dully across scarred flickering sensors, and maybe it's the adrenaline that pulls a suprised and breathy laugh out of him as he stares down at the pieces in his hand.

Maybe it's also the disbelief, the sudden shock at being struck hard enough to break his mask, by Misfire of all mechs. Or maybe he's cracked his helm, finally snapping something important deep in his processor, some vital function that kept him sane all these years.

Either way, an old familiar buzz of heady energy fills his chest, loosening his joints and straightening his struts as he stands back up, brushing off the broken remains of his mask as he stares back at Misfire, barefaced and bleeding and amused as the flier's optics go bright and wide.

And all Misfire can do for a moment is stand there, wide-eyed and breathless, his own adrenaline filled frame and hammering processor still trying to make sense of the broken plating of his knuckles and the energon trickling down Krok's scarred lips.

But connections are made, and it's a panicked realization at first, a cold dread, a 'ohhhhh fuck oh primus I fucked up I'm dead I'm so fucking dead-!' sort of feeling, as Krok's marred face breaks into an energon stained grin. But then there's another feeling, growing somewhere underneath the panic, a sudden curl of heat in his chest, a flush of pride, conviction, a sort of frenzied joy at the sight of broken mesh and fresh energon, and another rush of hot anticipation as Krok began to move again, circling, waiting, an unspoken question in the air as he rolls his shoulders back and flexes his hands.

And Misfire answers eagerly, suprising himself almost as he charges foward again, wanting more of that feeling, wanting to win again.

It's not really sparring past this point, and somewhere in the back of their minds they both know that. Every strike, every kick, every punch, it's all thoughtless instinct, each clash of plating, and bite of denta, and scrape of fingertips, is part of a mad dash for victory in the gladiator pit of scrap and debris they've built around themselves.

Of course, it can't last forever. They're no real gladiators, no phase-sixers, no primes, and movements get sluggish, vents rattle and wheeze as coolant pumps reach their limits, and building condensation slides powerless punches right off of scuffed metal and mesh.

Even like this though, worn out and bleeding from more scrapes than he had half a mind to count, Krok is still better, and Misfire is still predictable, and it's no great feat to sweep his legs out from beneath him, landing him flat on the floor, wings spread out and chestplate heaving.

Overworked joints sharply protest as he goes to pin the flier down bodily, and finally Krok faces the fact he has to consider how to end this, so he might let his own beaten frame finally still for a moment to breathe.

But as Krok catches one flailing arm in his grip, scoffing at the desperation, still goading Misfire on even as he tries to end this, a hand stubbornly catches his throat, but stops before it can truly squeeze.

And once more they're not really moving, just staring, watching, but it's less wired and tense now, rather, its shaky, a little unfocused, as exhaustion filters out in heaving puffs of hot air between their frames.

Someone's plating is rattling, Krok isn't sure if it's his own or Misfire's, but the cost of adrenaline is painfully noticeable now. His grip loosens on Misfire's arms, and the idea of total victory is less sweet as his cables begin to ache throughout his inner-framework.

But Misfire's hand slides up to catch his jaw before he can lean back and relent to a truce, and he's pulling him closer, and Krok starts to push him off, call it quits before either of them breaks something past repair, but a flash of energon on Misfire lips catches his eye, and that hadn't been there a moment ago?

Before he can even begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, Misfire is pulling him down again, angling his helm upwards to feverishly meet his lips half-way.

Although the mesh of Misfire's face was throughly bruised and scuffed, Krok had frustratingly failed to return the favor of a busted lip. So, it had to be his own, smeared across Misfire's face at some point in the scuffle, it shouldn't have been interesting in the slightest, but Krok's processor was hazy, slow, and his optics trailed Misfire's glossa as he licked his lips and made an odd curious sound.

And maybe it was a stupid move to make so impulsively, one he'd regret making probably, but still too caught up in the waning heated high of the fight, Misfire figured he could worry about losing such a hard-earned battle later. Right now, this seemed far better than actually winning, and the taste of Krok's energon felt like a victory and reward nonetheless.

Bracing himself as Misfire wriggled his other hand free to splay out over his thigh, holding him desperately against his frame as he tried pulling him even closer, Krok considered the heat dispersion warnings flickering distractingly in his peripheral, and the very noticeable strain on his back and legs, even his arms.

It's not a great position to be in right now, after all they've done already. He'll regret it, he knows he will, his body will make sure of it, if Spinister doesn't first.

But then Misfire's glossa is sliding against the jagged edges of his teeth, and he's making hoarse little pathetic noises into Krok's mouth that stoke some sort of ego at having the flier so desperate beneath him, and Misfire's hands are warm and heavy over aching plating and seams, and really, on second thought, after weeks of boredom, why the hell not?

They've got nowhere to be.

[keeps-ache]

wearing pajama pants under my usual clothing because 1) i didn't want to take them off 2) it's cold as hell in this building all the time 3) i am so cozy dude you have no idea

[madwomansapologist]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ༘⋆ rizz? oh, you mean my autism?

★彡 synopsis: jjk boyfriends' ways of loving an autistic reader.

characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, hajime kashimo.

bella's note: my new year's resolution? to be way more self-indulgent!

.ᐟ.ᐟ KENTO 'QUIZ TIME' NANAMI

The first time it happened, Kento assumed you were way too focused on work to cook something before you were about to faint. The second time, maybe you were distracted. From then on, it was a pattern Kento couldn’t unsee.

Arms shaking as you cook. Changing the shower temperature when your skin is burning hot. Only washing your glasses when they are so dusty he could draw on them. Waking up on the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

You only listen to your needs when your body screams.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: “Do you need a drink?” — “Have you eaten anything? That doesn’t count.” — “Want me to close the curtains?” — “Come clean your glasses with me. I could clean yours, but you would need to clean mine. That’s what I thought.” — “Did you pay your bills this month?” — “Have you watched that movie you told me about?” — “Are you going to bed or I’ll have to start undressing? Oh, so now you hear me?”

.ᐟ.ᐟ CHOSO 'ACCIDENTAL MIME' KAMO

Choso would’ve never noticed if you hadn’t got mad at him. Mocking you? of course he was not! That’s so mean, Choso would never do that to someone he loves.

You have this habit. Of repeating words or phrases others use. Choso thought it was sweet. It showed that you were paying attention to every conversation. He started doing the same for you to know that he was listening, too.

Choso would’ve never understood if it wasn’t for Yuji. Echolalia. You weren’t doing it on purpose. It was automatic. What he saw as a habit was something you have no control over. When Choso started doing the same, you thought it was his way of saying “stop that, you’re bothering me.”

Once Choso explained himself, it was your turn to think it was a sweet habit.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to.” — “Choso, you’re very beautiful. Wait.” — “Can you shut up? Sorry.” — “Do you want to go out? I would love to.” — “Fuck that. Hey, Yuji, don’t use those words.” — “Babe? Yes?”

.ᐟ.ᐟ SUGURO 'SOCIAL CLUES TRANSLATOR' GETO

People, most often than not, will say things without actually saying them. The first time the meaning behind someone’s word were completely lost once they reached your ears, Suguru thought it was amusing. But then he understood some think it’s only logical to blame you for not getting what they chose not to say.

Arguing with someone unwilling to change their ways is pointless. If they don’t want to communicate with others, so be it. Suguru would pity them for wasting their chance of knowing you, but he prefers when you spend your time with him.

In important events, Suguru will tell you what to expect. Out with friends, he may warn you about someone not being very happy. Oh, the countless times Suguru was the one to explain that “no, honey, they didn’t mean it literally.”

Suguru would rather not being called tutorial mascot by his partner, but if you’re happy… so be it.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: “Hyperbole.” — “I think that was her polite way of spitting on his face. It gave me chills.” — “I also don’t know what he meant by that.” — “She’s definitely lying.” — “Not literally.” — “Shit. Satoru will ask me to give a speech. You will pretend to be sick? ... I love you.”

.ᐟ.ᐟ HAJIME 'TELL ME MORE' KASHIMO

Hajime WILL know about all your special interests. You have no say in this matter. He wants to know everything about you that there is to know. After all, what is love if not seeing the other and accepting them entirely?

He prefers to do it while he trains. Hajime will practice his techniques with your voice to sooth his muscles. Don’t matter what is on your mind, he wants to hear it all. A specific actress, some movie you saw, penguins? Lovely, keep going.

It's endearing the way you know so much about what you love. Makes Hajime want to ask you what you know about him. Just to check.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: "No, no. Please, keep going." — "And that was created when?" — "Your voice is enchanting." — "How did you discovered that?" — "I think, when I was young, I read a book that mentioned this." — "Talk to me. I want to listen."

.ᐟ.ᐟ TOJI 'HUMAN FURNACE' FUSHIGURO

Toji knows how to read someone. It's useful. If he can understand their desires and fears, then he knows what to expect. When it comes to you, what surprises Toji is that he uses this skill to help instead of getting something for himself.

He learned to read you. To understand what your body tells without the need to hearing it from you. Toji understands when something makes you upset, mad, uncomfortable. Even when you're drowning on your emotions and nothing else makes sense: Toji knows you.

And what he learned is that, to silence your mind from all those confusing thoughts, something bigger against you can be distracting enough. To be more exact, to have Toji against you. On his lap, between his arms, beneath him on the couch.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: "I'm warm? How sweet of you." — "Can you hear me now?" — "You feel like you can’t breath? I'll let you go when you get sure of that." — "How's your mind now? Too crowded?" — "Forget about them. Just look at me. That's right. It's you and me, nothing else matters."

.ᐟ.ᐟ SATORU 'DEFENSE ATTORNEY' GOJO

Has someone been harsh to you? A boss ignored your rights? A doctor diminished your requests and questions? You know who to call: Satoru Gojo, your beautiful, funny, interesting, inteligent, kind, considerate [50 adjectives later] boyfriend!

Satoru WILL fight anyone that tries to disrespect you. Don’t matter who, don’t matter why. He's ready to throw hands (or cursed energy, to specify). It can be your mom, he doesn’t care. No one messes with you.

But he also defends you in more pacific terms. He will give whole ass lessons to people that tried to argue with you. He will keep talking until they get it right. If someone tries to embarrass you, Satoru is embarrassing them. He doesn’t care about anyone. If they were able to make you uncomfortable, than they are able of dealing with some discomfort too.

THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES: "Well, actually..." — "I understand what you're saying. Completely. But you're wrong and I will tell why exactly why." — "Say that again." — "You must think you are so funny." — "You think so? Ok, sit down. I'll explain it all to you."

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[mona-risms]

Just figured it out. The entire Huntr/x group has a massive praise kink, most likely from their ✨shared trauma✨ of being rejected/isolated for one reason or another. Honestly I can't picture any of them responding exceptionally well to any form of degradation (again because they've already been there and done that already). Literally that one audio just:

Rumi: Give me the biggest fucking praise buff- 🤗

(Reader): You're such a good girl~

Mira: HOLY FUCK TREAT ME LIKE THAT 🫢

(Reader): Good fucking girl

Zoey in the background: YES I AM!! 🤩

Literally three losers trapped in hot bodies 😭 but you'd be absolutely right and you will be hearing NO objection from me

They've already dealt with some form of degradation in their lives (not in a fun way), and even if it IS a sexual setting and sure they're aware that some people kinda like it bc it's a form of reclamation anyway, it's. Unless it's VERY light and teasing degradation, it's really really not for them. Methinks they'd have individual preferences when it comes to it though

Rumi would respond best when it comes to being praised for her appearance, which seems shallow at base level but think about it w me for a sec. She's grown up believing that she should be ashamed, that she should hide her patterns or else she'll be nothing but a demon to everyone's eyes—even managed to convince her that Zoey and Mira would NEVER accept and understand her if she told the truth and showed them proof of her descent. If you tell her how she's such a pretty girl for you, all ruined while you fuck her brains out, and if you even target the parts that she thinks are 'monstrous' like her patterns or her eyes or literally anything? She's gone. Her entire body's shaking from the force of her orgasm and her claws might damage the bed but oh well!!!!

Zoey would LOVELOVELOVE being praised for being good, which is why in one of my earlier entries I've said how she adores petplay. She CRAVES affection AND approval, especially considering her people-pleasing tendencies—she wants to be more than enough for you, she wants to do everything you ask of her, she wants to give you everything you want, she wants you happy bc you happy and satisfied is her own reward!!! There's that small nagging feeling constantly inside her that gets her thinking if she isn't good then you won't want her anymore :( so bombard her with praise about how she's your good girl, taking everything you give her and squeezing down, all dripping wet and obedient, and those thoughts'll float away as she keeps on babbling and saying thank you with tears in her eyes

Mira wouldn't really voice it out, not really, but the way to get to her may actually be by being possessive during sex. Stay with me here, right. She's never felt like she belonged anywhere, considering her 'problem child' status that most definitely got her feeling shunned left, right, and centre. She's not possessive in general, and if YOU were like deathly possessive yourself she'll even sit you down just to kinda like have a talk w you about it. But when it comes to intimacy and kinks? Oh. Oh my god. There's something about you calling her yours and no one else's, about you gripping onto her tight as if letting go would tear her away from you, that gets her so fucking hot and bothered. Bc her whole life she didn't belong anywhere and yet now you're telling her she belongs to you??? FUCK she'd have such a deathly grip on you too, and her body's movements as it arches as close to you as possible more than speaks for her

Overall these girls def need to be praised so much :( not just in sex but in general as well. It gets them feeling a bit of heat in their core but also it makes them so happy :(((( they deserve love

[featherspiral]

why Asriel? I mean I really like Asriel too, I am just curious on why you personally like him so much.

I dano ur gonna have to ask 10 yr old me on this one

yeah idk man essentially I just think if the very experience of playing this game and it's major themes were translated into a character study he is the ultimate subject <- (this is why hes my fav but this is also now my thesis for the derailed rambles below)

(this is about to be VERY nonsensical and all over the place)

no but for real. I actually kind of find it difficult to put into words just whyyy it is I like my favorite character (at any given time) so much... it definetly helps a lot that I have that nostalgia from 9 years ago but if I were to play undertale for the very first time today he'd absolutely still be my favorite. I think he's pretty much one of (if not) the best video game villains ever, particularily because his story could not work and exist in other media forms. at least to nowhere NEAR the impact.

obviously you hear a lot about how he acts as a mirror to you as the player, which yes holy peak. my god perfectly done. but the part that REALLYY sells his character to me, and my favorite aspect of this, is how the game essentially baits you into falling down the exact same path he did (and probably even faster than he did) by just.. promising more. its a short game, not so short you don't have to be invested, but not long enough for you to actually feel totally and fully satisfied with just one playthrough.

undertale is completely designed for replayability- it reads you up and down and fully anticipates that you WILL play this more than once. assuming the route of the average blind player is neutral -> pacifist -> genocide, if you were receptive to the game and, in a sense, played along and took this world and the characters seriously, neutral will probably leave you with much to be desired. it let's you get attached to these characters, but ends so unsatisfyingly. makes you wonder what would happen if you chose differently, especially with flowey (the little guy of the hour) coming in and goading you on to a pacifist ending (which you also learn later that this is part of his oh so evil scheme to keep you around forever). and if your receptiveness let you actually find yourself caring about the ending these characters get, you WILL replay the game to see it through and get the good ending.

ultimately in the pacifist ending toby fox decides to spend a solid 20 minutes making you feel really sorry for asriel, only for him to then be the only character you cannot truly give a good ending. and usually, most people (ive seen) are just shocked at how emotional this little game made them feel and how much they realized they cared about these little guys. and even though you did all that to get the good, preferable ending, you boot up the game again because you dont really want to let those emotions you just felt go. and flowey is there to ask you NOT to do it, because, isn't this what you just fought to stop him from doing?? and it's something he no longer wants- he's stopped seeing chara as the only possible vehicle to his own (self defined) redemption, and hes divorced that projection of the "perfect friend" from frisk, choosing instead to see them as not only their own person, but someone else he needs to let go.

your inability to let this world (that you've expressly chosen to take seriously) carry on in its most desirable ending is what will eventually lead you to try and milk all the possible content out of it, to the point of killing everyone you possibly can just to see what will happen. obviously that's wording it pretty dramatically (i literally replay geno all the time for funsies and i like to fight sans LOL) but I'm just trying to ham up the point that this is practically BAR FOR BAR what flowey says as he recounts how he came to be so bored and apathetic.

it was your own love for the game that made it stop feeling "real" to you, as the more you replay the game, the more dialogue you skip through, the less you truly engage with it. it's kind of an endless cycle of ever diminishing returns to try and replicate how it once felt. (does this sound awfully familiar to that little guy still is this sounding like that guy to anyone else)

I also think he's just kind of funny he's such an edgy little 10 year old man. everything flowey says and does is so irrevocably tied to who he is and the relationships he had and the fact that when he died he was a little kid being influenced by the most emo human to ever step foot on mt ebott LOL. also I feel like when people look at my page they'd probably instantly assume I think "asriel > flowey" but that quite literally means nothing to me that is a chai tea moment like I know everybody has their own interpretations but for me personally i feel that flowey cannot exist as his own character without acknowledging that he's asriel and how that constantly affects everything about him (as hes pretty much his own foil on purpose) and asriel without flowey is just not so much an interesting character to me.. I just think (and again!! everyone has their own interpretations!!!) (ik people like 2 argue ab this) that the most (personally!!!) compelling way to read him is as one singular, linear person. because like thats what he is. he didn't come back as a flower and immediately hop on that murder sauce, the game just intentionally simultaneously shows you both the very beginning and the tail end of his villain arc without you even realizing you are seeing two ends of the same person's life. I'm losing track I think hahao

yeah anyway I like him ibguess I dunno

[storiesfromasmalltown]

Jack Abbot x resident!reader

Warnings: Cursing, drinking, medical inaccuracies, not beta read, me coming back from the dead, attempts at humor, age gap (reader is in late 20s/ early 30s)

Word count: 2500+ (oh well)

COWBOY TAKE ME AWAY OR when your best friend ends up in the ER after her Cowboy themed bachelorette party with a broken leg and a mouth that just keeps talking you might be in over your head.

