#like dissecting a frog to a human

[kaprisvn]

Chasing Stars Doodle Dump :3

Hey hey! Just some misc doodles for my fic I liked! Speaking of, some information at the end of the post :P

(Click for higher quality)

(Close ups end)

Hey chat!! I know I've been a little radio silent, but it was for pretty good reason. These past two weeks, I was working on my Moon cosplay for Toronto FanExpo, (had a great time btw, even if I only found one singular piece of DCA merch... Thank you to that one glamrock Chica cosplayer who let me know about it <3) which made me pretty busy. Thus, I wasn't able to work on the fic much except planning out ideas and such.

However!! Chapter one is over 5k words in length (BIG accomplishment for me. Around 10k is planned for the first chapter) and chapters like 1-4 pretty well planned out. I ironed out some plot holes in my plans and added in some silly fun foreshadowing, so look out for that :3

Thank you so much for the wait everyone, and I can't wait to share my story with you! I hope you guys will like it, even if I'd say I'm more of an artist than a writer :)

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 24

⋆｡°✩ mirrors ✩°｡⋆

"When you're dealing with Jason, who talks about literature like it matters and opens car doors, the friendship bracelet feels like something from a different version of you. One that's messier, pettier, still half-formed."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 8k

content: coffee dates with intelectual men (jason derulooooo), friendship bracelet anxiety, protective!yoongi, mia aftermath discussions, tessa planning

✧ author's note ✧

Okay. Before you all start side-eyeing Jason for breathing, let's set something straight—you're biased. And you're totally valid for that.

This is a Jungkook x Reader fanfic. Obviously, we're all rooting for the emotionally constipated trauma boy who talks with his eyes and stores all his feelings behind gym towels and granola bars. I get it. I'm rooting for him too. But Jason is not here to steal your man. He's here to teach. To nudge. To trigger reflection. He's not necessarily here to stay—but he is important. For Y/N. For her growth. For us to see what it looks like when she's treated decently on surface level, so we can question what actually feels good, and what merely feels safe.

Jason, like every man I write, is not perfect. (You'd think I'd spare at least one of them but alas, I'm God here and a mean one.) Y/N is looking at him through rose-colored glasses—yes, that's intentional. But this is not your cue to dissect him like a frog and declare "something about him rubs me wrong, Kiki please kill him." Let's calm down, Hannibal. Not every man who isn't Jungkook is a villain in this story.

And speaking of bias—let's talk about Y/N. I want to gently remind you all: this story is told through her perspective. That means the narration is not omniscient. It's filtered through a lens of impulsivity, self-sabotage, and defense mechanisms. She's in her 20s and emotionally immature in ways that mirror her environment, her upbringing, her trauma. So yes—you'll read lines where she praises Jason and drags Jungkook through the mud like he owes her money. That's part of her architecture. Not mine. I don't write self-insert. I write character. And Y/N is doing what a lot of us do—projecting simplicity onto what's new and shiny, and demonizing what's familiar and complicated.

Because when you're operating from trauma, you fixate on the flaws that allow you to detach. On the safe narrative. Jungkook is socks on the couch. Jungkook is dumb. Jungkook is the roommate who yells too loudly when he's playing CoD. Not Jungkook who didn't burst into his bedroom during her panic attack because he knew she wouldn't want to be seen. Not Jungkook who's messy, perhaps not attentive when it comes to mugs in the sink—but attentive in the things that matter.

So yes. Y/N is unfair toward Jungkook in this chapter. And Jungkook is unfair toward her, too. And they will keep on being unfair and you'll want to scream and you'll say 'they're stupid' and yes they are. That's the point. That's humanity. That's how we cope—through flawed logic and messy defenses. It's ugly and real and mine.

Tessa. Let's go there. I've said it before, but I'll reiterate it loud enough for the back rows: Tessa is not the villain. She's not here to be the hot girl we all collectively throw into a fictional toilet. She's kind. She's respectful. She shares common interests with Jungkook. She's doing her thing. And that's exactly why she throws Y/N off. Because it would be easier to hate her if she were rude. If she were smug. But she's not. And that's the dissonance. That's the discomfort. Tessa would probably be a friend if the circumstances were different. But she's not. She's interested in Jungkook. And Y/N is sleeping with Jungkook. So while jealousy isn't the correct word, there's still that… gut feeling. That primal "mine" that you don't have to be in love to feel. Especially when someone's the only person who's ever made you feel wanted and safe in your body. (She did say he knows where the clit is. Let's not forget that.)

And Jungkook—again, for all his confusion and emotional hoarding—does not make fun of her for liking things. He forces her to confront her wants, to allow herself to enjoy things without guilt. Encourages them. Creates space for them. And she doesn't consciously realize that. But subconsciously? It's why she's defensive. Why she's scared of losing it.

Last thing I'll touch on: Yoongi. Because I love the way he shows up here—not loud, not meddling, but present. I made a point of explaining his schedule (beyond just plot convenience lmao) because I think it's important to portray him realistically. He's a producer. He's constantly working. And yet, when he is home, he doesn't overstep. He doesn't offer gossip. He doesn't reveal Jungkook's mess. He respects Jungkook's boundaries. He gives Y/N a branch. A little nudge. And if you know Yoongi, you know that's massive. That's someone who sees pain but respects the privacy of it. That's how love shows up in quiet friendships.

So yeah. That's Chapter 24. Not a love story. Not yet. It's a story about mirrors. About coping. About not knowing what you want until someone else tries to hand it to you, and you flinch.

Enjoy Jason while he's here. He's the first of some.

Now go read. Come back messy.

Love, Kiki (who writes enemies-to-lovers and then gets mad when they don't like each other yet) (ಥ﹏ಥ)

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

Turns out seventy-something grandmothers also read vampire and werewolf books. 

Sunday shifts at Barnes & Noble are usually dead—just you, the books, and the occasional lost tourist looking for the bathroom. 

But today feels off-kilter, like everything's been shifted two inches to the left. 

You keep catching yourself touching the bracelet on your wrist, the beads spelling "ROGUE" pressed against your skin, a constant reminder of last night's decisions.

You still haven't taken it off. Haven't even considered it, really, which is weird because it's just a stupid tacky bracelet. Wearing it shouldn't mean anything. It's not like you and Jungkook are actually friends.

Are you?

…No. Definitely not. Just roommates who occasionally don't want to murder each other. Roommates who sometimes have really good sex. Roommates who made matching bracelets in a moment of insanity.

Fuck, that does sound like friendship.

"Excuse me, dear?"

The voice pulls you from your spiral, and you realize you've been staring at the same page of inventory for at least two minutes. 

The woman standing at your register is tiny, maybe five feet tall on a good day, with perfectly coiffed silver hair and pearl earrings that are definitely not fake.

"Sorry," you mutter, quickly scanning the five hardcover books she's placed on the counter. The entire Twilight saga, special edition with gold-edged pages. "Did you find everything okay?"

"Oh yes, thank you," she says, pulling out a wallet that looks expensive in that understated way rich people prefer. "My book club is doing a throwback month. We're revisiting our guilty pleasures."

You nod absently, focusing on bagging the books without making eye contact. Just get through this transaction and then you can go back to questioning your life choices in peace.

"So," she says as you process her credit card, "Team Edward or Team Jacob?"

Your head snaps up, certain you've misheard.

"I'm sorry?"

"The eternal question," she says with a wink. "Which supernatural suitor would you choose? The brooding vampire or the hot-headed werewolf?"

Is this happening? Is this actually happening right now? 

You stare at her, completely dumbfounded. 

She's got to be at least seventy, wearing a cashmere cardigan and sensible heels, asking you about fictional teen heart-throbs like you're at a middle school sleepover.

You open your mouth to give some non-committal answer, but then you remember Dora from the laundry room. How quickly you'd dismissed her as a cranky old lady, only to discover she was just a widow feeling lonely. 

Maybe this woman is the same—just looking for a moment of connection in her day.

"I'm honestly Team Alice," you say, surprising yourself with the genuine smile that forms. "She was probably a better choice than either of those two drama queens."

The woman's face lights up with delight. 

"Oh! Bold choice. I like that." She leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "I'm Team Edward, myself. I guess I like old men after all."

A startled laugh escapes before you can stop it. "He is like a hundred years old in a teenager's body. Very problematic."

"Precisely why it's a guilty pleasure, my dear," she says, accepting the bag you hand her. "The best kind of fiction lets us enjoy things we'd find appalling in real life."

There's something weirdly profound about that statement coming from a pearl-wearing grandmother buying vampire romance novels on a Sunday afternoon.

"Enjoy your book club," you say, meaning it.

"I will. And you enjoy whatever team you're on," she replies with a wink, nodding toward your wrist where the friendship bracelet sits.

Before you can respond, she's walking away, her heels clicking rhythmically against the floor. 

You stare after her, feeling like you've just had some kind of surreal encounter with a Twilight-loving fairy godmother.

The rest of your shift passes in a blur of restocking shelves and helping lost customers find the bathroom. 

By the time you clock out, the Twilight grandma feels like a fever dream—something your brain made up to break the monotony. But the conversation stays with you, an unexpected bright spot in an otherwise tedious day.

You're still thinking about it when you unlock the apartment door three hours later.

"Hello?" you call out, dropping your keys on the entry table with a clatter.

Nothing.

The apartment is empty, the silence confirming what you already knew—you've got the place to yourself. 

No Yoongi with his silent judgment. No Griffin with his judgmental silence. And no Jungkook with his... 

…

Whatever.

You check your phone. 

An hour and a half until you're supposed to meet Jason for coffee. 

Plenty of time to shower away the retail grime and maybe even put on something that doesn't scream ‘I've been folding books for eight hours.’

As if sensing your thoughts, your phone pings with a text.

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧: 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 4? 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙? 

You bite back a smile. 

He's offering to pick you up? So he remembers where he dropped you off that one time after class? 

That's... actually kind of sweet. A guy who actually pays attention to details.

It's refreshing after dealing with Jungkook, who once put an empty milk carton back in the fridge and claimed he ‘didn't notice’ it was empty. Like someone just happened to drink all the milk and then carefully put the empty container back exactly where they found it. 

Idiot.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜! 𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝 𝟺 ❤️

You don’t know why you’re using proper caps now, or why you add the heart emoji. It’s all without thinking, and you stare at it for a solid five seconds wondering if it's too much. 

But it's already sent, and honestly, it's just an emoji. Not like you're proposing marriage.

As you scroll back through your messages, another unread text catches your eye. From last night. When your phone pinged during the bracelet exchange with Jungkook.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚑𝚎𝚢! 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝! 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞! 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎? 𝚒'𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎! 🥰

Oh.

Oh right.

Tessa from last night. The literal goddess with perfect hair who wanted your advice about dating Jungkook. The girl you told to go for it because, why not? He could do a lot worse than someone genuinely nice and put-together. 

You stare at the text for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say to that. Because it’s weird. It feels weird.

No, the weird feeling is probably just that you're not sure you want to get involved in Jungkook's love life. It's one thing to suggest Tessa make a move, but playing matchmaker? Giving ongoing advice? That's crossing into territory that feels uncomfortably personal.

Plus, you're kind of sleeping with him. Would be weird to help another girl date your fuck buddy. Not because you care who else he sleeps with—you don't. Obviously. But it would just be... awkward.

And what would you even say? ‘Hey Tessa, here's how to seduce my roommate: play hard to get, argue with him constantly, then jump his bones when he least expects it. Works for me!’

Yeah, no.

