#it's honestly the last two that are questionable

[liyahin4k]

Secrets

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: hiding a pregnancy is as easy as you two thought.

You knew Hiding your pregnancy wasn’t going to be as easy due to your style. That what makes you you,thats what your fans know you for,and you wouldn’t call yourself a person that drinks a lot but every now and then you’ll have some especially when you having a night out.

That what you’re fans loved about you,they all ways ask you about your style some even try and copy it.

(her style)

Some of your fans have been catching on and noticed how you would wear more baggy sweaters, or shirts you were only three months but your stomach was getting noticeable.

They also noticed how you weren’t around as much like on live whenever ice,Paige,kk ever went live you were there goofing around with them but now your barely there. Like on ice’s last live you were only there when Paige called you to talk to kk about what happened and after kk got happy again you left.

(The live)

You saw that kk was a little calmer then before so you got ready to leave since you were tired due to the little one sucking the life out of you.

“I’m gonna go” whispered to Paige so no one would hear you “why” she asked concerned “because your child is sucking the life out of me, I’m exhausted,” you told her before giving her a kiss and going to hug everyone goodbye.

You hugged everyone then it was kk’s turn her being extra she picked you up as a thank you, without even noticing your hand shoot to your stomach. “Kk,put my down” you said quickly she did as told with wide eyes “I forgot” she whispered

“Its fine” you told her with a small smile, you left at night, not knowing the live saw what happened so the next morning you woke up so your fans asking questions.

���

(latest live)

Kk had called you in to share some of her cookies,you walked and stood next to kk the live comments filled up with hi y/n,wifeyy, or what happened last live.

As kk cut the cookies Paige walked up behind you wrapping her arms around your stomach rubbing it gently something not going unnoticed by everyone,kk passed you the cookie, and you smelt it. You shook your head in discussed not liking the smell “what kind is this” you asked kk looked at it “ honestly I’m not even know. I just know it looks good so I got it” she answered laughing “ well whatever it is does it doesn’t smell good” reply to giving it back to her.

Everyone in the live caught onto that you were never the person to take down food so seeing you smell the cookie and not take, it brought up some suspicions.

They also knew how you hate fish so when pictures were taken of you and Paige out for dinner eating fish they were all shocked.

You’re not gonna lie you’re eating habits did change stuff you wouldn’t eat you started eating and you were nauseous as hell so that didn’t help with trying to hide the pregnancy.

The last basketball game you and Paige went together you weren’t feeling so good so there were some pictures taken of you constantly getting up to go to the bathroom.

By then everyone had came up with the conclusion that you were pregnant even though you and Paige haven’t announced it yet but at this point, everyone kinda already knows.

[cottoncandyswisherz]

birthday gyal

dom!matt x fwb!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, choking, love confession

-

the only thing worse than having your 21st birthday during the spring semester, was having your 21st birthday be on a wednesday during the spring semester.

as of may 8th 2024, y/n was officially of legal drinking age and she couldn't even go get shit-faced because she had a lecture the next morning. so instead of partying with her besties, she was at home in her robe, reading 'the mastery of love', while drinking her first legal acholic beverage, twisted tea. 

obviously it wasn't what she wanted to be doing, but she knew that waiting until friday to go out was her best option because she knew she would need 2 days to recover from all the debauchery she intended to partake in. 

so there she was, sulking, reading, sipping. whichever one you prefer honestly. 

that didn't last long though. 

matt <3

happy birthday sweetheart

thanks matt

come get your gifts

HOL AWWNNN YOU GOT ME A GIFT FR??

what kind of friend would i be if i didnt get you a birthday gift?

IM FINNA GET THAT GDAY DICKKKKK

youre insane.

and this is why y/n loved matt. he gave her girlfriend treatment without forcing her to be his girlfriend. 

they were basically dating. they took each other out, they only fucked each each other, the slept at the others house often. 

but the title. the title of girlfriend and boyfriend is what fucked them up. it came with so much pressure. and these two fools hated pressure as much as republicans hate the BLM movement. so they did things the way they wanted. 

according to y/n and matt, they were friends. who fucked on a consistent basis.

it's not weird unless you make it weird. 

slipping on her black bralette, sweats, shoes and jewelry y/n made her way out of her apartment and into her car. on her way to the triplets house, she wondered what matt had in store for her. 

she got her answer as soon as she opened the door to his house.

in no way, shape, or form was matt a grand gestures type of guy. but when he did do something extensive, he believed the glory was in the little things so he made it a point to remember y/n current song obsessions, forming a playlist that played lightly through the house. there was purple rose petals sprinkled in a trail from the front door to matts bedroom door.

when she opened said door, her eyes fluttered shut at the sight before her. matt stood with in front of his bed with a bottle of tequila blanco. (AND THAT DAMN DON JULIO MAKE ME A FOOL FOR YEEEWWW) behind him, on his bed was an assortment of gift bags and amazon packages. 

"happy birthday y/n." matt said, walking up to her and wrapping her in a comforting hug. 

y/n shed a few thug tears as she hugged him back and planted a fat smooch on his lips. "thank you so much MWAH" she planted another kiss on his lips and began to open her gifts. 

jewelry with her sun, moon and rising signs. a melanie tee and a lana poster for her room

by the time y/n was done opening her gifts, she was just one giant smile. all her toofs were on display and she wasn't even embarrassed because she was utterly happy.

she pounced on matt and gave him a hug with all the strength her body could muster. she kissed all over his face and thanked him like he'd just bought her dream car rather than a few birthday gifts.

"okay okay okay! i love you too but i need air to breathe!" he said in attempt to get her to calm down.

y/n reluctantly released the boy and hopped off the bed to grab the bottle and pour the two of them a shot. they toasted to her birthday and downed the shot.

sitting back down, y/n leaned her head on the headboard and placed her feet on matts lap because he was across from her on the mattress.

"do i get a birthday lap dance now?" y/n asked, cackling at the look on matts face.

after letting out a few dry laughs, matt answered her question. "no, but i do have one more gift for you." he pulled her closer to him by her ankles, causing her head to hit the pillows.

y/n's pant magically disappear along with her panties.

matt moves one to beside her head and leans down to trap her mouth with his. as she leans forward, the tip of his cock pushes against he entrance.

with his other hand, he circles the front of her neck. "i'll never hurt you, y/n." he kisses her cheek. "but i'll choke you a little. if that's what you want."

y/n's eyes widen and her lips part. matt feels her not before she does. and then he squeezes, knowing exactly where to press. y/n's eyes flutter shut.

her body shifts under him. her hips try to lift to take him inside him. but he doesn't let her. he just squeezes a little harder. her eyes open and her hands reach up to grab at his arm, not to push him away but to cling to him.

she looks up at him with those beautiful eyes and her body twitches. once.

matts leaking all over her slit. so fucking ready to bust. but he needs her with him. he needs her to feel as feral as he does.

but when her fingers dig into his arm and she twitches a second time, he releases his hold on her neck and slams his entire length inside her.

y/n's orgasm is instant. an implosion. her arms wrap around matt, clutching him.

and he's lost. he's surrounded by her heat, and he's fucking lost in it. he ruts her into the mattress, slamming his hips into hers as she whines and whimpers beneath him. feeling her pussy grip to keep him inside her each time he moves. feeling her breath on his neck with each thrust forward.

to him, she's everything.

he pulls free from her body, grabbing her by her hips. he flips her into her stomach.

he doesn't give her time to catch her breath. he rips her bralette, yanks her hips up, and shoves into her from behind.

her orgasm is still trembling through her body, but it's not enough.

reaching forward, he grips the front of her neck again and pulls her until she's upright on he knees before him.

her tits bounce every time his hips slam against her ass and its the best fucking thing he's ever seen.

he tightens his hold on her neck again, a little tighter than last time. because this time, he's closer.

he's so much closer to filling her with his seed, and he needs her to milk it out of him.

he places his mouth at her ear and slides his other hand down to belly to her slick clit.

"i'n gonna cum inside you, y/n. i'm gonna cum so deep inside you it'll be dripping out of you for fucking days." he rubs his fingers in circles around her bundle of nerves. "but i need you to cum first. so grab those titties for me. show me that you love it."

y/n doesn't even hesitate. her hands fly up to her chest and her fingers pinch and pull at her nipples.

her pussy starts to clench around matt, who tries to control his movements.

in. out. in. out.

but then her eyes start to roll back and he presses harder against her clit. and she cums.

he releases her throat and the sound of her ragged inhale is the last push he needs before his balls squeeze and he's unloading inside her.

he groans her name as he fills her with his release. "i love you. so fucking much. i fucking love you."

for the final pulse of his cock, he shoves himself as deep as he can get, the thrust tipping them forward.

he rolls off her and they lie there, silent. the only sounds heard, were the sounds of their heavy breathing.

he said he loves her. he knows he did. she knows he did.

did he mean it? or was that a post nut confession that he didn't mean to say?

but y/n came to the conclusion that whether he meant it or not, she loved him. and she wasn't scared to say it.

so she reaches over to where matt was laying with his hand behind his head and grabbed his face so he was looking at her.

"i love you."

and just like that, matt's world stopped.

he grabbed her hand and held it in his. "be my girlfriend." he spoke out. "i wanna tell everyone that breathes in my direction that y/n y/l/n is my girlfriend. i want everyone to know i'm yours. because i am. yours. so be mine."

she let out a laugh and leaned over, kissing his jaw. "matt. i was yours the first time we kissed."

niyah speaks this is for lilly bae.

remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and by mommy i mean me)

taglist: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @mattssluttygf @zniyadgaf

[atlabeth]

table thief

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer's routine, thoughts, and plans are thrown off by a girl he meets at his favorite cafe --- not necessarily in that order.

a/n: i dont know where this came from but uh. enjoy this lil fluffy blurb! ill get to those 3k requests sometime. set during spence's time at caltech

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): none, all fluff

Spencer’s mind is a whirlwind of information while he stands in line at his usual coffee shop, trying to keep everything in order as he goes over everything he needs to get done. It’s a particularly busy afternoon for him, hence his coming here directly after class instead of stopping by his dorm. 

There’s a research paper for him to finish, office hours to make for his most elusive professor to get some questions answered—why she only has them open for two hours on Wednesdays, Spencer has no idea—a thousand papers to grade for the class he’s a TA for, and naturally, a coffee to give him the energy for the rest of what is going to be a long night. 

Of course, he knows he should probably try and do it without caffeine—it’s one of the most popular drugs in the world, and most people live in ignorance of their obvious addiction to it—but Spencer has decided to forgo some caution in the name of getting all his work done. 

He doesn’t really have a choice, honestly. He’s planned out this whole day meticulously, much like every other day. He packed his bag with everything he would need for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t have to make the aforementioned stop at his dorm, he picked the line with the barista that has never gotten his order wrong—and, he’s realized over numerous trips to this shop, is the fastest in the entire cafe—and his usual table is big enough to hold all of his books and papers. 

But as Spencer finishes pouring in his last bit of sugar, he realizes his meticulous plan is foiled before he can even take the first sip. 

Because his table is taken. 

The table he sat at the first time he stopped in here before class and the table he has sat at every other time since, the table that has honestly become a part of his routine and is the only one big enough for all of the work he has to get done this afternoon, is taken by some woman wearing a Caltech sweatshirt and reading a book. You’ve got your own thermos in front of you, so at least you care about the environment, but that thought doesn’t stop the flareup of annoyance inside of him. 

You have to be a student, and you have to be his age, and you have to either be oblivious or have a whole lot of nerve because Spencer has seen you around campus and in this coffee shop before. That means you know this is his table and you still took it anyway. 

“That’s my table,” Spencer says, and after it leaves his mouth he’s able to hear how stupid he sounds. It’s a table in a public coffee shop. Of course he has no claim to it—just because it’s obvious to him doesn’t mean it’s obvious to you. You probably didn’t even know. 

You look up from your book, and the second stupid thought to hit him is how pretty you are. “I know.”

He frowns. He can’t think that table thieves are pretty, especially ones with apparent malicious and knowledgeable intent. “You— you know?”

You nod. “I’m here almost as much as you are, Mr. Reid.”

“Doctor Reid,” he corrects, almost on instinct. 

Your eyebrows rise. “Doctor?”

“I have two PhDs,” he explains, though he feels even more stupid doing so as he gets on the edge of stammering. “I’m working on a third. Chemistry.”

“And already I know more about you in a minute than I’ve gotten in the past month,” you muse. “That’s why I took your table, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer frowns even more. “You took my table so I could tell you about my PhDs?”

“So I could get an excuse to talk to you,” you correct. Your smile grows a bit and you huff a quiet laugh, more to yourself than anything. “You’re a little intimidating.”

That gets him completely, his brows furrowing deeper yet. “I— I’m intimidating?”

“Well, yeah,” you say. “You’re a gorgeous guy who always looks like he’s got something to do, so I never wanted to interrupt you. But I really wanted to ask you out, so I finally decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Spencer feels like his brain is short circuiting. He’s still stuck on the intimidating comment, and he’s still kind of annoyed that you took his table, but you specifically went out of your way to get his attention and now you’re calling him gorgeous— 

Just who the hell are you? 