You were going to kill her, after they stick her leg in a cast and once she sobered up you were going to kill her. Taking the weekend off in order to go to your best friends bachelorette was planned weeks in advance, the cowgirl theme was coordinated from outfits to drinks, you spent months on the whole thing, being the maid of honour and all- you hand glued BRIDE in gemstones to her white cowboy hat, hell you had hand-sewn the veil to the hat. You planned the whole fucking thing while being a year 3 resident (you survived a few months on good will and fumes for it) and frankly you were looking forward to a night away from your work and the giant obvious crush you had on one of the attendings you were planning on getting over by finding a bison for the night.

And yet there you were getting Becca and her fucked leg into the PTMC, two purses on your scantly clad shoulder and one of her white boots under your armpit- you had remembered to text Ellis on the way to let her know you were coming, no sense in letting the drunk babbling bride wait- you just wished she’d stop asking if she was finally going to see your sexy doctor.

You also regretted ever having spilled about Abbot. The night was perfect for stories of old flames, sex lives and your miserable thing for the hot night shift attending and now you might have to plan a move to Mexico the way she was going. You stopped after two cocktails, knowing the bride was injury prone, Becca told you she planned on getting smashed for her bachelorette the moment Jules proposed and who were you to stop her. You were regretting it now as you took her into the ER waiting room. 

“Bet you he’ll love the outfit.”

“Beck, please shut up about that, please? I need to be able to show my face at work again.”

“Oh you’re showing a lot more than your face today babe.”

“Yes I know my tits are out I didn’t exactly plan on showing up at my place of work tonight.”

She just giggled and tapped the pink hat on your head. Great. 

She had jokes for someone in her place, you were happy to know that alcohol and adrenaline still had a grip on her. You got her seated in the waiting room and went up to fill out her paperwork when a whistle cut you off- Shen, of course he’d be the first person to find you. He gave you an amused once over, leaning his weight on a wheelchair he had with him.

“Well, well good evening or do you prefer ye-haw?” 

“Howdy actually.”

You tipped your hat for added effect, might as well commit to the bit.

“-and since you’ve got jokes you might want to keep them for the cowboy in chief herself.”

He followed your line of sight where Becca was holding her immobilised leg.

“I’m assuming that’s my fracture? Was the rodeo that rowdy?”

“Still is.”

“You coming with?”

“I’ll come after you after I write her insurance info- don’t listen to a word she says and don’t light any matches near her.”

“How come you’re still standing?”

“I’ve known her since college and if there’s someone you keep an eye on it’s Beck.”

He gave a smile before pushing on with the wheelchair in his arms to Becca, who opened with the brilliant opening that may as well have been your gravestone-

“You’re not the hot doctor.”

The laughter he let out startled an older woman who looked like she was about to fall asleep on the plastic chair.

“I’m Doctor Shen, I’m also slightly offended but you can tell me more about this hot doctor of yours while I have a look at that leg.”

For fucks sake.

“It’s not my hot doctor, it’s hers, but it’s a secret!”

A big secret given her pointing towards you.

“Oh is it?”

If Shen knew the whole hospital would know by tomorrow. Maybe you can practice medicine somewhere nice and far-like North Korea.

“Good job on keeping it Beck, the yelling helps.”

“Don’t hold back on the details Cowboy Bride, please keep talking for as long as you’d like- it helps with the pain.”

The maniacal laugh she let out told you you were as fucked as you thought you might be. You thanked the nurse at the check in desk and went back to grab the purses and hopefully pass unseen to your locker to leave Becca's boots and salvage a bit of dignity before your peers and their insufferably handsome attending. 

You were perfectly normal about him the first time you met, you would swear on it and even if you weren't you didn’t know a single person who didn’t stare at his arms the first time they saw him.

It was all fine and almost fun and then one hand held scalpel assistance with whispered praise lead to what you hoped was flirting and then those shoulders showed up uninvited to a wet dream and you found yourself truly and deeply fucked. The worst part was it wasn’t even just a sex thing, he made you laugh, he made you feel safe. You shared whispers and quiet drinks after long shifts, you’ve been handed as many coffees before a long night as you have beers after a long day. You’ve tag teamed shit cases, you’ve joined in on bets, you had inside jokes, hell he gave you butterflies you didn’t know you could still get. It’s one sided- you remind your self, it would be inappropriate that didn’t stop Collins and Robby your brain cheats but she probably didn’t barge in with a drunk friend objectifying him in tiny shorts and a bright pink push up bra poking from underneath her white shirt. 

 You were so focused on immobilising her and getting her in shape to get to the hospital comfortable that you didn’t think to grab your jacket from the table to cover up a bit of your pride and you vividly remembered packing up most of the spares from your locker to give them a wash over the weekend. The familiar chill of the ER enveloped you and you were all too aware of the tiny denim cut offs and the bra baring button up tied at your waist. When you planned the outfit you were hoping for a ‘forget about him’ hookup and a night of good riding jokes and before the leg disaster it gave you a good confidence boost- you looked good, hell you looked fantastic and you felt like an idiot. Your hand shot up to take the hat off before making a run to the lockers but Ellis caught a glimpse of you as you did and her face split in a shit eating grin.

“Now, that’s a look-”

“We’ve seen less clothed people come in-”

“Not doctors.”

“I’m off the clock”

“Or off the cock?”

“This Cowgirl didn’t get to do any riding seeing as the rodeo was closed due to injury.”

“How did that happen?”

“She’s really into Sabrina Carpenter and a clumsy drunk.”

The face you got out of her told you all you needed to know, while your shifts now rarely overlapped you became good friends during your residency but Ellis had the face of a shark on her as she opened her mouth to speak:

“Our good attending Doctor Abbot is actually with your Bride, they’re in Trauma 2 if you want to go hold your friends hand and help with her medical history before she goes for an x-ray. Oh she is quite the talker”

“Wasn’t Shen with her?”

“Oh he was but he called in Abbot so he could go check up on his other patients-”

There was that shark smile again.

“I’ll kill him.”

You felt a blush creeping from your chest as you turned to walk but before you knew it she was right by your side 

“-let me walk you actually, wouldn’t want to miss his face-”

“I think I can find my way to it just fine, just get me a shovel to dig my grave once I’m back.”

“You’re telling me I have to miss seeing you give Rabbit a heart attack?”

“You have to miss my last moments in the pitt before one of the attendings finds out from my very drunk friend a lot of crap that no one is supposed to know about.”

She turned back to her chart, still smiling before saying one last thing

“- don’t tell that to the all the money we all have in the betting pool”

“Oh fuck me.”

“He might!”

You left with a middle finger in the air and your cowboy hat by her chart. Running a hand over the ponytails you attempted before the party you made your way to the room Becca was in- the motion gave you a sense of comfort. You had never felt more awkward in the ER in your life, you had gotten puked and pissed on here, you had said stupid stuff, you had blushed from head to toe the first time Abbot whispered good job to you, you had gossiped and placed bets here and you were dragging your pink boot clad feet because who the fuck knew what Becca had already told him. Sighing you pressed the button to enter the room.

“Any allergies?”

He asked, not turning around from her.

“Oh I thought you left! You didn’t tell me he was this nice!”

If you weren’t in it you’d think it was funny, your cool, calm, collected, attending turned towards you and his eyebrows met that gorgeous hairline at the same time his lips turned into a smirk.

"Well Howdy there."

"Hello Doctor Abbot."

You forced out as confidently as you could trying not to curl into yourself.

“Where’s the rest of your shirt?”

“Lost it at the rodeo?”

“Ah.”

Eloquent Doctor Abbot

“She hasn’t got any allergies, she’s full of tequila and you can’t trust a word she says- when’s she in line for an x-ray?”

“As soon as I can decipher who the hot doctor she keeps asking about is.”

Becka gave you an innocent smile and you made a list of places no one would find her body.

“You uh-do that and I’ll call Jules, her fiancée.”

“Oh I think we’re close to roping the answer Cowgirl.”

You nodded awkwardly and tried not to notice the way his eyes that usually looked straight into yours lingered on the exposed torso and the delicate skin of your collarbones. 

______________________________________________________________

“Last rodeo or last ride?”

Asked one of your friends while you were at the bar waiting for more drinks.

“Last rodeo, I think, I hope she’ll still get to ride.”

You shared a laugh, leaning on the bar.

“The blond in the corner has been checking you out.”

“Not my type.”

“What is your type?”

She asked as you made your way back through the bodies surrounding you.

“You’ll judge-”

“Are you still into old guys?”

“I thought you had a good relationship with your father?”

Cut in a third friend getting Becca’s attention.

“Is this about the hot guy that works with you?”

“Are you having  a sexy Grey’s style affair in the hospital?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“But he is a father figure by what I’ve heard-”

“Gross Beck.”

“Oh do tell?”

You took a drink of your pornstar martini in an attempt to hide your blush as Becca recounted your descriptions of Jack, well Doctor Abbot, you rarely called him Jack. Only in those strange quiet moments when you felt like there might be something there, sharing a drink after a long shift, sitting leg to leg.

“Salt and pepper curls, giant bulging biceps, ex- military and ticks her competence kink- from what I’ve gathered. ”

“You having a competence kink makes so much sense babe.”

You let the martini do the talking:

“Look, I saw him donate blood and work on a patient at the same time and he has hands that look like they know what they’re doing and I am not saying that he looks like he could fuck me into a wall nor that I want it but it is hard to focus some times.”

“So how much older is he?”

“Old enough to be my young father. like 15, 20 years?”

“So how big of a hand are we talking about here?”

“Big enough that you should do something about it.”

“Like risk my job by having a relationship with my boss?”

“He’s not technically your boss! Not that I wouldn’t fuck your boss if he’s ever lonely.”

You choked on your drink as the group continued laughing.

______________________________________________________________

You made your way to the too familiar vending machines to grab a tea and a snack- a headache was building behind your eyes, a combination of the tiredness and slight hangover. You let Jules know Becca was alive and on her way to an x-ray and she let you know she’ll swing by the bar to grab your stuff before coming in to take care of Becca and relieving you of your duties. God the whole hospital will know by tomorrow, maybe Gloria would fire you and then you can jump off the roof and never think about the way his eyes darkened as you opened the door again. You were so far down that rabbit hole that you didn’t hear him come up.

“She’s up for an x-ray as we speak.”

You startled a bit but nodded your head once you registered what he said before turning to face him. He looked good, he always looked good when he had on that bemused smile and held your stare.

“I wanted to apologise for whatever she said if you’re uncomfortable-”

You started babbling, words falling from your mouth in a river of apologies and excuses as he took the jacket you didn’t even notice he had over his arm and placed it around your shoulders and you shut up at the motion, his hands still on your shoulders.

“You look like you’re cold, cowboy. It’s a good look on you, but I think you always look good. I also think you are my favourite face I have seen all day- maybe ever. Hell, I might have to send your friend a fucking great wedding present.”

“What?”

He takes half a step closer and your breath hitches in your throat.

“I’m going to kiss you because that’s what I have wanted to do from the first day I saw you, not just now, not because you walked in looking like a western fantasy, not because I’m sorry for you or whatever you might cook up in that brilliant head-”

You cut him off this time, sneaking hands around his neck, pulling him to your height and kissing him. Your lips move together and it’s soft and steady and strong and everything you imagined it would be and it feels so right.

“Was there a hat with the outfit?”

“Fuck off Jack.”

“Say it again.”

“What, fuck off?”

“No, my name.”

And you’re both smiling so hard you think your face might split.

“Yeah- it was pink.”

And he laughs before kissing your cheek and you think that’s something you could get used to.

[monolotus]

⸺ not so common partner privileges

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒

maknae line

Scoups: you get to listen to the demos

– Normally, is to get a no-professional opinion, wanting to hear about what he could change or improve on his sound or flow.

– But sometimes, when he is really proud of a demo, he just has to tell you about it

– And, knowing him, you know is to receive praise, being the leo he is.

– Oh well, the songs are actually good. so how can you not praise him for it?

Jeonghan: teaming together

– You gained your place as his second player.

– Yes, you may have bribed him with kisses and praises, but you are also really good at looking innocent and lying to his teammates.

– So, how can he say no to team up with you when you look at him across the room, ready to take out Mingyu on the first round?

– He is a weak man, after all.

Joshua: takes the lead

– As a person that prefers to follow rather than to lead, is not so common for him to decide for you.

– For example, you ask him to get take out for dinner? He will ask you what you’re craving, or what kind or food, or how greasy you want the meal

– But, whenever he sees you too stressed from constantly having to take decisions, he is ready to help you with it.

– Will decide for you what you’re eating, what you’re watching- even the time you’re going to sleep that night.

– Not because he likes to control you like this, not at all. But because he knows it helps you relax that brain of yours.

Jun: expresses his emotions

– When Minghao listens to Jun say a quick “love you” to you through the phone, he doesn’t really believe it.

– Jun? just expressing himself? just like that? without blushing or shutting himself after?

– But, it is common to you to experience a raw Junhui. A Junhui that will look deeply into your eyes, before smiling and saying how much you mean to him

– A Junhui that, between giggles, will explain to you how he fell in love with you. But also a Junhui that will hide himself on the crook of your shoulder when his members start begging for a little of the love he shows to you, mumbling a quick “love y’all” before blushing.

Hoshi: Supports your silence time

– He is not quite sure why you love meditating so much, or why he is asking Myungho for tips on how to help you.

– Well, he does know. Because he loves you.

– So, when Minghao gives him a couple of candles and some youtube channels to help you meditate, he is quick to thank the youngest.

– He even tries to sit down with you to meditate, he bought you matching pads to meditate and do yoga with.

– He is too hyper tho, but he tries his best, always. For you.

Wonwoo: calling dibs on a camera roll

– He doesn’t really care anymore.

– Nowadays, he even takes pictures of specific scenarios because he just knows you will like them.

– When he gets the roll back, he can already see how many pictures you’re giving to take away from him.

– It’s okay tho, your instagram and journal will look cute with those pictures.

Woozi: sleeping privileges

– He hates how you can just command him to go sleep.

– Is like if you’ve got superpowers. It creeps him out.

– He had been going strong on the (he wants to believe) last hour of the studio session. Sleep? He doesn’t need it. Energy? Is at its fullest. Did he write much in the last two hours? No. Did he make much progress? Not either.

– So, when he peeks your name on his lock screen, he’s quick to text you back. And, just like that, the energized Woozi is feeling his eyes heavy, and his hands need to hold you.

– He can see he had one too many missed calls from Hoshi and Vernon, and he was quick to tell the eldest about his where about.

– And, he was just as quick to get to you, and to bed.

– Is not the first time you’ve done this. It surprises him how easily you can put him to sleep, as if you were a deity of sleep.

[kyri45]

✨Spicynoodles Bio Parents AU Q&A! 07/07✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach/Spicynoodles Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: I wonder what heaven's reaction to Kai being born was like Oh no they're multiplying because redson was the one who made the samadi fire when he was born and mk being the harbinger of chaos and son of Sun Wukong and Macaque that inherited both his parents' powers how strong would kai be truly? @lulushadowpeach ha chiesto: Question wouldn't the celestial realm see Kai as a threat to them?

haha heaven was worried af. Though this time is actually quite justified.

@virtualjellyfishcolor ha chiesto: ..wait how did freenoodls kiss go? (also sorry if I’m wasteing your time)

you mean this one?

@blue1lotus ha chiesto: Just out of interest, does the skull that Yuèbèi has give people a ginormous headache and kills them after three days?

only if they pisses her off/hj

@internet-grab-my-tumblr ha chiesto: So Wukong and macaque still have occasional episodes where their trauma gets to them…how did Yuebei react the first time she saw Wukong have a panic attack or Macaque go intangible and mute? I’m sure they try not to let her see but she’ll witness it eventually…

Yes they do, and they will teach their daughter also that this is somewhat normal, and she doesn't have to worry too much about it, and what little she can do to help her distress parent alongside the other parental figure.

@shilo1998 ha chiesto: I remember you said Yuebei looked different during an eclipse like MK can you show us please?

she's ginger like wukong when the shadow part of herself is removed by the moonlight

@optimistic-mythani ha chiesto: Will Goldren Vision secretly aid Kai? Like, imagine if Kai thrust things that Goldren Kision is something a Fire wire Weilter has in addition to the tire element, like Cole’s superstrength. Kai, honey, it really isn't apart of your fire element. Does Kai even remember his real parents, or are they just a blur? How young were Kai and Nya when he got Isakai’d?

Haha yeah sorry Kai that power aint related to the golden ninja or yor fire powers.