You set your phone down without replying. You'll deal with Tessa later. After your coffee with Jason. After you've had a shower and maybe some time to think about how to navigate this bizarre social situation you've somehow landed in.

As you head to the bathroom, you catch your reflection in the hallway mirror. You look tired, a little rumpled from your shift, but not terrible. Your eyes drift down to the colorful beads circling your wrist. ROGUE, spelled out in childish letter beads. 

You could take it off. Probably should, honestly. It's not like you're twelve, wearing friendship bracelets with your BFF.

But your fingers don't move toward the clasp. 

Instead, you just turn away from the mirror and continue toward the bathroom.

It's just a bracelet. It doesn't mean anything.

You'll take it off tomorrow.

Funny how a look can make you remember what it’s like to feel beautiful.

Jason’s car is clean. Not serial killer clean, but neat in a way that feels vaguely impressive for a guy who’s in grad school and not living off a diet of ramen and emotional repression. 

When you slide into the passenger seat, your dress rides up just a little, and you catch him glance—brief, polite, but definitely there. 

You don’t blame him. You look good.

Hair curled. Lip gloss strawberry-slick. Earrings you almost forgot you owned. The black dress is simple but it fits just right, hugging the curve of your waist like it was designed to hold you together when you forget how. 

You’d like to pretend you don’t care what Jason thinks, but you shaved above the knee and sprayed perfume behind your knees, so.

He smiles when he sees you, soft and almost surprised. “Hey. Wow.”

‘Wow’. Not ‘you look nice’, not ‘I like your dress’. 

Just wow, like he wasn’t prepared for this version of you.

Like he’s seeing you, not the outfit.

You kind of love that.

“Hey yourself.” 

You buckle in and feel the nerves pull tighter in your chest. You’re not used to being nervous anymore. You’ve fucked your way through worse situations than this. 

But this isn’t sex. This is coffee. 

Somehow infinitely more exposing.

The drive is short, music low—Jason puts on some indie playlist that’s equal parts folky and hipster, and you catch lyrics about moons and bones and the way someone smells in spring. He doesn’t talk much on the way, but it’s not awkward. Just quiet. Thoughtful. There’s a kind of comfort in that, in not having to fill every second with chatter.

When you arrive, you wonder if you’ve accidentally agreed to a second location with a man who might bankrupt you. 

Because this coffee shop? It is sleek and minimalist, all marble tables and matte-black finishes, the kind of place where the baristas wear aprons and pour water like they’re performing surgery.

And holy shit, it smells amazing. Not in the burnt hazelnut way you’re used to from campus cafés, but rich, deep—vanilla and cinnamon and fresh grounds that probably cost more per ounce than your soul.

Jason holds the door open for you. Doesn’t make a big deal of it. Just does it like it’s second nature. And okay, fine, you notice that. You’re not made of stone.

You order the strawberry latte on a whim, mostly because the flavor name makes you smile—‘blushberry blossom’ (c’mon that’s such a cute name)—and partly because the idea of something pink and ridiculous feels like rebellion in a place this serious. Jason, for his part, gets a cortado.

You sit by the window, where light slants in gold and sharp across the marble, catching on the rim of your cup and your collarbone. 

Here, the world outside feels very far away—no Griffin knocking shit over, no roommates stomping around the apartment like emotional hurricanes. Just soft jazz and clinking spoons and the man across from you who keeps doing this thing where he leans in slightly when you talk, like he doesn’t want to miss anything you say.

“You really think that about Bishop?” he asks, eyebrows up.

You nod. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not that I think she hated women, but there’s definitely an internalized thing going on in the way she writes about domesticity. Like she’s performing detachment because that’s the only way to survive inside it.”

Jason exhales, a quiet sound of admiration. “That’s really smart.”

You shrug, suddenly a little too warm. 

Compliments on your appearance are easy to swat away. 

This kind—the you’re actually intelligent and I’m listening to you kind—sticks in your chest like static.

Your latte arrives, delicate as hell. Pale pink with foamy swirls and a single edible flower floating on top. Instagram bait. You take a sip, expecting something syrupy and fake, but it’s…

Huh.

You pause. Purse your lips. The taste is sweet, but not in a candy way. More like… too smooth. Like it’s missing bitterness. But it’s fine. Just—off, somehow. 

Not bad, just… not what you were expecting. 

You take another sip.

Still weird. Still fine.

You say nothing. Just keep talking, keep leaning into the conversation, because Jason’s eyes are lit up and he’s asking you questions like he actually cares about the answers.

You talk about poetry, about undergrad nonsense, about that one professor who only teaches in metaphors and might actually be a tree in disguise. Jason laughs at your jokes and adds his own and it’s easy. Like, actually easy. Like your brain isn’t doing somersaults trying to predict the next emotional landmine.

Halfway through the drink, he glances down at your wrist and tilts his head.

“Is that… a friendship bracelet?”

You glance at it before you remember it’s there. 

Your hand had been resting on the table, fingers curled lightly around your cup, the ROGUE beads facing up like they want to be seen.

Shit.

You forgot you were still wearing it. In fact, haven’t you been wearing it all day? All shift. Through your shower. Through putting on perfume. Through curling your hair. Through walking out the door knowing someone might see it.

You pull your wrist back instinctively. Not fast enough to be defensive, just enough to make it clear you hadn’t meant for it to be a conversation piece.

Jason doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t tease. Just raises his eyebrows, curious but not unkind.

“Oh,” you say, pretending it’s nothing. “Yeah. It’s—stupid. A joke, kind of.”

Jason’s brow furrows. “No, it’s cool. I mean, it’s cute. Just wasn’t expecting that from you.”

You laugh, a little too fast. “Yeah, me neither.”

“It’s not a bad look,” he offers. “Very… I don’t know. Vintage, maybe?”

He says it in the tone of someone trying to offer reassurance, not judgment. 

And that’s the thing, because he hasn’t said anything bad about it. 

It’s you. 

You feel it. That quiet little itch of self-consciousness blooming under your skin. 

And suddenly you are twelve years old, and someone just caught you doodling hearts in your notebook. 

You feel… silly.

Not because it’s a dumb bracelet—it is—but because it’s on your wrist in this place, with this person. 

With Jason, who talks about literature like it matters, who picked you up on time, who smells like sandalwood and books, who looks at you like he’s trying to memorize your mouth.

The bracelet feels like something from a different version of you. One that’s messier, pettier, still half-formed. The version that knocks Jungkook’s protein powder off the counter just to watch him flinch. The one who keeps secrets in locked journals under the bed.

You press your wrist lightly against your thigh under the table, hiding it without really hiding it. Jason doesn’t press. He just sips his coffee and asks what you think about Rainer Maria Rilke.

You tell him. You talk about how Letters to a Young Poet changed the way you understood loneliness. About how writing doesn’t have to be for anyone else. About how maybe there’s something holy about solitude when it’s chosen.

He listens like the world’s on mute.

And maybe, just maybe, you start to believe the things you’re saying. Maybe you start to feel like someone worth listening to.

“You should read this essay by Gilbert and Gubar,” he says, pulling out his phone to make a note. “I’ll send you the link. It’s about the madwoman in the attic as a feminist symbol. Might give you some interesting perspectives.”

“That would be great,” you say, soft smile tugging at your lips. 

It’s been ages since you’ve had a conversation like this—someone who not only gets your academic interests but actively engages with them.

“You’re really smart, you know that?” he says suddenly, setting down his mug. “Like, genuinely insightful. You should consider applying to graduate programs.”

The compliment catches you off guard, warmth spreading through your chest. 

“I’ve thought about it,” you admit. “But it’s competitive. And expensive.”

“True,” he nods. “But there are fellowships. And based on what I’ve heard from you in class and now, I think you’d have a shot.”

You take another sip of your too-sweet latte to hide how pleased you are. It’s not that you need validation, but… okay, maybe you do, a little. Who doesn’t?

“I could help you look into programs, if you want,” he offers. “No pressure, just… I know the landscape pretty well.”

“That would be amazing, actually,” you say, meaning it.

By the time you’ve both finished your drinks, the afternoon light has shifted. You’ve been talking for over two hours, and it’s only when you check your phone that you realize how much time has passed.

“I should probably get you home,” Jason says, checking his watch reluctantly. “I’ve got a stack of papers to grade before tomorrow.”

“Right,” you nod, equally reluctant to end the afternoon. “Teaching assistant duties call.”

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, then brightens. “But I’d love to do this again. Maybe dinner next time?”

“I’d like that,” you say, and you really would.

After 10 minutes in his car, you think he’s turning toward your apartment. 

You’re wrong.

Jason’s blinker flicks left instead of right, merging smoothly into traffic like this isn’t a diversion. Like it’s part of the plan.

You glance over, raising an eyebrow. “Um. Home’s the other way.”

He smiles, eyes still on the road. “I know. I wanted to show you something first.”

Your chest flutters—nothing dramatic, just a soft little hum, like the opening notes of a song you don’t recognize but already like. You sink back into the seat and let yourself be curious.

The drive winds west, toward the river, buildings falling away into stretches of old brick warehouses and glass condo towers that look like they belong in an entirely different version of your life. One where you probably own a milk frother and know what saffron tastes like.

Jason doesn’t say much, just tunes the radio to some local jazz station and hums softly along. The golden hour light cuts sideways through the windshield, warm and syrupy, painting the world in blush and amber.

He pulls over near a quiet overlook, where the road widens into a shoulder and the guardrail curls just enough to frame the view. The Hudson stretches wide in front of you, molasses-slow and glittering under a sky that’s all pinks and orange melt, the kind of sunset you always say you’ll watch more often but never do.

He doesn’t make it a thing. Just kills the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and nods toward the passenger side.

“Come on.”

You follow, caught in that half-stunned, half-swoony state that makes your steps feel floaty. 

The air outside is cooler than you expect, touched with that river dampness that curls around your ankles and lifts the hair on your arms. The water looks like glass, rippling only when the wind brushes across it.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, stepping closer to the edge. 

The view is stupid. Like, actually unfair. The sky’s a cliché in real time—cotton candy pink and tangerine and just the faintest smear of lavender toward the edges. 

You pull out your phone without thinking, framing the scene like muscle memory.

One shot.

Then another.

Then one with your shoulder in the corner, just to prove you were here.

Jason stands a little off to the side, hands in the pockets of his coat. 

He’s not watching the view—he’s watching you look at the view, which somehow makes it feel even more unreal.

“I didn’t want the date to end in a parking lot,” he says quietly.

You smile down at your phone, thumbs already moving. You pick the best one, swipe through a filter, drop the saturation just a little. Caption: this sky is a lie and I’m letting it.

You post without thinking. It’s just a sunset. It’s just a moment. But it feels worth remembering.

A notification pops up a few seconds later. Like.

Then another.

Then—

35mmghost liked your photo.

You blink.

Snort.

Okay. What?

You don’t say anything, just stare at the name for a beat longer than necessary. 

35mmghost. 

That is… not what you expected Jason’s Instagram handle to be. If it is Jason’s. Which would be hilarious. And weirdly endearing.

You flick a glance toward him. He’s smiling to you, with his phone between his fingers. Like you just caught him.

He just pockets it and gazes out at the river like he’s trying to memorize it. 

You file it away. Not important. Probably. Just… cute.

Jason, apparently, has a secret artsy side. 

And a dramatic username.

Ghost, really?

You like it. Quietly. Silently. The same way he let you have the view.

He doesn’t know you noticed. Doesn’t try to impress you with it.