“You’re not busy, are you?” He’s drawn out of his head temporarily as you speak again, dazzling smile still on display. “I would get it if you were. I mean, third PhD and all.”

“No,” he says immediately, shaking his head far too rapidly, “no— no, I’m not busy.”

He just has a whole lot of work to do, work that he came specifically to this cafe to do, but you’re throwing him off of everything in the first five seconds of knowing each other. 

“Wonderful.” Your smile grows and Spencer feels his face grow hot. He finds his annoyance quickly fading, replaced with some mix of confusion and interest and embarrassment. “If you’ve got the time, I’d love to sit down and talk some. Get to know you a bit.”

And again, Spencer hardly even knows what to say. He— he doesn’t talk to girls. Girls don’t talk to him. But here you are, stealing his table and flashing pretty smiles and wanting to get to know him— wanting to ask him out. It’s all so absurd that a part of him thinks he might just be dreaming, but he’s sure he’s fully conscious. 

“Why?” he blurts out, and he would be even more embarrassed if it wasn’t such a genuine question. 

You give him a wry look. “Why what?” 

“Wh— why would you want to get to know me?” Spencer stammers. “There’s more than 2,000 other students here. There’s almost 40 million people in California. I’m no one.”

“You are Doctor Spencer Reid,” you say, looking him right in the eye. “You drink your coffee with an absurd amount of sugar and cream, you always seem to be in a hurry, you’re one of the most beautiful guys I’ve ever seen, and I want to know more about you than passing observations. That’s why.” 

For once, Spencer finds that he’s speechless. He doesn’t think anyone has ever been this blatant, this honest with him, over a matter like this. He— he doesn’t think he’s ever been asked out. Are you asking him out?

“If you think this is totally weird and you want your table back, say the word and I’ll get out of here.” Your eyes move to the free seat across from you, and you tilt your head. “But… if you don’t think it’s totally weird, there’s room for another.” 

Spencer stands there for a second, a thousand things flitting through his mind once again. On one hand, he has a lot of work to do. This is throwing off his entire routine, and even if he just spends ten minutes talking here, he’s going to have to get all his work done, and he’ll probably end up running to his office hours to make it there in time. Part of the reason that he plans things out so meticulously is so he can avoid sprints across campus that he’s most certainly not built for. 

On the other hand, he’s known you for two minutes and he’s already enraptured. He wants nothing more than to ignore that voice in his head and sit down across from you, absorb every bit of attention you’re willing to give and every word you say, and get to know this strange table thief. 

It takes another moment, but Spencer slings his bag off and takes the seat across from you. He sets his bag on the ground and his oversugared coffee on the table, and he notices the way a weight seems to leave your shoulders. 

You were nervous. Nervous to talk to him. The thought is almost laughable, that someone feels the way about him that he usually feels in every social interaction. 

“It is a little weird,” Spencer says, and he finds a small smile tugging at his lips that he can’t fully control. “But that’s kind of my specialty.” 

Your smile grows, and Spencer thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. He has no idea how he got lucky enough for you to intercept him like this, but he’s grateful for it. 

“Good to hear,” you nod, and you let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry for stealing your table, by the way. It was the only thing I could think of to get your attention.” 

He shakes his head as he blinks a few times. “I don’t blame you. It’s a good table.” 

“It’s not really the table,” you say wryly. “It’s you. You’re very intriguing.” 

“Well,” Spencer says, clearing his throat as he tries his hardest to calm his nerves, “I guess it’s not really my table anymore. It can be our table, going forward.” 

Your eyebrows rise, and your smile is as bright as your eyes. “I like the sound of that, Doctor Reid.” 

His face burns as he tries to act casual, and he hopes you can’t tell how much he likes the sound of that. 

You start talking, asking him questions about himself and what he does and how in the world he has two PhDs already when you’re the same age, and he finds himself attached to every word—it’s an active effort to not get lost in those bright eyes of yours. 

(Spencer never does make it to those office hours.)

[blingblong55]

Softly enchanted - Simon "Ghost" Riley

---- F!Reader, fluff, established!relationship, birthday girl!reader, ----

A/N: Happy birthday to all the June pookies <3

The week leading up to your birthday is a whirlwind of anticipation and subtle planning on Simon’s part. You’re vaguely aware that he’s up to something, but every time you try to pry information out of him, he only smirks and changes the subject. It's adorable the way he tries to hide away his plans and you let it happen.

It starts on Monday morning. You’re getting ready for work when Simon leans against the bathroom door, watching you with an amused expression. “Got any special plans for your birthday, love?” You glance at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Just curious. Thought maybe you’d want to do something different this year.”

You smile, turning to face him. “Honestly, Simon, I just want a quiet day at home. Nothing too fancy.” You did enjoy last year, he and you cuddled in bed, watching a shitty comedy film on the tablet he gave you two birthdays ago.

His eyes twinkle with mischief, the oh-so-same stare he gave you many moons ago when he asked you to be his wife. “Are you sure? It’s your birthday, after all. You deserve to be spoiled, lovie.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You always spoil me. Let’s just have a simple day, okay?”

He nods, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. “Alright, lovie. If that’s what you want.”

Throughout the week, Simon continues to drop little hints and ask questions that make you wonder what he’s up to. On Wednesday, you’re curled up on the couch with a book when he sits down beside you, a thoughtful look on his face.

“When you were a kid, what was your favourite birthday?” he asks suddenly.

You glance up, surprised by the question. “Hmm, probably the ones where we went to the carnival. It was always so much fun, with the rides and games. I miss those days.” It's questions like these that remind you of why he and you fell in love. He always asked good questions, wanting to know you more by your memories and emotions than anything else.

He nods, filing the information away. “Sounds like a great time.”

On Thursday, you find him browsing something on his phone, a secretive smile playing on his lips. “What are you looking at?” you ask, leaning over to get a peek.

He quickly locks the screen, chuckling. “Nothing you need to worry about, birthday girl.”

You narrow your eyes at him, playfully suspicious. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he says, his grin widening. “But you’ll just have to wait and see.” What is ironic is he can keep military plans and secrets to himself without even letting his body tell you otherwise but when it comes to you or anything that surrounds you, his body gives him away. His smile is wide as he tries to keep in all the little lies he's been planning.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re more curious than ever about what Simon has in store. He’s been extra attentive all week, making sure you’re happy and relaxed. That evening, as you’re getting ready for bed, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Looking forward to tomorrow?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. You nod, leaning into his embrace. “As long as I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.” He presses a kiss to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine, “I promise it will be.”

The sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. You stir, feeling the warmth of Simon’s arm wrapped around you. His steady breaths are a comforting rhythm, a reminder of his presence. You nuzzle closer, not quite ready to leave the cocoon of warmth and safety his embrace provides. “Morning, birthday girl,” Simon’s deep voice rumbles softly in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Morning,” you murmur, smiling as you feel his lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He pulls you closer, his grip tightening slightly as if to say he never wants to let you go. “Any special requests for today?” he asks, though you’ve had this conversation before. You shake your head. “Just want to stay home, something simple and private.” Simon’s eyes soften as he looks at you. “If that’s what you want, lovie, that’s what we’ll do.”

It was times like these he could give you the world at the plea of your voice.

The morning passes in a blur of lazy kisses and whispered sweet nothings. The two of you cook breakfast together, bumping hips and sharing laughter in the small kitchen. You’ve always cherished these quiet moments, when the world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

After breakfast, you both settle on the couch, and he surprises you with a small box wrapped in delicate paper. "Open it," he encourages with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You unwrap the box carefully, revealing a beautiful necklace with a pendant shaped like a heart. Your breath catches. "Simon, it's beautiful." He helps you put it on, his fingers grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Not as beautiful as you," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear.

Lunch is a cosy affair at the dining table, simple yet perfect. Simon surprises you with your favourite dish, a testament to how well he knows you. “How did you know?” you ask, marvelling at the spread. He winks. “I’ve got my ways.” In truth, he had heard you talk with your mum about craving that one dish you ate as a kid and still adored. After all, he is a military man, he has his own ways of knowing everything.

After lunch, you settle on the couch, cuddling up under a blanket as you watch a movie. Simon’s fingers trace idle patterns on your arm, his touch sending sparks of warmth through you. You’re content, happy to spend the day in the comfort of your home with the person you love.

As the afternoon sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the room, Simon sits up and stretches. “Fancy a pizza for dinner?” You laugh, shaking your head. “We just had lunch, and you’re already thinking about dinner?” He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a planner.” He truly was a planner, always needing to know the next move before it even happened.

“Alright,” you agree, not suspecting a thing. “Pizza sounds good.” You grab your jacket, and Simon does the same, leading you out to his car. The drive is peaceful, the radio playing softly in the background. You lean your head against the window, watching the scenery pass by. It isn’t until you see the bright, colourful lights in the distance that you realize something’s up. “Simon, where are we going?”

He glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just a little detour.” As you get closer, you recognize the familiar sights and sounds of a carnival. Your heart skips a beat, memories of childhood birthdays flooding back. You turn to Simon, eyes wide with disbelief. “You listened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “Of course, I did, lovie,” he says, parking the car and turning to face you. “Happy birthday,” he takes your hand in his, kissing it and caressing with his thumb the ring he oh so proudly gave you.

Tears spring to your eyes, a mix of joy and nostalgia overwhelming you. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Anything for you.” Hand in hand, you walk through the entrance, the vibrant energy of the carnival washing over you. The smell of cotton candy and popcorn fills the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and music. You feel like a kid again, the world around you bursting with colour and excitement.

You stop at a game booth, eyeing the prizes with a gleam of determination. “Think you can win me one of those?” you tease, pointing at a stuffed bear. Simon chuckles, stepping up to the challenge. “Watch and learn.” To your delight, he manages to win the bear on his first try, presenting it to you with a proud smile, “for the lady.” You laugh, accepting the bear and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, my hero.” The two of you spend hours exploring the carnival, riding the rides, playing games, and indulging in all the treats. Simon’s hand never leaves yours, his touch a constant reminder of his love and care. Every time you catch his eye, he’s smiling, his happiness infectious.

At one point, you stop by a booth selling colourful balloons. Simon insists on buying you one, choosing a bright red balloon that contrasts beautifully with the evening sky. You carry it with you, its string tied to your wrist, feeling a giddy sense of joy every time it bobs in the air. As the night falls and the stars begin to twinkle in the sky, you find yourselves at the Ferris wheel. Simon buys your tickets, leading you to the gondola. You settle in, the seat rocking gently as the wheel begins to turn. The higher you go, the more breathtaking the view becomes, the carnival lights sparkling below like a sea of stars.

At the top, the Ferris wheel pauses, leaving you suspended in a moment of perfect stillness. You turn to Simon, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. “This is amazing,” you whisper. He smiles, his eyes soft and full of affection, “I’m glad you think so. I wanted today to be special for you.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s perfect, Simon. Thank you.” He wraps an arm around you, holding you close. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair.

Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time they’re tears of pure joy. “This is all I ever wanted,” you confess, your voice trembling with emotion. “To feel free and happy, just like when I was a kid.” Simon tilts your chin up, his eyes locking with yours. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, lovie. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you have it.” You kiss him then, pouring all your love and gratitude into the embrace. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in your little universe. When you finally pull back, you’re both smiling, the connection between you stronger than ever.

As the Ferris wheel resumes its gentle rotation, you snuggle closer to Simon, basking in the warmth of his love. You watch the world go by below, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that you haven’t felt in a long time.

The ride ends all too soon, but the magic of the evening lingers. You walk hand in hand back to the car, your heart full to bursting. Simon opens the door for you, helping you in before climbing in himself. The drive home is quiet, and both of you are lost in your thoughts. When you finally pull into the driveway, you turn to Simon, your heart overflowing with love. “Thank you for today,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “It was perfect.”

He reaches over, taking your hand in his. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Y/N. You deserve it.” You lean over, kissing him softly. “I love you, Simon.” He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “I love you too, lovie. More than you’ll ever know.” With that, you head inside, ready to end the perfect day in the arms of the man you love. As you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but think about how lucky you are to have someone like Simon in your life. Someone who listens, who cares, and who loves you with all his heart.

The next morning, you wake up feeling light and joyful. Simon is already awake, propped up on one elbow as he watches you with a tender smile. "Good morning, birthday girl. How does it feel to be a year older?" You stretch and yawn, a grin spreading across your face. "It feels wonderful, especially after yesterday. Thank you for making it so special."

"Anything for you, lovie," he says, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss. "How about we continue the celebration with a special breakfast?"

You sit up, your curiosity piqued. "Special breakfast?" He nods, his eyes twinkling. "Pancakes with all your favourite toppings." You follow him to the kitchen, where he prepares a stack of fluffy pancakes, topping them with fresh berries, whipped cream, and a drizzle of maple syrup. You can't help but laugh at the sight. "You're spoiling me, Simon."