They were older than when canonically in the show Maya and Ray got kidnapped

ABOUT MY THOUGHTS ON SHIPS:

@cybernetsworld ha chiesto: Hi Kiri, I wanted to ask you now that you're doing a ninjago and monkie kid crossover what your favorite ship in Ninjago is or if you ship with whom (my fav ship in Ninjago is Lava (cole x kai)) (btw. I love the idea that kai MK's and red son's child is) @ka1-11 ha chiesto: Can we get an opinion on Lava?As in Cole×Kai I mean @l4yl6 ha chiesto: Okay I kind of really am curious since you just entered into the ninjago fandom and you're doing a comic of Kai being the child of Spicynoodles🤭 I really need to ask, who do you ship Kai with ??? 😍 (Personally I ship him with Cole, yeah I'm a lavashipper😋😌) @chocolatekoaladaze ha chiesto: What do you think Lava (Cole and Kai)? @mischiefmelody ha chiesto: Hello! I know you're not planning on having any centric ships in the Ninjago Dr x LMK comic (aside from a little Jaya), but can I ask your thoughts about Geode (Geo x Cole)?

I really liked their interactions in Dragon Rising!!(about Geode) The found family with like adoptive kids is so real. For other ships, I'm really open to most ships in the Ninjago, however, I don't feel like there's hasn't been a ship I've been really connecting to. I do see the appeal and the interactions in each of them, but I mostly see the ninjas too much as family to actively ship just 2 of them. (it's either that or they are all in a queerplatonic relationship, lol).

Outside of my personal preference, I wont dive too much into shipping in the Spicynoodles Bio Parents AU, moslty to not start ship wars (there are a TONS of shipping alternatives in this fandom) and also cause I've been trying to find space in the plot but there's already way too much stuff (also canon to the current Dragon Rising S3) in the way to also add a side-romance story aside spicynoodles and a little of past Jaya. (compared to the Shadowpeach Bio parents au, where Spicynoodles had much more time and space in-story to develop off screen.)

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Okay but the fact that Kai keeps trying to hook up with Skylor, who's father owns a noodle business (albeit it's a front) that she later inherited is really hilarious bc Kai is a fire user Two generations of Fire user × Noodle Business Nepobaby (kinda) The Perfect Ship

It is a genetic trait it seems indeed

@sakurablossoms-world ha chiesto: So when in the Ninjago timeline does your comic take place? Also funny idea (I know you mentioned earlier that you’re not really big on Ninjago ships including canon ones, but this idea has been swirling in my brain since you mentioned Kai being MK and Redson’s kid), imagine the reason Kai was attracted to Skylor (the elemental master of amber) is because she reminds him of both his parents in various ways On the note of romance would I be wrong in assuming that Mei would be simultaneously chill and extremely judgmental regarding Jay

After season 3 of dragon rising. I did saw Part 2 leaked, but we are missing the final episodes so I don't want to start from Episode 18. and just proceed on an hypotetical point where Thunderfand was resolved". Yes Mei would be extremely protective when she learns her daughter is dating someone.

@soul2008 ha chiesto: First things first, love your art and au's I have a question, was your Spicynoodle Kid Kai born in a similar manner as Yuebi (aka stone egg). If not how? (If your comfortable answering)

he was born the normal, mortal way

@poisonblob ha chiesto: Hello! I just had a quick question. I was wondering if I could redraw a small scene of your ShadowPeach Bio parents comic? It's mainly for my own digital practice but I will credit you if I do end up posting it. If I'm not allowed to then that's fine. Love your art btw! I got the stylized character illustration thing and it's helped me immensely so I just wanted to thank you for getting me into art again. -Blob

Oh yeah sure, as long as you don't trace it. You can even post it as long as you tag me.

@laokezredo ha chiesto: okay I know this isn’t a question but OMG I just needed to tell you how amazing your art style is. There’s something about it that just seems so flowy and beautiful to me, and the latest art with Kai’s hair on fire is soooo good!! I can’t wait to see the rest of the story unfold and keep up the awesome work! :D

Thank you!

@theblackrosewriter ha chiesto: Hello! I was wondering what your designs for the Ninjago crew will look like? Also, I love your Monkie Kid AU comics! They're an absolute delight, and I've been reading them ever since they started. You're an amazing artist! Thank you for giving us this wonderful story to follow and love!

their "human looking" designs are these ones.

@unknownmonkeydemon ha chiesto: Hi, just wanted to say I love your au's, but I wanted to ask, in shadow peach bio parent au, Mac is mama and wukong is baba, what will mk and reason be in the new spinoff, will it be like reason is the dad and mk is the mom, or will it be pretty much reversed, love your art and comics!

MK is Baba and RedSon is "father"

@ghostedmercury ha chiesto: it seems Kai is destined to have a goatee in the future, what do you have to say about that?

it fits his character

ycelestin811 ha chiesto: I have a question: Will Kai find out he is adopted by the Smith family Ray and Maya in Ninjago? And does Kai have romantic feelings for Skylor after the crystallized.

Canonically not anymore, since she's has been missing since the Merge

@gremlinpen ha chiesto: someone needs to warn Kai of the dangers of being a main character in one of you comics. I assume many bricks are on the way? (Good luck with the comic! You have once again made my day!) :D

of course

@yelling-into-aboid ha chiesto: Speed ran both your Shadowpeach Bio AU and the sequel, second star. Loved it so much T^T!!!! Followed!! Can't wait to see what you do next!! (Looking at that Spicy noodles Kai au 0^0)

Aw thank you!

@authorofcelesti ha chiesto: What seasons of Ninjago do we have to watch to have the full context for the Spicynoodles bioparents comic?

at least what happens in Dragon Rising, up to the entire S3 P1 (if u can watch also P2 it would be lovely). Then it's up to you to at least read a summary of everything that has happened before in NInjago because basically everything, outside the year in which ray and Maya were kidnapped, is canon, and small parts of what happened in the past seasons will be mentioned.

@ablujay ha chiesto: For the spicynoodles bio parents au, are you strictly going off of ninjago dragons rising or the whole show? (Also I hope you are having a great day!!)

both. I'm not really a fan of the "Ninjago was so full of plot-holes you can decide what is canon and what is not". I don't care if everything was incredibly incosistent, I fell like it's my job as a writer to be able to work with what we canonically have. The only fandom that is the exeption to this rule for me is Voltron LD lol

@blognamebelieveit ha chiesto: Hi hi hi Kyriii!! <33 I have a widdle Question abt MK, if you don’t mind answerin’ :3 and sorry for bothering you again if I did… SOOO, Ik dat MK’s immortal… But like HOW Immortal??? I mean like… Is he Wukong type immortal? As in won’t die to any attack (as in being jumped in the most brutal way and is still alive) or like if his head’s exploded in some way or he’s stabbed in his heart of whatever and still be alive…. Or is he Macaque type immortal? Like he’s immortal by age, but can die? Because I came up with a scenario for MK where he did something so bad that he SHOULDVE died but didn’t and I just want some confirmation cuz yah.. (btw I’m okay <3) THANK YOU, AND HAVE FUN AND SUCCESS WORKING ON YOUR OTHER COMICS!!1!1!2!!!!!

he is not invincible. he is like super strong but there are things that can kill him. yes if you cut his head he will die

@fadingpoetrycoffee ha chiesto: ☆hi Kyri!☆ I have a question about the “new” spicy noodles fic/comic（╹◡╹) 🤍🌟Is mk little sister older in the fic? (Even if she’s not in it)🤍🌟 🌸⭐️Also! Is macaque and wukong grand parents?☆🌸⭐️

she is older yes. Shadowpeach are now grandparents of Kai, yes.

@talereader ha chiesto: Hi i am a huge fan of your art and your comics. I have a question about the Spicynoodles Bio Parents comic if you are game. Alot of people in the ninjago fandom have noticed that Kai and Nya kinda claimed Lloyd as theirs. I mean the team all obviously think of each other as family but the Smith siblings have extra big siblings vibes with him ya know. So my question is will that kind of dynamic be used here are do you see their relationship differently? P.s are Kai x Skylor a ship of interest?

Loyd and Kai have a brotherly relationship. I'm ok with KaixSkylor but canonically the relationship has ended

@fjtrickster-blog ha chiesto: In that flashback with Kai and MK where he's put paint all over his face I can't help but notice the trailing ribbon behind him in that panel and the next one. I'm curious if that indicates he was trying to give himself a tail too. If so that's adorable. Love your art have a great day!

technically that was his tail haha

@dark-12234 ha chiesto: Hello kyri! I was wondering if you'll ever make a comic of the days we're apricot grows from a baby to an adult🥺 Also you should really take a break from all the comic making, you're art has improved so much that I honestly wonder if you ever take like 5 minutes break Please take some rest😔 And I'm also wondering on what brush do you use, im not sure if I have seen what brush you use or I might have forgotten a post.... I'm also sorry if I'm bad at English heheh....I'm Filipino

No I wont do a story about all of her growth, but you might see her again

@authorofcelesti ha chiesto: I love the new spicynoodle bioparents AU! Can't wait to see where you go with it! Out of curiosity, do you have a set update schedule like with the shadowpeach AU? Or will it be more sporadic (like the ISAT/SKY AU until a few months ago)? Again, I absolutely love your writing and art!

I will try posting 2/3 times a week depending on how much my 2 jobs are killing me

@nica0509 ha chiesto: Hello. A question, in your AU where Kai is the son of Redson and Xiaotian, Nya whose daughter is she? and Ray and Maya then found them by chance when they came to ninjago and decided to adopt them?

she's Mei daughter. Also Ray and Maya were quite close by when they were Isekai-ed so they didn't wander around too much

@mkthemonken ha chiesto: this isn't a question it's just something I want to say. Thank you so much for the new comic that you're gonna make. I'm so excited for it all the work you're putting into this I just love it. Thank you so much. Every time I read your comics it makes my day and I'm just so happy. Right now I'm not really good at making comics but I really want to try. Do you have any tips to try to make comics because I really don't know how to but I'm going to try. I just love your comics so much. Again, thank you and we love you so much and this fandom needs you to keep it alive...... have a nice day. I know this is a lot, but I just don't know how to put it in words, so thank you

Aww you're welcome!

@kingofendlessdc ha chiesto: Can I just say I love your Kai art so much! And I love the idea that Kai is a byproduct of Red son and MK. Specifically since I’ve always thought LMK and Ninjago took place in the same multiverse. Also, after LMK Season 5 I had a sort of crack theory that Lord raz’s master and the person Xianglu said was winning are the same person since it seems like both of the cartoons are heading to a multiversal aspect. Furthermore, the place Lord Raz goes when his master contacts him is eerily similar to the primordial chaos xianglu goes to at the end of LMK season 5.

It truly does! doesn't it?

@paloriee ha chiesto: Hihi!! So idk anything about ninjago but I am very excited for the new comic!! I'd like to dive into the universe so what TV shows/movies/whatever do you recommend? Thanks :D

Ninjago is long. technically I will reference stuff happened in almost every season. If u wanna watch everything go for it. Main thing is that you know the basic of what happened in each and what happens in Dragon rising to each character and the universe

[jawusa]

[4t2] Sixam - Secret Alien World for TS2 ^^

Remember my 4t2 Sixam project I started 2 years ago? Which I almost scrapped but revisited sometime last year? ... well, I've got good news for you then. It's finally out now! ^^

Welcome to Sixam!

Sixam Academy is a prestigious intergalactic university on the planet of Sixam that provides special training for aspiring students to become Birth Queens, Colony Drones, or even the latest innovation in alien technology: Pollination Technicians. The academy offers hands-on experiences, collaborative research, and cultural exploration, alongside interstellar expeditions, nurturing a community focused on curiosity, inclusivity, and innovation.

Yes, I recreated the secret alien world from TS4 for TS2 as a custom university subhood! Why as a university subhood you may ask? Well, I tried to keep the original vibes of Sixam of it being an "unlockable"/visitable place your sims can explore rather than a regular neighborhood your sims can live in!

Well, even after graduation, your sims can actually stay and live in the university subhood using Lamare's YAs can enjoy maternity (and all that) mod, as well as Lamare's Pets at University mod!

While technically it's a university, it could easily also be just a downtown or a main hood, as it includes quite a few urban city-style residential & community lots that a main hood/downtown would also otherwise have… just all in sci-fi/alien theme, of course! ;)

Download: MTS | Simblr.cc | SFS

More info under the cut...

Neighborhood Info:

Requires only Uni/NL/OFB EP and no CC were used to build the lots - I made this without Apartment Life EP, so TS2 Super Collection users can also use it, but in the future, I might also make an alternative version as an actual downtown with apartment lots!

No camera mod is needed, yet, still recommended for easier gameplay, especially since some lots were built on skyscrapers and can be hard to view with just the vanilla camera.

Number of Sims: 90 (10 playable sims in 4 playable families, 31 townies, 44 NPCs, 5 dead sims)

Number of Lots: 35 (7 residential lots, 2 Greek houses, 5 dorms, 1 secret society, 20 community lots, where 8 of which are owned businesses)

Gameplay Info:

Speaking of lots, I made lecture halls for every major, which you could use with beestew's Active Classes mod! These are community lots, featuring skill-building equipment and study spaces, with NPC professors (as lot owners) available for tutoring whenever your sims visit.

I also made an optional custom skybox and custom lighting file for Sixam that will make it always nighttime (Yes, you heard right! The sun never shines here on Sixam!) with subtle seasonal color changes - reddish in Autumn, bluish in Winter, and greenish in Spring.

While the empty version should be CC-free, the inhabited version requires the 3 alien skintones (blue/turquoise/violet) from my [4t2] aliens set to keep the TS4 alien characters like Aileen Rauvu authentic. As giving all these colorful aliens the default green skin instead felt as bad as white-washing, say, giving black characters like Olive Specter a lighter skintone for me. An alternative CC-free version with no CC skintones is also available for players who prefer to not have any CC skintones in their games, though.

I also recreated some characters from TS4, especially all the characters from the The Sims 4 Get to Work: Sul Sul trailer. Every character comes with a complete set of ancestors (at least parents) and customized memories, even townies and NPCs! Some also come with interesting lore! Even though, they're just... townies! Oh, and everyone has genetic infant faces! Yayy! XD

Speaking of characters, scripted events don't work in subhoods, but I wrote a text in each family description that somewhat mimic the scripted event notifications anyway. I think this is a brilliant and fun way of introducing new characters, even in university subhoods. All households should also have a complete set of family album pictures that show their lore a bit. ^^

Recommended Mods:

All notownieregen/antiredudancy/nodormiespawn/nossrespawn mods. All university townies/NPCs in Sixam are aliens.. or at least have a very good reason why they're there, but this can easily be ruined if you don't have these mods installed, lol.

bloodredtoe's Mannequin babies can be born mod. To have more variety, I used the mannequin skintone for some of the alien sims. While this mod isn't required, it's recommended to prevent crashes, especially when these aliens have offspring, as there's a chance they could inherit the mannequin skintone.

Squinge's No Townie Memory Loss. Again, townies and NPCs in this neighborhood are highly customized and I recommend getting no townie amnesia mods to prevent their lore from getting wiped out! As there are a few clues in the bios of some of the townies... including long lost twins!

lingeringwillx's Restore Default Names for Sims in Subneighbohoods . This is especially helpful, not only because the townies/NPCs are related to the playable sims, but also, it will help to maintain the alien atmosphere of Sixam with names like Pollination Technicians, Colony Drones or Birth Queens, etc. instead of having EA's default townie/NPC names.

Install Instructions:

This download consists of 3 parts:

Neighborhood itself:

Place the USXM folder into your PROGRAM FILES/EA Games/The Sims 2 University/TSData/Res/NeighborhoodTemplate folder

Note: If you have TS2 UC, it's PROGRAM FILES/EA Games/The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection/University Life/EP1/TSData/Res/NeighborhoodTemplate

Note: If you have TS2 Legacy, it's PROGRAM FILES/EA Games/The Sims 2 Legacy/EP1/TSData/Res/NeighborhoodTemplate

2. OPTIONAL: Custom skybox (& 3 new alien skintones):

Place the Sixam CC folder into your DOCUMENTS/EA Games/The Sims 2/Downloads folder

Note: If you have TS2 UC, it's DOCUMENTS/EA Games/The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection/Downloads

Note: If you have TS2 Legacy, it's DOCUMENTS/EA Games/The Sims 2 Legacy/Downloads

3. OPTIONAL: Custom lighting (for enabling 24/7 nights):

Place the sixam_lot.txt file into your PROGRAM FILES/EA Games/The Sims 2 Mansion & Garden Stuff/TSData/Res/Lights folder

Note: If you have TS2 UC, it's PROGRAM FILES/EA Games/The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection/Fun with Pets/SP9/TSData/Res/Lights

Note: If you have TS2 Legacy, it's PROGRAM FILES/EA Games/The Sims 2 Legacy/EP9/TSData/Res/Lights

Credits:

To EA for creating Sixam in the first place, even though it was originally created for the wrong game ;)

Makers of SimPE (especially with the newest version, allowing creation of customized NPCs!)

Mootilda for all her amazing tools, especially LotCompressor, LotAdjustor, HoodChecker, and her tutorial on how to create a custom subhood template.

Numenor for his AnyGameStarter, allowing for the creation of a Uni/NL/OFB only environment.

@lowedeus for his original skybox, which I recolored and modified to make the skybox season-friendly, as well as @criquette-was-here for the tutorial on how to make nhood objects glow at night.

Gwenke for the original ocean surface nhood deco, which I also recolored and modified to make it glow at night.

@catherinetcjd for all her inspring builds and also for being such an amazing friend. I recommend her Isosceles Apartments, Experiment 4.2, The Colony as well as her Pyramid Commune No. 9 Live, specifically as optional additional lots for this neighborhood. I learned a lot from you in the past few years of neighborhood and lot building!

Creusa Sims for her support and love while I was creating this neighborhood. It was fun discussing some of the lore in this neighborhood with you. XD

@lordcrumps for also being such an amazing friend! It was you who kept pushing me to actually redo the skybox when I wasn't happy with the draft version, lol! And also for your helpful inputs very early on. ^^

@lamare-sims for being such a talented modder and her amazing mods that make living in university subhoods possible in the first place! This concept wouldn't have otherwise made sense.