And for once, you don’t overanalyze. You just let yourself stand there, cheeks a little pink from the wind and the compliment still buzzing somewhere behind your ribs, watching the sky slide into dusk like it’s not even trying to be beautiful.

Like it just is.

When he finally drives you home, you find yourself feeling lighter than you have in weeks. 

There’s something refreshingly straightforward about Jason. 

No games, no cryptic comments, no emotional whiplash. 

Just a smart, mature guy who seems genuinely interested in you.

When he pulls up to your building, he gets out to open your door again—which still feels like something from a movie rather than real life.

“Thanks for today,” you say, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk. 

Is this the part where you kiss? You’re not sure what the protocol is here.

Jason solves the dilemma with a warm smile and a slight step back—respecting your space in that careful way that somehow makes him even more attractive.

"Thank you for making my Sunday exponentially better," he says.

It's such a nerdy, earnest thing to say that you can't help but smile. 

"Exponentially, huh?"

"At least by a factor of ten," he confirms with a grin. "I'll text you about dinner?"

"Sounds good."

You watch him drive away, a pleasant buzz of anticipation tingling in your chest about seeing him again. 

For once, your love life seems straightforward and uncomplicated. 

A mature guy who's exactly what he appears to be. What a fucking novelty.

When you finally make it upstairs, the apartment is still quiet. Still empty. 

You kick your shoes off at the door and shrug off your coat, fingers catching on the thin leather strap of your bag. You leave it on the couch and walk straight to your room, not bothering to turn on any lights. 

There’s enough spill from the windows to see by—blue-gray and soft, the city humming faint in the background like a lullaby that never really ends.

You catch your reflection in the mirror again. 

Dress still hugging you right, lip gloss faded but not completely gone. Your cheeks are flushed in that way that feels natural, earned. 

You look good. You feel good.

But your gaze drifts. Down to your wrist.

There it is. Bright and stupid and clunky against the sleek black of your dress. 

ROGUE.

It looks even more ridiculous now than it did in the café. Like a tacky souvenir trying to pass in a room full of doctoral candidates.

You sigh.

It’s not that you’re ashamed of it, exactly. 

Just… aware of it. 

In a way you weren’t before. 

Aware of what it signals—about you, about the you that exists in here, in this apartment. 

The one who fights over fridge space and burns frozen pizza and still hides snacks under the bed like you’re prepping for an apocalypse Jungkook might eat through.

Jason didn’t make you feel bad about it. Not at all. 

But there was that little jolt of being seen in a way you didn’t mean to be. Like wearing pajamas to class by mistake.

You run your thumb over the beads. They’re slightly warm from your skin, the elastic stretched just enough to make a faint indent on your wrist. 

It’s silly. 

So fucking silly. 

You shouldn’t have even worn it out. It doesn’t belong in cafés with marble tables and edible flowers. Doesn’t belong with guys who talk about Rilke and open your door and make you feel like your brain is the most interesting thing about you.

It belongs here. Inside these walls. In the shared chaos of mismatched mugs and territorial coffee wars and Griffin sleeping on your face. 

It belongs in the version of you that forgets to do laundry and screams at reality TV and gets off with your roommate like it’s just another way to burn through stress.

Maybe it’s time to choose. Or at least… edit.

You slide the bracelet off. Slowly. Carefully. Set it down on your dresser, next to the copy of The Bell Jar you’ve been meaning to reread and a half-burnt candle that smells like peaches and something faintly smoky.

You’ll still wear it sometimes. Just not… when you go out with Jason. Not when you want to feel sleek and composed and like maybe, just maybe, you’re building something a little more deliberate than chaos. 

Maybe that’s okay.

You leave it where it is.

And you don’t stop to think whether Jungkook is even wearing it at all.

“You’re alive?”

The words slip out before you can stop them, a bit too loud for a quiet apartment and a bit too sarcastic for someone who just walked through the front door. 

But it’s Yoongi. You’re pretty sure he came out of the womb with a glare and noise-cancelling headphones.

He gives you a flat look, keys jingling as he kicks the door shut behind him. 

No hello, no how was your day, just a flick of his eyes from your face to your bare legs stretched across the coffee table, one foot propped up like you’re posing for a toenail polish ad no one asked for.

“Didn’t expect you home,” you add, waving your freshly painted big toe in his direction. “Figured you were off ghosting the apartment all weekend like usual.”

He drops his messenger bag by the door with a soft thud, shrugs like the weight of being perceived is too much.

“Didn’t have that much work today,” he says, deadpan, already halfway to the kitchen. “Been overworking all week. Even I get tired of being productive.”

You blink. “Wait—you work on Sundays?”

“I work always,” he calls back, grabbing a mug from the cabinet like it personally offended him. “What’s your point?”

You roll your eyes, adjusting your foot on the arm of the couch so the polish doesn’t smudge. 

“My point is, maybe stop pretending you’re not a person and do something degenerate for once. Watch trash TV. Go outside.”

“I went outside,” he mutters, reaching for the coffee grounds. “Regret it.”

“You’re making coffee now?” You glance at the clock. “You’ll be awake all night.”

“Mm,” Yoongi says, which is less a response and more a vibe. “Not like I’ve slept properly in a week anyway.”

“That sounds healthy,” you sing, flicking the cap back onto the nail polish bottle. 

You don’t know when this stopped being weird—talking to him like this. 

It’s not friendship, exactly, but it’s not not that either. 

Comfortable-ish. Low maintenance. The kind of dynamic that doesn’t need checking in.

Griffin trots out from wherever he was napping, tail flicking with that ‘where the fuck is my dinner, peasants’ energy.

You lean over and scratch behind his ear. “Still no sign of your boy?”.

Yoongi shrugs —his primary form of communication—then cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “JUNGKOOK!”

The silence that follows is answer enough.

“Nah, he’s not home,” Yoongi confirms unnecessarily.

You roll your eyes, screwing the cap back on your nail polish. “Thanks for the thorough investigation.”

You go back to focusing on your second foot, tongue poking out slightly as you try not to smear the top coat. 

Then—

“Hey,” he says, casual but not. “By the way…”

You pause, brush hovering mid-air.

“…I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Your stomach drops. 

Those words never precede anything good. 

Is he kicking you out? Did you do something wrong? Is the rent going up? Did he find your secret stash of chocolate-covered pretzels hidden behind the rice?

“Okay…” you say cautiously, sitting up straighter. “What’s up?”

Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee, still not meeting your eyes. The silence stretches just long enough to make your anxiety spike before he finally speaks.

“It’s about Jungkook.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Did Jungkook complain about you? Is Yoongi about to give you some weird roommate intervention? Does he know about the… arrangement you and Jungkook have? 

God, that would be mortifying.

“What about him?” you ask, aiming for casual but landing somewhere closer to defensive.

Yoongi presses his lips together like he’s trying to decide if speaking is worth the effort. Spoiler: it usually isn’t.

Then—quiet, low: 

“Back at the karaoke place… you met Mia, right?”

You freeze mid-swipe, the brush hovering just above your toenail. There’s a split second where your brain tries to play dumb. Pretend you didn’t. Pretend you forgot. But your body answers before your mouth does—shoulders tensing, breath pulling tight behind your ribs.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I remember.”

And you do. Perfectly. Chanel and Louboutins and weaponized perfume. Voice like saccharine venom and teeth too white to be trustworthy. 

You remember the grip on your arm. The way Jungkook looked—vacant, off, like someone unplugged him at the base of the spine.

Yoongi nods once, eyes fixed on his coffee like it might offer divine clarity.

“I need to know what happened.” 

His voice isn’t demanding, not exactly. Just… steady. Firm in a way you’ve never heard from him before. 

“What did she say to him?”

You shift on the couch, pulling your knees up to make room for Griffin, who hops beside you with zero regard for the wet polish on your toes. 

You don’t answer right away. Not because you’re trying to avoid it—it’s just that you’re not sure how to answer.

Yoongi doesn’t push. Just waits.

You glance toward the kitchen, then back at him. 

“I didn’t hear everything,” you start. “She was already talking to him when I found them. I didn’t even know who she was at first, just thought—some random girl, y’know?”

He nods once. Still waiting.

“She was dressed like she had three bodyguards waiting outside,” you add, because you can’t help yourself. “Total Upper East Side vibes. Like she was slumming it for the night.”

That earns a dry little huff from Yoongi. Almost a laugh. Almost.

Your fingers twitch against your thigh. 

“She knew it was his birthday,” you say, softer now. “Said it all sweet but—like. Fake sweet, you know? Like she was performing nice but wanted him to feel like shit for not inviting her.”

Yoongi’s jaw ticks as he listens. He’s still holding the coffee mug, but you can tell he’s not really drinking anymore. Just holding it like a prop.

“She said…” Your voice trails off. You swallow. “She said, ‘Try not to have too much fun without me.’ And something about his dad. I didn’t catch all of it. But her tone—it was like… she wanted to rattle him.”

Now Yoongi finally looks at you. Not full on, not probing, but enough to catch your face in his periphery. 

“She mentioned his dad?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Just—like, she knew it’d hit a nerve. She said something about ‘not replacing her’ or whatever. I don’t know the full context, but... whatever it was, it fucked with him. He looked—”

You pause. 

The image flashes in your head: Jungkook standing in the hallway, motionless. His face locked down, shoulders tight. Like something inside him had short-circuited.

“He looked small,” you say quietly. “Scared. Not like himself.”

Yoongi takes that in. Doesn’t react right away. He just huffs out a breath through his nose and leans back against the edge of the kitchen counter.

Another pause.

Then: “She’s good at that.”

He says it flatly. No inflection. No explanation.

You tilt your head. “You know her?”

“Not much. But I know exactly what he looked like after her.”

You’re quiet, sensing the line. The invisible perimeter Yoongi keeps between what’s his to share and what isn’t.

“I’m not asking for his secrets,” you say, meaning it.

“Good,” he replies instantly. “Because they’re not mine to give.”

That makes you like him more. Irritatingly so.

You don’t push. But your gaze stays on him, curious.

Yoongi shrugs, finally setting his mug down on the counter. “I’ve only known him for a year and a half, so I wasn’t around back then. Not for most of it. But she left damage.”

You stay quiet.

“She knows his pressure points. Knows when to act like she’s joking and when to twist the knife.” He rubs the back of his neck like he hates even saying this out loud. “Jungkook’s got a... hard time with boundaries. Especially when it comes to people he used to love.”

Used to. Interesting phrasing.

Your lips part slightly, but Yoongi’s already waving a hand like he regrets going this far. “Anyway. Not my drama. Just wanted to know what she said. He didn’t tell us much.”

“Us?”

Yoongi shrugs again, folding his arms. “Me, Taehyung, Hobi. The ones that showed up when she blew everything up.”

You blink. “Blew everything up?”

He gives you a look. Not mean. Not angry. Just—measured. Like he’s deciding how much to trust you.

“I said too much already,” he mutters. “But yeah. That hallway thing? That wasn’t nothing. I just needed to hear it from someone who saw it up close.”

You nod slowly. “Makes sense.”

Silence again. Not uncomfortable exactly. But heavy.

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair and glances down at Griffin, who’s now making biscuits into a throw pillow like he pays rent. 

“He didn’t tell you anything, huh?”

“No.” The word comes out before you can stop it. Then, quieter: “He just said he needed air.”

Yoongi exhales. “Figures.”

You want to ask more. About Mia. About Jungkook. About what the hell happened that’s got Yoongi this protective over someone he’s known for less than two years. But something in his expression makes you hold your tongue.

So you just nod, brushing your fingers lightly over Griffin’s back.