"That's the plan," he says with a wink. As you sit down to eat, you take a moment to reflect on everything Simon has done for you. His love and thoughtfulness have made your birthday unforgettable, and you feel a deep sense of gratitude. After breakfast, you decide to go for a walk in the nearby park. The sun is shining, and the air is crisp and fresh. Hand in hand, you stroll along the paths, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. Simon stops suddenly, pulling you close. “You know, Y/N, yesterday made me realize how much I love seeing you happy. Your smile is the best thing in the world.”

You blush, leaning into him. “You make me so happy, Simon. Thank you for everything.”

He kisses you softly, his eyes full of love. “I’ll always do my best to make you happy, lovie. That’s a promise.”

You continue your walk, talking about everything and nothing, savouring the moments of peace and contentment. When you finally head back home, you know that this birthday will be one you’ll cherish forever. The rest of the day is spent in blissful relaxation, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. As the sun sets, casting a warm glow over the room, Simon pulls you into his arms once more.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice full of love and promise. “Here’s to many more.” You smile, feeling your heart swell with happiness. “Here’s to many more,” you echo, knowing that as long as you have Simon by your side, every day will be special.

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79 @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza

[baronessvonglitter]

The Morning After

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Word count: 2,719

Summary: after a sex emergency, you call on your neighbor Javier Peña.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, talk of birth control failing, dom!Javier Peña, uprotected p in v sex, creampie, slut shaming, mildly dubious consent, biting, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, no specific physical descriptions of reader besides that she's wearing a dress, no use of y/n

Author's Note: I have no shame.

It's early when you knock on Javier Peña's door. He's dressed for work, looking like he's just about to head out, a cigarette already pressed between his lips and he answers your knock with a questioning glance, eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry to bother you," you say, timid under his gaze. "But you did say I could come to you for help and.. well.. could you do me a huge favor?"

Peña glances at his watch. "A favor? What kind of favor?" There's a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, as if you're offering yourself on a plate to be his breakfast in bed.

You take a deep breath and exhale. "Could you give me a ride to the drugstore? It's kind of a time-sensitive issue."

He takes note of the way your hands flutter towards your stomach and he seems to catch your drift. "All right. C'mon then."

"Thanks," you whisper as he leads you to his car outside.

He's quiet as he drives, which is how you've typically known him to be in the past year as your across-the-hall neighbor. He only took notice of you when your boyfriend moved out a few months back and you exchanged quick good mornings or traded mail that was delivered incorrectly to each other. He saw you were alone and offered small, subtle gestures of kindness like offering to walk you to your car if it was dark out, or to simply keep an eye on your place if you weren't around. He'd tell you to stay safe, that the world is dangerous for pretty young women like you. He even said at one point that he would help with any favor, and now you're counting on him.

"May I ask what you need that's so urgent?" he asks, driving through the morning traffic.

"Medicine," you give him the short answer.

"What kind of medicine?"

"Medicine.. for women." You look out the window so he won't see your face turning red.

"Are you pregnant?"

You look at him, embarrassed. "God, no! But.. something happened last night and I just need to get the morning after pill."

He raises his brow as he keeps his eye on the road, flicks his cigarette out the window. "And what, exactly, did you get up to last night?"

You give him a strange look. "What do you think I got up to last night? Obviously I slept with someone."

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Who was it? Someone you know? A date? A random hookup?"

It's so odd to see him flustered. It's such a departure from the calm, cool, collected man you usually see. "Why does it matter?"

A few moments pass where it's quiet between you two. Peña seems to be processing what you've said. "Did you use protection?"

You sigh. "Yes, but the condom broke. That's why I need the pill. Happy now?"

"The condom broke? What kind of cheap-ass condoms were you using?"

You scoff. "Are you really going to judge me right now? I've seen you come home with a different woman every night."

"That's entirely different," Peña snaps. "I use protection. I take every precaution when I'm with someone. And don't try to change the subject."

"Honestly, you're upset with me and it's weird.." but a part of you kind of likes his overprotectiveness.. dare you believe he's a bit jealous?

He runs his fingers through his hair, obviously trying to collect himself. "You were careless, bonita. For Christ's sake, I have a lot of things to worry about, but one of them shouldn't be if you're going to get knocked up by some guy you don't even know."

"First of all, he's someone I really like, and we've been out a few times. He's not 'some guy'. Besides, how do you know your own protection hasn't failed at times?"

It's his turn to scoff. "Believe me, mine has never failed. Because unlike you, I'm smart enough to keep an eye on the expiration date before I use it."

"Bullshit! Haven't you ever been so caught up in the moment that you just.. slip it on without thinking?"

He grits his teeth. You are really getting under his skin. "I may get carried away at times, but I've never been careless enough to put on an expired, low-quality condom. Stop pushing this argument."

"You? Carried away? Hell would freeze over." You cross your arms.

The drugstore still isn't in sight. "Carried away as in passionate," he corrects you.

"Define passionate." A playful smirk crosses your features, enjoying how uneasy Peña seems to be.

It's one thing for him to express himself physically and quite another to talk about it, especially with a woman. "I'm just a little more intense.. but I'm careful about it."

"Intense? How? This is the most interesting conversation I've ever had with you."

The fact that you've managed to fluster this man is really distracting you from your current emergency. "Well, I just really feel it.. I like to enjoy myself, but I also like to focus on making someone else feel good when I'm with them. I'm.. a little bit aggressive, a little bit demanding-"

"Holy shit!" you blurt out. "Got it." You turn away, blushing again.

"Is that what you wanted to hear? That I get a bit rough when I fuck?"

That word goes straight to your pussy, and the fucker knows it. He knows it. "I suppose I can see that about you. You look like the rough type."

He breaks into a smile, and damn it if you don't want to fucking straddle him in that seat. "You can imagine all you want, bonita. You haven't had the pleasure."

You do your best to ignore the feelings he's kindling inside you. You'd always found him attractive but until now hadn't thought about him as more than a neighbor. "Make a left up here," you tell him, hoping to put the issue to rest.

With a smirk he pulls into the parking lot and lets the engine idle. "You really can't wait to get your hands on that pill, huh?"

"The sooner the better," you shrug. "Do you need anything while I'm in there? Maybe some more condoms?"

Peña gives a small, amused laugh. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. Get me two boxes while you're at it, just in case." He winks.

You roll your eyes. "Wait for me, okay?"

"Sure thing, and don't rush, bonita. It's just some condoms. I'm sure you could use another pack yourself." He leans back in his seat as he watches you go into the store.

* * *

You're out five minutes later. "We have a problem," you tell Peña.

"What's the problem?" A frown appears on his face.

"They won't let me purchase the pill unless my 'husband' is with me."

"What kind of bullshit is that? Where the hell are we? Saudi Arabia?"

"Be nice," you try to calm him, though you're touched by how upset he is over a problem he has nothing to do with. "Just come in with me, okay? I need you."

Without a word he sighs deeply and shuts off the engine, getting out onto the sidewalk with you. You enter the pharmacy. "Just hold my hand," you whisper, and he grabs hold of yours. "You're sweating a lot," you mention.

"I'm fine," he mutters. As you approach the counter, Peña does a total 180 and puts his arm around your waist, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. It's not hard for you to play into it, as his touch sizzles through your clothes. You take a moment to realize how big his hands are, and once again your mind goes to a place you have no control over.

"See? You had me bring my husband in here, taking him away from his very busy and very important job as an agent in the Drug Enforcement Administration, just to help me get medicine that by law you are not legally required to withhold from me," you tell the pharmacist, an older man with an unpleasant face and demeanor.

"My wife and I got a little carried away last night," Peña pipes in, playing his part. With a smirk he presses himself to you, grabbing your ass with both hands and kissing you. You freeze for a moment at the shock of it, but your body reacts so naturally that you kiss him back, arms draped around his neck. His tongue gently pries your lips apart and you can taste cigarettes and whiskey in his kiss. Your panties dampen with unexpected desire and you have the urge to wrap your legs around his waist and let him take you right there against the plastic barrier of the drugstore counter, but a loud harrumph from the elderly pharmacist stops both of you.

"We're newlyweds," you explain, trying to catch your breath as Peña wraps his arms around you from behind. He kisses the side of your neck and nearly all rational thought leaves you. "We're still waiting for his vasectomy to heal." This little white lie earns you a pinch on the ass from him. You yelp. "We'll be purchasing several of these morning after pills."

Satisfied, the pharmacist give you the pill packets and you pay, swatting Peña's hand away when he tries to pay for them with his own cash. "You have 72 hours to take the pill to keep from getting pregnant," the elderly man tells you before you leave. "So you two have plenty of fun before then."

"We're going to have to get back home quickly, bonita," Peña tells you, and you have no doubt he's no longer in character. There's a rush of adrenaline shooting through you and you're both in a completely different headspace than you were before.

"My place or yours?" you ask, a little breathless as you exit the building.

He pulls you in for another scorching kiss. "Mine" he practically growls.

* * *

You're barely through his apartment door when he presses you to the nearest wall, lifting your leg and rubbing against you. "Fuck, look at this, you're already so wet," he murmurs, lifting your skirt and pulling your panties roughly down your legs. He stuffs them in his jacket pocket and his fingers go back to press inside you wet, waiting cunt. Two fingers slide in easily. "Jesus Christ, bonita, you're dying for it, aren't you?" You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, roughly pumping his fingers inside of you. Your knees go weak but he's there to hold you up, kneading your ass cheek with one hand while the other gets you ready for him. "Que sucia," he whispers roughly into your ear. "Such a dirty girl, sleeping with a different man each day, letting each of them come inside you. From now on I'm going to be the only one to come inside you, is that understood?" When you don't answer, he grabs your chin with his free hand. "Understood?"

"Ye-yes!" you moan, feeling helpless as he finger fucks you but refuses to let you come. Just when you think you're on that edge he takes it away. "You don't get to come yet, baby. You will only come on my cock, is that understood?" In response you clench around him and he groans. "Ah, fuck, you're tight. Your date last night must have been so small. I'm gonna fix that, and I'm gonna fill you up so you're leaking my cum for days, bonita."

"Turn around," he whispers gruffly, moving you anyway so you're facing away, your palms pressed to the wall. He removes your dress over your head and makes quick work of removing your bra. Cupping your breasts he kisses the nape of your neck and shoulders, leaving small bite marks where no one will see them. Each love bite is like a small fire upon your skin, which he laves with his tongue to soothe it. He can't keep his hands away from your ass: squeezing, rubbing, giving little spanks and smiling when you yelp in both surprise and pleasure. He's muttering things in Spanish that you can't understand, but from his tone you know it's praise. You hear his belt unbuckling, pants sliding down. Your pussy clenches in anticipation. He lifts your ass with one hand and guides himself to you with the other. All you feel is a delicious heat, the girth of him filling you up, stretching you. You gasp. He's gentle with the first few inches, and shoves forward without warning for the last few inches so that it takes your breath away. "Oh look at that.. all pink and stretched out around my cock. I bet your little boyfriend from last night didn't do this. I bet he laid on top of you and pumped for about three seconds before he came and left you having to run to me.." You're barely listening to his words, whimpering, mumbling 'please' and 'oh god!', concentrating on his cock, how it moves, how it fills you so that it's almost painful but Peña would never hurt you. His hands on your hips help him with steady strokes as he gets a feel for you, burrowing inside your channel with fluidity. "God damn, what a view," he mutters. "Your pink little ass and your pussy stretched so wide for me.. Listen to that, bonita," he quiets and lets the sound of your slapping flesh fill the room. You can't hold back, moaning and panting. "It's a fucking symphony," Peña curses, moving his hips faster. The new pace throws you for a loop and you're at his mercy, gasping with each deep, quick thrust. It's impossible to think of anything except what he's doing to you to make you come.

"Oh Javi," you moan, using his given nickname for the first time. "Please please please please!"

He grunts. "Please what, baby?" His hand snakes around to your front and you already know what's going to happen next.

"Please let me come, please let me come, oh god!" You squeeze your eyes shut tight.

"Dirty girl wants to come? Say it. Say you want me to fill you up, dirty girl." His voice is gravelly in your ear. "Say you want my cum inside you for the next three days."

You're barely able to breathe let alone form sentences. "Please... I want your cum inside me!"

"Inside where, baby?"

"In my fucking pussy! Blow your fucking load in me!" You're desperate, feral.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, taken over by your own dirty talk, smirking because you're exactly the kind of dirty girl he thought you to be. "That's exactly what dirty girls say, baby. But you need to come first. I want to come when you do, and you'll see why." With that he placed his touch on your clit, rubbing in little circles until you're engulfed in tidal waves of pleasure. You're incoherent as you rhythmically clench around his cock, but able to register the way he swells right before he twitches, milked by you, releasing his cum and splashing his warmth deep inside you. God, it's such a primal feeling. And you keep rippling around him, small spasms that take forever to die away. Peña slumps against your back, holding you close with one arm. "Let me see, baby." He disengages, getting a good view of your wrecked pussy, already spilling out his pearlescent seed. He uses his fingers to push it back inside you, like something he's found to play with. He makes you stand, still holding on to the wall, watching his cum fall along your inner thigh and drip to the floor. "Let it all drip out of you, baby. There's more where that came from."