That's it for now I guess? I hope you have as much fun with this neighborhood as I had building it! <3

[axetivev]

— Summary: In a very sad Monday (at least, that was your perspective), you and Wu Xiangli, a new member. Had a role of assassinating a corrupt commander who was in a party for "high class", fortunately for Xiaoling, he was the one who executed the killing. Unfortunately for you, you were the bait.

— Warnings/Tags: Crossdressing (reader wears a maid outfit), Mentions of blood, Violence, Age gap [ Xiangli is two years younger ], Non-con touching, Asshole commander, Feminization (?), Gruesome scenes, Handjob, Fingering. Getting caught.

— Words: 4.3k

— A/N: yeah.... small info, if you read my violist reader drabble. i must apologize that my fics took longer to be uploaded. i've been sick for the past few days, and work also made it worse. fear not, i'm writing the fic after i finished this ! i'm not critically sick. i'm always available if you want to talk with me. that's all, I hope you enjoyed this fic !!

— Pairing: Oc!Wu Xiangli x Male!Reader

— translate ! : 哥哥 = Brother (this can be used for non family members)

BEFORE YOU READ WHATEVER THIS IS. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THIS FIC INCLUDES GORE. YOU HAD BEEN WARNED.

If you could be honest, never in your life you imagine yourself working to be a assassin.

Your work was mostly dealt with murder (obviously), working by violence, having to work with dangerous people, and the possibility that you were a victim of assassination itself. Yes—thought, the pay was high. Is it worth it? For you, unfortunately. It’s a yes. Even though the chances of you getting killed was high, you found yourself having a lot of friends working for at least that you recall, four years experience.

You’ve work for this organization, Paxxy Internationals. Sometimes, you’d laugh to yourself because the name was a bit childish the name was—but that same organization what brings you here. Paxxy’s base was relatively close to your apartment, actually. It’s a convenient store. The workers were also your co-workers, you sometimes question yourself; how can people didn’t know? It’s somewhat weird for a convenient store that’s normal 24/7, closed at 12 P.M. or worst, not open for a whole week straight.

When the morning comes, fuck. It’s Monday. A groan as you sat up on the edge of your bed, praying your phone didn’t had so much notification.

Oh yep. Never mind.

Your friends, well. Work friends kept spamming you about a new guy coming in. Your colleagues knew you like men. But this is just absurd and just bullshit, just because it’s a guy. Doesn’t mean you automatically liked him!

——————————————————————

i heard he’s cute!

@[Name] wake up you idiot, raise and shineeeeee~

@[Name]

@[Name]

@[Name]

@[Name]

@[Name]

Guys, let him at least try to process whatever you little shits spam at him

——————————————————————

You don’t really had the energy to reply everyone’s bullshit. You simply yawned as you slowly scroll up, your colleague, Zhuxin sent a picture of Wu Xiangli. Just a simple glance, you already hated the fact he looked pretty. Messy black hair with hazel eyes. He isn’t practically muscular, he does had some muscle but not a lot like one of your male colleague, Xavier.

——————————————————————

i’m coming…

stop bombarding me with texts

——————————————————————

You turned your phone, you stood up from bed, letting it messy. Because, who would even come to your apartment anyway?

“[Name]! you do came.” Zhuxin’s voice echoed around the Paxxy’s meeting room. You came in with your usual suit, with Paxxy’s logo on your suit’s collar.

You grumble as you took your chair, which was next to Zhuxin. “As much as I hate that Mei and Touya terrorize me this morning, I still prefer to be here then in the apartment,” you sighed. Then added quietly. “Even thought I had to see their stupid faces…”

Zhuxin rolled her eyes, amusing by your comment. “Boss is coming a bit late, he said he had to help his wife about something, but he asked me to give you this,” she explained, giving you a sheet of paper. “Give this to [Name], he said.”

You raised and eyebrow, accepting the paper she gave you. “And this paper being?”

“To not use violence and followed the rule on your mission later. He doesn’t want Wu Xiangli to follow your steps OR traumatized a new co-worker.”

It’s relatively funny to remember that day when you first met Itto Touya, you just threw the plan like it was nothing when you and him was signed to kill a corrupt governor. The fact you still remembered it vividly—you stabbed that governor in the face—12 times—you saw Touya’s face paled when he saw blood on your face, as you kicked that corpse like nothing but rock. At the end, it resulted by Touya scared of going to work for a week or so.

“That man…” You sighed. Thanking Zhuxin after she gave you a pen, what you had to fill was just a yes and no question. Only two but it’s hard for you to held back to choose violence.

After you filled the paper, you decided to had a conversation with Zhuxin. You had a long conversation about a lot of things, until you lost track of time. Since most of your colleague was there, and your boss, Kamishiro was in front of the board. He rubbed his eyes, you noted that his eye bags had increased, maybe because he had to deal with his kids at home.

“Right so—” Kamishiro shuffled between his papers, he cleared his throat. His voice slowly sounding smooth yet professional. “I’m sure, here. Everyone knew why I called you there; we are getting a brand new member to our team.”

To think about it… there’s only five people who’s working for Paxxy, including this new member obviously, everyone already knew.

“Well then—please, welcomed Wu Xiangli .” Kamishiro extended his hand, everyone’s gaze met with Wu Xiangli.

He was identical to what Zhuxin sent on the group chat, even better—for a moment. Your professional face slowly melted, you mindlessly stare at the man in front of you—well, everyone. Xiangli was standing next to Kamishiro, your boss was around 183 cm Xiangli was seemingly taller, maybe your rough guess was around 187 cm.

Kamishiro when runs around everybody’s seats. Giving everyone a profile about Wu Xiangli, it wasn’t really detailed. The profile of Xiangli was rather simple—the profile card includes him with a neutral face, that still, he looks so pretty…

How many prettiest do you even use…

Name : Wu Xiangli

Age : 23

Nationality : Chinese

Height : 188 cm [6’2]

Weight : 72 [ 158 ibs]

Probably because of the muscle… you muttered to yourself as you bore to the profile. Your eyes just stare at that face, as if it hypnotize you. Zhuxin, who was beside you slow nudged your shoulder. A low chuckle escaped from her lips. Shit, you were caught!? You let out a cough that caught Xiangli’s attention, he smiled at you. Charismatic and innocent.

Is he though?

“Right, since all of us seated facing each other, I suggest Xiangli sat next to [Name]. Since his left is empty.” You snapped back to reality when Touya raised his hand. What even happened? Were you day dreaming? You looked at Zhuxin, who immediately avoiding your gaze. In front of you—Touya, Mei, and Xavier also did the same. Kamishiro just nodded thoughtfully, without another thought. Assigned Xiangli to sat next to you.

You couldn’t really bite back at your boss. Well, your salary would probably get decreased if you did it again. You sat on your place with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as Xiangli next beside you. He adjusted his navy suit and Paxxy logo you yourself confused how did he get it so quickly. You stared at the Paxxy logo.

For new members to obtain it, they’ll have to face intense training for roughly six months. No exceptions, gender nor age. You’ve trained Touya in the past, and you’ve also seen how Zhuxin trained Xavier and Mei. Don’t forget, a lot of people who signed up for Paxxy didn’t last for a week. Dropping out the job because it was too much, but here is Xiangli. Proudly wearing the logo, you didn’t recall Zhuxin or other members training him, because when a new member came. Everyone had to rate his progress.

How odd…

“Is something wrong with me, ah… 哥哥?” Xiangli pointed at himself as he titled his head a shy smile formed between his lips. He looked so innocent, really.

You shook your head. “Sorry, a little distracted. Just… call me [Name], it’s fine.”

Xiangli’s eye lightened up. But there was a hint of worry in his eyes. “Isn’t it a bit… you know.”

“I’d rather be called my name then my last.” You said, shrugged as you looked back at Kamishiro who already ended the meeting.

Everyone—Zhuxin, Mei, Touya, and Xavier rose from their seats, followed by you. As others left, Kamishiro coughed. Which took your attention and Xiangli towards him. Hos thumb pointed back, showing to the back alley.

“So, [Name] and Xiangli.” Kamishiro leaned against the wall. “Since today is Xiangli’s first day at Paxxy, today. A corrupt commander under the fake name Li Yao. We haven’t known much information from him.” He sighed disappointed, Kamishiro tapped his watch. A small hologram projector appeared about “Li Yao” information.

Name : Li Yao[?]

Age : –

Nationality : Chinese

Height : 190 cm [6’2.8]

Weight : 76 kg [167 ibs]

ㅤㅤ> Information: A commander that had work for approximately 5 years. In his third year of work, “Li Yao” was secretly killing those who were lower then him. If his victims nor suspects tried to speak up, he’ll blackmail them. In his fourth year mark. He corrupted around 245000 Yuan [34015,97 USD] without consequences. There’s currently not much information about him…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ→

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤto be continued~

The picture, which was suppose to be filled by “Li Yao”, was empty… filled by a blank male. Your gaze harden when you stare at the void profile. You groaned in frustration, while Xiangli was looking at the info board. As if he tried to study the very information.

“Unfortunately, we can’t find any detailed information about him,” Kamishiro sighed defeated as he rubbed his temple. “However, commander Li Yao’s ex-partner. Asked to assassinating him, he said, and I quote; This evening. Li Yao held a ceremony for the anniversary of him being a commander, in a mansion that’s privately his. I’ll give you the coordinates later, let me know.”

Xiangli placed his index and thumb over his chin. He then slammed his right hand, that’s in a fist to his left hand. As if he figured something. “I think I know where would this mansion be.”

Kamishiro raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Li Yao may had many mansions. But I can take my guess that this mansion where we celebrate his anniversary is inside of the forest that’s far from the city.” Xiangli explained. His voice was surprisingly calm. “I had a feeling that this manor of his was the “haunted” house that people rumored to once became a place of murder.”

You and Kamishiro paused for a moment, he then added. “How so? Because once, my relative was hunting around the same forest and heard music right underground.”

“Are you sure that it’s not a made up story?” You countered. Xiangli shook his head as he pulled out his phone. “I have evidence.”

The light of Xiangli’s phone slowly shined inside of the empty alley, firstly, a video showed. It was a voice of a male in chinese that sounded faded, but there’s a sound like from 1980-an classic that echoed in the background. Xiangli than swipe right, showing foto, a window with a glimpse of a party. Even a picture of a man and woman making you.

“Gross…” You whimpered, Kamishiro rolled his eyes at you. He inspects the picture longer then he should, your boss slowly nodded approvingly.

“Wu Xiangli is responsible of this project—” “WHAT!?” Your voice practically echoed around the Paxxy’s office. Some staff looked at you with concerned. “Kamishi—Boss. Hey, I thought Zhuxin said that—”

You boss ignored you, well there’s no point of arguing with you. Kamishiro looked at Xiangli, his hand clasped over the younger male’s shoulder. “I assigned you to our project; Elimination LY. You, Xiangli. Will had long talk with [Name] about this project. If did something that’s out of the plan, let me know.”

“Now, get the plan ready.” Kamishiro walked out from the alley, Xiangli’s eyes widened as if he was tasked by god. You just groaned.

It's not like you can’t trust him completely. It’s more because he was new, and the most new members you’ve trained always confused about Kamishiro’s orders, even some still confused how to load a gun. But Xiangli seemed he can do all of those things with ease. Which made you suspicious.

“So, [Name]!! Are you ready to hear the plan?” Xiangli turned to you, the sudden calm and seriousness turned to childish. His hazel eyes sparkled with stars, you slightly caught of guard. But you nodded.

Inside of the empty Paxxy office, you and Xiangli was in front of the hologram projector, showing the “haunted” mansion Xiangli said. Along with the evidence from his phone, how he explained everything was absolutely beautiful. As if he was in a meeting with many important people. But really, he was only with you.

Though, he looked serious. He sometimes paused mid presentation, and smiled at you. It looked so innocent—you hated it. You tried to hide your reddened face but it was difficult by the fact he kept repeating that smile.

Xiangli’s presentation, to put it simply; he planned to use a bait for “Li Yao”, the bait being a specifically male and one executes the killing. He also found two pictures of males he theorized being “Li Yao”, first. A picture of an old man in his 50s and a male in his 30s. After all of that, you were the one telling Kamishiro.

“So. This is all of Xiangli’s plan?” Kamishiro asked, clutching the paper in his hands as he titled his head to look at Xiangli.

“Y–yes, Mr. Kamishiro,” Xiangli answered. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Kamishiro paused for a moment as he nodded his head thoughtfully. “So, your plan is to make a bait. Right?” Xiangli nodded, Kamishiro continued. “Well then, [Name] is the bait.”

You turned your head to Kamishiro, glaring at him. You were staring straight at his soul. But Kamishiro didn’t seemed to be amused, he slowly looked at Xiangli who covered his face with his right hand as he looked down. Both you and Kamishiro looked at him with a confused look.

“Something… wrong?” You broke the silence, Xiangli jolted for a second. His face was red. With what? “It couldn’t be that bad, right?”

“I’m going to fucking kill him…”

Who said that? Obviously, you did. You were seating on the back seat while Kamishiro was driving the car. Never in your life you’d imagine yourself wearing a stupid maid dress for a mission. You placed your hand over your face, honestly. You can refuse but you have corrupt people with a burning passion.

When you arrived at the mansion. It was like how Xiangli describe—it’s still looked like a haunted mansion. But you can hear a song echoed underneath you, the mansion was closed. You didn’t saw the glimpse of the picture however. Kamishiro already left, so you stood there confused—you slowly tapped the small ear comm on your ear.

“Xiangli, tell me the plan.” Your voice was low, you slowly take blind steps. The sound of your booths and the soft hums of creatures of the dark is the only thing company you.

Not long after, Xiangli’s voice came in. “Ah… 哥哥? Are you safe there?”

“Okay okay… so listen carefully; there’s an entrance right around—” “Found it.”

You effortlessly opened an entrance, that was literally in the back of the mansion. You looked around, when you sure everything was safe. You slowly opened the door. Everything seemed gloomy, but you found stairs that lead down. You asked Xiangli, he said with confidence it was where the ceremony is.

You pulled out a cloth from the pocket of your maid outfit, threw it to the stairs and wait. There’s no much signs of danger, so you slowly took some steps down, the sound of music slowly grew louder and louder. There was a door right on the end. You slowly traced over the wooden material, you knocked the door—unsure why. But the door slowly opened, your eyes widened at the sight you were seeing.

The room was big, maybe a wholeass soccer filed, many tables arranged beautifully, flowers, everything was perfect. There were many men in the room—well, obvious. You stood there, looking for a spot to at least, tried to had a convo with Xiangli later on. Your ear comm suddenly lose connection, you cursed under your breath as you walked almost into endless circles until you accidentally bumped with someone.

Your grunted and immediately backed off, you were about to apologize when the man turned his head—a smile formed between his lips.

“Oh, and who you might be?” His voice sounded calm, soft but there’s something under it that you can’t really take a finger on. “Welcome, I suppose you’re a maid here too. Please, I’m Fu Yuan just call me…”

“…Li Yao.”

You froze for a moment, your eyes widened, Li Ya—no, Fu Yuan. It’s rather surprising that you found him so early, usually it took for hours but you somehow able to find him within minutes. His face doesn’t really resembles any of thing that Xiangli showed. He looked like he was in his 20s. You and Fu Yuan also looked similar in age, but you didn’t asked much about it.

“Just call me by Raven.” You used your codename instead. Besides, using your actual name may bring suspicion. “For give me for my recklessness, commander Fu Yuan.”

Fu Yuan had hazel hair—neither from the lighting of that’s his actual hair with a white strain in his hair. His raven eyes met with yours, you actually paused for a moment when you finally noticed he was slightly taller than you. Maybe 181 cm.

“It’s nothing really,” Fu Yuan smiled. It almost too sweet, you tried to keep your guard. He looked at some of his partners, his hand slowly moved over your waist when you tried to find somewhere to communicate with Xiangli, he then dragged you closer. Continuing whatever he was talking about with his partners.

His grip was strong, it tried to squirm away from him. But you felt a hand moving inside of your maid dress, moving up your ass. You looked at Fu Yuan who didn’t seemed to be bothered by what he was doing—he squeezed your cheeks making you gasped.

Fucking asshole!

You flinched your hand into a fist, preparing to his Fu Yuan at his face. When the ear comm suddenly buzzed, you slightly leaned back so the voice couldn’t be heard. You heard sounds when you finally getting connection on the other side. Xiangli was grunting and sounds of men falling one my one. Even sounds of gunshots could be heard.

You heard another gunshot followed by another squeezed on your cheeks by Fu Yuan, you slowly moved the commander’s away when he drank a glass of wine. You walked to an empty corner, a buzz slowly came when you finally heard Xiangli’s voice. Well, more specifically. His pants.

“哥哥, any informations?” His voice sounded ragged. You can correct him, but you sighed as you looked back at Fu Yuan.

Glaring at his back before you finally replied. “Firstly, he was a fucking pervert. Touching someone’s ass without their consent. Secondly, this “Li Yao” is Fu Yuan.”

The side from Xiangli was a full-on silence. You nervously looked around, your eyes slowly met with Fu Yuan’s raven eyes. He smiled at you, you looked at him carefully.

Fuck, he was walking towards you.

Panic slowly filled your heart, when Xiangli was saying something you couldn’t really heard. You immediately turned off your ear comm.