After a beat, you say, “Thanks for telling me. Even if it was just a little.”

Yoongi lifts his coffee mug in a half-toast. “Don’t read into it. You were there. I needed intel. That’s all.”

You smirk. “Sure.”

But you both know that’s not all.

Not even close.

"Wait," you call out just as Yoongi's about to disappear completely. 

You're not sure why you feel compelled to say this—it's not like you owe Tessa anything—but after everything you've just learned about Mia, it feels important somehow.

Yoongi pauses, hand on his doorknob, eyebrows raised in silent question.

"That girl at the birthday party," you say, the words tumbling out before you can overthink them. "Tessa? I think she genuinely likes him. Like, in a normal way."

You don't know why you're telling him this. 

Maybe because after hearing about Mia's toxicity, the idea of someone simple and sweet being interested in Jungkook feels like information worth sharing. 

Yoongi tilts his head slightly. "The ginger one? Sat next to him?"

"Yeah," you nod, surprised he noticed. "She asked for my advice, actually. About him. She wants to get coffee with me to talk about it."

"Huh." Yoongi leans against his doorframe, considering this. "She seemed... nice."

The way he says ‘nice’ makes it sound like he's describing an alien species he's only read about in textbooks.

"She is nice," you confirm. "Like, genuinely nice. Soft. Girly.  Probably doesn't have any emotional baggage or toxic exes lurking around corners."

You're babbling now, but you can't seem to stop. 

Because you feel guilty. 

Because you told this nice beautiful girl to go for an emotionally stunted dude who apparently has way too much baggage. 

Because maybe Jungkook is not even ready for any of this.

"I told her to go for it. With Jungkook, I mean. Before I knew about... all this Mia stuff."

Yoongi's expression shifts subtly—a slight narrowing of the eyes. "You're playing matchmaker now?"

There's no judgment in his voice, just curiosity, but you feel defensive anyway.

"Not matchmaking," you clarify. "Just... I don't know. Being supportive? She asked, I answered. It's not a big deal."

"Right," Yoongi says, in a tone that suggests he thinks it might actually be a big deal. "And how does Jungkook feel about Tessa?"

You shrug, suddenly realizing you have no idea. "I don't know. They're in some classes together I think. He hasn't mentioned her."

"Jungkook doesn't mention a lot of things," Yoongi points out.

"True." You fiddle with the cap of your nail polish, avoiding his gaze. "I just thought... she’s nice. And so pretty. I just thought… maybe it could do him some good—before I even knew about this, I mean.”

Yoongi makes a noncommittal sound. "Maybe."

"You don't think so?"

He shrugs. "It's not about what I think. It's about whether Jungkook's ready for someone new. Especially someone... nice."

The way he says it makes you wonder if ‘nice’ is a liability in Jungkook's world. 

If after someone like Mia, ‘nice’ feels too foreign, too simple.

"Well, I already told her to go for it," you say, feeling suddenly uncertain. "Should I... un-tell her?"

Yoongi actually smiles at that—a small, fleeting thing, but definitely a smile. "No. Let it play out. Who knows? Maybe you're right. Maybe nice is exactly what he needs."

He doesn't sound convinced, but he doesn't sound dismissive either.

"Okay," you say, relieved. "I just... wanted you to know. Since we're apparently on Team Jungkook now."

Yoongi snorts. "I've always been on Team Jungkook. You're the new recruit."

"I didn't exactly volunteer," you point out.

"And yet here you are," he says, "worrying about his love life."

You open your mouth to protest, then close it again. 

He's not wrong.

"Anyway," Yoongi continues, "thanks for telling me about Tessa. And about what happened with Mia."

You nod, feeling like you've passed some kind of test you didn't know you were taking.

Yoongi gives you one last unreadable look before finally retreating into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

You sit there for a moment, processing the entire bizarre conversation. 

In the span of fifteen minutes, you've gone from painting your toenails in peaceful solitude to being drafted into some kind of Protect Jungkook squad with Yoongi, of all people.

Life in Apartment 6B just keeps getting weirder.

Thirty-seven minutes later, you're sprawled on your bed, hair still damp from the shower, staring at Tessa's unanswered text like it's a bomb you need to defuse.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚑𝚎𝚢! 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢? 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎? 🙂

You’re second-guessing everything after that conversation with Yoongi. 

Should you really be encouraging Tessa to pursue Jungkook when you know he's still dealing with Mia-shaped emotional shrapnel? Is it fair to either of them?

But then again, who are you to play gatekeeper to Jungkook's love life? Maybe Tessa is exactly what he needs—someone sweet and uncomplicated. Someone who doesn't have the baggage of a toxic ex or whatever the hell happened with his father.

You groan and flop back against your pillows. 

Why do you even care? 

It's not like you and Jungkook are anything to each other. You're just roommates who occasionally fuck. 

You’re barely even… friends.

The word acquires a weird shape in your mind.

You pick up your phone again, determined to respond to Tessa without overthinking it.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚊! 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢. 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 2 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝?

You hit send before you can change your mind. 

It's just coffee. It's not like you're arranging a marriage.

Truth is, next week’s already packed—Yeji’s gallery prep, that shift you picked up for someone who ‘owes you one’ but never actually pays up, and whatever Jungkook’s been muttering about needing help with but refusing to ask. 

It’s easier to just skip ahead. Two weeks. Feels safer. Less chance of Tessa becoming something to manage short-term.

Her response comes almost immediately.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚢𝚊𝚢𝚢𝚢 🥰! 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚂𝚢𝚛𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝙴. 𝟷𝚜𝚝 𝚂𝚝. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚛, 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞!

You know Syrup—it's one of those Instagram-bait cafés with latte art and avocado toast that costs more than your hourly wage. Not exactly your usual haunt, but it's not too far from campus.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚢𝚛𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜! 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝 2 💕

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝! 𝚒’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚞𝚙! 

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜!!!

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚:𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 🤗

You stare at the message, a knot forming in your stomach. 

Because you don't ‘get’ Jungkook. Not really. 

You didn't know about his dad, or the full extent of the Mia situation, or why he disappeared to the rooftop that night. 

You know he likes John Mayer and makes good coffee and his favorite position is cowgirl.

You know he smells like rain and his hands are always warm and he secretly carries cat treats around.

But those are just details, not understanding.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍���'𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒 ’𝚐𝚎𝚝’ 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚎 𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗 :) 

That feels safer. 

Better to lower her expectations now than have her think you're some Jungkook whisperer with all the answers.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚊𝚑, 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢! 

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕!!

Intimidated by Jungkook? 

The idea is almost laughable. 

How could you be intimidated by someone who once spent twenty minutes trying to coax Griffin out from under the couch with a piece of string cheese?

But then you remember how other people see him—the sharp jawline, the tattoos, the way he carries himself like he’s not actually dumb as hell. 

You can see how someone like Tessa might find him intimidating.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚏𝚏𝚏𝚏𝚏

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚡, 𝚜𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖

You hesitate, then add:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠

It feels important to add that caveat, even if you're not sure why. 

Maybe because of what Yoongi told you. 

Maybe because you've seen glimpses of that complication yourself.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠!!

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚛 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚞𝚢

You frown at the screen. There's something about her response that doesn't sit right with you. Like she's romanticizing the very things that make Jungkook difficult—the walls he puts up, the emotional distance, the complications Yoongi hinted at.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝… 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚔? 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚕

You hit send, then immediately regret your tone. That came off way harsher than you meant it to. You're about to type a follow-up when Tessa's reply appears.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚘𝚑 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🙈 𝚒'𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚛𝚗

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚒 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚒'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝... 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗-𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚜? 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚢 😣

Oh. That's actually... kind of sweet. Seems like Jungkook really does have a thing for Korean cinema.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝! 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎... 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚢𝚔?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖. 𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘!

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠/ 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎! 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚕 🙈

Your heart softens a little. There's something vulnerable about the way she just shared that personal detail, then immediately apologized for it.

It reminds you of how you sometimes overshare when you're nervous, then backpedal frantically.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎! 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚍. 𝚒'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚘 :(

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 💕 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚘. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒'𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖! 

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒 𝚍𝚘? 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚜 😔

That actually makes a lot of sense. You can see why she'd be drawn to Jungkook if they share this interest. 

And you know from experience how rare it is to find someone who genuinely cares about the things you're passionate about.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗! 

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 🙄

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚊𝚛-𝚠𝚊𝚒 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚒 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖? 

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 🥺

You can't help but smile a little. She’s clearly excited she is to have found someone who shares her interests. You remember feeling that way with Jason today, when he actually engaged with your thoughts on literature instead of just nodding along.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎! 

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚝𝚠 𝚒 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚗

Tessa takes a moment to reply, the ellipses blinking thoughtfully.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚘𝚑 :( 𝚒 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘 💕

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎!! 𝚒'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠��𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛? 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏?

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙!! 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 🤞

Okay, that feels reasonable. She's acknowledging your concern without getting defensive, and clarifying her own expectations. 

Maybe she's more level-headed than you initially gave her credit for.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍!! 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 <3

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒'𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚘 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 😴

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚌 𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚢𝚛𝚞𝚙! :)

Time to bow out before you accidentally become her relationship coach.

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕!! 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐!! 🥺✨

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊ｙ!! 💖

You put your phone down, feeling a sense of closure on that front, at least for tonight. 

Tessa seems sweet, if a little naive about the potential complications involved with Jungkook. 

But she's also genuinely interested in him for reasons that make sense, and she seems aware enough to proceed with caution.

You roll over, pulling the covers tighter. 

It's weird, offering dating advice about your roommate who you're also sleeping with to a girl you barely know. 

Weirder still that you actually kind of... like her? And want things to work out okay for her?

Maybe you're growing up. Or maybe you're just tired.

Either way, Tuesday is going to be interesting.

goal: 750 notes

if you liked this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee!! ♡'･ᴗ･'♡ https://ko-fi.com/jungkoode

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @jkrailme @rpwprpwprpwprw @mar-lo-pap @jeontae @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @minniejim @btstrology @vialattea00 @curse-of-art @mellyyyyyyx @mimi1097 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @dltyum @dailynnt @sashakittyct @bjoriis @hemmosfear 

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[2tcs]

Day 3: reunions after a long time and rain

“Hay Bruce?” Duke asked as he walked out of the locker room. It was the end of his shift, thank god, so everyone was getting ready for the night shift.

“What's going on chum?”

“My cousin is coming to Gotham for a senior field trip thing next week to visit Gotham U and I was wondering if he and his friends can stay at the manor so they don’t have to pay for a hotel.”

“We’ll have to run a background check on them” “Already done!” Duke interrupted Bruce and jumped around him to get to the batcomputer to open up the files.

“Hmm. You really want your cousin to visit huh.” Bruce said as he scanned through the files.

“Ya. I haven’t seen him in ages and even though we text it’s not the same as an in-person visit. And Gotham isn’t safe for tourists so, manor.”

“Mhm, Duke?”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Why are his and his friends' hometown labeled as unconfirmed?”

“Well, that may be one of the reasons I thought it would be a good idea for everyone to meet them? I know Tucker lives in Amity Park, Illinois. I’ve even visited him there when we were kids. But when I tried to look it up for the background check I couldn’t find it. It’s like it never existed. When I tried to ask him about it he kinda dodged my question and changed the subject. Like he was nervous about someone overhearing.”

“Alright. I’ll inform Tim about their hometown and see if he can find out what’s going on. Make sure you tell Alfried that we are having guests.”

“Thank you so much Bruce! I’ll go tell Alfried right now. Night!” Duke yelled as he ran to the elevator.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tucker! Over here!” Duke yelled as Tucker and his friends got off the bus.