You stand, trying to catch your breath. His cum turns cold running in tiny rivulets down your thigh, but you like the feeling. It's almost sacred, in a way. And it's freeing. Thanks to your pills you are carefree for the next few days.

"Let's get you in the shower," he says, his voice gentle this time as he gently turns you to kiss your mouth. "Then we'll try out the sofa.."

You chuckle. "Aren't you already late for work because of me?"

"Fuck it. I can be a few hours late.."

[steddiee]

I can’t stop thinking about Steve and Eddies daughter getting her first period.

Hawkins high biology was a ver censored affair in 1985 and Steve’s momma was never around long enough for her to catch her breath and realise that she and her abomination of an husband never even had the birds and the bees talk with him. Steve's series of dates he'd gained the king title for were never with him long enough to figure out that he was absouletly and completely cluless as how exactly the female reproduction system worked.

Eddies mom died long before Eddie was old enough to understand this stuff, and Wayne just assumed Eddie wouldn’t ever have any use of this knowledge when he came out as gay to him before he had the chance to say anything. So, he just reminded him that he needed to be safe and didn’t bother going into female anatomy and how it all works.

The two boys just never questioned it, wasn't curious about it at all. Steve honestly thought Robin had some sort of a stomach condition that meant she was in pain for a while occassionaly.

So, one faithful midnight in early 2006, Robin gets a call from a frantic Eddie and a Steve who has gone into I-have-a-nail-bag-and-I-am-not-afraid-to-use-it mode.

She is confused, curious and slighltly worried but when she finally understands that nobody explained anything ever to her two idiots, she laughs a little.

Steve's reaction to Robin laughing at this very real emergency - RoBIn she might be dying in the other room. stop laughing- is less than calm and only whispered because he doesn't want his daughter to think she is dying.

The only reason they hadn't yet called the emergency room is because she would abosluetly not let them because of how embarrased she was.

Eddie, at this point, takes over the reciever because there's no way steve is calm enough to be able to listen to instructions.

Robin tells Eddie all about cramps and pads and tampons and choclate and painkillers and icecream and movies and hot waterbottles and ricesocks. At some point Eddie gestures to Steve to get a notepad and a pen and actually takes notes.

When she is finally finished talking, Eddie and Steve sit their daughter down. After reassuring her that she is going to be absolutley fine with tears of relief and a bit of pride - Steve our litte girl's a lady now- and may hugs, they give her the option to listen to her aunt robin explain it all, or them trying their best to explain.

She wisely chooses her aunt Robin. So, she starts from scratch, and in much more detail, lays it all out. She stars smiling towards the end, assured that its going to be all fine.

Eddie spends the entire night researching it all on the internet. He learns everything, and with his notes from his conversation with Robin finally starts understanding how funny last nights -wow he did not realise the sun come up- conversation must've been to Robin.

They go shoppiing together after breakfast and get all the necessities. The shopkeeper smiles and says "shes lucky to have you as her dads" they just smile and reply "we're lucky to have her"

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Advice, influences and Misc.

Apologies for taking so long on some of these, admittedly I'm much more likely to entirely forget about asks that are about me and my interests 💃 Thank you for all the questions regardless! And thank you specially to everyone who just drops nice messages into my inbox out of kindness.

I'm brazillian and a native portuguese speaker!

I'll probably return to twitter eventually, but a) I hate that place and b) It didn't make much sense to me to turn it into a BG3 account out of the blue. I am considering making an Instagram or a new twitter just to have more places where people can follow in case they don't care for tumblr, but it's just been a very busy year so far and so that's kind of low on the list of priorities. If I ever do that I'll be sure to announce it here. Have a nice day yourself!

Sorry to hear that! I've gotten a few messages before about this issue, and the problem is that since I am myself not from the US, my options are also limited :( a lot of patreon alternatives don't work for me because they either don't go through paypal, take insane currency conversion fees, or just straight up block me from signing up.

Speak for yourself, I just assume everyone I speak to online has committed some sort of atrocious crime until proven otherwise. Except for me - of course. I have never done anything bad in my life.

I still have a lot to learn! But I will basically use whatever works for me at the moment, as well as make a sincere effort to learn about musculature and anatomy so I can understand those components and how they move, instead of only knowing what they look like when still - that's how you get better at drawing from memory. Volume mostly comes from coloring and understanding light, which is it's own beast but can very much be learned from similar reference materials and observing it IRL!

My favorite places to get reference are medical diagrams, weird pictures I take of myself, 3D software (often Virt-a-mate) and questionably phrased image google searches.

My favorite artists are Jason Shawn Alexander and Sean Murphy, but I'm not sure how much of it reflects in my art nowadays! I generally seek to pick up techniques from artists rather than to emulate style.

Honestly I love that you guys generally do the thing he would hate the most: take him very non-seriously LOL

I've been in a real Chelsea Wolfe and Amyl And The Sniffers kick lately! But usually you'll also find me listening to stuff like Boy Harsher, Swans, FWF, JK Flesh Lingua Ignota, Nick Cave, David Bowie, and so on. Music for the weird gays, basically.

I went insane and wrote a 23-chapter-long-and-still-ongoing fic in like four months. But also - I'm not that good, I'm just shamelessly pretentious LOL

Hm. That's a good question, but I'm not really sure. Sincerely not trying to be a edgier-than-thou here (in fact, this has made me a little self conscious at one time or another) but a lot of art that I don't mean to be horror-y in nature at all has been associated with the genre. So perhaps I don't know what I'm doing either, LOL.

I think just leaning on making things look slightly "wrong" or "ugly" on purpose is the way, but I also find that if you just seek to depict people as they are instead of idealized versions of themselves, you will arrive at that either way.

Thank you for reading! Honestly, I'm guilty of having not read much at all since I was in my late teens, and the style I'm employing for ANE is very different from the things I would call "influential" for me, or even that I used to enjoy reading at all before. I read a lot of Chuck Palahniuk as a youth (and, no slight to people who do like him still, but nowadays I'm not sure why I ever did. His stories don't speak to me at all anymore) as well a lot of weird experimental lit that I didn't even care to remember the name of. My last book stint from one or two years ago was composed solely of historical and medical literature, and last year I got really into Cormac Mcarthy thanks to the internet.

So, all in all, I'm absolutely all over the place LOL if you put a gun to my head and told me to list my favorite books, I'd say The Indifferent Stars Above and Blood Meridian.

(Consider the reading portion of the question to have been answered above) I really really liked Beau is Afraid and think it's a really great "horror" movie. Sue me.

[magewolf-the-artist]

Something something Edward you naughty boy, something something fun sibling bickering.

I'm honestly pretty fond of how the last panel came out. Cute little buggers

Page one: https://www.tumblr.com/magewolf-the-artist/751028312099405824/hey-look-i-can-do-actual-comics-too-oh-god-im?source=share

Page two: https://www.tumblr.com/magewolf-the-artist/752777581225476096/mild-blood-and-potentially-disturbing-imagery-on?source=share

Page three: https://www.tumblr.com/magewolf-the-artist/752956765439737856/expertly-dodging-the-question-as-to-not-traumadump?source=share

[danieyells]

After Hotaburi's chapter i was very curious about Zenji voicelines! Can i ask for them, please?

@yuri-is-online YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT OVERWHELMING ME although I appreciate the concern!! If I get overwhelmed or need a break I just put it aside until I'm ready or have the time and energy and attention span or ideas if necessary haha so no need to worry there 'u' (Also. . .good luck with those fics lolol)

ZENJI IS OUR LAST BOI. Until we get Ed and Lyca anyway. Which will honestly probably be in like. A week or two. Possibly less. I had my suspicions when I first read his that he was a ghost lol knowing he is. . .it gives them a little different feeling I guess haha.

Default:

"Why, hello there, my dear. Suppose we kick off another swanky day here?"

"You want to know the meaning of my words? I see— I'll have to give you a lecture on romanticism."

"What's this? Well, it's a biwa, of course. It's a biwa just as you are yourself."

what does that mean tho. . .i mean i get what it means but also it feels like it must mean something. . . .

"Girls, be ambitious... Dream big, my dear."

proud women enjoyer zenji kotodama

"A man who's everywhere but can be found nowhere... That's what it means to be an inspired man of the quill."

i think that's just what it means to be a ghost bby. . . . . . . . . . .

"Heh. There's no doubt about it. Zenji Kotodama is once again the most styling man on campus. These glad rags are the cat's pajamas."

You've Got Mail:

"Come now, read those messages out, won't you? They're fan letters for me, aren't they? ...They're not?"

Affinity 1:

"Come now, let's depart in search of something sensational."

Affinity 2:

"Oh, have you come to see me? This is troubling. I'm afraid I'm out of autographs."

where have you been distributing them. . .?

Affinity 3:

"What am I doing here? ...I'm people-watching."

Affinity 4:

"Ordinarily I ask for write-ins for my advice salon on the World Wide Web...but tonight, I'm taking it out into the field."

i wonder if he's waiting to encounter people who'll be able to see and hear him or if he's just like. . .genuinely ignoring/forgetting/disregarding that he isn't seen or heard. . .or maybe he was ignored a lot in his lifetime too so he doesn't question that people don't respond. . . .

Affinity 5:

"The moon is beautiful... I always look forward to passing the hours in conversation with you and Towa on nights like these."

i thought you didn't hang around jabberwock after dark because the dark was dangerous tho. . .maybe if the moon is big and bright he doesn't mind because it's not as dark lolol

Affinity 6:

"My folktale videos? I filmed them at Haku's behest, but I can't imagine these old things will capture my fans' hearts..."

based on that the Urashima Taro video has his voice in it but his character story recording doesn't have him or his voice in it(and Haku deliberately tries to make the background interesting because he knows it'll only be the background and biwa sounds,) I think his voice can be recorded but if he's visibly in the recording it won't be captured? That or Haku has recording equipment that can capture ghost voices, but not images???

Affinity 7:

"It truly is the age of YouTube. Can you fathom the romance of my artistry spreading to all four corners of the globe?"

Affinity 8:

"Every tool has its own knack you've got to acquire to use it properly. Behold— my mastery with a fishing pole!"

Affinity 9:

"This doll here is special. The moment I met him I felt a destiny such that I knew we couldn't be strangers."

Affinity 10:

"Oh, I didn't mean to give you a fright... I ought to have expected this. A sudden brush with an inspired man of the quill would take anyone's breath away."

Affinity 11:

"Have you got any siblings, my dear? Why no, I don't mean anything by it. Just a little morning conversation."

i can imagine him looking fondly at his doll as he says he doesn't mean anything by it. His sibling isn't one of the most important things in the world to him or anything. He's just making conversation. btw in Japanese he says "morning talk" which sounds an awful lot like "pillow talk" to me and idk how many people would be comfortable discussing their siblings after the deed--

Affinity 12:

"Are you going to Mortkranken, my dear? ...I see. No, I don't mean anything by it. Are you hurt? I hope you'll take care."

so while it makes sense for Zenji to ask this as he is noted in his profile to be a worrywart, not to mention he died on campus, but also. . .y'know, theories.

Affinity 13:

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Apparently my footsteps give the general students the heebie-jeebies..."

In Japanese it does clarify that he moves without the sound of footsteps at all because the general students freak out hearing his footsteps since they can't see him

Affinity 14:

"A swanky morning calls for a swanky breakfast, and some swanky radio calisthenics."

apparently radio calisthenics are still pretty popular in japan. in any case man are you sure you died like a year ago you sound so old

Affinity 15:

"Why, Subaru hasn't risen yet. Go ahead and wake him, won't you, my dear? I'll accompany your efforts from here with my biwa."

Affinity 16:

"A burst of inspiration has taken hold of me... No. The ghost of artistry has possessed my soul!"

okay well be careful with ghosts taking over your soul you don't have a ton left if you lose that--

Affinity 17:

"To be a Darkwick student is to greet danger as an old friend... But I hope that Haku and Subaru have a long life ahead of them."

Affinity 18:

"Zenji Kotodama is a wonderful name, don't you think? A sensational name befitting of my sensational sensibilities."

this line and the meanings of "Zenji" and "Kotodama" make me think it's a pseudonym lol most people don't praise their own names like that y'know? of course zenji isn't most people but. . . .

Affinity 19:

"Trouble sleeping? Then I'll read you a story. How about Urashima Taro?"

Affinity 20:

"I was standing by your pillow last night? Horsefeathers, I'd never. I was there the night before last."

BABY I DON'T THINK THAT'S BETTER. YOU ARE STILL WATCHING THEM SLEEP. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WATCH THEM DO.

Affinity 21:

"Go ahead and eat. No, don't give me another thought—I'm on a diet, you see. Watching you is enough food for my soul."

you see why i suspected initially that he didn't know he was dead? can you eat at all buddy?? i don't think it's a diet if you've lost the ability to consume food. . . .

Affinity 22:

"Haku's busy today—film me in his stead, won't you?"