[Xiangli’s POV…]

“哥哥? 哥哥!?” There’s nothing. He waited, and waited. But he didn’t get anything as a response. Xiangli sighed, kicking something as he cursed loudly.

What he was kicking exactly? Corpses, of course! The corpses he had killed that was Fu Yuan’s personal guards that was sent if there were some assassination attempts. He was surrounded by corpses of men, alone in the lower part of the mansion. He leaned into the wall that had crimson. Xiangli stepped on one of the dead bodies, he rested his right arm over his knee as he looked at the corpses. He then looked at the door in front of him, the door where he will met with you.

Xiangli couldn’t deny it that he worried about you. But your words filled his mind; “Firstly, he was a fucking pervert. Touching someone’s ass without their consent.” Fu Yuan harassed someone like you, someone Xiangli never thought he’d actually had feelings for. Born in a dark household and the only thing he knew was to kill to survive. And then he saw someone like you.

Better life… better home… better everything. He may not know much about, but he was willing to know anything for you.

…Guess you ruined the plan. But you don’t have any other choice.

Blood stained your maid outfit. Bodies of man—woman scattered around the room, you pointed your blade at Fu Yuan, who doesn’t seemed to be impressed in any sort of way. His face was all neutral, even though crimson stained his face. The tip of your blade shined thanks to the chandelier.

“Fu Yuan, you. Already did many things that were unforgivable,” your voice went cold—nothing of your usual tone was there. “You’ve killed innocents, blackmailed people… many others.”

You slowly lowered your blade. “But never in my life, I thought you’d touch people without their consent. That’s fucking harassment.”

Your eyes locked with Fu Yuan, moments of silence—he laugh. He fucking laughed. “Ah, Raven… or should I say, [Name]. What’s the problem?”

You clutched your blade, he walked forward. Pulling out his own blade. “Working for Paxxy don’t you? Such pointless organization. It doesn’t matter what you do, the law is blind money was enough for everything. What do they desire? Money! Humanity wanted nothing but cash, [Name].”

Fu Yuan leaned forward, his blade slowly clashed with yours. The steal rubbing against each other, echoing the empty room. “And I happened to had a lot of them.”

You counter Fu Yuan’s attack, immediately. Your eyes aim at his neck, You slide back, Fu Yuan strike his blade. Your eyes widened, even after you counter his attack once more, blood slowly tickled your cheek, crimson fall on the golden floors. The sound of blades clashing to another—slashes was like a song in the mansion.

Even if you had a lot of experience fighting, you found yourself being cornered by Fu Yuan. Some parts of your maid outfit was cut by Fu Yuan’s unforgiving attacks. Blood slowly came from your mouth, you kneel down as you grabbed your chest. Desperately trying to keep yourself together. Fu Yuan was right in front of you, you gulped. Guess this was your faith—

—Bang!

A bullet came in and left Fu Yuan his own blooded cheek, you look to find Xiangli Yao pointing at his gun with a stoic face. Fuck, he looks handsome even with a stoic face—

Since Fu Yuan was off guard, you immediately used your leg to hit Fu Yuan’s, his eyes widened as he stumbled back. You stood up, immediately, you used your elbow and send a blow straight to Fu Yuan’s face. Blood slowly poured in his nose, Xiangli wasn’t silent neither, he used his leg to made the commander tripped backwards, he fisted his hang and give him a punch on the face.

Xiangli’s hazel eyes looked down to Fu Yuan’s raven eyes. Xiangli haven’t said anything—but you already come in. Ending that commander with your blade, stabbing his stomach repeatedly. Fu Yuan’s screams slowly—immediately went quiet. Xiangli just looked at you, eyes widened. He didn’t expect to see someone higher then him—wearing a maid dress but somehow. He still able to show his colors.

Brutal and handsome.

You’d probably didn’t stop when Xiangli pulled you back, his hands gripping your arms. Your maid dress was stained by more crimson, your blade was stuck on Fu Yuan’s body. Your eyes met with Xiangli’s, he was the now staring. Not in a scared way, but more in a way in love.

“…Sorry.” You broke to silence, a sigh running from your lips.

Xiangli raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

You sighed, sitting on top of the dead commander. “For ruined the plan,” you said calmly. “Seriously. This bitch was touching me, what are you expecting me to do? Sit down and let him?”

Xiangli chuckled, shaking his head amusingly. “Sorry for that… [Name]. But I saved you, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Shouldn’t I get a little reward then?” Xiangli kneeled down in front of you, his eyes glamping with mischief.

If Xiangli was a stranger or even worst, Fu Yuan. You’d cringed and probably killed him.

“Does it hurt?” Xiangli rested his head over your shoulder. You slightly squirmed in his lap, you felt a finger inserted to your hole.

Xiangli’s fingers were thick, his fingers may not be the longest, but it was enough to stretch your hole wide. A whimper escaped your lips as he slammed this middle and ring finger, your hands gripped his suit that smelled like metallic from the blood and a strong smell that you assumed was his perfume.

“[Name]…” Xiangli whispered against your ear, you shivered as he thrust his fingers deeper, making you whimpered. His free hand slowly moving to your cock was already leaked out pre-cums. “I need an answer, please?”

“Xiangli… fuck—!” You lolled your head back, your hands gripping Xiangli’s suit harder when moans finally escaped your lips. Both of the sensation of his fingers and hand working together, you panted. But the moment Xiangli’s middle finger rubbed your prostate, you swore you see stars.

…Not until the door where you entered the first you came to the mansion.

Kamishiro, and five other people wearing black suits froze all at once when they saw you. Your lower half naked and sitting on Xiangli’s lap, it was clear what he was doing to you. Those people behind Kamishiro, some covered their eyes, and the other ran out and groaned.

“Xiangli, what is this—” “I thought I may not be able to saved you… so I call for backup. Guess they’re late.” Xiangli whispered, shrugging like it wasn’t a big of a deal. Kamishiro slapped himself seeing both of you.

Never again, you’ll accept Xiangli’s “requests” during missions.

[mariaace]

Can i get a kiss, and can you make it last forever? (Bungo stray dogs man)

A/n:Why am i doing these? I have no idea. Do I have 10 reqs? Yes. Do i still decided to write this instead? Also yes.

Context:Type of kisses with bsd men

Warnings: Slightly suggestive at Dazai's part and maybe Jouno's? Chuuya's part is longer. (Can you blame me?)

Genre:fluff

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Tecchou, Jouno, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

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Dazai Osamu

Dazai's kisses are flirty. He likes to pull you in your lap while you kiss and it often turns inot make out sessions. His hands are always wondering around your body any chance he gets. He often smirks in between kisses when you squirm. He also loves quick kisses, because he catches you off guard with them. If you get flustered easily, he would do it even more often than usual.

Chuuya Nakhara

Chuuya's kisses are passionate. He doesn't like quick kissed more than the normal ones. Of course, he still does them. But he would always prefer to take his time when kissing you. He puts a lot of passion in every single one of them. One of his hand is usually between your cheek and collarbone (somewhere in the area) and his other is on your waist. Most of the time if he doesn't takes his hat off it bumps to your head and falls to the ground. (At first he was embarrassed about it happening, but not anymore.). He also likes when your legs wrap around his waist, because that way you feel closer, while you kiss.

Atsushi Nakajima

Atsushi's kisses are sweet. He puts all of his love into a single kiss. He loves giving you quick kisses, but he also likes the long ones, either way, he will actually show you how much he loves kissing you. His hands usually everytime have a different place, because he can't even decide where to put them. Every time after he kisses you, he tells you he loves you. Just to remind you. (Not that he didn't with the kiss.)

Akutagawa Ryonosuke

Akutagawa's kisses are careless. At first he was scared to kiss you. And to be honest, he kind of still is. His handa never have any idea where to go and he usually doesn't say anything particular after the kiss. He still kisses you so careless tho, because he knows that you love it when he kiss you, and trust me he loves it too. Would he ever admit that? Absolutely not. But you can feel it in the kiss, so.

Tecchou Suehiro

Tecchou's kisses are gentle. Let's be real, this man is strong asf, but he is also oh so gentle with you. His hands are always around your waist, even while kissing you. But is his grip tight? Nope. He holds you like you are a made of glass. Don't let me started on the kissing itself. Teruko once even asked you if you are scared of him doing something. He just is so gentle.

Jouno Seigiku

Jouno's kisses are rough. Yes, the complete opposite of Tecchou's. He bites on your lips, hands squeezing your body, pushing you against a wall, you name it. He's a sadist, what do you expect? Of course he never does it enough to actually hurt you, maybe just a little. But that's for your own pleasure trust me. He almost never kisses quick, because if those reasons.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor's kisses are cold. Not exactly in the aay you're thinking of. They are full of love trust me, but his hands and his lips feel a little cold on your skin and when he puts more pressure onto your lips and his grip, you might squirm a little. He will wonder around with his hands, not because he doesn't know where to put them, but because he loves your reactions to it.

Nikolai Gogol

Nikolai's kisses are funny. He smiles, giggles against your lips, tickles you while you kiss all of a sudden, pick you up out of nowhere, all kinds of different stuff. Quick kisses are soooo common with him, he does them often and out of the blue so it catches you off guard. If you do them to him tho, ohh be prepared to run, cuz he's already trapped you and showering with kisses.

Sigma

Sigma's kisses are simple. He gives the most normal kisses out of everyone, but somehow they always feel different. It sounds cliché, really, but you can feel the love through his kisses. Both of his hands are usually around on your cheeks or resting on your neck. Quick kisses are also common with him, but for the same reason. He likes them, because he thinks it's cute that every time he kisses a different place on your face.

© mariaace 2024 pls do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!

Reblogs are highly appreciated!</3

@transmascaraa @dazailoveschuuya

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - off the record (part eight)

part eight ; no further questions

warnings ; none

prompt ; in which you’re paired with your insufferably charming ex-academic rival turned coworker to cover a congressional scandal, and suddenly, professional boundaries becomes the only thing holding you two apart.

note ; surprise!! it's here a day early because i'm feeling festive in honor of the blackpink concert today (and if by chance any lone soul is also going... 😏) there is SO MUCH to fucking unpack in this chapter. we're talking major cracks in the armor for oc, and jungkook's protective side makes an appearance. his anger is rooted in his respect for her, and it is so beautiful to see, especially since all oc wants is to be seen. jungkook's yearning in this chapter is 11/10 like the man would probably combust into thin air if she touched him willingly. free my bro from the shackles!!! she guards and deflects, he observes and protects... oh they go together real bad. if you can catch all the times oc crashes out internally because she's like why do i feel weird about him, i'll give you a virtual hug 🫂 enjoy, angels!

series masterlist here

playlist here

wc ; 11.3k

“Sorry about that. What were we talking about?”

The sickly sweet smile spread thin across your lips doesn’t do much to deter Jake. In fact, he returns it with a pearly white grin of his own and you swear you see a sparkle deflect off his two front teeth.

“Work problems with Jeon?”

“That seems to be the common theme these days.” You scan the bar desperately for a bartender. Any bartender. Even one who looks like they learned mixology from a YouTube tutorial would be preferable to continuing this conversation sober.

“You two always fight like that?” 

“We don’t fight,” you quip. Which… technically would be true if you don’t count the daily verbal disagreements and whatever the hell just happened in that hallway. Your eyes begin averting around the bar frantically.  “We engage in professional discourse.”

Jake’s eyebrows migrate toward his hairline. “Professional discourse? Is that you call it when someone drags you from some good conversation?”

Finally, a bartender with a man-bun and dead eyes approaches and you nearly launch yourself across the bartop.

“Vodka soda. Strong.” 

The bartender doesn’t question your request and nods as if this is completely reasonable. It probably is, considering he works in the heart of the West Village. 

You ignore Jake’s piercing gaze. “Unless Jungkook’s name legally changes to vodka soda, I don’t want to hear about him again.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs. You have a feeling this topic won’t actually be shelved so much as temporarily tabled. 

God, Jungkook has scrambled your brain like Sunday morning eggs. You don’t want to decipher any of what he said back there. What do you think I mean?

You think he means he’s having a psychological break. 

Jake is a perfectly good man. A successful, attractive, normal person who wants to have dinner (yes, a dinner!) with you because you are interesting, not because you’re some pawn in a game happening in Jungkook’s head. 

The bartender slides your drink across the bar and you snatch it up as quickly as a thief would a million dollars. 

“So,” you start, taking what qualifies as a therapy sip. The vodka burns down your throat.  “How’s it like living here? I mean, it has to beat living on Columbia’s campus.”

Jake’s face lights up like someone just asked him to recite his resume, and based on your college experience, is probably his favorite topic of conversation. 

“It’s incredible. My apartment in SoHo is sick—I think I told you this—but the energy here is crazy. Like, in DC, I’m sure you’re always playing politics but here… here you can make a difference.” 

You nod like a broken bobblehead, although the phrase “make a difference” makes you want to ask if he’s planning to solve climate change with his journalism. Like, is he filming a segment for Disney Channel’s Pass the Plate or something?  “That’s sooo cool. The Times has such a great reputation.”

“Best in the business,” he declares. Alright, calm down, that title is reserved for CNN… not the icky Times. “You know, my editor told me I have an instinct for finding the stories that matter. I once got a story from a tip I cultivated six months ago.”

“Wow… six months? Serious dedication.”

For some reason unknown to every deity in the universe, the word dedication triggers a Freudian slip in your brain. Jungkook’s face when he said he took the Fox job because he knew you’d be on the Hill too. The way he’s been following your work, except now you’re wondering if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t professional at all—

No. Stop. Jake is standing right here, being normal and interested in you. 

“That’s what real journalism takes. Patience. Strategy.” He leans in closer and you catch a whiff of his cologne. It’s sharp, not warm and inviting in the way that always lingers around—

You swallow thickly, derailing that train of thought before it reaches its destination. 

“Totally agree.” Is it 100 degrees in here, or is that just you? The vodka must be mixing poorly with whatever adrenaline is coursing through your body. “You can’t stumble into great stories. You need to know how to position yourself.”

“While we’re on the topic of positioning,” Jake continues, “I actually stumbled across a piece of your work the other day. The one about the municipal elections. You have a lot of really smart takes.” 

Take that, Jungkook. You published that piece three months ago, and it was hardly your most groundbreaking work, but Jake not only read it, but remembered. 

“Thanks. My stuff isn’t exactly Pulitzer material like yours, but—”

“Are you kidding?” he exclaims incredulously, eyes never leaving your face. “You tied the budget vote to the nominee’s answers during the debate. Really smart reporting.”

You’ve always known you were the smartest woman alive. He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’ll be riding the coattails of this high all the way back to DC.

“Though I have to say…” he pauses, mulling over his next words. The veins in his bicep flex as he combs his hand through his hair. “Surprised Jeon didn’t write an article about those elections in retaliation.”

There it is again. Jake, inserting Jungkook into your conversations like some kind of virus. 

“Why would he?” you ask, trying to keep your voice as light as possible. “We don’t work for the same network.” 

“You know how he gets. I mean, wasn’t he in all your classes?’ 

All of them. That’s what happens when you have the exact same major. 

You give Jake a tight-lipped smile in return and play with the straw in your drink. 

“Plus, working in the same building, covering the same stuff…” Jake trails off. “You didn’t get a chance to tell me what those interesting dynamics are like before he snatched you right up.”

You can’t give Jungkook the satisfaction of being right. It would violate every principle you’ve ever held about your own judgement, your ability to read people. But the more Jake keeps redirecting every talking point back to Jungkook, the more the traitorous voice in the back of your head starts whispering that Jungkook isn’t entirely delusional. 

It’s just that… you don’t really remember Jungkook and Jake being nemeses. Sure, you were too busy obsessing over your own academic death match with Jungkook to notice much else, but you feel like “sworn enemies” would’ve registered on your radar. Jungkook was busy enough stealing your thunder, and now he wants you to believe he found time for another rivalry?

You want to ask what the fuck their beef is about, but you know better. 

So you opt for an awkward laugh instead while letting your eyes roam the bar. Jungkook has resumed his post at the table with Pink Blazer, and they seem to be enthralled in conversation. Maybe she understands what he means when he asks cryptic questions like ‘what do you think I mean?’

Maybe she speaks fluent Jungkooknese. 

“So where do you want to go to dinner?” you blurt out, desperate to steer the conversation anywhere else. 

He cocks one eyebrow like you just suggested robbing a bank. “Dinner?” 

“You mentioned dinner earlier. I’m pro dinner. Huge fan of eating.”

“Yeah?”  His expression shifts slightly. “Hm. How about Rao’s? My family keeps a table there and it’s pretty exclusive. My dad became best friends with the head chef back in the 90s when he was still doing real estate in the city, and now we have an open invitation whenever we’re in town, which is sick because the waiting list is usually months long and it’s so fucking good…”

You tune out the rest of his long-winded answer about family connections and culinary networking, because Pink Blazer has put her hand on Jungkook’s arm. 

You’re not jealous. God, that would be embarrassing and irrational. But it’s fascinating to watch someone show genuine interest in him. 

Kind of the way Rosalie did before, but still. Weird. 

“[Y/N]?” 

You snap your eyes back to Jake. He's staring at you expectantly. “Yes. Rao’s. Totally down for that.”

“You sure? You seemed distracted.” 

“I’m not,” you let the words tumble clean from your mouth. “Just… daydreaming about pasta.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He straightens his shoulders and takes a fortifying sip from his drink. “So… this might be random, but do you happen to know if Fox is hiring?” 

What the fuck? 

The shock on your expression must be pretty damn evident, because he starts backpedaling like he’s trying to avoid falling off a cliff. “Not in like, a weird way or anything. I’m just curious about the job market. ‘Cause you know, I love New York, but Fox has some strong political coverage. And I like the Hill.” 