“Duke! It’s good to see you! How have you been?” Tucker said as he ran up to Duke and gave him a side hug while using his free hand to point. “This is Danny and Sam. Danny, Sam. This is my cousin Duke.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Tucker’s told me a lot about you two.” Duke said as he accepted handshakes from Sam then Danny.

“It’s nice to meet you too Duke. Hopefully, Tucker has told you only the worst of things about us.” Sam joked.

“Of course. Hay, did you really switch out all the frogs in your freshman biology class with robot frogs?”

“Don’t remind me. Those things were so creepy. They talked to you as you cut them open.” Danny said with a disgusted face.

“It was more humane than dissecting living animals.” Sam defended herself.

“Wait. The frogs were alive? Tucker! Why was your school using living frogs instead of cadaver frogs?” Duke asked in shock.

“I got no clue man. Anyways, do we need to call a cab to get to your place? Cause I’m not walking in this downpour.” Tucker said while looking around.

“Hold on right there Mr Foley. You all need to sign these forms so we can get ahold of you in case of an emergency.” Mr Lancer said as he walked up to the group with several papers. “And I would also like to speak to your guardian before my students leave so I know they are in safe hands.”

“Ahem. I’m afraid Master Wayne is occupied with work right now but I am his butler, Alfred Pennyworth and I am in charge of taking care of all the needs of the Wayne family and their guests. If need be here is the main phone number for the manor as well as the address. Is there anything else I can do to ensure you of your students’ safety?” Alfred said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and handed Mr Lancer a business card with the aforementioned information written on the back.

“Thank you for this Mr Pennyworth. My name is Lenard Lancer. As the vice principal of Casper High School, I have a duty to the students of our school. So I will still need these three to fill out these forms before they leave.”

“Of course Mr Lancer. I fully understand. Now if you all would please finish with the paperwork, we can load into the car and get out of this dreadful weather.” Alfred said watching as Danny, Sam, and Tucker traded off on using each other's backs to fill out the forms and hand them back to Mr Lancer.

[writerthreads]

How to lock in & get productive (and some general advice)

By Writerthreads on Instagram

I know this isn’t a usual writing post but it is writing-adjacent! I’ve recently fallen into a slump where I just can’t seem to focus after lectures a s long dissection sessions. To help solve this problem, I consulted books, the internet, and my experience for ways to lock the f*ck back in.

Eat the Frog

“Eat the frog” comes from a quote often attributed to Mark Twain:

“If it’s your job to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it’s your job to eat two frogs, it’s best to eat the biggest one first.”

Do the scariest, hardest task of the day first to get it out of the way. This starts the day off on a good note and builds momentum for your whole day.

The Rule of Three

Start each day by deciding the three most important things you want to accomplish. Focusing on just three tasks keeps you from feeling overwhelmed and helps direct your energy.

The 2-Minute Rule

If a task takes two minutes or less, do it right away. This prevents small tasks from piling up and clears mental clutter, making room for more significant tasks.

Time Blocking

Allocate specific time blocks to specific tasks or categories of tasks.

Switching between tasks lowers productivity, so group similar tasks (eg. emails or admin work) together to maintain focus. This ties into:

Batch Processing

For tasks like answering emails or organizing files, batch them together and complete them in one go, so you can get into the flow state and finish repetitive tasks faster.

Pomodoro Technique

Work for 25 minutes, then take a 5-minute break. My variation is doing 25/5, then switching to 50/10 because it takes me some time to get into the flow state and the 25/5 ends it abruptly at times.

Review Your Day and Reflect

At the end of each day, take a few minutes to review what went well, what didn’t, and how you can improve. Celebrate your wins and reflect on how you can do better tomorrow.

Organise Your Workspace and Digital Space

A clean and organized environment reduces distractions and boosts focus. Regularly clear your workspace, organize files, and declutter, and then it into a habit.

General Advice

Touch grass daily: nature helps with relaxation and grounds you

Do something social every day: humans are innately social creatures. Talk to your family and friends and stay in contact with them :)

Exercise, eat & sleep well: it might be hard, but try your best to get 150 minutes of exercise weekly, and eat as healthily as you can. And don’t forget to sleep! (Which is hilariously hypocritical coming from a medic)

It’s ok if you have an off day! Sometimes a slow day is just your body telling you that you need a break.

Keep up with your hobbies: life can get busy and prevent you from enjoying what you love. Set aside some time every week to peruse your hobbies. To do this, I plan out all my fun activities then arrange my studying and working around the time for hobbies & rest.

Find a role model/mentor: do you look up to someone and want to be more like them? If they’re someone you aspire to be, or someone you want to learn from, tell them that you would love for their mentor.

Surround yourself with people who help you grow and make you happy. Since uni started, I realised that you don’t need to be friends with everybody, and that you can be more selective of who you spend time with.

To help me remember my goals, I have a Pinterest board that I made before the semester started. This could be something that could work for you too!

What other productivity tools or hacks work for you? Lmk in the comments, I would love to learn more from you guys!!

[ghostsray]

danny phantom fans, have yall seen jentry chau vs the underworld? because this show has

a teenage protagonist with spiritual powers who accidentally opened a portal to the underworld and now has to capture every demon that comes out of it

another character who is a nonhuman pretending to human and struggles with fitting in and feeling normal

a scene where the two above characters talk about what a soul is and what it means to be alive while theyre dissecting a frog

another character whos undead and makes death jokes all the time

seems like a show the phandom would love!

[classyelegantpotato]

Part 2: Secret tunnel, through the mountain.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Chapter 1

You try to move but you’re locked in.The more you squirm the tighter it gets ,you struggle in vain.When you finally look up you freeze. There are two burning, ruby-gold eyes glaring in the darkness. You only have a hint of outline of a face .Your hands instinctively graze across what’s against your waist now. It’s cool to the touch, you can feel a slight pulse under its “skin” almost seems like living porcelain. While the up torso appears to be human, but this much is clear.

He’s not human.

“Human,” he says, voice sleek and sharp. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain why you’re dripping blood and rain all over my floor before I decide whether to turn you into a statue… or feed you to my mushroom garden. They could use the nutrients.”

You blink……..

Then whisper, “You’re… real?”

One brow arches, clearly unimpressed. “Stunning deduction. Anything else? Or is that all your little human brain could comprehend ”

Despite your heart pounding you rebuttal “Well, EXCUSE ME ~ It not everyday one gets such warm welcome”

You can feel the figure rolls their eyes, and arms crossing. “Most people don’t walk straight into “abandoned” tower. Are blissfully naïve or simply decided to take up squatting as a hobby”

You open your mouth ,then close “ Sorry, I didn’t see no warning signs anywhere. ‘Beware: creepy hermit. May hog tie you upon entry.’ Honestly, would appreciate it, I could’ve even brought my own rope.

That in response earned you a quick smirk. Barely visible fangs peeking through now. “One would think a tower hidden and secluded in between the mountains would scream don’t want company. How about next time I’ll roll out the red carpet with a warm towel little welcome basket and a kiss on the cheek” he definitely said that last part dripped in distain

You squint at him. “Are you always like this?”

He tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Snarky. Overly dramatic. Rude.”

He just stares.

Then throws his head back and cackles. A full blown villain cackle, echoing through the stone tower.

“Oh, great a mouthy one. Fantastic.” He mutters, mostly to himself, “Absolutely no respect for my kind anymore …”

In a blur, he’s closer ,far to close. Only now do you grasp the entirety of him. Towering and calculated.

“What happened to the ones that would tremble the ones who held their tongues? The ones who screamed and we’re smart enough to run away?”He says it with such intensity , It’s enough to raise the hairs on your body.

He notices, grins,leans closer. Right next to your ear

“You should be more afraid,” he whispers. “You’re standing in the heart of my sanctum. I could erase you with a drop of liquid . Break your bones into meal for my garden. Maybe, I could use you as a nice study for human anatomy. Far too many options but which to choose?”

He moves his coils a bit to takes a look at your bleeding leg , inspecting you like your something to dissect. “It’s clear you bleed easily. So it won’t take much.”

His fingers tug back the edge of your soaked cloak, grazing a bruise with detachment .

“Let’s see…..bruised ribs, sprained ankle ,slightly malnourishe and I smell… herbs :Turmeric, Echinacea, and lavender ?” His grin sharpens,wicked. “Did someone find out you’re a practicing witch …. or a fool who thought to dare think outside your town’s tiny, ignorant bubble?”

You manage to get out. “I’m just a practicing apothecary.” Why does your head feel faint

He clicks his tongue, amused. “That much is obvious. You reek of desperation and homemade remedies.”

“Excuse me?”

He ignores you entirely, snatching the satchel from your side. “Might as well see what you came with.”

You open your mouth to protest, but too late….

He unclasps the bag.

Something leaps.

A gross splat follow as a frog launches out of the bag and smacks square into his face.

Time halts.

You stare.

He blinks, slowly, frog still clinging to his cheek. Here comes a eye twitch

“…Charming,are you sure you’re not a witch and this wasn’t your last victim ” he says, deadpan.

You try not to laugh.

You fail.

Senku wipes frog slime off his cheek with disgust, shooting you a look that says you’re in for it now

“Well, congratulations,” he says, voice dripping with mock admiration. “You’ve officially made the ‘Most Annoying Creature’ list.

The frog now hopping away to who knows where.

You glance at it, then back at Senku. “It’s not that annoying.”

Senku smirks “ Who said I was talking about the frog”

Senku’s grin fades, replaced by something colder. He wants you gone now he’s tired of this back-and-forth.

“You’re bleeding, limping, and reek of desperation,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re not just a nuisance. You’re a liability ,and liabilities? I don’t keep them around. I could snap your neck and save myself the trouble. Though dragging a body is annoying”

You swallow hard, trying to stay unfazed.

“But,” he continues, with wicked amusement “where’s the fun in that?

He unravels and circles you slowly, like a predator waiting for its opening. “I’ll give you a chance to prove your worth ”

“Explain why you’re here and who sent you.”

His voice drops and hisses. “Fail, and the funguses will enjoy a new snack.”

The room seems to feel dense ,weight of his threat ,suffocating. Is it starting to get hot in here even more dizzy?

“So,” he says, folding his arms, “start talking.”

Senku watches you intently as you struggle to hold yourself upright and catch a breath . His fierce gaze softens just a fraction, just a flicker.

“You look worse than I thought,” he mutters, his tone losing some of its edge. “Now hurry, spill it, why are you really here?

You take a shaky breath, and head pounding . Just beginning to explain words barely out before your body betrays you. “ I discovered this place by accident no one sent me. I just want shelter—

Suddenly, your vision swims. Your upper body buckles.Before you can finish, darkness embraces you.

Senku catches you ,effortlessly, his false façade dissipates is instead replaced with eyes narrowing with concern as he holds you steady….. at distance, as if reluctant to get too close.

“Well, that complicates things,” he murmurs, to himself. “I forget how fragile human are,” he admits.

Then, as if shaking off the sympathy, he straightens, voice hardening again. “I’m not your savior.Nor, do I want you here. I’m only helping……. because someone long ago once helped me when they shouldn’t have. Consider this me… paying it forward. Simple cause and effect just don’t make me regret it.”

He glances down at you. “Rest. When you wake, then your out of here”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your eyes flutter open to a strange ceiling it’s looks like someone’s been charting, stars. Lit by the early morning light filtering through a high window that’s been opened. You dared to move, a dull ache in your leg stops you. Glancing down to see a bandage wrapped carefully around your now swollen ankle. You must’ve sprained and cut it pretty badly .