Affinity 23:

"I've got a little story about a hapless fool of a man... I'm sure it's hardly worth listening to. I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to share it with you?"

the true stories seem like the ones he wants to avoid. . .'a hapless fool of a man's story that isn't worth listening to but i'd still like to share' sounds an awful lot like it must be about him and his life. . . . In Japanese he says 「救いようのない、馬鹿な男の物語さ」 "it's the story of an irredeemable/hopeless, stupid man.". . .who did you hurt, Zenji?

Affinity 24:

"To be able to look into your eyes and bid you good night... I'm the luckiest fella for miles around."

Affinity 25(max):

"Maybe we did meet too late. But it's all right. I promise I'll find you in the next life."

but. . .but we have this life. . .although this is one of the few acknowledgements he really gives of his own ghostly nature. He wants to be able to live with you. To be tangibly there for you, to touch you and support you, to be able to show you off to others. . .but he can't be recognized. He can't be seen or heard but by a select few, it's only thanks to Haku that he can be seen or heard by you. It's too late for something 'real' now. So he can plan for the future. For the next life. He'll find you when you're both alive and then you can do everything you'd want to do with a real physical boyfriend. He promises.

Spring:

"In spring, the dawn... Red tinges the slowly paling mountain rim... Ah... These mountain fellas must've been goofy for some doll..."

"There is hope buried under the cherry trees... It means that spring is the season of chance encounters."

isn't the like. rumor that cherry blossoms are pink because they dye their petals with the blood of corpses buried beneath them or something? i swear i read that somewhere. apparently it comes from a poem. is hope a body buried under a sakura tree. is that where they buried you, Zenji?

"The cherry blossoms of Hotarubi are ephemeral—they bloom only to be quickly washed away by the rain. But I am rather fond of that way of life."

Zenji simultaneously lives in Acceptance and Denial stages of grief it seems lol

"The beauty of the cherry blossoms under the night sky inspired me to pick up my pen... Oh, it has gotten easier to lift."

Summer:

"Have you seen him!? Who? Why, my doll, of course! This is very troubling. I've got to find him before the boogeymen stir!"

. . .somehow this reminds me of the Jiro dialogue where he's like "if Yuri asks where I am, tell him i went to bed, i'm going out" lol if the doll reminds him of Jiro, it seems to make sense that now and then it wanders off on its own. I wonder where it's going though?

"My ideal summer vacation? I wish to lay down my burdens in the springs of Yugawara and pursue my wordsmithery in peace, as so many greats have done before me."

Yugawara is a hot spring town in Japan! Apparently since the Meiji era people would go there for inspiration and such thanks to the atmosphere

"This master wordsmith studied by the light of fireflies... I see. Haku! Turn out the lights!"

"I heard a frightful rumor... Apparently the ghost of a dead student has been spotted around Hotarubi..."

THAT'S YOU. YOU ARE THE SCARY GHOST OF A DEAD STUDENT. PEOPLE CAN SEE YOU MORE BECAUSE IT'S SUMMER.

Autumn:

"Fall is the perfect season for a new book, and I have the perfect one for you... From inspired man of the quill Zenji Kotodama, the fruit of his sweat and blood... "Body.""

"A song for you in the season of the arts... From inspired lute priest Zenji Kotod— Wait, where are you going!?"

why is this the one time 'biwa' is translated to 'lute' lol. . .although 'lute priest' does sound way better than 'biwa priest'

"Gauging the literary significance of this video by something as insignificant as views... Horsefeathers, isn't it?"

yeah!!! don't judge your worth by views or follows, zenji!!!

"I've decided to make you the heroine of my next work... A beautiful princess who bites into a poisoned apple and falls into a deep slumber... and seven of you!"

a fascinating retelling of Snow White. . .Snow White And The Seven Snow Whites. . . .

Winter:

"Good morning, fellas! Time for my biwa recital to color the chill of this frigid sunrise! I call it "Six O'Clock in the Morning.""

zenji nO PEOPLE ARE TRYNA SLEEP

"There's a rumor going around that you can hear a biwa playing in the music room when no one's there... I go all the time though, and I've never heard it..."

again. . .that's because it's you. . . .

"The setting sun... The sky dyed purple... Your beautiful profile, obscured... (gasp) I've been struck by inspiration!! My dear, I have to leave you here!"

"Are you cold? Then let me warm you up... My dear, why are you scooting away? I'll only make you colder...?"

it really seems like he forgets he's a ghost pretty often lmao

His birthday:

"Is this...a birthday present...? (hic) (sob) I'm the luckiest fella around...!"

people don't give him gifts often huh. . . .

Your birthday:

"I've planned the perfect day to celebrate the miracle of your birth... We'll start with an ode to you, accompanied by my biwa."

he planned you a whole outing or maybe a party! with all day musical accompaniment!! What a sweetheart!!

New Years:

"Happy New Year, my dear. I'll be making the first shrine visit with Haku—care to join us?"

Valentine's Day:

"My dear...is this for me? (hic) (sob) I'll treasure it always...!"

well given he probably can't eat it. . .fair reaction

White Day:

"I'm sorry... I did try to explain that a biwa recital would make a better gift, but Haku insisted I present you with confections instead..."

thanks haku you a real one lmao although music wouldn't be bad just. . . .

April Fool's Day:

"No, I would never lie to you. An inspired man spins fiction with his quill, not his mouth, after all."

y'know, i love the honesty! you keep making stories and being open, zenji!

Halloween:

"Why, you gave me quite a fright in that getup! What a marvelously queer celebration this is! So this is the legacy of westernization..."

no the marvelously queer celebrations are in june. although halloween is also marvelously queer sometimes--

Christmas:

"Merry Christmas! I've completed a new fairy tale. May my wishes reach the hearts of children everywhere..."

not a gift for you, but for the children! can a ghoul ghost and a human have--

Idle:

"...And they lived happily ever after. How did you like my new story? I'd love to hear your— What? You weren't listening!?"

"Can you see me? Phew... You've been so quiet, you had me worried, my dear."

Absent:

"Ah, I'm so relieved you're all right, my dear. I wondered if something had happened on a mission... I'm glad my fears had no teeth."

THAT'S ALL OF EM. He's really. . .he is himself the whole way through huh lol. At the same time when he does acknowledge his ghostliness(and oftentimes he does the exact opposite, simply lacking in self-awareness) he seems a little lonely and regretful. . .I wonder if he was always such a worrywart or if he started worrying more after he died, realizing first hand just how dangerous things could be. I'm surprised how feel acknowledgements his doll gets, although I don't think he carries it on the home screen?

I wonder how different his personality was when he was alive. Probably not very different tbh.

ANYWAY IT IS HALF PAST MIDNIGHT FOR ME. BEDTIME.

[yuzukult]

from home 03 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: .......... LMFAOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOLKS I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL... anyways hopefully i copied the right chapter hahahhahahah

“You going to the staff dinner tonight?”

Raising a finger at Hoseok, Jungkook slips his phone from his pocket, skimming through the pages before landing on an app, typing a few things in before he looks up with a saddened expression on his face. “... I guess not.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Why can’t you go?” He turns his phone to show the both of you. 

JEON JUNGKOOKACCOUNT BALANCE: ₩33,258.75

“Jungkook!” You and Hoseok in unison exclaim in disbelief. “How the fuck do you only have $30 in there?” Jungkook shrugs, slumping his shoulders as he leans against the conveyor belt. “My mom hasn’t given me the modeling money yet. Our accountant is still calculating all of my earnings. You’d think with how much my parents pay him that he’d work a little faster...”

“We just got paid two days ago,” Hoseok points out, completely baffled as to how Jungkook was able to go through that money so quickly. “What did you do?”

Standing in the middle of Jungkook’s apartment, you and Hoseok just heave out a heavy sigh, shaking your heads in disappointment. He has new curtains, one that makes it easier for the sun to shine through in the mornings which has been an incredibly huge mood booster for him. His futons now have pillows and a blanket to claim their own. Then there was the fridge— full of almost every type of frozen meal from the aisles of the grocery store. And the pantry was an entirely different story; stacks of ramen, chips, cookies— they were practically spilling.

“Jungkook, you need to learn how to control your spending.” You say with great dismay, skimming through the labels of all the ramen bowls and packets that pile on top of each other. “If you keep going at this rate, you’re going to be so broke that you’ll be living on our couches on rotation.”

His face brightens. “You’d let me live on your couch if I needed to?” 

Ignoring his question blatantly, you start browsing his apartment with Hoseok. His suitcases and boxes remain full of things that he brought back from the estate which has you going through them in pure amusement. “You guys... wanna help me unpack or something?”

“Unpack or something. Either or.” You pull out a velvet royal blue suit from one of the boxes that’s still in its clear plastic jacket for the outer protective layer. “Jungkook, want to give me a reason why you have this?”

“Oh. That’s this year’s Hugo Boss. Haven’t worn it yet, I needed to get it fitted.”

Your nostrils flare at the words. “... OK, so why do you still have it? You’re a lower middle class guy living in a studio apartment that’s still probably being paid by his parents who have a butt load of money so they honestly don’t even know they’re still putting money into this. Why they hell would you have a suit that’s...” flipping the label around, your jaw nearly pops off when it drops to the floor, “₩665,175,000.00? Jungkook, what the flying fuck—”

“What?” Hoseok drops the bag of chips he’s in the midst of opening from his hands. Despite also coming from money, he was never that rich in comparison to Jungkook. “Yeah, Hobi, you heard that right. $600,000.00 buckaroos. That’s the cost of a house right there.”

“The Jeon estate is actually—“ You place your index finger against Jungkook’s lips to hush him. “Don’t even. You need to sell this suit.”

“Sell—“ Breathless, Jungkook looks like he’s going to pass out. “I can’t sell a limited edition suit. It was hard to even get it in the first place! What makes you think I’m going to sell it?”

“Because you have 30 bucks to your name.” You respond bluntly before picking up another suit that he has lying underneath the first. “Or sell this one.”

“Not the 2021 Vintage Gucci Men’s Suit!”

“How— One, how can something be vintage if it’s in 2021? And it’s not even 2021 yet?”

The sun begins to set; the rays peering through the curtains gradually dissipates, leaving the three of you sprawled across Jungkook’s new apartment with clothes splattered on every possible surface in the poorly lit room. He still lacked another lamp, but the one his mother left was going to have to do. The staff dinner plans are cancelled, mostly because reorganizing Jungkook’s belongings has been an unanticipatedly gratifying yet a fraught chore that took up more time than predicted. Jungkook was hoping to attend the dinner, but after seeing how much effort you and Hoseok put in trying to make his living space a bit more comfortable, the hope for going to the event has been pushed to the back of his mind.

“Do you guys want to order take-out?” Jungkook suggests, and both you and Hoseok nod while sharing each halves of the futon. “But we’ll pay since you barely have any money. You can get us next time.”

Next time, which means that you guys want to hang out with Jungkook again. 

To him, this is a huge step in the friendship direction. Throughout the entirety of his life, having friends had never really been a thing. Sure, he had play-dates per request from his mother, but those kids were fans of the stuff he owned, they didn’t even like him for him. It had become a recurrence up until high school, where the replacement for the need for friendship had been occupied with flings with women instead. People hung around him for the image, but he never felt a connection with anyone.

That was, until he met you and Hoseok.

Although he’d known Hoseok from showing up at the same parties, he never actually got to talk to him on this level until he visited the supermarket that fateful day. He was always the fun guy at parties; attention constantly gravitating toward him, whether he liked it or not, and he came from money as well, so Jungkook wasn’t sure if those people were surrounding him because of it. Sure, Hoseok’s parents weren’t as rich as Jungkook’s, but they were pretty high up there and could afford almost anything they desired.

Yet, he preferred this sight of Hoseok. Baggy hoodie and jeans, skin greasy from spending the day at work then coming to Jungkook’s apartment to unpack. He’s nagging at you for taking up too much space, covering the surface area that Hoseok had claimed to be his under an unspoken contract as you frown when he slaps your leg.

He likes this. There’s no gowns and tuxes in a ballroom with hors d'oeuvres worth the price of a car per bite; there’s no young people at a party, getting wasted and high, fucking in bedrooms that they weren’t sure who it belonged to; there wasn’t a dining room full of both family and strangers that attempted to start small talk about things he didn’t care about— there was none of that. Just comfort from people he genuinely wanted to impress and make proud of him. He’s not sure if he’s ever felt this way before and he’s barely even known either of you that long. Jungkook has been spending most of his life trying to fill a void in him and has been unsuccessful. He’s finally feeling like he’s going somewhere.

You and Hoseok finally agree on what to eat and he learns that it’s your favorite. Pizza. Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, spinach with an ungodly amount of jalapeño peppers, Hoseok mentioned earlier that night that your tolerance for spicy foods is stronger than the pits of hell. 

“Jesus, how are you eating this?” Jungkook cries, snot dripping from his nose while Hoseok wipes his tears after taking another bite. You sit there, unfazed, picking up the abandoned slices of peppers that sit in the box, dropping them into your mouth. “It’s honestly not that spicy. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Bitch, we are not being dramatic, your stomach is made out of whatever Captain America’s shield is made from...”