“But Jungkook works there,” you contend. “And I don’t really think you two are the biggest fans of each other.”

He laughs and it quite literally sounds as if it was manufactured in a factory. “Damn, that obvious?”

About as obvious as a neon sign.

“Kind of.” Your eyes are burning daggers into Pink Blazer. You take another sip of your vodka soda as she swishes her perfect jet black hair over her shoulder. 

“Well, the feeling’s mutual,” Jake says. “He’s never been my biggest supporter either.” 

There are red sirens blaring in your head. A smoke detector with dying batteries. A high-pitched whine of warning. Jungkook might be right. The possibility makes you want to sob and throw up and curl in a corner.

“And why is that?” you ask, aiming for nonchalant but landing near suspicion. 

“Just some boring ass college drama.” He waves his hand like he’s swatting away a fly. “Literally not relevant at all. Not even worth getting into.” 

“Must be pretty relevant if you keep bringing him up every five seconds.”

His mouth gapes open as if you just announced you’re a mind reader. He probably wasn’t expecting you to catch onto his obsession with bringing up Jungkook. 

“I dont—I’m not.” He takes a breath. Regroups. “Look, I’m more curious about Fox. It’s not personal.”

“Right, right…” You take a sip of the watered-down vodka in your hand and catch a glimpse of the time on someone’s phone at the bar. 10 PM. This night has aged you ten years. “So curious you’re basically asking me for his biography.” 

“I don’t think I’m the one obsessed with him,” Jake accuses abruptly. You want to throw your drink at his stupidly symmetrical face. 

“Excuse me?” 

You barely register the words leaving your mouth. Your feet are screaming in these heels, you’re nowhere near drunk enough to be having this conversation, and now Jake is implicating you are the one with the obsession problem. This is animal cruelty. 

“I mean, come on. He dragged you from our conversation and you just… went with it.” He seems eerily amused by this. 

“I did not ‘go with it.’ If you haven’t noticed, he’s like, the size of a mountain. Did you want me to challenge him to an arm wrestling match?”

Your body is rejecting this notion. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up with hives all over your limbs and red eyes. 

“I’m just saying.” he pauses, “You’re not exactly innocent either.”

This can’t be the guy you had a crush on in college. That Jake was sweet and thoughtful and didn’t make you feel like you needed a shower after talking to him. 

And also, even if — and if is a strong word — you let yourself be dragged by Jungkook into a bathroom hallway, it’s not like you had much of a choice. 

“Whatever.” You chug the rest of your drink, eyes watering upon impact. “If you’re so interested in Fox, you can ask Jungkook yourself. I’m sure he’d love to help you out.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He seems happy to nip that topic in the bud, moving on like a shark who’s caught a whiff of fresh blood. “So when were you thinking for dinner? This weekend?” 

The thought of sitting across from Jake at some fancy restaurant, listening to him talk about his family’s connections and Jungkook, makes you want to fake your own death and move to a small island where no one has ever heard of journalism. 

There’s bile rising in the back of your throat, blisters forming on the back on your heels, and you feel like shit. 

You want nothing more than to crawl in bed and silently stare at the ceiling. 

“How about… I’ll just text you and we’ll figure it out?” You slam your empty glass on the bartop with enough force that the bartender flinches.

“Do you even have my number?” He asks, blinking incessantly. 

You’re already adjusting your top, calculating the fastest route to the exit. “I’ll ask around.”

“I can just give it to you right now—” 

“No, really,” You brush him off, one foot directing towards the exit. “I’m resourceful. I’ll figure it out.”

“But that doesn’t make any—”

You’re done. You’re so done with this night you could write an essay on doneness. You weave through the crowd that has magically tripled since you arrived, past couples arguing and girls who are definitely too young to be in this bar.

You keep walking. You walk right past Jungkook, right past Pink Blazer, and the bell above the door signals your exit into the brisk night air. 

Outside, there are a pack of underage boys arguing about their fake IDs with the bouncer. You would trade your entire set of problems for theirs right now. At least their biggest concern is whether their Missouri driver’s license will get them a beer.  

You want to scream into the New York City void, and curse every god known to mankind while you’re at it. This city has always been exactly what you expected it to be. Always treated you with the same indifference.

You can feel the bouncer eyeing you, and you know it’s time to leave. It was probably time to go home the minute Jungkook pulled you into the hallway, but you must’ve been feeling masochistic tonight. 

Okay, what are your options?

The West 4th train stop is only a two minute walk. Totally doable. 

You take precisely one step forward in that direction before the sharp pain stamped onto the back of your shoes returns with the intensity of a thousand tiny demons stabbing your feet. Why did you choose today, of all days, to break in heels from Nordstrom?

New plan. 

You unlock your phone, open up the Uber app, and punch in your hotel address. The price of an UberX glares back at you like a medical bill you can’t afford. Who’s paying these prices? Are there people out there casually dropping $45 to go uptown thirty blocks?

You’re not exactly living paycheck to paycheck, but this is highway robbery. There can’t be a single New Yorker who looks at these prices and thinks, “Yes, this is such a deal.” 

Perhaps you should hitchhike barefoot for 40 blocks. That seems like a good idea—

“[Y/N]!”

Jungkook’s frantic voice slices through the night air, has your entire body whipping around. Damnit, those flutters are back. 

He’s rushing out the bar, bulldozing past the group of underage boys. His jaw is just as tight as it was when you left him in the hallway. Under the night sky, his features appear darker and sharper. 

“What do you want, Jeon? I’ve had a long night.” You’re all kinds of defeated. 

He rakes his fingers through his hair, chewing his lip. “You can’t just walk home alone. This is New York City.”

You scrunch your eyebrows. Hm. Here you thought he’d be thrilled to watch you get mugged on the streets of Manhattan.

“I’m not walking. I was going to Uber.” 

You’re doing no such thing, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

You lift your feet out of your heels for a moment of relief, and the sigh that escapes you is audible from space.

Jungkook stops mid-argument as he peers down at your feet before traveling back up to your face. He doesn’t say anything for a beat. 

Then asks,“Are you in pain?”

“Does it matter?” Your sigh is dramatic this time. Just so he really knows how done you are with everything. 

“Want to switch shoes?” And he’s not even going to wait to hear your response, because he’s already bending down, nimble fingers working the laces. 

“Wait—no, stop.” You clutch his arm and pull him upright, ignoring how solid his bicep feels under your palm. “I'm totally fine.” 

“I’ve watched you do that weird foot thing at least four times tonight. You’re not fine.”

He probably can’t see it under this minimal light, but blood drains from your face. “It’s fine. Let’s just.. Let’s just go home.” 

You realize now how weird that sentence sounds when strung together. Like you have a home together. A shared space waiting for both of you. And that thought… it does nothing to kill the butterfly situation. 

“Did you already call the Uber?” he questions innocently. You almost feel bad about lying. 

Shit. 

“No. I… I was..” 

Telling him you were waiting for surge pricing to go down is so mortifying you would rather explain your browser history to your grandmother. 

But his face softens. The crinkles around his eyes fall flat. A tiny smile plays upon his lips. 

The truth pours out of you like water from a broken dam.

“Not yet. I was waiting for the prices to go down.”

“Well, how much are they?” He pulls his own phone out of his back pocket. Preparing to solve your problems.

Great. Now he thinks you’re financially irresponsible on top of whatever other character flaws he’s taken note of over the years. 

“Jeon,” you groan. “I don’t need you to order me an Uber home.”

“It’s not just for you.” He purses his lips, tilts his head. “Am I not staying at the same hotel?”

Right. That. 

“Okay, great,” you chirp. “So I’ll continue my plan to hitchhike, then.”

He takes a step nearer, as if to block your theoretical escape route. “Why can’t you just get in the car with me?”

You cross your arms over your chest. A mistake because you look like a defiant toddler. “I’m not letting you pay these outrageous prices. It’s insanity. I should write a strongly worded letter to the mayor. Who’s the mayor again?”

Jungkook is smiling at you while you rant, and it’s a real one that tugs at your heart. Starts in his eyes, travels to his lips like spilled sunlight. The kind of smile someone would probably want to spend the rest of their life seeing. 

“How about we make a compromise?” The glint in his eye lingers.

You exhale a long breath. “I don’t believe in compromises.They're a sign of weak moral character.”

“Just this once?” 

What do you have left to lose at this point?

Your face must give your surrender away because he barrels on before you can object. “We’ll walk a few blocks north until the surge pricing chills out, and then we’ll split the Uber home.”

“Perfect—”

“And I’ll carry you piggyback so your feet don’t hurt.”

Your brain malfunctions to the point where you’re surprised smoke doesn’t start floating out of your ears. A mental image of Jungkook carrying you through the streets of New York — your arms hugging his broad shoulders, face close enough to his neck to breathe in the scent of cedar, to map every freckle that travels below the collar of his button-down — makes you think unspeakable things. Makes you think you’ll never let go even when the prices go down.

“That’s not really necessary.”

You’re also a little concerned about breaking his back. You’re not exactly made of air.

“Bro, you’re starting to piss me off with all this limping around.” He gestures to your reddening feet. They’re starting to resemble small balloons. “What, you think I can’t carry you?”

That’s exactly what you think, but admitting it feels cruel.

“No, I just—”

“I go to the gym. I bench press more than you weigh.” He says it with such finality that your argument ceases to exist. 

Before you can mount a proper dispute, he turns away to face you, back on display. He has wide shoulders, and you can see the ripple of back muscles through his button-down. He really doesn’t need to do this. But he is, and his motives are being questioned by every logical part of your brain. 

“Are you planning on dropping me or something? Is this all part of some master plan to give me a traumatic brain injury so I never have to compete against you again?”

“[Y/N].” His tone is firm. Hands inviting, open and willing, awaiting your weight to occupy them. “If you keep overthinking this, I might drop you on purpose.”

“Fine, fine.” you huff. “But if I end up as a sidewalk pancake, I’m haunting you forever.” 

First, your hands find the apex of his shoulders, digging into the warmth of his shirt. You feel the ridge of his bicep, the veins underneath. A pit of fire rages in your stomach, travels down to your core, uninviting and unfamiliar. A lot of uns. 

He bends down a little more to latch onto the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your feet are dangling in the air. Fully airborne. 

Every point where your body intertwines with his feels like stepping into sunlight after weeks of rain. Your hands clasp together in front of his face, snug tightly around his neck. His scent engulfs your nostrils, vodka and bergamot and clean soap. The proximity sends your brain into a tizzy.

“You secure back there?” he jokes, but his voice cracks a little at the end of the question. 

“Ay ay, captain.” 

“Off we go.” He begins walking down the street, and you instinctively wrap your limbs tighter around him. 

There’s a blissful silence between you, and it’s comforting. You two are almost never in silence. It’s always the verbal equivalent of a fencing match, swords poking at every nerve-ending inside you. But now it’s like the swords have gone dull, and the referee has blown their whistle. 

You bite your lip hesitantly. “You can let me know if I get too heavy.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He continues his trek down the moonlit street. A group of girls walk past, and you catch them doing a double take at Jungkook. One of them even slows down to get a better look. For a moment, a feeling of pride swoops through you. They’re ogling him, you realize, and you’re here attached to him like a human necklace. 

You rest your chin atop his shoulder. There’s an inappropriate urge to place one of your hands in between his button down, to feel the warm skin underneath, maybe trace over the lines of his chest tattoo you glimpsed earlier. When did he start working out, anyway? 

“Freshmn year of college,” he says, “I take my health pretty seriously.”

Oh crap. You said that out loud?

“Oh. That’s… that’s cool.” Your face feels like it’s been set on fire. “How often do you go to the gym?”

“Like six days a week,” he replies, casual as ever. 

You didn’t know he possessed discipline. You always thought he simply floated around the universe, above everyone. Like dandelion seeds in the wind — effortlessly landing where he needed to be. 

Turns out you were wrong about that. 

You’re coming to find out you were wrong about a lot with him. 

He stops at an intersection, waiting for the walk signal. The momentary pause reminds you of tonight’s events, and why you even ran out of Fiddlesticks in the first place.

“I’m still mad at you, by the way.”

“Really?” He scoffs. “You’re currently clinging to my back like a koala, so ‘mad’ is a strong word, don’t you think?”

The so-called anger evaporates into the New York sky. 

You want to ask about the hallway interaction, about Jake, about everything. But as of right now, you think you just want to be a girl getting carried by her archnemesis down a crowded city street.

“How was the rest of your night?” he questions. It’s gentle.  

“It was fine.” You don’t dare admit he was right about Jake. “The drinks were trash.”

“Too strong?” He grimaces.

“Very. The bartender must be going through it.”

“Man bun guy? Yeah, no one puts their hair in a man bun unless they're manic.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants and your brain stops all neural function momentarily. 

You laugh. “What do you have against man buns? They’re hot.” 

He inhales sharply. “I didn’t peg you for a man bun kind of girl.”

“I’m not. I just think some guys can pull it off.” It’s true. Like, for example, Jared Leto. Smash.

“Hm.” 

It’s silent again for a few more minutes. Peaceful. Comfortable. Your head bounces against his shoulder gently with each step, and you feel the drowsiness settling in. 

“Still doing okay back there?” he asks after a few more blocks. 

You yawn in response. “Unfortunately so.”

“Good.” Jungkook hikes his hands higher up on your thighs for better support. “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

“I’m not going to fall asleep.” you protest, forcing your eyes to stay open. 

As you mobilize further uptown, the city is bustling. With families, with couples holding hands, with friends laughing loudly. All these people living their own separate lives that will never intersect with yours. Each carrying their own stories, their secrets, probably their own piggyback ride memories. 

You peer over at Jungkook; the moles on the back of his neck, the chestnut hair that clings to the nape. You’re now learning he has his own set of stories too, layers you’re only just beginning to peel back. And each one you uncover, the more you realize, they’re worth reading too. 

“Jungkook?” 

Your own voice surprises you. 

“Yeah?” 

“You were right. About Jake.”

“Oh.” He pauses, chooses his next words deliberately. Jungkook’s shoulders shift under your palms. “I didn’t want to be right about that.”

“Really?” You can’t keep the disbelief out of your tone. “Figured you’d be doing victory laps around Manhattan right about now.”

“I know I was… I know I—look, I didn’t want to be right about him. You don’t deserve that.” His sigh wracks through his whole body. 

A knot in your chest loosens, one you didn’t even know was there. “I kind of thought you spent most of your time plotting new ways to make my life miserable.”

He laughs, a husky sound that rumbles against your chest where you’re pressed against him. “[Y/N]. That’s not what I think about you.”

“It’s not?” Your hug around him tightens even more. 

“Trust me. It’s not.” 

“Careful,” you tease. “I’m going to start thinking you like me, Jeon.” 

The smile creeps into his voice when he responds, “Would that be such a terrible thing?” 

No, no, it wouldn’t.

And that’s enough of an answer to the rest of your questions tonight. 

By the time you make it back to the hotel, it’s way later than your normal bedtime. But at least your feet aren’t throbbing in pain, and the Uber only set Jungkook back $10. You swallowed your pride when you saw the price instead of insisting on paying him back, so there was growth. 

The room is silent except for the sound of the air conditioning whirring. You and Jungkook hardly shared words in the car ride; not for any reason in particular besides the comfort of sitting in silence. After spending your entire day talking, it was nice to just exist. 

You also spent a lot of the drive thinking about Jungkook. About the way his hands felt splayed across fabric. About his thoughtfulness on every aspect of you. About a dozen other things, honestly. 

But if you think about it for too long, you go down a rabbit hole you really don’t want to go down.

You rummage through your duffel bag, searching for the pajamas you remember folding with care. They should be right here, nestled between your emergency granola bars and three extra phone chargers. You packed like the apocalypse was en route, so they must be buried.

“Hey, I’m gonna change in the bathroom,” Jungkook announces, his own pajamas in tow. 

You make a vague humming noise, elbow-deep in your luggage disaster zone.

The door clicks shut, and you continue to dig. You know you brought them. Buried somewhere beneath the collection of ‘just in case’ items. Coincidentally, you never needed those things. 

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook’s footsteps pad across the carpet. You hear the rustle of sheets as he settles into bed, and you don’t know why your heart does this weird thing where it skips a beat and races to catch up. Maybe because you realize you’re soon also going to occupy the bed. Together. 

Okay, one more sweep and you’re certain your pajamas will show up. 

Except they don’t, and you come to the crushing realization that you never packed the pajamas. They’re sitting on your couch back home, wondering what they did to deserve abandonment. 

Sighing, you slump back on your heels and turn to Jungkook. He’s lying in bed, propped against the headboard with his phone, scrolling through TikTok. The light from his phone illuminates his face, catching the curve of his smile as he watches some video. He’s changed into a black t-shirt that makes his shoulders look broader than they did in that button-down.

This is exactly the kind of domestic scene your brain doesn't need right now.

Because now you’re thinking about things you probably shouldn’t be. You’re thinking about what side of the bed he likes to sleep on. If he sleeps with one pillow or two. If he snores. If he likes to sleep in total darkness or with a lamp on. If your bodies will be compatible in the same space of a bed. If your head would fit on his chest. 

“You okay over there?” 

He’s looking at you with a dazed expression. He’s caught you staring at him like he’s straight out of a MoMA exhibit. Given the direction of your thoughts, it’s probably not far off.

“Yeah, I just…” You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “I forgot my pajamas at home.”

He raises an eyebrow quizzically. “You don’t have a thorough packing list you check five times before leaving?”

“No, do you?” 