Blinking again, to get rid of the morning haze. You take in your surroundings: a bed, surprisingly almost like it’s been rarely used. Surrounding you are shelves crammed with books, no missing topics from what you seen at a glance . There’s glass vials, jars filled with samples , and lastly scattered notes and sketches covering the walls. This is a lab. Your pulse quickens wait where is—

then you notice him.

He is in the corner of the room, tinkering with something intricate. The morning light catches his scales. Emerald green, fading to pure white at the tip of his massive naga tail that coils behind him. Weirdly enough his hair matches.

You freeze, suddenly recalled the variety of threats. Heart pounding, you try to lie still, hoping he doesn’t notice you’re awake yet. Maybe you can shimmy yourself out the window. Humans can land on their feet too , right?

Without looking up, he speaks, amused: “I know you’re awake, human.”

Your heart leaps out your throat.

He finally turns, meeting your eyes with a knowing smile as if he’s been expecting you to be wake all along.

You swallow hard, your voice coming out a little shaky.

“Uh… good morning. Oh benevolent Mr naga sir��nice nailed it definitely didn’t sound terrified

Senku’s emerald eyes gleam as he straightens up, tail flicking lazily behind him.

“Morning, did you learn some manners in your sleep” he replies smoothly, one finger in his ear, rubbing it. “Surprised you made it through the night. Thought I might have to amputate” he says like a joke…

You shift slightly, wincing at the thought.

“Yeah, well… thanks for not killing me or taking my leg”

He smirks “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Most would have ended up dead by now.”

You nervously glance around wanting to change the topic.

“So… this place is yours?”

“Partly,” he answers, eyes scanning the room. “My workshop. My refuge,free from any annoying pests ….. well till now and right now, your temporary prison.”

…… excuse me did he say prison?

He “ your not going anywhere on that leg for a while just feel grateful that I’m tolerating your existence. Besides you have to pay me back; my labor and supplies aren’t for free. So I’ve decided until you’re all healed up. You’re gonna stay here and help around.”

Your eyes widen, jaw dropping slightly. “Wait, what? You want me to… stay here? Even after you threaten to kill me and feed me to your fungi? “

Senku nods, unfazed by your reaction . “Yep. No escaping the ‘prison’ until you can walk without looking like a scarecrow. Besides it not like you have anywhere to go.

You blink, trying to process it. “I didn’t exactly sign up to be your… apprentice or whatever.”

Senku scoffed“Who said anything about being an apprentice? Not in a hundred years could you begin to start to catch up with my work. Think more like unpaid intern. Contracts are a hassle anyways. Might as well learn something before you hit the road.” He heads towards the door “Since your up i’ll go ahead and pick up some of the books”

As he slither out of the room, you yell for him. “Wait!” you call,annoyed.

He pauses, over his shoulder he says “Save your breath,you’ll get plenty opportunities to thank me later~ “

JERK! You huffed. “least tell me your name!”

This causes him to look over his shoulder and smirks “Senku” then he finally slithers away

Thus begins your reluctant apprenticeship— uh ‘internship’ with Senku.

The first week is spent mostly bedridden, recovering while also cramming. Senku doesn’t go easy on you either. The man quizzes you relentlessly. If you’re going to be any help, even just passing tools or sorting materials, there’s no room for mistakes. Even in your dreams he seems to quiz you. No escape

He addresses you it’s just simply “human” He definitely knows your name. He just chooses not to use it. “Hey, human” is all you get. You think it’s his version of don’t name it or you’ll get attached. So he opted to pretending like your his new house plant.

(Because names make things real, real is messy, and real equals harder to lose later.)

When you’re finally back on your feet, you start helping him more laboriously. A typical day with him is anything but relaxing. He keeps you busy with tasks he considers too tedious or simply beneath him. Which includes: hauling stacks of books, scrubbing down his lab equipment,reorganizing, cleaning the tower, and cooking. Since he flat-out refuses to eat unless necessary. He insists it’s because of his slow metabolism so meals are apparently optional.

Most days, you’re so drained from running around the entire tower that you pass out from sheer exhaustion. No matter where you zonk out;you will always find yourself in bed. Eventually, you find a routine to his madness. You keep waiting for the inevitable moment he kicks you out, but… six months have passed, and you’re still here. So far, the only response you get is that you haven’t finished repaying your so-called “debt.”

In the meantime, he even helps you study medical practices. Either during rare downtime or when he decides you’re unnecessary for his current experiment and banishes you to the library. Of course, there’s always a catch with Senku . You’re expected to write a full report on whatever you learn, or he has you studying the lay of the land, along with its indigenous flora and fauna. Surprisingly, outside this mountain is crawling with natural resources . But also according to senku map he’s marked there also lot of deadly creatures territorial hybrids that room that land. Maybe you should be grateful that you came during a monsoon.

Until the day he deems you clear to go or gets tired of you. Guess you’ll stuck till then.

Senku “What are you spacing out for ?! Quit slacking and get back to studying!”