Jungkook’s phone buzzes in the midst of your argument with Hoseok and just from the name on his lock screen, his heart drops. Jeon Junghwan.

There were a couple things in life that Jungkook wanted to attain— the acceptance from Junghwan and his parents being on top of that list. Ever since Jungkook was younger, Junghwan had been the golden child, the rest of the four were just barely making it, arduously following in his footsteps. But he failed, he hasn’t been able to win the approval from him.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Mother is having a charity banquet on Saturday. She would have called you but figured it’d be best if I contacted you instead. Something about ‘inspiration’. Please be at the estate at 7:00PM sharp.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Goodnight, Junghwan.

“Why does he text like an old man?” Jungkook flinches, head turning sideways to meet with Hoseok hovering over his shoulder. “Junghwan, I mean. But cool, I was supposed to go to that banquet too, until I got called on a shift. Luckily you’re not scheduled.”

“Yeah...” He says quietly, seated on the floor as he leans back against the sides of the futon. “This is the first time I’m seeing my family after moving out. I need to plan this out right.”

“Well, what’s the plan?” Cheeks full of fries, you’re munching away on the other side of Jungkook as he contemplates the next steps he’s going to have to make in order to reach his goal. “One thing is for sure. You’re going to be my date.”

The breath has been stolen away from his lungs and his heart feels like you’ve pierced through his chest cavity and squashed it into the palm of your hands. He doesn’t know what it’s called (maybe a blowout) but the way your hair cascades down to your shoulders is marveling. In a black long dress with a slit that exposes the entirety of your legs, his breath hitches when his eyes meet the skin of your thighs, the spaghetti straps drape over your décolletage with the v-cut neckline only finishing it off right. He thinks this is his fatal moment. He’s never seen you dolled up like this before; cheeks brushed with a peach blush, lashes emphasized with mascara, liner that makes you look even more fierce, and lips... so buttery pink and plump that almost wishes he could—

“Jungkook?” He shivers, immediately pushing the thoughts out of his head. You’d probably stab him in mere seconds if you knew what he was thinking about. “H-Hey. You look good.” 

You grin, adjusting the fabric that hangs around your legs. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself. Anyways, let’s get going. You said your brother sent a car for us?”

Even though Jungkook is a model and has posed in magazines in suits, it’s still a surprise to see how stunning he manages to look in person. He keeps his hair casual today, despite the formal attire, but when his fingertips rake through those luscious locks, it makes sense why he went with that decision. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t believe that this hunk was living off of frozen meals and instant ramen for the past week. 

He’s pretty, yet there’s something that you can’t help but loathe about him. 

Jungkook is still from money, despite the amount of times you’ve seen him in the supermarket’s uniform and apron. It’s something you’ve been trying to force yourself to remember when you feel yourself slowly falling into the traps of his smile and looks. The reminder is there when a Mercedes Benz S-Class pulls up and Jungkook isn’t as astonished as you are. The window of the driver’s side rolls down, revealing a middle-aged man who wears a chauffeur’s hat and a grin upon his lips. “Jeon Jungkook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Hyungjin,” He dips his head in acknowledgement before saying your name, “... this is my date. This guy has been my driver since I was born. Park Hyungjin. He’s going to be taking us to the estate tonight.”

Jungkook opens the back door for you as you slide in with ease, completely in veneration at the characteristics of the vehicle. It feels luxurious, from the leather seats to the center console, and when you see Hyungjin beginning to raise the customized partition between the front and back seats, you’re shocked it can even do that until Jungkook halts him from doing so. “Uh, sorry, Hyungjin, she’s not one of those nights.”

Oh, you think to yourself, this was a routine. His preceding lifestyle is starting to unfold before you.

Arriving at the ‘estate,’ which was something you’d had been stuck with trying to adjust yourself in calling Jungkook’s family home, it’s an unreservedly different part of the home compared to your first visit however a sudden coldness hits your core from incredulity. How could anyone need a home this big? Jungkook guides you out of the car before you could even register the visuals of the home, waving Hyungjin goodbye and brisk “thank you.”

“Hold my hand.” His fingertips brush against the back of your hand discreetly, and as a reflex, you slap him away while he whimpers in pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry. Habit.” When you try to reach for him again, he opts for resting his palm on your lower back instead, keeping you close. “It’s okay. Is this alright?” You nod. “This is better anyway. We look close yet at the same time professional.”

When you step into the ballroom, you quickly learn that your previous time at the Jeon estate had only been a glimpse of what Jungkook’s sumptuous home had to offer. There’s something of a mezzanine or indoor balcony of some sorts with staircases that branch around the perimeter where a couple people stand idly. The chandelier that you saw in the dining room before was no comparison to what was currently hanging from the ceiling right now— there’s diamonds that hang like raindrops, intricately scattered with clear clarity that only the rich could identify and have the opportunity to see in person. The guests are dressed like those diamonds— sparkles and jewels of women that bathed in the crystals, accompanied by men who simply wore tuxedos and suits. 

But the real stars of the show were the Jeons. With Mrs. Jeon’s hair in an updo, it accentuates her collarbones and shoulders where her dress lies; a beautiful detailed lavender gown that you can already sense the weight of when she drags it behind her. You see where Jungkook gets his genes from.

The filler music from the orchestra that plays in the corner stops, the chattering along with it as they all divert their attention to the Jeons that stand by the railings of the balcony— the four boys and their dates. All that’s missing is Jungkook who stands beside you, hand graduating from your lower back to your waist. 

“Hello, everyone,” Mrs. Jeon greets, a pearly white smile upon her lips. “I am so thankful for your attendance here. As you know, tonight is dedicated toward the Cancer Research Foundation of Seoul, known as the CRFS, and I will be the host tonight but the true genius behind this all is my son, Jeon Jungsik.”

Jungsik approaches his mother from the side, dressed just as well as the rest of his siblings, shaking his head in disapproval. “Mother, I couldn’t have done this without you,” He says humbly, eyes browsing the crowd but pauses when he sees Jungkook with you by his side. There’s something hidden behind his stare, Jungkook hypothesizes, because his modest brother suddenly wants the spotlight whereas previously, he’d be standing in the audience. He can’t tell if it’s because it’s the first family event where he’s sober or if truly there’s something about Jungsik that’s different. “But tonight is a different kind of night. We’re here today not to just donate what we can to a good cause, but celebrating as well. I’m announcing my engagement with Kim Nari.”

An abrupt realization washes over Jungkook.

Kim Nari. The daughter of a tech mogul whose relationship with Jungsik would further advance the Jeon Corporation and skyrocket their profits. Her marriage with Jungsik would link the two companies together, creating possibilities for what seemed to be impossible. Which brings to question, why would Jungsik be interested in Nari? She’s a reflection in the mirror of Jungkook himself— uncontrollable, spoiled, and dependent with no future planned. Why would Jungsik, someone with passions, dreams, and stability want to be with someone like that? Something was up, and Jungkook can taste the bitterness in his mouth.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, but you genuinely don’t care. Anything would be better than listening to conversations that were beginning to start up again at the hasty announcement. Nari has one of her hands sitting upon the rail, waving as if she’s the Queen of England, with a dress that may be deemed inappropriate for a setting like this. It seems that the rest of the family is hearing the engagement for the first time though because Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s going to faint and Mr. Jeon is holding in his anger rather than noticing Nari’s attire.

“Nothing, just... something weird with my brother.” He says before turning to give you his attention again. “Anyway, should I introduce you to my horrific bloodline?”

When Jungkook guides you toward his family members that have begun trickling down the staircase, you’re appearing to have heart palpitations from the suspense. The way the Jeons walk is intimidating alone; shoulders pushed back, straightened posture, and smiles that resemble authenticity on the surface but daggers will be pulled at their disposal if anything goes haywire.

“Mother, Father, this is my girlfriend...” You altogether miss when Jungkook says your name from the sight of his family up close until he squeezes your waist gingerly to capture your awareness again. “Oh, yes, hi,” You bow speedily, “I’m uh, Jungkook’s girlfriend.” Wait. Didn’t he just say that?

“Are you now? Last time we spoke, you said you weren’t,” Mrs. Jeon comments, and albeit her words sound harsh, the draw of her lips upwards say otherwise. It feels a bit forced, but you know it’s from the sudden news coming from Jungsik. There’s a façade of happiness when deep down, she’s disappointed. “We... we met after that night and he treated me to dinner for taking care of him. We’ve been... seeing each other ever since.” 

Mr. Jeon stands there in silence, observing the conversation between you and his wife before unexpectedly speaking up. “Did you attend University? And have you graduated yet?”

Jungkook knows what this is. The Interrogation. Every Jeon child’s significant other has gone through this and you were next. He had completely forgotten about it— mostly because his other brothers had gone through it years ago, and Jongseok’s ‘girlfriends’ had never really been girlfriends, so their dad had given up on that until someone serious came by.

He never thought it’d be him before Jongseok.

“Yes, back in 2016.” You state, fingers fidgeting with the metal chain of your purse. It was a simple question yet the way it’s executed is as if he’s searching for a particular answer.

The older gentleman tilts his head, the space between his brows crinkling in perplexity. He looks so much like Jungkook, except matured with wisdom, and if Jungkook was of any replication of his father when he’s that age, he’d probably still have a line of women after him. “So you’re older than Jungkook.”

“No, father,”  Jungkook chimes in, “... Quite the opposite. She’s actually a year younger than me. Graduated University rather early. Or... well, she finished high school early.” He can see from his peripheral vision that he has captured the ears of his other siblings that stand languidly. “Gifted, really. Child prodigy. Despite all the talented Jeon children, we’ve never had one of those.”

There’s a glimmer in his father’s eyes. He’s impressed. “Really?” His stiff tone has shifted to a lighter one. “Did you study in Seoul? What was your degree in?”

“No, uh, I actually studied abroad in New York after graduating high school. I was about... maybe fifteen at the time? I chose Food Science— I thought about being a Chef because my inspiration is Guy Fieri but someone told me to be a bit more realistic with my brain so here we are.”

Guy Fieri? Jungkook stifles a laugh at your secretive role model, rubbing your sides comfortingly. It’s something to tease you about later, but right now, you have a job to do. Swoon his father.

Mr. Jeon nods, hands slipping into the front pockets of his slacks. “Remarkable. We could use someone like you in the Jeon Corporation.”

Both you and Jungkook choke, clearing your throats at the sudden suggestion, glancing at one another. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m thinking about opening a chain of restaurants, something high end, something different.” Jungkook’s brothers are stepping in closer to listen shamelessly to the conversation, the look of disarray stamped onto each one of their faces as if it’s the first time they’re hearing this information, for the second time tonight. “I would love it if you gave me your take on how to proceed on some things, and help the chef formulate something that makes sense without him cheating me out on prices. Jungkook, tell Maeri to schedule something for us so I can discuss further details.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” You blurt, palms growing sweaty. “But you just met me, and Jungkook and I just started dating. Are you sure you trust me?” It’s another experience of déjà vu; Jungkook mirroring his father’s actions at the yacht party when he claims that he’d pay for your aspirations.

“Of course. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t have girlfriends.”

Just then, someone taps his shoulder and whispers something ineligible into his ear before he turns to you with his hand extended, and you take the offer with a firm shake. “I’m needed elsewhere. It was nice meeting you. Glad to know Jungkook chose someone fitting.” And with that, he leaves.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Mrs. Jeon comments, hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seems that sending you off to live alone has brought nothing but good impressions on your father. Keep it up, Kook-ah. I’m going to go accompany him, so in the meanwhile, introduce her to your brothers, why don’t you?”

Turning your body to face Jungkook, you let out the hugest breath you’ve ever held in your entire life. “What was that?”

He looks equally as stunned as you. “I don’t know but that went so much better than I actually thought. I think that was the fastest he’s ever been fascinated by any of our girlfriends.” 

Jungkook’s father had strict outlooks for the company, one of them being that he wanted nothing but pure Jeon blood leading the corporation. This meant that the significant others of any of his children weren’t allowed to be part of the trade. So why did he ask you particularly for a hand in the family business?

“Jungkook,” One of his brothers calls out, your heads sharply jolting at the sound of his voice.

Have you ever watched Boys Over Flowers? When the Flower 4 walk through any entrance, it’s like time slows down and their hair flows through the wind like they’re models?

That’s what pretty much happens.

“Hyungs.” He says; it’s their own version of a hello and the atmosphere between them is tense. “It’s nice to see you sober, Jungkook.”

His jaw tightens. “I wasn’t an addict, just you so know. Made it easier being around you all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The one you assume is Jongseok from your previous google search waves his hand, disregarding Jungkook’s statement before pointing his finger directly at you. If only you could bite it off along with his rude mannerisms. “Girl toy?”