“No, I'm a dude. I throw stuff in a bag and pray I remembered underwear.” 

You give him a look that could wilt flowers. “Okay, fine. I do have a packing list, but I fear I only checked it twice instead of my usual five.”

He seems pleased that he got something right about you. Setting his phone aside, he gives you his undivided attention. “So what do you need from me?” 

Ideally? For his hand in helping the earth open up and swallow you whole. But the universe seems committed to testing every boundary of your comfort zone since the moment you met Jungkook, so here you are. 

You stand up, crossing your arms defensively. “Do you happen to have anything I can borrow?”

A sly grin unfurls across his face. “Are you asking to wear my clothes?” 

“This is not by choice,” you rush to say, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to clarify the obvious. 

“Right, because if you wanted to wear my stuff, you could’ve just—”

“I want to die.”

“—I bet it would look great on you—”

“Jeon, please. I’m dying of embarrassment.”

“Can someone actually die of embarrassment? That feels too good to be true.” He’s enjoying the hell out of this. 

“Please,” you plead. “You know I never ask for anything.”

The shit-eating grin doesn't fade. In fact, it triples in size. “Do you have a preference? Top or bottom?”

“Jungkook Jeon.”

The use of his full name elicits a chuckle, a sound that does nothing to help your internal chaos.

“Fine, fine.” He throws back the covers and gets up. “I’m sure I have something.”

He stalks across the room toward his luggage. His shoulder blades shift with each movement — wow, you really, really need to stop noticing these things — and your eyes can’t seem to peel themselves away.

Jungkook whips around suddenly. You nearly give yourself whiplash trying to pretend you weren’t just caught staring at him for the second time in ten minutes. This is going to be framed in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘most obvious staring’. 

In his hand, his Columbia sweatshirt is scrunched up into a wrinkled gray ball. You can make out the Proxima Nova font. 

“So this is basically all I’ve got,” He’s apathetic about it. As if it should be your pleasure to wear his dirty sweatshirt to sleep. 

You don’t know why your body has such a visceral reaction to wearing that particular sweatshirt. It’s just fabric and letters. But there’s two thoughts that linger in your brain and battle for dominance. 

The sweatshirt has been worn. It smells like him. 

It’s also from Columbia, the school that forced you two together and pushed you apart.

It’s symbolic, almost. 

“I’m not wearing that to sleep,” you utter, complete seriousness in your tone. 

“Well, what other option do you have?” He’s dumbfounded. 

You scramble to think of options. They’re slim to none. “I’ll… I’ll sleep in my blazer.”

That quite literally sounds like the most uncomfortable night of your life, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Jungkook’s signature devilish smirk appears. “Your other option is to sleep naked… which I’m not opposed to, by the way.” 

Your stomach is clenching around itself like it’s a stress ball.

Nope, no way. It's either a Columbia sweatshirt filled with memories and layers of Jungkook you’re starting to uncover, or….

“Give me the fucking sweatshirt, Jeon.”

He tosses it across the room with perfect aim, and you catch it reflexively. You’re beyond desperate to change and go to sleep and rid yourself of all memories from this night. 

It feels as though you’ve lived a hundred different lives today, none of them recognizable as your own. 

Shuffling into the bathroom, you lock the door shut tight and look at yourself in the mirror. Staring back at you is a girl who barely recognizes herself anymore. Hair mussed, makeup smudged, eyes hooded from exhaustion.

Of course, you can chalk this up to sharing a room with someone who has tortured you for eight years. 

You change into the sweatshirt, and the minute the soft cotton settles over your cool skin, you feel warm inside, a fuzzy feeling nestling itself into your chest and making a home. The sweatshirt falls just above your knees — long enough where it’s still modest, short enough that you won’t trip over yourself walking back into the room. 

The smell is fragrant. It’s everything your nostrils know about him; the strong scent of bergamot, cedar, mixed with a fabric softener that bleeds into every piece of clothing he owns. 

It smells utterly and completely like him. It smells like the first day of Public Policy. It smells like the infamous Ethics debate of sophomore year. It smells like seeing your name under ‘valedictorian’ and his under ‘salutatorian.’ It smells like seeing him on your first day at CNN. It smells like White House Prom. Him, him, him. 

There’s a rock sitting in your stomach that’s heavy. Suddenly, the sweatshirt feels more suffocating rather than comforting. 

You rip open the bathroom door, nearly wipe it clean off the hinges. Jungkook has resumed his post in bed, scrolling through his phone with occasional quiet chuckles at whatever videos are entertaining his bird brain. 

When you fully step into the light of the hotel room, though, his phone screen goes dark. He places it down on the mattress, looks at you, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. 

His eyes are traveling—from your bare legs to the way your hands are hugging the edge of the sleeves.

Acknowledging you, in his clothes. Taking inventory of it. 

A wave of self-consciousness courses through you. You can’t find a single word in the English dictionary to say to him. Not a single quip. You just walk over to the bed, get under the covers, and avoid all eye contact. 

But he’s still eyeing you, possibly waiting for you to say something. 

Actually, there is something you should probably get out of the way. 

Considering there was no conversation about sharing the bed, you need to re-establish rules. 

You remove a pillow from under your head and plop it down in the center of the mattress, giving it a few aggressive fluffs. Then you reach over and snatch one of his too. “[Y/N]—”

“What, you thought bed privileges came free of charge?” You continue your pillow arrangement project. “You didn’t even ask for my permission, now that I think about it.” 

“I need permission to sleep now?” His voice climbs several octaves in disbelief. 

“Not permission to sleep. Permission to share my space.” You tuck the covers around your pillow barrier to ensure there's no accidental limb contact. 

“Your space?” He sounds genuinely offended now. “Do you not recall Monroe booked this room with CNN under my name?” 

Ah, perfect. You’ve managed to restore the natural order of bickering. Your safe space.  

You tut. “Uh, uh, stop it right there. That does not make you an honorary CNN employee.”

“Like I’d want to be.”

“Moral of the story here is,” You settle yourself deeper into the fortress of the comforter. “We have a clear line. These pillows represent an invisible line that cannot, under any circumstances, be crossed.”

“And what happens if I cross it?” he challenges.

You splutter. Is he planning on testing this boundary? “Then you’ll be sleeping in the hallway with the ice machine for company.”

“Wow,” He shakes his head in mock disappointment. “I carry you ten blocks through Manhattan, and this is the gratitude I get."

“Were you expecting some kind of cuddle session as payment?”

“I was expecting to be treated like a human.” he retorts, arms crossed over his chest vehemently. 

“This is as good as it gets, Jeon,” you firmly say. “If you so much as even breathe in my direction, I will smother you with this commemorative Hilton pillow.”

“So generous. Remind me to nominate you for a Peace Prize.” He picks up his phone again, ignoring your pillow wall and placing his elbow directly on it. 

You roll your eyes and snap off your bedside lamp, plunging half the room into darkness. His light remains on, which you’re 90% sure is an act of passive aggression. 

But five minutes of tossing and turning prove that sleep is going to be elusive tonight. Between Jungkook’s intermittent giggles at whatever TikTok rabbit hole he’s fallen into, and your flashback reel of the evening, it feels impossible. 

You smush your face deep into the pillow. “Do you need to watch your videos on the highest fucking volume?”

“Is volume control part of your sacred pillow wall treaty?”

Curse the day Jungkook Jeon was born. 

“No it’s not, but I need to sleep.” you say, letting exhaustion bleed into your voice. “Please.”

There’s a soft sigh, followed by the click of his phone screen going dark. His body shimmies into the blanket even more. You’re on your way to thank your guardian angel when you hear, “How do you think tomorrow will go?”

Tomorrow. The tomorrow you’re supposed to be getting rest for. The day that's rapidly approaching while you lie here wide awake in a hotel bed with your supposed archnemesis.

“Can we talk about this when we wake up?” Your words come out muffled against the pillow. 

“Sure.” A beat of silence. “I’m just worried about Monroe.”

He’s like a broken vinyl that you can’t get off the record player. 

“Why?” You don’t lift your face from the pillow sanctuary. 

You can’t fathom why you’re feeding into this conversation right now. You know you’re tired. Your whole body is detesting the fact that your eyes are still open. 

“Delgado isn’t going to show mercy tomorrow. Not after today’s performance went so well for her.” 

You turn to face the pillow barricade. You’re certain that on the other side of it, he’s also facing the pillows. 

“She handled herself well today,” you say into the darkness. “She looks competent and she didn’t give too much away. I, for one, am proud.” 

It’s eerily quiet in the room for a moment. You hear him take a gulp of air, hoarding the oxygen in the room as if he’s preparing himself to admit something. 

“I just don’t want to let her down.”

It’s honest. More honest than you expect him to ever be. 

But there’s this thing you’re learning about Jungkook. He’s extremely observant. He understands people. Builds these complete pictures of who someone is beneath their surface presentation. Gets to know them to their core and files it away in some part of his brain for later use. 

And even this late at night, it’s annoyingly admirable. 

“We won’t,” you confirm. “I have zero intention of going easy on him.” 

You can hear the smile creeping into his voice. “Even if it’s bad journalism ethics?”

“Especially if it’s bad journalism ethics.”

Silence settles between you like fresh snowfall, soft and encompassing. 

The light on his side clicks off and your vision goes black. Bathed in unadulterated darkness. The world feels so far away.

“Do you think I should mention something about Delgado’s eyebrows?” Jungkook asks the void. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, the sound bubbling through you like someone shook a bottle of soda in your chest. “Maybe we save that for plan Z.”

Quiet descends again. Here in the darkness with a boy who has nothing in common with you besides a mutual hatred for Delgado and an inexplicable ability to get under each other’s skin. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice is tiptoeing the pillow wall. 

“You’re gonna ask whether I say yes or no anyway,” you joke. But nothing’s really funny. Not anymore. 

“What actually happened with Jake tonight?” 

Outside the window, you hear the commotion of Times Square. A bus honks as it drives by, faint lights from the LED screens paint thin lines across the ceiling. 

Something inside you loosens. You want to tell him the truth. He’s been honest with you tonight. Maybe he deserves your honesty.

After all, if Jake really is his nemesis, there’s probably something in the nemesis-nemesis contract regarding in-laws of nemeses. 

“He asked if Fox was hiring.”

Jungkook shifts under the covers.

“I told him he should talk to you. Then I left.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ for dramatic effect. “So congratulations, you were right. Turns out I’m not irresistibly charming after all. I’m a stepping stone.”

“You’re not a stepping stone.”

“I might as well be. I mean, the man stood there and invited me to dinner as a networking strategy.” The mortification hits all over again, making you want to dissolve into the mattress. “This has to rank in the top ten most mortifying moments of my existence.” 

“He’s a dick.” He sighs like he lost an internal battle, then adds, “Not every guy who talks to you is going to be trying to get to me, you know.”

“I hope not. You’re my bad luck charm, Jeon.”

Jungkook laughs at that, a blithe sound that rattles the inside of your chest. “Nemesis, bad luck charm… what’s next?” 

“I’m thinking plague.”

“I’ll make sure to stay far away from you on your quest for a boyfriend.” He chastises. 

You let out an undignified snort. “No quest here. I’d rather adopt ten cats and become the neighborhood witch.”

“Right. Miss Workaholic Who’s Too Busy Changing The World One CNN Article At A Time.”

The room is serene, with its minimal light and hum of background noise permeating through the sound barrier of the window. The world outside isn’t privy to the way your heart hasn’t stopped skittering around wildly in your chest since you put on this Columbia sweatshirt. 

“I really need to sleep," you announce abruptly. Staying awake means thinking. And you really, really don’t want to do that. “This has been the longest day in recorded history.”

“Already turned off my light,” he murmurs.

You’re certain that if an intruder walked into the room, the whites of your eyes would be their guide. 

Despite needing to sleep, your body craving an ounce of respite, you can’t seem to get comfortable. 

You lie there, rigid as a board, staring up at the ceiling like you’re practicing for your own funeral.  

You wonder what position Jungkook is sleeping in. Or if he’s also awake. Or if he’s thinking about Jake and the disaster of your romantic instincts. Or about how you’re drowning in the scent of his sweatshirt. 

The silence stretches until you’re convinced he’s drifted off, and then it’s not quiet anymore, because Jungkook’s voice is resounding off the walls. 

“Sophomore year, Jake made this really disgusting comment about you. Sexual. Completely out of line.” His words come faster now, like he needs to get them out before he loses his nerve. “I lost my shit and punched him. Almost got suspended for a week. And then he spent the rest of college trying to one-up me in every class we shared—like that time in Professor Litman's Statistics seminar where he somehow managed to edge me out by half a point just to prove he could.”

Wait. What?

Did you hear that correctly?

Jake. Jungkook. Him fighting for your honor when you weren't even there to witness it.

First of all—fuck Jake. What an absolute waste of oxygen. 

Second of all—Jungkook. Your jaw has completely detached from the rest of your face. 

He beat someone up because of you. You are the reason Jungkook considers Jake his nemesis. And as someone who holds that title in Jungkook’s life, you understand how significant that designation is. How seriously he must have taken whatever Jake said. 

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “Thanks. I think”

“It’s fine. He’s a dick.”

That much has been thoroughly established. 

You can’t think of much else you want to say, so you don’t try.

You just need sleep. Need to let unconsciousness wash away this night and wake up with some semblance of clarity. 

When you were little, you would make your parents check under your bed for monsters every single night. You had to get reassurance that nothing was lurking in the shadows, waiting to grab your ankles the moment you got comfortable. Classic childhood terror — the creature hiding out of sight, ready to drag you into some nightmare dimension. 

You remember one particular night when you saw a shadow on the wall that looked exactly like something from a horror movie. You thrashed in your bed and cried until your parents came to investigate. 

By the time they rushed into the room, you were a blubbering mess. You thought it was your final moment on earth. 

But your mom had simply reached out and adjusted the closet door, and the terrifying shadow vanished. Just clothes hanging on a hook. A figment of your imagination. 

Lying in this bed with Jungkook, you feel like someone adjusted the closet door. Removed the jacket from the doorknob to reveal that the creature you'd been so afraid of was never really there at all. Something harmless beneath it. 

Everything you thought you knew about him feels like shadows on the wall, projections of your own making.

It’s strange how quickly you nod off into sleep with him right there beside you, in the city that once felt like a chasm between your two worlds. 

And sometime in the middle of the night, when your fingers accidentally mesh with his and your legs intertwine, it’s an unconscious thing. Something you nor him will remember when the sun rises over the city skyline.  

Neither of you move away.

To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t snore in his sleep. 

He also doesn’t thrash around like he’s fighting invisible demons. You were half-convinced that all men spend their nights restraining themselves from releasing the lies they’ve accumulated during waking hours.

You wake up at the crack of dawn, early enough that the sky is still more gray than blue. Early enough to race downstairs and throw yourself at the mercy of the hotel concierge for that room swap she promised you. 

You’re in his Columbia sweatshirt when you approach the front desk, looking exactly like someone who just had the most earth-shattering sex of their life. 

When she hands you the new key with a concerned expression, you don’t acknowledge it. She’s seen your kind ten thousand times before. You sprint back upstairs, shove your belongings into your bag, and escape before the sun finishes climbing over the horizon.  

Your new room on the 11th floor becomes your sanctuary for the next few hours. There’s two very important tasks at hand: 1) removing Jungkook’s sweatshirt from your body before burying it in a corner of the room and 2) taking the longest, hottest shower of your life. 

Your brain is all Delgado now. Yesterday’s events are officially banned from your brain. 

Either way, when you do finally encounter Jungkook a few hours later under corporate lighting, you are no longer thinking about how he sleeps or him punching Jake or how the scent of him could even linger on a sweatshirt for so long. 

“Sleep well?” His voice appears directly behind you. You leap forty feet back, almost launching yourself into orbit. 

At least now that you're in separate rooms, you didn't have to endure another awkward Uber ride together. You paid for your own transportation like a big girl.

“Best sleep of my life,” you reply, dripping with sarcasm. 

“That good?” He tilts his head, studying your evident undereye bags. “Because you look a little… frazzled.”

“I always look frazzled before a press briefing,” you inform him primly. 

His expression shifts into something more focused. “This one’s important.” 

“Very.” You avert your eyes away from his. Eye contact after sharing a bed with someone feels like navigating a minefield. Especially when that someone happens to be your nemesis of eight years. 

“Shall we head to our seats?” He gestures towards the middle row, where you two plan on staking out. Monroe’s team had given you complete autonomy on seating strategy for Delgado’s press conference, because casual observing is key.  

You roll your eyes at his forced sweetness and go, “Ladies first.”

He laughs and slides into the row, right next to a bouncing NBC Correspondent. He must be no more than the age of 22, fresh out of college and full of life. He definitely doesn’t have a nemesis who’s ruining his sleep schedule. 

Sitting down next to Jungkook, you flip open your notepad. Your notes for Delgado look sparse compared to Monroe’s research. After all, you’ve never interviewed him directly. You just know him from fragments of Monroe’s account. Snippets of stories you’ve read on news outlets. It’s been tough maintaining objectivity when every piece of information online paints him as a saint, but Monroe’s is the polar opposite. 

“We’re tag teaming this one, right?” you ask Jungkook mindlessly. 

He peers sideways at you. “Like old times?”

That causes you to glance up. Your heart lurches like its forgotten how to beat properly. Old times. 

You snort. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Me demolishing you while you scramble to catch up?” he offers with a grin that’s borderline criminal. 

“You wish. I think you mean me mopping the floor with you.”

“I’m ready to rip this guy to shreds.” He leans back in his chair, stretches out his legs like he’s settling in for entertainment. 