…. Though at this rate, that you might die first.Before you can ever see the sun.

~~~~

Now, you might be wondering. What could ever made our dear cold-blooded friend have a sudden change of heart over the course of six months?

Was it the fact that your presence brought a much-needed change of pace to the silent tower he called home? That your sass and sharp tongue never hesitated to challenge him, even when you were out matched?

Or maybe… it happened the first night.

After you collapsed, he patched you up. Curiosity got the better of him as he rummaged through your soaked bag. This time a lot more cautious. Once clear from invaders; he could see most of the contents: ruined map, crushed herbs, and a sticky note attached to a pocket mirror stating “You’ve survived worse. Probably. Maybe stoped counting ages ago.” ……Honestly, nothing of interest, then he found your notebook.

After drying it out, he opened it to discover years of observations. Personal experiments with medicinal herbs, and hand-drawn diagrams. Occasionally, scattered between the lines, rants and laments about your life. However, this book here is proof of your perseverance.

Senku had chuckled to himself, a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

“ How exhilarating,” he muttered. “A fledgling scientist in the making. Not bad for someone learning from scraps, trial and error. Not great, but… not bad. Well (name), let’s see how far you’ll go. Try not to disappoint me~”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whew, oh boy ,that was nerve-wracking! I really hope it turned out well and didn’t end up a complete mess. I’m not sure how much more I’ll end up writing, but either way, I truly hope you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for all the kind comments and likes it means a lot. Wishing you all a wonderful, blessed day!

[naomijoestar]

Hi I, I thought of a funny scenario in which Giorno is having an identity crisis about having two biological fathers but Reader is exchanging glances with Mista and Narancia because it's not adding up? How does that work? But the three of them feel like idiots, maybe one of them starts to laugh nervously (hysterics) which prompts the rest of the Bucci Gang to intervene? (It unfolds in more chaos). Sorry if this is so random but sksksks it just popped up in my mind 😭👍 I guess this is more of a platonic scenario but I'll leave that up to you, thank you and sorry for the messy request

Masterlist here <3

This is so silly and I loved writing it, I hope you enjoy!

Giorno’s crisis and funny chaos

It all starts with Giorno thoughtfully pacing the room. “It’s just…sometimes I wonder who I am. I mean, biologically speaking, I have two fathers. DIO, who is technically Jonathan Joestar, and…well, biologically that doesn’t make sense.”

You glance at Mista, who’s frowning and squinting like he’s trying to do algebra in his head. Narancia leans toward you, whispering, “Does Giorno mean, like…two guys? How does that work? Like, scientifically?”

Mista, clearly overthinking it, mutters under his breath, “Maybe it’s like…a frog thing. You know, like how some frogs can—”

You interrupt, “Mista, that’s not how human biology works.”

Narancia squints at Giorno, then looks at you and Mista. “Wait, are we saying Giorno is a frog now?”

The three of you exchange increasingly baffled glances while Giorno’s lamentations about identity continue in the background. Then, out of nowhere, Mista lets out a nervous chuckle

You side eye him, confused. But then Narancia starts giggling too, more out of secondhand awkwardness than anything else. Your lips twitch—you’re trying so hard to keep it together, but the absurdity of the situation is getting to you

The giggles snowball into full-blown hysterics. Mista is doubled over, tears streaming down his face as he wheezes, “Two dads…how?!” Narancia is laughing so hard he’s gasping for air, slapping the nearest table for support

Giorno pauses mid-monologue, turning to the three of you with a mix of confusion and mild offense. “I don’t see what’s so funny about my existential dilemma.”

Before you can explain (not that you’d know how), Bruno steps in, visibly concerned. “What’s going on here?”

“Giorno has two dads!” Narancia blurts out between laughs, gesturing wildly toward Giorno

“We know,” Fugo says, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s already done with this conversation

“Do we, though?!” Mista exclaims, throwing his hands up. “Do we really understand it?!”

At this point, Abbacchio chimes in with a groan, “If I have to listen to another word about Giorno’s parentage, I’m going to walk into the ocean.”

Trish, sipping her drink, raises an eyebrow. “Honestly, I always assumed it was just…Joestar weirdness. Why are we dissecting this now?”

Giorno, still frustrated, tries to bring the conversation back to his identity crisis, but his voice is drowned out by Mista and Narancia arguing over whether frogs or seahorses are a better analogy for Giorno’s situation

And you? You’re stuck in the middle, trying (and failing) to mediate while also laughing uncontrollably because, really, how did it come to this?

If you’d like anything changed or added, you can always message me and I’ll fix it!

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

[sugarpasteltmnt]

insane Rise-influenced-redesign-character-concept no one asked for:

punk college-kid conservation/environmental activist gang "The Punk Frogs"

(CW: eye strain, flashing gif) good evening who wants to hear the silliest and baseless could-have-been-Rise character concept

I was thinking about the way Rise was SO fun and unique because it did a lot of things differently than past TMNT iterations. Not only re-designing the turtles and the world in bold ways, but also other characters as well. Particularly Stockman going to Stockboy, and how the Purple Dragons were a gang of delinquent tech-kids-- a VAST difference in the 2003 Purple Dragon Gang of meat-head-thugs who followed Shredder.

And like most Rise fans I wish we could have gotten more, or see other familiar characters in a new and quirky way.

but then i remembered the '87 Punk Frogs

and while the original Punk Frogs were mutants created by Shredder to fight the turtles, they were sweet beans with chill personalities and beach-bum vibes. Given how unconventional Rise got with past characters-- and inspired by the way Rise-April was a huge environmentalist... i thought it would be really, really fun. If the Punk Frogs weren't even frogs at all. But instead, a band of punks with hearts of gold.

calling themselves the Punk Frogs because they all banded together when they had to dissect frogs in high school but thought that was cruel, I love to think that the "Punk Frogs" WERE punk-- because they wanted to beat the system that impacted conservation and the environment. (Yes this is my silly backstory-- but then again, TMNT is all about the silliness.) Perhaps even making friends with April, especially with the way she broke into a lab to get proof of dangerous chemical use at the start of the movie.

The Rise turtles don't seem to have much of an issue being mutants among humans compared to other TMNT iterations, but I still think it would have been fun if the boys had made more human friends... who knew they were mutants. I could 100% see them getting up to some sketchy lengths to hinder big corporations (a lot like April would lol) and there would have HAD to been a time they ran into a mutant or yokai being experimented on. Heck, maybe it's even Mondo Gekko who later becomes a member of their group. (And perhaps, with this rout, become a huge pain for Bishop if that arc had ever made it to Rise.)

That being said, the boys having another friend group (or even a sub-plot of finding other mutants) could have been so fun. Especially if the Punk Frogs weren't above breaking in an entering and doing some fighting to get their job done. (A potentially awesome way to get more amazing Rise-style fighting animation but also tackle the topic of "there's a right and wrong way to do things, even in the name of good")

I could keep going on about this (as well as past characters i think would have been fun to re-cast as these college punk kids) but i won't continue to torment you with my insane brainworms lol. Thanks for coming to my turtle ted talk

[bitethedustfools]

TWST Story idea (9)

Warning: inhumane treatment and view, abuse, human trafficking, obsession.

Twisted Wonderland, where non-magical people do not exist.

Imagine how NRC looked upon Yuu, the first non-magical human to ever exist. It was like seeing an exotic animal, the only one of its kind.

Yuu is not a being with a thinking mind, but an animal with no brain in the eyes of Twisted Wonderland. Seeing how Yuu reacts to the world with barely any knowledge only cements this fact.

Prefect? What a joke. Yuu is the Headmaster and the Housewardens' pet.

Yuu'll do the errands, Yuu'll be the scapegoat for every blame, a doll to be dressed and shown off, a frog to be dissected, a plushie to be cuddled and torn apart, a lion in a circus, doing tricks it abhors by the ringmaster.

Yuu can scream and threaten and hurt them and risk dying, but it's alright, Yuu are their beloved pet. It's nothing but a mild tantrum. Yuu will calm down soon anyway. It's always like that, and if not, a few rough handlings will do the trick. If the most vicious, unruly dogs can learn to behave and be obedient, so can Yuu.

Even if Yuu had become the most ugliest thing molded by their hands, Yuu will still be loved. Isn't that wonderful?

The others caught wind of this. The Royal Sword Academy wanted to see this non-magical thing, amazed and then astounded at their condition that is akin to an abused and leashed dog. Their kind and gentle hearts could never bear to see Yuu in such situation.

They wanted to sweep Yuu off their feet, ride on a white horse like a knight in shining armor, and place them in RSA where they will watch over Yuu and take care of their needs.

Rollo Flamm of the Noble Bell College, who dreamt that the world will be better without magic, began to show interest, obsessively so. It grew worse when he saw the state Yuu is in, proving that magic is indeed evil, and thus, bringing his hatred for magic to further heights.

He would find ways to meet, observe, and transfer Yuu to their college under the guise of 'justice'.

The Playful Land would prepare for the arrival of a new puppet. They'll put a stage for Yuu to stand on, dress them prettily, and handle them gently like precious goods. The spotlight is on Yuu, smile. Yuu will–is loved. The money bid on them will be the proof.

Fellow Honest stood back, Gidel hidden behind him. He would save Yuu, but at what cost? He couldn't save himself nor Gidel from this place.

It does not stop there. It spreads, people around the world would flock to NRC to see this precious, unique little thing by the name of Yuu.

Royalties and those who have money wanted to buy or demanded them to show up so they can see Yuu up close. Reporters would barged NRC daily and so on.

Getting kidnapped, harassed and no privacy is part of the norm.

How would Yuu ever break free and return home?

[fakeusernamelol]

I'm thinking about the "Ford performing an incredibly botched top surgery on Stan" again because I'm a sucker for self surgery even though I know nothing about actual surgeries. It got me wondering how plausible it is, with Ford swiping a scalpel from school's biology lab that they used to dissect frogs or something. The anesthesia being just getting Stan black out drunk. All done on a water bed (cuz it's easier to clean up) with a extremely rudimentary liposuction machine that Ford built himself. Ford trying so fucking hard to steel himself as if he's not about to perform surgery on Stan when all the knowledge he had was from an anatomy textbook that he borrowed from the library, all while doing it in a hardly sterile room. It's a miracle that Stan didn't die from septic shock

M HELLO MOOTIE SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU HERE ONCE AGAIN and even happier that you liked that idea i had a while ago 😈😈😈💓💖💓💖

I really love this headcanon of ford thinking he can do even more than he is able too, he was a teen with an unbridled ego product of growing up with clear favoritism due to his achievements by his teachers and his father, stanford was told to be a genius but in a teenager mind having a thought so deep into his brain could lead to an dangerous ambition by wanting to prove he was that genius people said he was or even beyond that..

So, when he heard his brother complain from time to time about how uncomfortable the bandages he used to bind his chest were, he immediately thought that he could be able to help his dear brother problem. He has read various medical magazines and human biology books, Performing a surgery to Stanley at home didn't sound like something really difficult so he promised him he would do it! And even if stan wasn't really sure if it was a good idea in his deep down, Ford seemed so confident about that and well, it was his brother, he knew better than him and wouldn't make anything bad to him so he finally accepted to continued with the procedure.

He borrow some things from his dissection practices, towels from the kitchen, the first aid kit from the pawn shop, the gloves mom used to clean the dishes along with the disinfectant products to clean the scalpel and finally a bottle of fine wine from the collection his father kept in his office as an homemade anesthesia (only thing i would change is that i dont think they would own a water bed more when at the time they were such a new and expensive thing for a middle class family lol so i do think their surgery room would be the bathtub one day while his parents where out of home lol)

Ford prepared the bathtub along the utensils trying to get them as sterilized as possible while also reviewing once again the anatomy book he brought as a guide while Stan drank the bottle of wine to the bottom till get black out. When Stan was finally unconscious ford was ready to start with the surgery...

In order to perform a medical procedure you must have studies and a degree in it. Ford learned it while he was calling 911 almost crying of fear while trying to stop the hemorrhage from Stan's chest that along with the mix of alcohol in his body was getting worsened with every minute it passed. Luckily for both of them stan didn't die but he did end up in the hospital for a few weeks with their parents very angry with stan because they thought he had done it to himself while Ford was incredibly regretful for almost killing his brother to prove a point to himself. Good thing? The top surgery was a success! Well, i mean Stan now had a ugly big scar all over his chest and was being medicated for the not-so-unexpected infection he ended up with, but at least he could go out without a shirt now!! and that's got Ford being forgiven by stan lol

[freak-attorney]

Do you have any school related (highschool and/or college) related AA headcanons? I'm not sure how schooling worked exactly for Mia, Maya, and Pearl given where they lived, so I dunno. Mainly Phoenix, Edgeworth, Franziska and Gumshoe

Ace Attorney HS/Uni Headcanons!

(I admittedly haven't thought about this much before but I'm happy to share!)

Phoenix Wright

High School

Really good at creative writing

Good at the humanities in general

Barely passed chemistry (started a fire in the lab and had to let his partner take over for the rest of the year)

Best friends with his Language Arts teacher

Got detention for being late to class too much

Did NOT pass the Presidential Fitness Test (he couldn't do a pull up)

On a first name basis with the lunch ladies

Applied to maybe 3 colleges

He was a band kid for sure... probably played the clarinet

University/College

Was really good friends with his roommate but they lost touch once he went to law school

Not great at pottery but still made little projects to give to his friends whenever he took a class

Rushed a few fraternities (he didn't get a bid to any of them)

Didn't learn how to talk to girls until Dahlia/Iris

Took a few philosophy classes and yapped in every discussion

Joined a debate club.. he lost most of the time but it made him want to get better!

Was very much oblivious to every girl that ever attempted to flirt with him

Had a group of 3-4 friends that he ate lunch with at the same time everyday

Got super wasted at a party and ended up in the front yard of a frat house off campus

Sweatpants + a hoodie were his go to fits

Miles Edgeworth

High School

Did not get along with many others

Went to public school up until high school where he went to a fancy private school

HATED group projects (asked the teachers if he could just do it himself)

It still haunts him that he got a "B" in Physics

Definitely took APUSH/any AP class he could

Did dual enrollment (completed his Associates)

Helped with the theatre program but only as part of the crew (probably stage manager or lead tech)

Valedictorian

Grade "A" instigator (he started a few fights)

Perfect attendance

Headphones in ALL THE TIME

Applied to at least 30 colleges

Scarily good at dodgeball whenever they played in phys ed

Threw up when they had to do frog dissections

College/University

Refused one of his top choices due to their communal showers

Never spoke a word to his roommate

Became a fan of women's rugby (introduced Franzi to it)

Thought Greek life was a waste of time and never even thought about rushing

Didn't go to a single party

Practically lived in the library

Took a class that introduced him to digital art and he really liked it (he didn't have time to continue it once the class ended)

Franziska von Karma

High School

Well-liked or feared?? Depends on who you ask