“Girlfriend,” Jungkook corrects him and his other brothers are intrigued. “This is my girlfriend,...” As he says your name, your eyes immediately are drawn to the woman behind one of the males; shiny caramel colored hair with the simplest white dress that hugs her small waist that still manages to make her look like a goddess with a smile that was so sweet your teeth start to hurt. You recall catching a sight of her in the same magazines that Jungkook featured in and on the posters at the mall whenever you’d walk into a store but how she looked in person was flawless compared to those photos. She was like the real life version of a photoshopped picture.

“This is Hayoung, my brother Junghwan’s wife.”

“Uh, H-H-Hi,” why does she make you so nervous? Do you get anxious around extremely beautiful women? “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” She hums, cheekbones high with her grin. “Kookie never mentioned he had a girlfriend, let alone brought anyone to meet his family before.”

“Kookie?” You reiterate with a mocking tone. He knows you’ll never let him live this down. Least he still had the Guy Fieri thing up his sleeve. “Noona, it would’ve been nice to keep that away from her for a bit. I’m trying to ease her into this madness. She’s probably still recovering from that conversation with our father.”

“As if!” Hayoung counters back. Her husband, Junghwan, wraps an arm around her waist before dipping his head slightly toward you. “I’m Junghwan, Jungkook’s older brother.” He then begins to point at the other gentlemen. “Jonghyun, Jungsik, and Jongseok, respectively.” 

Frankly, it had been a lot to unpack for the night, and you assumed that the boxes back at his apartment were a lot, but this was truly a lot. Within an hour, Jungkook introduces you to almost anyone that plays a significant role in his life and elaborates on each of their backgrounds. 

Junghwan, his eldest brother, is married to the international supermodel Na Hayoung, and he’s the next in line to inherit the CEO position when his father steps down from the company. He’s been trained all his life for this role, apparently, and it’s evident in how he carries himself. Jonghyun, the second oldest, stands behind Junghwan in the company, supposedly his right hand man when it comes to business, joined at the hip although their personal relationship with each other isn’t as close. He’s also married, Jungkook mentions, but his wife is currently very pregnant and at home. He skips over Jungsik, only because you’ve met him over dinner, but he doesn’t miss a beat when he says that Jungsik is purportedly the angelic Jeon. Lastly was Jongseok, the last sibling before himself, and was described as something along the lines of, “the most useless, right after myself, and if it weren’t for his involvement with the marketing department because of his diploma, he’d be living in a studio apartment downtown, cut off from this family too.” Jungkook’s words, not yours.

The night slowly reaches an end, people scattering to leave the estate, thanking Jungkook’s parents for hosting such a charitable event. Just before you’re about to step out along with Jungkook, his mother had her fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Jungkook, you and your lovely girlfriend should stay the night. Downtown is far and your siblings will be here as well. Maybe you can show her to your bedroom? I know you’ve been missing your bed and well... maybe show her around your childhood home.” She pauses for a moment as Jungkook hesitates as you eye him suspiciously before interrupting his thoughts. “Your father wants to speak to you and your brothers in the morning anyways, so it would be nice for you to stay for breakfast, dear.”

“Are you fucking dense, Jeon Jungkook? I do not want to stay the night here.” Contradicting your angry words, you’re already unlatching the attachment on the straps of your heels, sliding them off while seated on the bay window seats of his bedroom, rubbing the soles of your feet. “I’m sorry,” He mutters weakly, falling on the foot of his bed. “I don’t know how to say no to my mother.”

“Well, quit being a fucking momma’s boy and call an Uber. I want to go home, Jungkook.”

“Uber’s don’t run this late at night in the area. We live too far off the grid.”

“Well, then ask Mr. Hyungjin to pull up in his whip and take us home.”

His face drops, a guilty look pooling in his orbs. “We sent him home. He’s technically off on the weekends. Hyungjin only came out because Junghwan asked for him beforehand.”

You grumble, laying back on the cushions, locks tangling along with your mood. “What are we supposed to do here? Share a bed? What am I supposed to wear to sleep? Did you already ask your housemaids?”

“No,” He answers bleakly, standing up. “But I’ll go ask now. In the meantime, you can watch some TV? Then when I come back you can shower and do whatever you need. I think I have a spare toothbrush for you to borrow. As for the bed thing...” Jungkook looks over at that California King that he misses so much. “... it’s more than big enough for the two of us, I’ll keep my distance from you without a problem.”

Before you can counter the suggestion, he’s already out the door.

Perusing through his bedroom, you soon learn that this ‘room’ of his is the size of your childhood bedroom times five with a closet the size of your apartment with a connecting bathroom that was equivalent in surface area.

Then it has you thinking. Jungkook grew up like this, in a life of grandeur where everything he had, he had a plethora of. Whether it be education, belongings, or the aid of people who tended to every need he had, it never seems to run out. He had a driver since he was born while you struggled to learn how to take the bus alone at the age of 7. Or running out of money to pay for a new notebook for class since you’ve been using the same one for the past two grades in order to save cash so your parents could put food on the table. While Jungkook over here was probably tearing down trees in his yard to make all the paper in the world. What about noticing that you were ahead of the kids in your class? No one seemed to have realized it until you said to someone that you were bored, and needed more challenging material when you got sent to the Principal’s office per request, begging to be with the bigger kids.

If you had the money Jungkook had, you would’ve been able to pay off both yours and your parents’ debt in addition to opening your bakery all within the same year. 

But you aren’t Jungkook, and jealousy just runs through your veins alongside the enmity. 

Entering through the housemaids’ chambers was a nostalgic feeling that he couldn’t exactly say was his favorite. Sneaking down here during the late hours of the night for quick sex and running back up to his bedroom felt like such a teenager thing to do at the age of twenty, so he instantaneously gave up on that. 

There’s two wooden doors to choose from. Nayeon, the house servant he slept with several times before realizing that she had falling for him while thinking it was some forbidden love, and Hana... also a servant that he had sex with until she also fell in love with him.

So which one of them would be less upset about him asking to borrow their sleepwear for his new girlfriend?

Answer to that question: neither because they both slammed their doors on him after asking. He should’ve figured that sooner.

Next stop: Junghwan’s room. Maybe Hayoung had something for you. 

He hesitates when he’s standing outside of his brother’s bedroom door. It takes him back to when he was a kid all over again, desperate for his big brother’s attention who didn’t even have enough time to dedicate to him. Taking in a deep breath of courage, he does it yet again, his knuckles tapping against the wood that makes the same knocking sound.

Peeking out, Junghwan looks at Jungkook with a perplexed expression. “Jungkook, what’s up? Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Is noona with you?” He nods. “Yeah, of course. She’s washing her face right now, wanna come in?” Jungkook steps into the room, ambivalent with each movement because he’s never been invited into Junghwan’s room before. It’s almost exactly what his room looks like, except all the shades are dark, varying from grey to navy, with his bed, closet, and bathrooms in the same locations. 

“Hayoung, Jungkook is looking for you.”

“Kookie?” Coming out the bathroom with a robe on, her hair is drenched as she attempts to towel dry it, face pretty even without makeup. “What’s up, bub?”

“Uh, my girlfriend,” He starts, rubbing the back of his nape anxiously because he’s never said those words before, “She doesn’t have anything to wear tonight. I have some clothes, but I think she’d feel more comfortable if she at least has some pants.”

“Tell her to sleep in her underwear, what’s the problem?” Because she’s not really my girlfriend, is what he wants to say, but he takes a different approach. “We’re... still in the early stages. So, uh, you know. She’s shy.” She shakes her head with a smile upon her lips. “Okay. Give me a second. I have a bunch of clothes that I left when we used to live here.” With that, she disappears into the closet.

“I’m... proud of you, Jungkook.” Junghwan speaks up, protruding through the silence. Jungkook just stares in bewilderment, unsure what he even did to make Junghwan say those words he had dreamt to hear coming from his eldest brother. “Other than landing a girlfriend who is definitely way out of your league, you’re actually showing some progress living alone. I honestly didn’t really agree with the plan that Jongseok proposed but... I see it’s working well.”

“W-What do you mean?” Jungkook questions. He still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Junghwan hums. “You were able to find a job yourself. I haven’t seen you coming back begging for money again, and you found someone who doesn’t have the facilities to give you the lifestyle that our parents gave us. You found love without money and I think it really makes a person humble.” He’s fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants now, comprehending that the two of them don’t really talk one-on-one. “I know I changed a lot when I met Hayoung.”

“Kookie, I think I have a couple options for you— whoa, why does it feel so sad here?” She remarks, stopping in the midst of her walk toward Jungkook. “You guys... alright?”

“Nothing,” Junghwan responds quickly. “I just wanted to tell Jungkook that I’m proud of him.” This does nothing but prompt Hayoung to roll her eyes, laying out a pair of shorts and a silky baby blue nightgown. “Junghwan is always proud of Kookie, just not always the decision he makes. Anyways,” She completely brushes off the topic that Jungkook wants to hear, but he’ll circle back to that later. He had a pretty girl waiting in his room who had the temper of the Hulk. “I have two options for you to give her. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll wear the night gown?”

Jungkook scoffs. “If I brought that to her, she’d probably wrap it around my neck and choke me within seconds. Keep the gown, I’m taking the shorts. I’ll let her wear one of my T-shirts.”

“Are you sure?” Hayoung sings and Jungkook tells her he’s almost confident that he’s going to die tonight if he so much reaches the door with that thing in his hands.

Jungkook chucks the shorts at your face while you’re laying on your back on his mattress. “Here you go, Mrs. Fieri. The girls wouldn’t lend me anything because well... I may have slept with them both and they were hopelessly in love with me. Hayoung noona gave me those shorts instead.” He’s babbling on about how rude the housemaids had been when he asked, but you’re canceling his voice out because the coolest chick you’ve ever met just lent you her shorts.

“... Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

He snaps his fingers in front of your face but registers that it’s no use. You’re too busy trying to decipher how God decided to gift Hayoung the looks and the personality that you miss when Jungkook leaves the closet, throwing a plain white t-shirt at your direction. It’s huge compared to you, yet seems like it would fit him well. “Go shower. I’ll be in there after you.”

It’s awkward.

So goddamn awkward. 

Jungkook is wearing a black T-shirt of some band you can’t recognize because the majority of the print has been worn off paired with grey sweatpants that hug his ass so beautifully. Scratch that. You never thought that. They look soft. That’s what you meant.

While you’re currently occupied with attempting to avoid looking at Jungkook, he can’t stop staring at your exposed legs and notice how small and cute you are. Soft. It’s tempting him to want to wrap his arms around your frame and snuggle his nose into the crook of your neck while inhaling the scent of his body wash on your skin. He wants to blame it on the dry spell he’s having because all he does is work nowadays that once he gets home, he’s completely drained. Alcohol doesn’t even appear in his mind either. Or maybe he genuinely thinks you’re pretty and having you in his bed doesn’t make it any better.

Sitting on the farthest opposite ends of the bed, Jungkook clears his throat. “See? I told you that the bed is way too big for the two of us. Should be easy to steer clear from each other.”

Wrong. Incorrect. You should’ve known that Jungkook would be fallacious.

The sun gleams through the sheer white blinds of his prodigious windows, illuminating your faces on an unironically Sunday morning, emitting a groan from a stiff beside you. Your body feels heavier than usual, almost like something was pressing down on you. 

You panic. Were you having a stroke?

After forcing your eyes open from the dry boogers, you can’t believe the sight. Jungkook has his arms and legs tangled in the sheets with yours, nose brushing against your shoulder. He’s so cosy, the most he’s ever been, and the warmth from your body is like a different feeling of home for him. It’s comforting like a cup of hot chocolate during the harsh weather in the Winter or swaddling yourself in a blanket in front of the fireplace. Now knowing how it feels to be in your embrace, he’s not sure if he wants to let go.

“Jungkook, please get the fuck off me.” You bite. Cuddling was not what was discussed in the terms of agreement. Not that there was one but having a buff guy curled up beside you that wasn’t actually dating you was making your heart do cartwheels when it shouldn’t be. He doesn’t seem a bit rattled knowing that he’s snuggling up against you because he scoots even closer. “Five more minutes.” He mutters. His dreams of taking in the aroma of your natural scent mixed in with his shower gel were coming true.

You push him off with as much strength as your body could gather, yet you fail underneath those muscular arms. Those big, thick—

There’s one knock and someone just immediately flings the door open with a gasp. 

But then you see them. Jungsik and Jongseok. 

You don’t know why but you care about how Jungsik sees you, but you care. He’s the closest to your ideal type— as unrealistic as it is for him to ever have a relationship with you, especially since he has a fiancé now— yet at the same time, he knows you’re ‘dating’ Jungkook, and whether or not he believes it, you’re not sure, but your chances were already wearing thin as it is, even worse now that he’s witnessing you in the same bed as his youngest brother. You may have a teensy weensy little crush on your fake boyfriend’s brother.

“Cute,” He chuckles, already dressed in his daily attire; grey slacks that crop at the ankle and a navy dress shirt that doesn’t button up all the way, hugging tightly around his pecs that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “Well, we’re sorry for intruding. Father wants us down for breakfast within an hour. Wake up your boyfriend for us, will you?”