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head skeptically. “With what notes?”

He taps his temple. “Everything I need is stored right up here, baby.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “You’ll need more than that empty vault you call a brain to get through this.”

“You might be surprised what this empty vault can produce.” 

“I somehow really doubt that.”

He leans closer into you, lips almost brushing the shell of your ear. “Wanna bet?” 

Everything stops. Record scratch, freeze frame, complete system malfunction. He knows exactly how much you love competing against him—it’s hardwired into your DNA. College was four years of elaborate bets and increasingly ridiculous stakes. You once got as far as getting him to replace your dorm room carpet after scoring higher than him on the Political Science midterm by two points. 

You squint at him. “Terms and conditions?”

“Whoever asks the best question and gets the best answer wins”

“Wins what, exactly?”

He pauses thoughtfully. Mulls over the options in the empty vault that is his brain. “The loser has to admit—out loud, to the winner’s face—that they did a great job.”

Oh, how you would love to hear these little two words from his mouth. 

“You are so on, Jeon.”

You extend a hand for him to shake, and when his fingers close around yours, it’s like every nerve ending in your body just remembered it exists. Heat shoots through your arm and spreads through your nervous system like wildfire. You yank your hand back so fast you nearly dislocate your own shoulder. He awkwardly coughs. 

Dear brain: please shut up. Please cease all functions related to remembering how peacefully he sleeps, or how his sweatshirt felt like a security blanket, or anything else that remotely involves Jungkook—

“Shit. He’s here.”

Your attention whips to the front of the room, where the sound of footsteps emerging from the entrance door announces the arrival of Delgado. 

You’re not sure what you expected him to look like in person. You’ve probably crossed paths with him unknowingly—the Hill operates like a small town where everyone’s roaming the same buildings—but he looks more composed standing in front of a bunch of overeager correspondents. He looks completely professional. Cufflinks rolled up just right, charcoal blazer fitted to perfection. 

You’ll give him this much—he’s relatively attractive. He has this sort of rugged look going on, with a beard to match. He’s clearly buff underneath the blazer. 

He approaches the podium, settling into the chair and adjusting his mic. His movements are a lot more fluid than Monroe's. Unbothered. Where Monroe almost felt like she was performing damage control, Delgado moves like the world should feel grateful for his presence.

He clears his throat into the mic and looks off to the side at his team, like a king addressing his subjects. They nod at him encouragingly. “Thank you all for coming. I’ll take questions now.”

There’s a pause. A shift in the air as every correspondent’s heart rate increases, adrenaline flooding the room. A sharp inhale of breath. And then you’re off to the races. 

Both yours and Jungkook’s hands shoot up in synchronization, along with approximately fifty others. 

“Politico?” One of Delgado’s team members points into the sea of people. An older guy scrambles to his feet, shuffling his notes around frantically before smiling up at him. “Senator Delgado, how’s your garden coming along this season?” 

The crowd erupts in polite laughter, and Delgado joins in. Your eyes widen a little when the strategy becomes crystal clear. Humanizing the man. And it’s not even subtle. It’s blaring in your ears. 

You wonder if Politico got a phone call about which questions would be most appreciated today.

“It’s thriving. I’ve expanded into vegetables this year. I’ve found that tomatoes prefer summer planting rather than autumn, though that’s probably obvious to anyone with more gardening sense than I had starting out.” Another round of laughter ripples. Dude’s a hoot. You resist the urge to check if anyone’s buying this folksy bullshit. 

You catch Jungkook’s eye and see your own skepticism reflected back. He quirks an eyebrow that screams, really? vegetables?

The next question comes from Washington Post. “Senator, what’s your favorite variety of tomato to grow?” 

They’re really laying it on thick. 

“Heirloom varieties mostly. There’s something satisfying about growing something that’s been around for generations, you know? Connects you to the land.” Delgado’s smile could power a small city with its wattage. 

You lean into Jungkook to whisper, “I’m going to vomit.”

“Save it for after we destroy him,” he murmurs back, though his jaw is tight with barely contained irritation.

The third question comes from New York Times. Some guy who also got the memo on keeping things fun, flirty, and fresh. 

“Senator, any plans to share gardening tips with your constituents?”

You’re starting to think the entire press conference was scripted by someone with a pathological fear of journalism. Delgado’s team is probably high-fiving backstage over this vegetable deflection plan. 

“Well, I’ve always believed in the importance of connecting with people over simple, everyday things,” Delgado responds. “Maybe I’ll start a newsletter. ‘Cultivating Democracy,’ or something like that.”

More laughter. Are you in a sitcom?

Finally—thank you, Journalism Gods—someone from Wall Street Journal breaks rank. 

“Senator Delgado, regarding the allegations about your relationship with Senator Monroe, do you have any comment on the timeline that’s been established? Like when this relationship began, per se?”

The temperature in the room drops twenty degrees. Delgado’s folksy smile falters before snapping right back into place. 

“I’ve addressed this previously,” Delgado says. “Senator Monroe and I have worked together professionally for years. Any personal relationship developed after was purely friendship. If she thought it was more than that.. she was mistaken.”

Bullshit. Capital B.

But what strikes you isn’t just the lie—it’s how comfortable he looks telling it. 

You lean to Jungkook again. “Notice how he’s not the one getting asked about maintaining professional standards?”

“Or whether his judgment is compromised,” Jungkook adds, hushed. “Funny how that works.”

The next question comes from left field. “Senator, do you think Monroe has been unable to work with you due to this?”

“Not at all,” he chuckles. “I’m a professional. We can separate professional matters.”

The hypocrisy is so undeniably there that you could physically reach out and grab it. Monroe got screamed at when she walked out, about her credibility, her judgement. Meanwhile, Delgado gets to talk about his garden and how cool and calm he is about all this. 

Your hand shoots up, and you try to not elbow Jungkook out of the way. 

“CNN?” 

Jungkook’s obviously disappointed. Aha.  

Clearing your throat, you inquire, “Senator Delgado, regarding the credit card purchases that have surfaced when you were with Monroe—expensive dinners, hotel charges, weekend trips—how does your team plan to address what appears to be a pattern?”

His eyes flicker at you. A sign of vexation. He inhales, adjusting his cufflinks. “Am I not allowed to have dinner with a colleague? Senator Monroe and I spent many late nights together working on legislation.”

You’re not done. 

“How many late nights would you estimate?” 

Pairs of eyes turn towards you. A follow up question isn’t standard practice in press briefings.  

“The professional amount,” he spits back. 

Sure. If you count ‘professional’ as dinners at restaurants that require reservations six months in advance, weekend getaways to Martha's Vineyard, and champagne that costs more per bottle than a vacation home in the Hamptons, probably. 

“Senator, these receipts span months,” you continue. “They include charges at jewelry stores, resorts, and a couples massage package in Napa Valley. Could you clarify what legislation required spa treatments?”

He looks visibly irritated. “I don’t recall the details of every business expense, but I can assure you all personal costs were handled separately.”

Someone needs to stop you, but no one dares to. “The receipts suggest otherwise, Senator. In fact, they show a pattern that directly contradicts your own timeline and denial of Monroe. How do you reconcile that?” 

Now you’ve got him by the balls. The rapid-fire click of cameras fills the silence. 

Delgado’s team member swoops in at the eleventh hour. “CNN, I think we’d like to move on to a different news outlet now, if that’s alright?” 

You smile widely. “That’s more than enough of an answer for me.” 

Your hands are shaking, but you keep them folded in your lap. No one can see that except for you, and probably Jungkook. His eyes are on you, penetrating you beyond just your skin.

“Next question?” A team member feebly yells out. 

“Fox?”

Your head swivels toward Jungkook, who rises from his seat and adjusts the collar of his button down. “Senator Delgado,” he begins, “yesterday Senator Monroe faced extensive questioning about her own innocence and misconduct, and even her own fitness for office due to this relationship. I believe someone asked just a few minutes ago about her ability to work with you. My question is simple: why haven’t you been asked the same thing?”

Delgado blinks rapidly. “I’m sorry, what are you implying?”

“Nothing, Senator. I’m directly asking: do you believe your own judgement has been compromised by this relationship? And if not, why should the standard be different for Senator Monroe?”

It’s brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant. Jungkook just called out the double standard, and Delgado can’t deny it without looking like a hypocrite. 

“I don’t think that’s a fair characterization—”

“With respect, Senator, it’s not a characterization. It’s a question. Do the same standards apply to you that were applied to your colleague, and do you feel that the media has portrayed that accurately?” 

You can see the panic. The fear. His team is exchanging panicked glances, realizing they prepared him for gardening questions but not for his male privilege being called out.

“I believe,” Delgado enunciates each syllable, buying time, “that both Senator Monroe and I are maintaining professional integrity.”

“Interesting,” Jungkook continues smoothly. “Because yesterday Monroe was asked about a level of innocence she was trying to maintain through all this. Should the public be asking you the same question?”

You’re pretty sure everyone in the room has stopped breathing. You included. 

“Let’s move on from Fox,” A team member interjects sternly. Her eyebrows are pinched together so tightly they’re basically touching. 

Jungkook nods and sits down, “No further questions.”

Oh my god. If he wasn’t Jungkook, you would lean over and kiss him. That was incredible, that was electric, that is exactly what journalism is fucking made of—

“Hey,” Jungkook taps your knee, jolting you out of your haze. “Did you write any of that down?”

Did you? You have no idea. You were too busy watching him dismantle Delgado piece by piece. 

“Uh, yeah,” you lie. “Yeah, totally.”

He nods, smiling to himself before saying, “That’s one point for me.”

You start scribbling as the Times starts rattling off questions, none as jarring as Jungkook’s. The room cycles through other outlets, each question increasingly more mundane than the last. You flip through your notepad to try and find your next query.  

There’s no way you’re letting Jungkook claim victory without a fight. His question may have been good, but your whole brand is asking questions where it hurts. 

Your hand shoots up again, and his team member deflates before reluctantly calling on you, “CNN?” 

Delgado’s eyes find yours, and there’s hostility burning in them now. 

Good. Angry politicians make mistakes. 

“Senator Delgado, the intern who discovered you and Senator Monroe together has reportedly been offered a position at a lobbying firm with ties to your office. Can you confirm if you or anyone on your team facilitated that job placement?”

Okay, you may have taken it too far. This is about potential witness tampering, hush money, an abuse of power. Enough to get him impeached.

Delgado’s face goes through several color changes before deciding on red. 

“That’s—that’s completely inappropriate. That’s speculation,” Delgado spews.

“It’s not, Senator. I have proof.” His eyes track your mouth. “The intern received the offer three days after the story broke. So, I’ll ask again: did you facilitate that? To keep them quiet, maybe?” 

His composure abandons ship. He grips the mic like he wants to climb over it. 

“Who the hell are you?” His voice cracks in fury. “You have the nerve to throw around accusations with no proof. You are a journalist with no boundaries!”

Your stomach drops like an elevator with severed cables. The breath catches in your throat, refusing to move in or out. Because now you’re not a correspondent asking real questions—he’s deduced you to an uppity woman who doesn’t know her place. 

“I-I—” 

God, you are a failure. Words have completely abandoned them when you need them most. Say something, [Y/N.]

“—incredibly unprofessional and a shame to CNN—”

“Hey.”

You know that voice. That’s not your voice. 

That’s Jungkook’s voice. 

He’s standing now, hands clenched into fists at his side. His knuckles are turning a ghastly white. There’s imaginary smoke puffing from his ears. 

You look up at him in dread. Great. He’s going to join the party and agree with Delgado that you’ve overstepped, that Fox would never allow such reckless questioning. This is the end of your career. 

“You do not get to speak to a journalist like that. You cannot speak to her like that.” 

Excuse me?

“She is asking completely inappropriate questions—”

“No,” Jungkook cuts him off, “she’s asking questions that you know the answer to but answering them would mean it’s true. And that is no excuse to speak to a correspondent like that. Don’t you dare ever speak to her like that again.”

Did you enter an alternate universe? What is going on?

You blink rapidly, swallowing thickly. The bile rising in your throat tastes like shame. You might cry. 

You’ve never seen Jungkook so mad in your entire life. You’ve seen him happy, you’ve seen him annoyed, you’ve seen him when he’s competitive, but this emotion? This blind rage? Protective anger? This one is new. And this one’s all for you. 

Delgado falters, looking around desperately. A team member leaps from her chair. “I think that’s enough questions for today. Thank you all for your time.”

Jungkook falls back into his chair, chest heaving. You can see him working to rein in whatever storm is still raging inside him.  

You want to say something—thank you, or some acknowledgement—but your throat is vacuum-sealed shut. All you can manage is closing your notepad with shaky hands. 

“Are you okay?” 

His voice penetrates the ringing in your ears.  

“Yeah, I’m good.”

His face searches your features for something. Maybe clarity. Maybe a sign that you’re actually okay. 

Truthfully, you’re the least okay you’ve ever been. 

You keep staring at your notepad. Someone is going to have to peel your body off this chair. 

“I’m sorry he spoke to you like that,” Jungkook’s voice is soft. The same one he used on you last night when you told him what Jake said to you. 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

You nod slowly. It’s really, spectacularly not. 

People are shuffling out of the room in hushed whispers and sidelong glances in your direction. You are so embarrassed. In a room full of your peers, you’ve been made to look a fool. 

“Fuck that guy,” Jungkook blurts out, and you finally laugh. It’s a choked sound, because you’re pretty sure there are tears collecting at the edge of your eye. 

He doesn’t push for more conversation. He begins to get up and gather his things, preparing to join the exodus at the exit. 

But before he turns, he looks down at where you’re still seated, and goes, “Great job.”

masterlist + ask

taglist ; @somehowukook @lovingkoalaface @moroe-blog2 @almatiarau @hanamgi @yooniepot @strawberryberrygirl @rossy1080 @libra04 @kenzierj11 @senaqsstuff @dtownbae @xumyboo @bellefaerie @chimchoom @satisfied18 @arcanekookz @vintagemoonsstuff @brokebitch-101 @taolucha @songbyeonkim @oopscoop @mochibites00 @whatevevrerr @lessthantmr @nesha227 @mar-lo-pap @jazzyb22 @lachesismoonmist @indyuhhhhh @sky-23s-world @swimmingweaselzineegs @jiminshi20 @khadeeeeej @withluvjm @anishasingh1233 @jksusawife @btstrology @youphoriajk @jadestonedaeho7 @diamondjeon @sharplycoldpaladin @annafarrr @tteokbokibyjk @prxdajeon @tatzzz-25 @magicalnachocreator @younhakim29 @purplelanterns @134340-kr @amarawayne

[prlssprfctn]

A fun little headcannon is that everyone believes Jason to prefer paperback and physical paper but he honestly doesn't care. Maybe it stems from his Robin days reading for hours in the manor library. Or how'd he always tell Bruce to write down the details of the case to solve it faster. Or even that they needed to have physical copies of each file in case the Batcomputer got hacked. It just stuck with Bruce and by extension everyone believes it.

But like he would totally love an eReader with how many books you can fit on it. Audio books are even better because he can listen to them anywhere. The man likes the stories people have to tell. How he consumes it isn't a concern. But of course he has a flare for dramatics so he plays into this misconception.

Steph: Jason, I know you'd prefer a physical book but I got a Kindle that you could use more than me.

Jason who already owns the newest model takes it and chucks it at the floor: Disgusting.

Tim at the Batcomputer: Why do we need to write up a report for Condiment King of all people. Its the third one this month!

Jason: Back in my day we would hand write each and every report.

Dick: No we didn't???

Jason magically pulling out a file cabinet with said case files.

Jason: Honestly we should start doing that again let me go ask Bruce.

Bruce: Honestly if you'd wait five more minutes someone would have come in as backup. You don't need to do everything on your own Hood.

Jason completely ignoring him because he's got books downloaded on his helmet.

Damian next to him knowing what Jason is up to because he did the exact same thing with Ra's.

YES, YES!

i think Jason loves paperback when it is his already favourite books, the ones he knows he loves and wants to annotate and explore — otherwise, he prefers to try books in e-version first. or borrow books from the library if he is in the mood. he strikes me as someone who loves supporting local libraries! plus, listens audio-books on missions and during work-outs, yep, yep.

do other family members have a wrong opinion in that in their minds because Bruce is the "heard my kid mentioning something once, now i think their whole personality evolves around this thing" type of parent sometimes? oh, fucking absolutely. does Jason love to play on the stereotype of "boomer" sibling? yeah— lol.

also, he is a type of kid who would remind the teacher about homework (i think he genuinely cared about this as a kid and didn't understand why everyone got mad, but now he knows WHY, and he will do it EVERYONE'S problem) and combined with him, writing reports on papers, i raise you this:

Bruce, tired by the end of the patrol: Had we discussed everything? Hadn't I forgotten something?

literally everyone but Jason, quickly: no, no, we are fine. ha-ha.

Jason, appearing behind them: well. actually. we all now should write our reports.

Bruce: oh, right.

Jason, smirking: here is mine, by the way. i wrote it while you are all was bickering.

Bruce: so competent! thank you, lad.

Other kids, fuming: -_-

also, the image of Jason blasting audio-books through his helmet is frying me. so, get this:

Dick: Jason is so suspiciously calm for the last few days! like, seriously. proud of him.

Tim: right? it is actually hilarious. Bruce was screaming at him yesterday, and Jason was just staring at him silently, no word, no remark... he was so quiet that Bruce instantly felt bad and apologised. like. master-tecnique. lol.

Jason, who was listening to audio-book all this time, and didn't even hear what Bruce said, just nodded when he started randomly hugging him and murmuring "my baby": whatever.