Fancy private schools her entire life. High school was no different.

Went through a phase of growing out her bangs but hated it

Full face of makeup every. single. day.

Straight A's (Papa would NOT be happy with anything less)

Extremely competitive with EVERYTHING (even the pacer test)

Excelled in the hard sciences but still went into law

She was the teacher's pet but no one dared to call her on it

Applied to every college she could find

Color coordinated notes for each class

Turned in assignments weeks before they were due

Dual enrollment/AP/IB is a given

She was in chorus (Alto)

Used a leather crossbody in place of a normal backpack

Valedictorian but she doesn't see it as a "real" achievement

College/University

Heavily involved with research

Knew her major the moment she applied (probably before then)

President of the debate team

Requested to not have a roommate

On the women's rugby team

Made out with one of the members of said rugby team and was too embarrassed afterwards to show up to practice for the next week (this one is so specific sorry)

Dressed well for class no matter how early

But she preferred late classes

Took many walks around campus at night

Got invited to Greek life formals (they were very bluntly turned down)

Overpacked for the school year every single time

Started the knitting club

Took ochem "for fun"

Godot/Diego

High School

Looked like a jock stereotype

Bullied the bullies

Public school all the way man

Kept photos of all his friends in his locker

On the track & field team (pole vaulting was his favorite)

Did swimming for a year (butterfly is his stroke)

Had several girlfriends before buckling down senior year and focusing on studying

Failed History

Took Spanish for his foreign language (he already knew it)

Applied to any college where he could get a scholarship

College/University

Involved in EVERYTHING

Didn't get along well with his roommate (Diego's side of the room was always messy)

Switched his major several times (started with music, then bio, then landed on polysci)

Definitely a tour guide

Continued playing sports throughout uni (including intramurals)

Joined 2 frats

Volunteered a lot (service distinction)

Got a job at a coffee shop near campus and that's where it all began...

Started growing out his facial hair sophomore year

Dick Gumshoe

High School

Not the smartest guy, but probably the nicest

Got along with everyone no problem

Found ways to skip phys ed

Friends with the nurse (very clumsy)

Excelled in trigonometry but not much else

Went to all the football games

Probably signed up to be the mascot

Did just enough to pass his classes

Fell asleep during class a lot

The chatty guy on the bus

Unintentional class clown

Spoke up in class a lot even if he was wrong

College/University

Only got into one college... but it was the one he really wanted!

Didn't do well in core classes but once he got to things he was interested in it was practically straight A's

Considered being a teacher for a long time but decided on detective

Signed up for a philosophy class but dropped it

Super interested in entomology

Joined club basketball (he wasn't super good but he had fun)

Kept the same roommate for all 4 years and still talks to him from time to time

Pretty well known on campus ("oh you mean the big, loud guy with the green jacket?")

Started wearing his iconic jacket at this time

Always wore jeans no matter the weather

Went to a few parties even though it's not his scene (some friends wanted him to go with them)

Received surprise bids from some fraternities but he declined

That's what I have for now! I hope you enjoyed, anon!!! I added Godot because I love him 🙂‍↕️

(feel free to request any other headcanons, I love making them! Other fandoms I'm in include Danganronpa (only played THH), Banana Fish, Haikyuu, Free, and Kakegurui!)

[merakiui]

Mera, so is horsegirl darling like a centaur or is this a Uma Musume type situation? I want to draw fanart but don't know what idea to go with.

I usually imagine horsegirl being more similar to a faun! Part human, part horse and stands on two legs with hooves instead of four like a centaur would. I described the vision a bit more in this fic with a horsegirl darling. :D

But it can also be completely up to your own interpretation and imagination!! I think all ideas and versions of a horsegirl darling are wonderful hehe. <3 if you ever do draw fanart, I would love to see it!!!! Horsegirl is so cute……. equestrian club deserves a cutie like her to dote on.

Science club can have an animal girl based on the common animals they use for dissection……… something something a lovable pig-girl with Trey and Rook,,, or even frog girl….. RAT GIRL. Many thoughts!!! OTL

[m3lodramacticm3dic]

(long post under the cut)

I want nothing more than to perform a vivisection right now. to have someone strapped down to a table and dissect them like those frogs in school science labs.

I want to have enough drugs in your system to barley feel it, i want you awake. Id set up a camera n have it play on a tv so you can watch without the discomfort of trying to look down; i want you to see every single thing im doing to you.

Id give you kisses as i cut you open and peel your skin back. I just need a bit of cash, surely you understand why im doing this, its nothing personal i promise!!!

Im only taking what i need, the human body can survive while missing quite a few organs!! I mean surely you didnt think i was going to kill you right?

finding people to buy organs is a lengthy process!! i cant risk letting them rot while waiting. I plan on keeping you alive for a long time. dont worry though!! im not just going to keep you cut open, im not THAT cruel.

After i get the parts that i need out of you Ill stitch you back up and make sure to make it nice and clean while the drugs wear off, ill have to keep you locked away though; the last thing id want is for you to even think about running away.

Once i get the money from selling your organs ill be sure to spoil you rotten as compensation; youll have everything you could ever want or need. Id be your own personal nurse, there to give you everything. anything.

I want you to love your new home; i want you to love me. I can provide you with everything!! Id be the perfect husband for you. all you need to do is get cut open every once in a while.

the last thing id want to do is kill you:( sure, your heart and brain would catch a high price if i sold them, but id much rather keep you alive. you cant even begin to imagine how lonely it gets killing everyone i bring in.

please just let me have this, let me have you.

[hollypop]

What are your thoughts on Cassian? I haven’t read ACOSF so take it as a general question including fanon 🤔

So this is my main account (compared to my art blog @flat-neines ), but I'm not the biggest fan of cassian.

When I read acotar initially, I found him annoying and then acosf kinda just made him completely irredeemable in my eyes.

I am very pro human for acotar so cassian (and the entire nc really) were iffy for me when they barged into the Archeron manor, ate their food, demanded assistance all while berating nesta for not parenting feyre which is where it started. Then there was the wings & embers bonus chapter where we got fun little tidbits where it was (unintentionally) implied that he doesn't actually care about azriel and mor as friends, and that he enjoys terrorizing people minding their own business. Which was definitely a choice. (Especially in a non white character)

And then that whole virginity check in said bonus chapter, made me go "Oh, you're one of THOSE assholes." So. Yeah.

I also tend to view fandom through a canon adjacent, meta reading lens, so while I don't mind fanon!cassian and hc about him, I don't really....like the fanon. To clarify, I don't find fanon!cassian particularly interesting and I'd rather spend time dissecting his canon self like one of those frogs in a biology lab, using that for material instead. (Failmarriage au ftw)

I think that sums it up.

[l-1-z-a]

📺🧬 Why is the biology major crazy in The Sims 2? 🧬

The Sims 2 University gave us some of the most unhinged class names ever, and today, we’re diving into the Biology major to see just how weird they get! Maxis really went all out with these. Were they secretly trolling us or is this an inside to sims biology? 🧬

In this video from March 22, 2025, blogger Reese presents a humorous analysis of the quirky and amusing course names for the Biology major in The Sims 2 University expansion pack. The author delves into each course, explaining the hidden jokes and scientific references that the game developers included in the titles. The video takes viewers on an entertaining journey through all four years of a Sim biologist’s education and also analyzes the skills required to earn this degree.

Freshman Year Courses

Lab Techniques 1: Poking at things with tweezers

The first course for Biology students focuses on basic laboratory skills. The title is a humorous nod to the early stages of lab work, where students are just getting familiar with tools like tongs or tweezers. The name plays on the idea of beginners clumsily handling lab equipment, as if they’re just “poking” at samples without a clear understanding of the process.

Beginning Dissection: Why the frog hates you

The second freshman-year course continues the joke but applies it to the classic animal dissection exercises. The title humorously addresses the discomfort many students feel during their first dissection experience, presenting it from the frog’s perspective as if it’s aware of what’s happening and is annoyed by it.

Sophomore Year Courses

Enzymes: Ase up your life

This course title is a playful pun based on the fact that enzyme names often end in “-ase” (e.g., amylase, lactase). The name parodies the phrase “spice of life” and is a nod to the Spice Girls’ song. It also serves as a metaphor for how enzymes “spice up” biochemical reactions, much like how spices enhance dishes.

The Lysozome: Everybody's favorite trash eater

This course title humorously describes the function of lysosomes in the cell. Lysosomes contain digestive enzymes that break down waste materials, cellular debris, and even invading pathogens. The game developers presented this complex biological process in a fun way, comparing lysosomes to garbage collectors enthusiastically consuming cellular waste.

Junior Year Courses

Inhibitor Molecules: Nature's bureaucrats

This course draws a witty parallel between inhibitor molecules in biochemistry and bureaucrats in organizations. Just as bureaucrats stereotypically slow down processes with rules and formalities, inhibitors slow down or block biochemical reactions. This analogy makes a complex scientific concept more accessible and amusing.

Borborygmic digestion

The title of this course references the scientific term “borborygmus,” which describes the rumbling and gurgling sounds produced by the stomach and intestines during digestion. By using this scientific-sounding yet funny term, the game adds academic flair to the mundane process of stomach growling. It might also be a playful comment on how players often forget to feed their Sims.

Senior Year Courses

Xenobiology: Who's probing who NOW?

This course focuses on xenobiology—the study of potential extraterrestrial biology. The title “Who’s Studying Whom” is a joke referencing the common sci-fi trope of aliens abducting humans for experiments. It’s also a nod to the game’s mechanics, where aliens can abduct male Sims, who may then become pregnant.

Senior Thesis: The Laganaphyllis Simnovorii

The final course involves a thesis on the “cow plant”—a unique creature from The Sims universe. The scientific name of the plant is dissected in the video: “camivoria” means “carnivorous,” while “simnorii” can be interpreted as “Sim-eating.” This is a reference to the cow plant’s ability to actually eat Sims in the game.

Skills Required for a Biology Degree

To earn a Biology degree, Sims need to develop specific skills, each of which is justified from a scientific perspective:

Mechanical (4 points)—Necessary for working with complex lab equipment like microscopes, centrifuges, and incubators.

Body (4 points)—May reflect the physical demands of fieldwork, aspects of human biology studies, or the stamina required for long lab sessions.

Logic (5 points)—The most important skill for a biologist, reflecting the need for scientific thinking, hypothesis testing, and data analysis.

Cleaning (4 points)—A justified skill, given the importance of maintaining a sterile environment in biological labs, especially in microbiology, genetics, and medical research.

[lovekabaneri]

B-list move villain Shockwave

I have read a lot on the TF Mecha AU from @keferon and other authors and it is very awesome and addicting to read through all the stories and ideas. Shockwave is badass, I admit it, he's also OP and very intimidating. I love that but as good as Shockwave is like that, let me share my idea: a silly comic book mad scientist Shockwave! Kind of like Doc Oc from Spiderman's old comics or Dr. Membrane from Invader Zim.

I imagined him as an amalgamation of human, machine and alien tech that only listens to the government because they are his enablers and he doesn't have to waste time dealing with the law anymore. Imagine he starts as an ordinary-looking guy that was a genius child but his parents completely ignored that along with straight As, he also liked to examine roadkill, cut up small animals and even hook up dead frogs and electrocuting them to see them move. So, he is a mad genius with no morals and qualms about unethical experimentation. He's even grafted himself with alien tech!

Imagine this absolute unit of a man - over 2 meters tall with all the augmentations on his body. Robot legs that go *thud* with each step, robotic arms, one bigger and looking deadly, cables sticking out of ports on his back and connecting to the larger arm. A large, high-tech yellow, glowing safety visor that looks like one huge eye and no one knows whether it is removable or he completely replaced his eyes with. The sides of his head are shaved because there are antennae sticking straight out of his skull. Antennae he uses to send signals directly from his brain and even control a small army of purple robots that do his bidding and are also his eyes around the facility. He is very intimidating, yet his personality is silly!

As cool as evil, cruel Shockwave can be, the goofy villain Shockwave is peak. He could be standing there, in the corner, looking menacingly! I did take inspiration from the comics. I forgot which one exactly, but I read a scene where the Decepticons end up on the bottom of the sea after they crash on Earth. Shockwave and Soundwave go out and see all the fish and even whales swimming around. They are both amazed by the sight and I kid you not, Shockwave's reaction was literally: "This is so beautiful. This place is full of life!" places a servo on Soundwave's shoulder "I can't wait to plunder all of it and use it for my research!" eager one-eyed look and Soundwave just looked at him without a word, probably thinking 'WTF?! We woke up not even an hour ago, man!'

He could be totally unhinged and everyone would be terrified because no one would know what he could do next. Imagine Shockwave, going out and seeing the beautiful sunrise and newly slain aliens from the last attack. Going "Ah, what a beautiful sight! The perfect weather to cut up some aliens and use their flesh and blood to further my research!" while thanking a slurp from his morning coffee, preferably from a funny mug with some math/biology joke "For humanity, I mean." He says as an afterthought to a new intern that's looking at him with a very disturbed expression. If he's regular cruel and evil, they would know how to act, if he's goofy evil, they'd be scared to be near him in case he takes interest in you out of nowhere! He has a collection of giant fluffy slippers he puts on his metal legs and they make a *squeak* noise when he walks through his apartment, he sleeps in roadkill/dissection themed nightgowns or anatomically accurate organ shirts. He has a collection of science pun mugs he got from his minion as gifts.

Oh, he also has an Igor, well...sort of, it's just an intern that got in the field because his father is rich, but the intern is dumb, spoiled rich kid but he's surprisingly good at pulling levers dramatically!

"Pull the lever, Kevin!" - Shockwave says, staying way out of the potential blast radius in case something goes horribly wrong and the alien head he hooked up to the machine decides to explode or bite something.

Kevin has no forward thinking, so he's very often just standing there in the splash zone when something blows up. Surprisingly, he's the only intern that lasted long enough under Shockwave to become his official henchman- I mean assistant. He calls him 'Master Shockwave' sometimes. No one likes Kevin, so they just leave him with the mad scientist, yet Kevin always survives and he's so unfit for experiments and so dumb that Shockwave doesn't even want him as a test subject.

And that's what makes 'silly villain Shockwave' scarier, because he could be just walking casually, tapping at some buttons on his robotic arm's holo screen, then he perks up, beelines to an unsuspecting recruit. He startles the heck out of them and goes "What do you think about being featured in my new research papers? I just looked through your medical results and your I-bC levels are just perfect!". And before anybody knows, that recruit has been 'reassigned' and no one know if it will be lucky or not to see him again. Some of the more religious staff carry rosaries and crosses to which they pray whenever Shockwave passes by without an issue.