“I’m not sorry,” Jongseok adds with a devilish grin before he quickly shuts the door and leaves promptly with Jungsik. Jungkook hasn’t even moved, not even twitching the slightest bit despite his brothers’ abrupt invasion.

You officially hate Jungkook even more... if that was even possible.

There's an abundance of choices for breakfast foods that sits on the length of the dining room table that you had gotten a glimpse of during your first visit to the Jeon estate, more food than you've ever seen in one place. They had waffles, pancakes, sausages, bacon, toast—all that’s expected of a typical American breakfast laid out like it’s a picture from the Food Network Magazine. He has servants, shuffling through in and out of the room, placing plates and utensils in specific detailed orders before they pull out the heavy upholstered wooden chairs for each and every member of the family in invitation. 

"Uh, it's okay, thank you, I got it—" The woman who has her hands gripped on the framing of the seat tightly as she clenches her jaw, has a glare shooting lasers in your direction. Maybe you'd just take the offer and sit instead. She might be one of Jungkook's late night affairs, you never know what she'd do to your food if you didn't comply.

Sticking out like a sore thumb, you settle yourself by your now claimed to-be-boyfriend who sits comfortably in his own seat since he's owned it for two decades now. You, however, it's your first day and you're not even sure how to feel. Hayoung seems to be doing the opposite; eyes shiny from excitement at the sight of all the options that are laid out in front of her. You can agree to her interest, the Belgium waffles that's stacked at the center of the table with a square of butter residing on top makes your mouth water.

"Thank you all for coming," Jungkook's father announces, the chair he's rested on makes him look so tiny at the head of the table. "I want to discuss some matters with all of you and also invite Jungkook's new love into the family. Honestly never thought this day would come where I'd see my most troublesome child make such advancements in a short span of time."

There's reticence along the table, Mrs. Jeon beside him, eyes searching the table for something in particular. "The proceedings with this engagement with Kim Nari, Jungsik. What did you expect would happen with that?"

And there it was. The conversation that had been put off last night due to guests being on the residence. It's because of two of the things that Mr. Jeon stood by when it came to his family and business: no bloodline, no business entrance had been challenged and the Interrogation had never been in place. 

"Father," Jungsik clears his throat, pressing his back against the cushion. "I'll have you know that I'm only thinking of the future of our company."

"Without talking to me about it?" He snaps, agitated. He doesn't even care that a complete stranger is sitting at the table with them. "What gives you the right to be the only person to know what's good or not for the company? Why not consult with Jonghyun and Junghwan? Why am I told that no one knew about this?"

"Well, I thought—"

"You thought wrong." He confirms, and the Belgium waffles don't seem as appealing anymore. His firmness makes your stomach queasy, despite not being his current victim. "Terminate your engagement. You don't love her anyways. I don't need any affiliation with a self-obsessed tech company."

"But father—"

"None of that." He shushes his son, laying a beige cloth napkin on his lap. "I'm tired of having to teach you how we run this business. I gave you a percentage of the company and I expect you to know what to do with it, which is not to share it with some airhead who doesn't even understand what her own father's company does." Jungsik's body stiffened at his father's lecture after he made a decision solely for what he believed was beneficial for the family business. "Anyways, let's eat." 

"Why do you favor Junghwan over the rest of us?" Jungsik spits, fist slamming against the table. The cups, silverware, and plates trembled underneath his strength, startling you. "I can't believe that I let you walk over us for so long. I can't believe that any of us has let you do it. In reality, none of us get your fortune, just Junghwan. What about the rest of your children? Do you have the only one? Or did mother have an affair for the remaining four?"

Yum, drama. You admit you were getting a little bored last night at the banquet, but his conversation was perking you up in interest. Jungkook oddly remains cool, turning to tap one of the housemaids to pour you some apple juice, patiently waiting for the go to eat. 

Jungsik is disparate in this light because he's not the compassionate and gentle soul you had assumed he was during your first encounters and what was seen on the internet. He’s fierce and competitive, in actuality, with this hidden duel behind doors against his eldest brother. The description written of him was all an image that was portrayed to the public and you start to see what Jungkook means now when he says "apparently" or "supposedly" whenever talking about his older brother.

And Jungkook... he's strangely distinctive as well when sitting amongst his siblings. He's quiet, actually, and attentive, but you take note that he mentions before how he often comes to these things under the influence, and that your presence was what halts him from doing so. 

"Just eat. We'll talk privately later." Mr. Jeon says through his gritted teeth, tips of his ears fading red from Jungsik talking back.

"I saw you eying that waffle earlier," Jungkook says in a hushed tone, leaning into you. "Want one? I'll grab it for you."

OK, maybe he wasn't that bad. He knows what you like and he’s getting it for you. You’ve waited long enough.

The Jeons are awfully good at pretending the argument between Mr. Jeon and Jungsik didn't occur. Everyone sits in lull, occasionally exchanging comments with whomever sits beside them but consuming their breakfast with glee. It wasn't something you were used to.

When you're back into Jungkook's room, you slip on a jacket that you brought the night before, zipping it up. "Is that... normal?"

"What's normal?"

"That whole thing with Jungsik and your dad. Do they fight often? And do you guys normally just... sit there and forget it even happens afterwards?"

He slides onto the bed one last time, inhaling deeply in the scent of lavender, wishing he could take this bed with him as he absentmindedly responds, "Mmm. Yeah."

What kind of family dynamic is this? "Yeah? And you just... watch?" 

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Join in? Take sides? Hell no. It's a different sibling each meal and every time there’s always someone being jealous of someone else. We don’t really get along here and it’s just what we’re used to.”

Treading into Jungkook’s reality was starting to become comprehensible. Almost justifying the way he is, how he’s utterly clueless in basic situations and disconnected he was from the world. Because this is his world; his parents, four brothers, and house full of servants, and he knows nothing outside of it. Their home is completely off the grid, separated from people living regular lives, he even has his own tennis court (you learned from the view from his bedroom), and no one normal has their own private tennis court. His mother has been shielding him his entire life, letting him grow and become a shell of a man in an empty home.

Family isn’t family to him, is what you’ve come to terms with and something he hasn’t yet accepted because he hasn’t seen what a real family looks or feels like. His home isn’t a real home but brimming with employees who work for his family that probably see him more than the people who he called relatives.

It makes you pity him and want to show him what it’s like to be home.

[canarydarity]

The Swing Of Things by canarydarity

Words: 8,402

Rating: General audiences

Relationships: ethoslab & bdoubleo100, ethoslab/bdoubleo100

Additional tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Baseball, Major League Baseball - Freeform, References to Major League Baseball, Introspection, Internal Conflict, New York Yankees, New York City, this is my first time writing ethubs pls be nice to me, its not explicitly /r i honestly didnt know whihc tag to use for this its just, vaguely..becoming them. or whatever, do not question the timeline either it is also...vague, I wanted etho to be there longer than jimmy but, i also had scenes i really wanted to write that contradicted that so, just. read with a grain of salt. okay?, an e wayz, baseball au sports announcers ethubs !!!!

Summary: Over a dozen—two dozen—days in the box. It was hard to watch the game instead of Bdubs.

Or, a look into whatevers up with those sports announcer guys you hear in the background of jimmys season. (alternatively, you spend hours at a time crammed into a small room with another guy watching him instead of the game youre meant to be commentating? what are you, gay?)

[lavenderstream]

my character crushes but they progressively get questionable:

[ro-rogue]

i need more irrelevant details about the darren-dating-leilah-and-sera-living-with-them situation, because, while the whole wanted terrorrists thing is ofc very sad and stressful for them, it is also absolutely hilarious. like, imagine you just found out that your ex-school nurse, a grumpy, eternally tired man who you honestly thought would die single, is dating your (canonically) hot kind older sister, who you hadn't seen in years because she ran away from your abusive parents. also, she and him both sorta work for a terrorrist organization now. the same organization that stole your ability. your sister actively helped to develop the drug that disabled you. her solution to the problem of your ability loss is to also join the terrorrist organization. the terrorrists backstab you and disable your best friend. you decide to betray the organization, but then you're declared a wanted terrorrist by the government so you hide in your sister's apartment. that she shares with your ex-school nurse. before he quit, you spent more time around this man than around any of your actual teachers. then the government busts your future brother-in-law's door down and you have to go on the run. with your sister and her boyfriend.

do leilah and darren do a lot of couple-y things? does sera see them kiss and immediately wishes for the sweet release of death or at least some fresh air, only to realise she is stuck inside with these two for the foreseeable future? is it like the covid lockdown but worse?? at least covid never shot you on sight if you ever left the house on a grocery run.

[lesbianbluesey]

As a Kandreil enjoyer and known Kandrew lover, I think it’s weird and embarrassing as hell when Kandreil/Kevin stans who’s least favorite pairing in it is Andreil try to frame them prioritizing each other more and more as the series goes on as somehow insidious or toxic. Like, you can dislike the direction For Sure and wish it was written differently, but be honest that it’s because of Kevin being your favorite (perfectly valid, I also react disproportionately when my favorite character is hurt by something narratively vs when it’s other chars even if I like/love them) and has nothing to do with *problematic messages about romance* (BAH!) or whatever you are trying to frame it as being the concern instead. 

[hiemaldesirae]

old art dump 2 (i ramble in tags)

[sanstropfremir]

Hello i hope you don't mind but in your opinion what do you think makes a good survival show. I know you talked about wild idol and 0 year 0 class but i wanted your in depth thoughts on the topic.

ohhhh i looooooove when people indulge my bullshit god bless you anons. before i talk about what makes a good survival show, i want to illustrate why the produce format makes a bad survival show. and we can start that by asking a question:

why is fan voting allowed?

obviously you can give the typical answer of 'if fans are engaged than it will drive up numbers' and that the shows are basically only made for fan engagement because we all know that kpop is profoundly and tragically numbers driven at the end of the day, but let's instead live in a world where the producers who pitch and head these shows actually want to make a talented group. so why are the fans involved? at all? sorry to say it, but fans are stupid. they aren't trained professionals in this field, so do you actually think they're going to be thinking carefully about the trainees that they see on screen every week and how their skills fit together? about the fundamentals of group direction and management? no of course they aren't, they're just going to vote blindly for their precious meow meow of the week. so already, we're at a deficit. and if you include the fact that these companies will rig the shows to their own biases (that are not artistically motivated), a double deficit.

second issue: the 'challenges'. they're trash. yes you do want to test an idol's vocal and dance skills, but just because you put a group of the most talented people in a room together does not mean that they will get along or have good chemistry. a huge part of being in a performance group (of any kind) is how well you communicate with each other, and that requires you to know how to compromise, how to be kind, how to take feedback, how to work collaboratively. but when you run trainees through week after week wringers of difficult choreo and tough vocals with very short deadlines, how can you expect them to actually be able to internalize and act upon any of these other skills? they may on a surface level, but the priority is not placed on it. AND when you add individualized voting into the mix, trainees have no incentive to actually meaningfully work together.

what makes wild idol and 0year 0class different from this typical formula is that the emphasis of both these shows was actually on making a well rounded group, so the shows were structured in order to faciliate that happening. both had limited trainee numbers (wild idol 40ish down to 16 in the third episode, 0y0c 15), have little to no fan voting (none for 0y0c, only in the last few rounds for wild idol) and both had challenges that were about testing 'non traditional' idol skills (throwing fuckin logs around, doing fashion shows and photoshoots, writing poetry/rap, doing a lot of repetition, etc). personally i think 0y0c is the better show in general because it does everything the way i would do it, but also it would never be watched by a korean audience so i think wild idol is the best a korean survival show is gonna get.

the difference that makes the biggest impact on how effective i think 0y0c over wild idol is the fact that the producer (avu chan) is a significant part of the show itself. she's literally there with the trainees in every episode, giving them assignments and evaluating them, talking to them about the issues they're having and why they aren't succeeding. there's discussions with her about why she chose to do the show and what type of group she wants to make, she's incredibly transparent about what characteristics she's looking for in the trainees and also about how difficult the industry is; the tagline of the show is 'welcome to your nightmare' bc that's literally what she told the group in the first episode. she's honest about the fact that it's hard, that you will have to work with people you don't like, that you will be rejected many many times, and that people won't always like you. she puts them through challenges that are meant to bring out how well the trainees understand themselves and also give them opportunities to grow and develop into well rounded people with good communication and emotional skills. watching 0y0c actually made me realize that i sincerely believe that the lack of a visible producer with a goal in kpop survival shows is actually a huge reason why i don't think they work. 99.9% of these shows are transparently just making groups to make money, so they have no artistic focus, no creative leader, no drive except to be the lowest common denominator to get the most fans. why wild idol worked for me was bc the producer was clearly trying to make a 4th gen group in the second gen model. even though it wasn't explicitly stated by anyone, the mentors they brought in, the songs they had them cover, even the styles of original songs they did, made that very obvious. i know people say kpop isn't supposed to be serious but like. the people who make it, the fans who enjoy it, we ALL deserve to have something with creativity and drive to enjoy, not just a race to the bottom of the capitalist money pit.